Too many teardrops

Combining my deep and all-consuming love for both Talking Heads and cover renditions of "96 Tears", here's a clip of the whippersnappers at CBGB's in 1975 (sans Jerry Harrison, who'd not joined the band quite yet) performing the ? and the Mysterians classic:



Byrne's vox are surprisingly suited for this song, striking a perfect balance between the tense malice of the original and his unmistakable art-student-in-the-headlights wail. It's too bad they never officially committed a version of this to tape, but via the (seemingly never-ending) magic of YouTube, it's ours to behold for now, at least.

Thanks to both Nudnick of YouTube (for the upload) and Shizaam from Hipinion (for the tip-off).

Being Sucked In Again: A Desperate, Ongoing Love Affair With A British Music Monthly

Ask any music nerd in your life. Once a month, the newsstand unpacks the shipment and places the bible out on the rack. It's usually just about a hundred-and-a-half pages, spined quite sturdily, and oftentimes with a free CD affixed to the cover with some sort of horrific, gluey, snot-esque substance that's embarrassingly fun to play with once plucked off.

Your new issue of MOJO Magazine is here and you will lock yourself in the apartment for hours, draw close the entertainment beverage/substance of choice, put something snappy on the hi-fi and curl up with the finest music magazine in existence today. Phones will not be answered, e-mails unreturned. It will take days to consume fully. The articles are meticulously meaty, serving up satisfyingly in-depth histories and overviews of fantastic music groups and solo artists, and the photography throughout is always top-notch.

For years now, I've been avidly gobbling up MOJO, saving them lovingly in those deeply nerdy magazine collector scum cardboard boxes, and - most amazingly - sifting back through prior issues years later and discovering all sorts of things I'd not noticed my first few leafings-thru. That's the wonderful thing about MOJO, and especially about keeping it around...you always come back to it. You'll be browsing through a copy you hadn't looked at in ages, and you'll stumble upon some huge article on _________ (fill in name of great classic cult band you somehow hadn't been introduced to until fairly recently, any number of them will do) and suddenly, you're sucked in again. Holy shit, how did I miss this the first time? Honestly, how many magazines have much solid repeat reading value whatsoever? I mean, apart from Cat Fancy and Soldier of Fortune?

I'm not gunning for a job offer here, honest, I'm not. I just love me some MOJO, that's all.

This month's issue (April 2006) is something of a mind-blower. We get a five-page retrospective/examination of Wire (finally!), a lovely visit with Morrissey in Rome, a really adorable illustration of the Flaming Lips on page 87 by Steve Klamm (shame about the wretched new album, though, but that's another subject entirely), a engrossing-looking whopper of a piece on one of my absolute teenage heroes, Billy Bragg, and finally, a 15-track CD of British psych nuggets!!

This is a lot of deep awesomeness for a mere $8.99 USD, really.

After even all that excitement, I also found this craziness in the always informative What Goes On! section, and I couldn't wait to share it with you:

Blondie Shoes



"A collaboration between Terry de Havilland and Mosley meets Wilcox using the photography of Mick Rock. Shoes and boots with a sole that prints an image as you walk."

Fucking incredible.

My question is: do these come in a Men's size 13? Please? I'm not really a tranny, nor do I deal with stack heels or strappy crap encircling my ankles all that well, but the thought of leaving a trail of Debbie Harrys behind me is a pretty enticing one.

Mosley meets Wilcox have also collaborated with Mick Rock on the production of this completely insane upholstered Blondie Bench.



"Upholstered bench in a shape taken from a Mick Rock photograph of Blondie."

More information on the Mosley Meets Wilcox / Mick Rock collection (including coffee tables, dishware, and a hanging lamp made of over 2000 translucent guitar picks) can be found here.

And no, despite this unexpected excursion today into grotesque consumerist merch-shilling on my behalf, I haven't forgotten about the MP3, honestly, I haven't. It's just down below, you'll see.

Today's tune is from the aforementioned MOJO Presents...Psych Out! ("15 Nuggets from the scene that inspired Pink Floyd! Starring Donovan, Small Faces, The Move, The Troggs, Kaleidoscope, The Zombies, Procol Harum and more."), April 2006 edition. This track features Brit psych cult hero Keith West, and was originally recorded for the soundtrack of Antonioni's 1996 paranoid pop-art fabulathon "Blow Up".

The In Crowd - Blow Up (MP3, 193kbps (VBR), 2.6MG)

That's just about it for this edition of ETG!...keep it loud and we'll see you again soon...

Do you believe in art?

