PUNK ROCK SHOW TUNES

The title track has a moody feel, with alternate twanging, chiming and swirling from the six-strings and organ parts that veer from a mere pad to cheesy fills, though its message is quite blunt, thanks to the passionate but tuneful vocals – that is, that capitalism makes whores of us all.

"Ever Felt Cheated?" has a repetitive thrashy arrangement that seems to be on one chord, with screamed vocals and a noisy chaotic guitar solo in very free time over the basic groove, concluding with a saxophone assault that Ornette Coleman would be so proud of.

"United By Haircuts" savages the celebrity/kiss-up type of reformism (Sting cares about the rain-forest; a lot of yuppie politicians like Sting; therefore, let HIM take care of the problem), starting out with electronic keyboard tones, that are gradually echoed by guitar riffs, drums and bass, falling into a lockstep that is about the perils of ‘unity’ when the unison one is seeking is the kind that gets nothing done but gives you a warm fuzzy feeling (we met with the Prime Minister for a whole five minutes, and he said he’d respect us afterwards…oh, whatever…) and eventually building to an organ and fuzz-toned guitar climax.

Neat – but I somehow thought it would be more conventionally ‘punky’. Of course, some of the lyrics on this record would comment on that assumption quite nicely… J

The A-side of this single is also the title track of the newest album by Sam Coomes (guitar/bass/keyboards/vocals) and Janet Weiss (drums/vocals), and is a dense alt-rocker with catchy harmonies and some hairpin rhythmic shifts, and lyrics about fate and public opinion, which abruptly shifts into an arpeggiated long coda, occasionally interjected with drum rolls, gradually building to a Sonic Youthy guitar drone.

The B-side, "Nothing, Nowhere" is unique to this release, and is a mid-paced piano/synth ballad in a minor key, sung by Janet near the top of her range, and concluding with a startling dissonant chord.

Nothing too crucial – but pleasant enough while it lasted.

Canada’s answer to The Donnas produce yet another excellent slice of powerpop!

The title track is a tough yet tender selection, with a catchy, noisy guitar solo in it, but it struck me as just too short. Darn – I was just starting to get into it when it was over…

"MO", on the B-side, has a tasty bass groove from the top, which opens into a mid-paced, semi-thrashy-toned ditty about wanting to be home with one’s boyfriend, rather than going out. I can relate to that… J

"Girls Like Me" is a cover of a Nikki and the Corvettes classic, showing that the girls are giving their props, as their previous single covered The B-Girls’ "Who Says Girls Can’t Rock?". This song has a similar theme, though it has the advantage of actually having been WRITTEN by a woman as well.

Fun, and in a paper sleeve at that – how very late Seventies/early Eighties indie… J

Everyone’s favourite Scottish product (which doesn’t come in a bottle) dazzles us again.

The A-side is another classic piece of bitter anti-romance, graced with a beautiful, thick orchestration that will stick in your head for days after hearing it, and an increasingly rock-oriented rhythm section (including downbeat guitar power chords, albeit played on an acoustic instrument).

Throw in the Vaudevillian strains of "I Love My Car" and the Dylanesque (i.e."what the hell is this song ABOUT!?") beauty of "Marx and Engels", and you have another value-for-money maxi.

Not since the glory days of the Smiths (a band who Belle and Sebastian almost certainly have high up in their chiming-guitar-and-morose-lyrics master list of influences) has a group managed to put out so many stand-alone singles that could make up an album on their own. May it continue in the future, although an eagerly awaited new album is rapidly approaching as we speak…

LD Beghtol (vocals/guitars/ukulele/keyboards/percussion) and his melancholy gang of pranksters (this time consisting of: Charles Newman on keyboards and percussion; Jon De Rosa on voice and electric guitar; and Mark Gunderman on violin, with guests including: John Wesley Harding, voice; Ernie Adzentoivich, contrabass; James Hirsch, cello; Joel Hirsch, drums; and Ida Pearle, violin) produce their little tribute to the Eighties maxi-single with this three-song offering (plus an uncredited bonus track that I am hardly going to ruin the surprise of by naming).

"Definitive", the main offering, is a lovely, romantic, swirling and downright Morrisseyesque epic (in fact, everyone’s favorite narcissist nancy is even mentioned in the lyrics), with delicately strummed guitar, slowly sawing cello and pizzicato violins, and the gorgeously sexy swooping vocals of the above-mentioned woofy wonder, its strangely effective percussion courtesy of "The Mighty Seeburg Select-A-Rhythm" (ah, the joy of preset drum patterns – this and Helen Love do wonderful things with such a limited palette…). It is also about unrequited love and longing, big Eighties themes, as typified by those oh-why-couldn’t-they-be-fags? bands in the Depeche Mode and Tears For Fears mode, though the final line throws a bit of irony and bitterness into the equation for

good measure (I daren’t give it away, but a song that mourns that a boy cannot be "definitive" to his would-be fella could not conclude otherwise).