Sad news last evening, as I learned via messageboard that Nikki Sudden (born Adrian Nicholas Godfrey), of the blindingly-fantastic late 70's proto-post-punk band Swell Maps (and later the Jacobites and a solo career) had died in New York City in the early hours of Sunday morning. As of yet, causes are unknown. Sudden was 49.

Instantly, I heard the sputtering first notes of Swell Maps' "Let's Build a Car" grind into life deep in my brain. Nikki might be gone, but those notes, all of those notes, every single ramshackle Maps tune that sounded like it was gonna just fall apart at any moment, even as it soared into the heavens on a thrilling wave of sweet noise and clatter and drone and fuzz, that stuff's gonna live forever. "Border Country" (my other favorite Maps moment, apart from "Let's Build a Car", easily), "Midget Submarines", "H.S. Art", "Read About Seymour", "Full Moon"...the list of brilliant Swell Maps songs stretches on and on, despite having released a grand total of only four singles and two albums in their career.

I like to imagine that Nikki and his bandmate/brother Epic Soundtracks, who died of unknown causes in 1997, are somewhere fluffier and cloudier than this place, and they're making the most glorious racket possible with their completely kick-ass new band.

Courtesy of the constantly-amazing YouTube, here's a video for Swell Maps' "Let's Build a Car".



Raise a drink to Nikki tonight....

"I don't know if he's killing them or what."

It's no secret. Mark E. Smith is the most difficult boss in the world. The sheer scope of personnel-changes within The Fall is staggering, but luckily, we've been blessed with a few excellent post-Smith creations from survivors over the years, namely the Blue Orchids (formed by ex-Fall members Martin Bramah and Una Baines in 1979) and the Creepers (Marc Riley's band, founded in 1983 after his much-mythologized 1982 exit from The Fall).

The fate of ex-Fall members, many of which seem to have completely vanished from sight after their time in the band, is often speculated upon, with a quote about Mark E. Smith's possible employment-termination technique from the late John Peel being particularly amusing: "I don't know if he's killing them or what.". Amazingly, Dave Simpson tracked down over 40 ex-members for an excellent recent article in the Guardian entitled "Excuse me, weren't you in The Fall?".

(The Creepers, l-r: Pete Keogh, Marc Riley, Paul Fletcher, Eddie Fenn)

The Creepers were, for the most part, a much rowdier proposition than Riley's previous band. There's something lovably ramshackle about them, a big puppy dog clumsiness that's hard to resist over the course of their six albums. They sound like the kind of guys you'd wanna have a few pints with. Our featured cut from the Creepers today is from their final studio album, 1987's Rock & Roll Liquorice Flavour.

Liquorice Flavour - The Creepers (MP3, 192kpbs/3.9MB)

(Blue Orchids)

Bursting out of the gates with a sweaty zig-zag riff and haunted house organ, "The House That Faded Out" by the Blue Orchids is a paranoid pop party hit that time forgot, something you can blast on the hi-fi while the kids light the couch ablaze and jump on the coffee table. This track originally appeared as the b-side of 1981's "Work" single, but the version featured here today is a 1980 Peel Session track. The Orchids went on to release a clutch of fine singles and albums, eventually hooking up with Nico, serving as her backing band for a 1982 tour of Holland. LTM's wonderful anthology (featuring Peel Sessions, live tracks and a few rarities) From Severe To Serene is a fine place to start.

The House That Faded Out (1980 Peel Session) - Blue Orchids (MP3, 192kpbs, 4.8MB)

Remarkably, the Blue Orchids have recently rebanded, and have a new mini-album, Slum Cavern Jest out now. There's all the info you need right here, at the band's official site.

While both of these groups found their own sound away from Smith's prior influence, they both sort of carried on the grand tradition of spooky Fall classics like "A Figure Walks" or "Spectre vs. Rector" from time to time. There's been a long-running undercurrent of ghost stories and supernatural weirdness to Smith's lyrics, but it's always been tempered with enough smarts and wit to be genuinely entertaining and non-schlocky. It comes across in the Fall's 80's sound, as well, with the foggy murk of 1983's Perverted By Language being perhaps my favorite example of the band at their atmospheric, grotty best.

Back in a few days with a Scottish 80's jangle-pop obscuro treat. See you then...

Just the thought fills my heart with pink frost

The Summer of 1987 was a bleak time for fans of English guitar pop.