"Course" was originally available in some Italian magazine, and is also slow, string-laden and sad, and full of the smooth yet passionate vocals of L.D. It has a sort of Low quality, in that it is very laid-back, orchestral and quiet, but also disturbing and commanding. It also goes on at infinite length, my dear, but is well worth the linger.

"You’re The Only Star In My Blue Heaven" is recorded deliberately to sound like what the Gene Autry original doubtless approached – very wobbly, lo-fi and with maximum warble and vibrato on the voice. Being a fan of vintage cowboy/army ditties covered by large homosexuals (cf. "Soldier’s Sweetheart" by Tranquility Bass), I approve.

And then there’s the bonus track, but, even if you threaten NOT to torture me with a hot curling iron, I shan’t tell…but it’s purty…

Alan (guitar/vocals), Zak (bass) and Mimi (drums/vocals) once again threaten to lull us, but end up keeping us awake and moody, this time by borrowing someone else’s song.

I confess to being both a Smiths fan and that "Last Night I Dreamt That Somebody Loved Me" was my second-favourite song from the generally disappointing Strangeways Here We Come album (if you must know, a song about merchandising, "Paint A Vulgar Picture", was my champion, though I did find it ironic that the record in question gave an address to write to for stuff).

Wisely, Low jettisons the odd sound collage that padded the original’s length, and start in immediately on its gradually unwinding, soulful, longing tune. There is something interesting (and unsettling) that a married man is crooning this song (in harmony with his wife, with whom he has produced a child), as opposed to the unhappily smug celibate Morrissey, but it is still lovely, helped out by REAL strings, as opposed to the original’s synthetic approximations, and one burst of Mimi’s booming percussion.

The other track, "Because You Stood Still", is typical Low, in that it is brooding but pretty melancholia with a spiritual edge, taken at a crawl some would consider tortuous, but which, to me, is no less ‘heavy’ or ‘rocking’ than the fastest thrash, while brief interjections of feedback and power chords that occasionally surface are extended freakouts by the group’s deliberate standards. It is heavy with meaning, and it rocks you to sleep and cleansing dreams, particularly through its almost a capella harmony passages and groaning orchestration.

This CD single also has a video of another track, "Dinosaur Act", from the band’s most recent album, Things We Lost In The Fire, but my computer is too slow with it, so I have to say I’ve only seen bits and pieces of it as it jerks along. It IS my favourite song from THAT album, though, so I’m sure it must be cool…

(Tim pats self on head for not mentioning the religion of two members of the band even once in this review J )

There was a time when it seemed all one needed to put out a good pop record was a wall of noise, some feedback, an obvious love of the Velvet Underground, a somewhat propulsive, bass-heavy groove and a certain romantic moroseness.

Of course, you only sold that vinyl to the person who ALSO thought that all you needed to put out a good pop record was…

Case in point. I had never heard of the 14 Iced Bears (I know it’s hard to believe – on which point, I am now putting them and Jules Shear and the Polar Bears on my apology list for omitting them from my Bear Band list elsewhere in this ‘zine – but I was trying to keep to three pages…), but I can hear what they heard. I detect the influence of and kinship with Primitives, Shop Assistants, Pastels, Mighty Lemon Drops, Chameleons, early Cure and so much more – common heroes for a lovely but sparse sound based around a desperate need for self-expression and the life-saving vigour (or immature-death-longing ennui, for that matter) of rock ‘n’ roll, postpunk style. I finally heard OF them because of a cover on an Aislers Set CD (who are on the label which issued this retrospective and pushed for it). It sounded intriguing – anyway, I just had to find out WHY that name (no reason given in the liner notes, darn it all!).

This collection gathers the British band’s three singles, plus some Peel sessions, live recordings and demos. Thrill to the moody but melodic vision of Robert Sekula, the vocalist/guitarist (he and Kevin Canham, guitarist, were the center of the project – the rest changed frequently). Don’t leave them Iced any longer…discover a band you never heard then and will wish that you had…

Michael Gira is famous for the dark roar of his music in the Swans, though, in that project’s later days, he began to croon, and his current work mines the tuneful, if gloomy, world of blues and semi-orchestrated ‘pop’; Dan Matz, on the other hand, is from Windsor For The Derby, and tends to do pop miniatures in an Eno mode.