The Smiths were suddenly no more, and a nation of bedroom-bound miserables found themselves without a very favorite band. One of the first glittering hopes that arrived in the aftermath were The House of Love. The band formed in Islington in 1986, and released a series of fantastic singles, with their self-titled debut LP finally appearing in 1988 on Creation Records. Their sound was stately, shimmering and sweeping, perhaps most perfectly put on their 1988 single, "Christine". Guy Chadwick's sinister purr was backed up by Terry Bickers' wall of air-raid-siren guitar, and the song, once heard, had a knack of hanging around your brain for months afterwards. Even now, almost 18 years on, it's still a true classic of a tune, and one of the finest UK indie singles of the 80's.

The story that followed was a somewhat familiar one; band gets heaped with praise and accolades by the UK press, chart success follows, singles and albums released post-debut fail to pull off the same trick the second time around, drugs and ego and "artistic differences" take their toll...you know the drill by now. Bickers left the band a mere year after the release of their debut album, but The House of Love continued on for three more years. Despite the shadow of the debut looming large over the rest of the band's catalogue, there were some truly fantastic gems nestled in what followed, and today's selections showcase three particularly excellent rarities from The House of Love's 1990-1991 period.

( l-r: Chris Groothuizen, Guy Chadwick, Pete Evans, Terry Bickers)

First up, we've got a crackin' rocker called "Ray". Here's what Dave Roberts and Dag Nyholm's fine fansite has to say about it:

"During June and July 1989 the band entered Abbey Road studios to record their second album with Paul O'Duffy. Ten tracks were recorded including "Ray". The band and their label weren't happy with the recorded tracks and many were shelved. "Ray" was revived for the "Spy In The House Of Love" compilation in 1990 having had some of the vocals re-recorded."

The House of Love - "Ray" (MP3, 202kbps (VBR), 5.3MB)

Over the course of their career, The House of Love did a number of pretty inspired cover versions; I'd not heard their take on The Chills' "Pink Frost" until recently, and I was blown away by how well they pulled their own version off...such a beautiful song. This (as well as the next track featured) appeared on 1991's The Girl With The Loneliest Eyes EP.

The House of Love - "Pink Frost" (MP3, 199kbps (VBR), 4.9MB)

Finally, we've saved the best for last. "Purple Killer Rose" is a simmering slow-burn, with both Chadwick's vocals and Bickers' guitar work in pure slash-and-burn mode. This one truly ranks up there with "Christine", "Destroy The Heart" and a few more as one of The House of Love's mightiest moments. It's a shame that Six By Seven couldn't have tackled a cover of it before their unfortunate breakup last year, as they're one of the few bands I could imagine really nailing this one. Here's four minutes and nineteen seconds of majestic malevolence, enjoy it....

The House of Love - "Purple Killer Rose" (MP3, 197kbps, 6.2MB)

Amazingly, Chadwick and Bickers reunited for a new 2005 studio album, Days Run Away, their first together again as The House of Love, after over 15 years apart. You can find out more information about their reformation here.

That's just about it for this installment of Eat This Grenade!; we'll be back in a few days with some more noise....see you then.

My Mood Is Black When My Jacket's On

I can trace the initial cause of my tinnitus back to about 1985 pretty easily. I blame two ex-factory workers from Scotland, brothers, surly bastards. They unleashed a big wad of bubblegum wrapped around a nail bomb onto the world and my ears were never quite the same again. This is not a complaint, however.

(l-r: William Reid, Jim Reid)

Over the years, I've heard dozens of hilarious stories about Psychocandy being used as sonic terrorism by sullen mid-80's teenagers. If you were pissed off, between the ages of 15 to 18, and had a propensity for both black clothing and not combing your hair, then the Jesus and Mary Chain were your own personal H-bomb. Guaranteed results. Needles were yanked from spinning vinyl. Volume knobs manhandled. Mothers would scream up steep staircases. My father used to think I was purposely listening to radio static on my Walkman, slouched down in the backseat of the family car, just to annoy him, but no, it was only Psychocandy. It summed up every last shred of 16 year-old fury I was experiencing over being trapped in the car on long road trips to lamp stores and wallpaper showrooms.

(An amusing aside: I had a JAMC shirt that I wore incessantly at the time, it was pretty inoffensive, just a black tee with big chunky letters on it saying The Jesus and Mary Chain. It wasn't like it had a nun in pasties and a g-string on it or anything. Anyway, I took a trip to NYC, my first, with my parents in the Summer of 1987. We were staying in Times Square, which was still enticingly scummy/weird at that point, and I'd worn the shirt our first night there, despite my mother's protests. It took no less than ten minutes before an agitated street preacher with a megaphone had caught a glance at the shirt as we walked past. We were followed for the better part of a block, the preacher shouting "The Jesus and what? Turn around, young man!! The Jesus and what??" into his loudhailer. I told Jim Reid this story when I interviewed him in the mid-90's and he seemed greatly pleased by it.)

The way I saw it, there was the Smiths for the introspective, gazing out over the Moors (well, Anaheim, but whatever) moments, and then there was the Mary Chain for when your mood was black and your jacket's on. "The Living End", with its mumbled lyric of "I feel so quick in my leather boots" always made me smile, but it took some distance from the self-absorbed murk of adolescence to realize that the line that followed shortly - There's nothing else but me - summed it all up even better. You could lose yourself in these roaring surges of white noise and feedback and echo. Escape.

(clockwise from top left: Douglas Hart, William Reid, Jim Reid)

Sure, this stuff still sounds completely crucial and brilliant 20 years on, but there's no comparison to how it felt when you first heard it. It's a bit of a noisepop cliché now, the whole "it sounded like my stereo was broken!" initial-Psychocandy-listening experience story, but this band and this album summed up a fat chunk of suburban teen ennui and restless boredom for a lot of kids in the mid-80's. When you discovered it, you'd never heard anything like it before, and I've often wondered if this wasn't a bit like the hair-raising intensity that the Ramones evoked in a lot of 70's-era music kids. The music just lunged at you. Survivors of those early, thunderously loud-fast-attack-attack-attack Ramones gigs spoke of the proceedings in shell-shocked terms afterwards. Jaws dropped. Eardrums were blitzkrieged. One thing was certain about Psychocandy, though - it was impossible to be on the fence about it, either it swept you up with it or you went and listened to Simply fucking Red instead, you miserable loser.

One of my very favorite early Mary Chain rarities was their fine cover of Syd Barrett's "Vegetable Man", something I'd only owned on a 7" prior to the magic of MP3 technology. I'd remembered there being a cover version of Subway Sect's fantastic song "Ambition" as an early b-side as well, but I somehow never came across it until just recently. A true punk classic, "Ambition", as knocked out by the Jesus and Mary Chain, is pure '85-style, all clattering drum-machine and cheese-grater guitars, and (to the best of my knowledge) wasn't ever given an official release on CD, although it would've nestled among the early rarities on Barbed Wire Kisses just perfectly.

The Jesus and Mary Chain - "Ambition"
(MP3, 128kpbs, 3.2MB)

Coachwhips vs. Your Ass

There's something entirely cathartic and wonderful about making a huge racket. Noise just feels good, and some of the sickest, gnarliest distorto-splatter I've heard in the past couple of years was made by none other than San Francisco's beloved Coachwhips.

(photo courtesy of Virgil Porter)

Led by floppy-fringed madman John Dwyer (whose previous bands include Pink & Brown and Ziegenbock Kopf, among others), the 'whips served up heaping helpings of jagged, spastic and truly asskickin' grind-n-stomp over the course of three great albums, Get Ya Body Next Ta Mine, Bangers Vs. Fuckers and Peanut Butter and Jelly Live at the Ginger Minge. Sadly, Dwyer announced the end of the Coachwhips sometime this past summer, with his continuing efforts being channeled into his latest band, the Hospitals.

Imagine Hasil Adkins being electrocuted with a fistful of amphetimines stuck in his throat and you're just a fraction of the way to describing the beserk, raw and unhinged sound of the 'whips. Despite the pummeling wall of mayhem these freaks dished out, their songs were ultimately f-u-n and raucous, serving as the perfect soundtrack for an evening of casual vandalism or Scotchgard-huffing. Yeah, this is Party Music, to be sure, but it's a party where all of your dishes get smashed and you wake up the next morning in a kiddie pool of Jack and Twinkies. On fire. This is not necessarily a bad thing.


Today's featured track is "Dancefloor, Bathroom", taken from the band's 2004 Narnack Records album, Bangers Vs. Fuckers.

"Dancefloor, Bathroom"
(MP3, 199kbps (VBR), 3MB)

Check out this pretty great Coachwhips live performance at Burn My Eye! (Download or Stream, 20MB, 12 min.)

Out next update will be Tuesday, December 13, 2005.

**Correction/deep shame/apologies: I was just informed by Dan of the Bunnybrains that Mr. John Dwyer has never been a member of the Bunnybrains, as was previously stated here. You, as well as I, can discover more information about the Bunnybrains at this site. Thank you for the clarification. Dan.