Not surprisingly, the end results of this joint project sound a bit like a collaboration between John Cale and the just-mentioned bald-domed fellow, in particular the album Wrong Way Up (though not as danceable, and certainly not as nihilistically cheerful).

Lead vocals are traded off, as is the varied instrumentation (inclined towards walls of chiming acoustic guitars, keyboards, and the occasional cheap drum machine). Dan’s songs tend to be poppier and have more chord changes, while Michael is, well, the disturbing but gifted droner we have come to know and grudgingly invest our concern or worry in – however, the two rub off on each other more than either would likely care to admit, and the end product is sort of a death-obsessed make-out album. Listen to it with someone you once loved…

There is also a song on here called "Laramie", about Matthew Shepard, and the lovely guitar (by Timothy Young) and delicate drums

(courtesy of Dale Fanning) weave around the ringing piano chords and fills most effectively.

"Compassion" begins accompanied only by guitar, then gradually and fetchingly opens up to piano and drums.

The title track is the most Torian/Kateish here, with its high piano, deeper voice, and wrenching lyrics about pain and redemption.

"As I Am" is veritably funky, with its wah-wah guitar and busy bass (courtesy of Arne Livingston - gotta admire someone who appreciates the talent of an Arne ( (your friendly reviewer is a known nocturnal associate of a gentleman thusly named)), and also hits hard with its lyrics about identity and self-assertion.

A beautiful and provocative piece of work here, that deserves a wide audience (though there are days on which I think that might be the kiss of death for some artists - on the other hand, NO audience finishes you off a lot faster, either physically or creatively, so it's a tough call.).

The CD opens with a disturbingly dark cover of the Carter Family's "I Never Will Marry", which is, of course, a gay song when sung by a fellow, even in the pretty, pure tones of Mr. L.D. For that matter, another cover, "Souvenir" by OMD, is made almost unbearably lovely by paring and slowing down the beat and rendering it nearly entirely with acoustic instruments. As to the end of the album, the rather morbid "Over and Out" provides some decidedly sick laughs and humour.

In between, there is: the jolly country of "Turnabout", concerning a British serial killer/cannibal; the various-guitar-noises dirge of "Six Page Letter"; the acoustic Nashville pop of "Miss Fire"; the languid, female-sung "Counts for Nothing"; the strangely campy oompah of "Figure Ground"; the downright sexy, stripped-down Latin/Tango of "Let Go, Let Me", vocalized by the dreamy Mr. Merritt; the close-to-poppy ballad of "Record"; and the intricate longing of "Yet Again".

Certainly a sad record – but a handsome one (despite the blasphemy against Beardom that is the centerfold of the CD booklet *grin *).

Elif Savas, as this CD reveals, is a classically trained, Turkish-born, New York-based soprano(and violinist, though her abilities on that instrument are not displayed here), as well as film director and cook book author.

She is accompanied here by Michael Hennessy on piano as she does a program of songs in German, French, Polish, Russian and English by various gay composers of the 19th and 20th Centuries. I certainly was aware of Peter Tchaikovsky and Karol Szymanowski (their sexuality and their existence); I had vaguely heard of Francis Poulenc (existence only); the names Reynaldo Hahn and Charles Tomlinson Griffes were unknowns. The set is rounded out by a contribution from the above-mentioned Hennessy.

Of the four pieces by Tchaikovsky, three ("Why", "To Forget So Soon" and "Why Did I Dream of You?") could be read through a queer eye, at least in translation (though it must be borne in mind that he did not write the texts). Ms. Savas' grasp of Russian seems fairly sound, from my limited knowledge of how that language is pronounced, and the piano is delicately unobtrusive on these sad but

crafted and dramatic selections, delivered in a lovely, rich voice.

Hahn's pieces (French texts) follow, and are a slightly subtler, more pop-structured breed, with "Smoke" having a

telling line about man suffering on his knees, which is sure to raise a queer theorist eyebrow or two.

Szymanowski's selections, in Polish, are playful, with lots of glissando, passing notes and occasional touches of dissonance on the piano. It is this ornate tendency that makes a song such as "Spring of Sadness" seem slightly camp in its mourning (which, it is argued by some folks not terribly fond of opera, is a common flaw in the genre's nature - the inclination towards multi-octave litanies of grief in perfect pitch; this may have some degree of truth to it, but it is still nice to hear).

Poulenc's "Chanson Bretonne" and "La Petite Servante", in French, are delivered at such a speed that Ms. Savas occasionally seems

breathless, though this is probably deliberate, given the crowded, frantic narratives, but it is evidently not her strongest language. "Cimetiere" gains camp points for being overwrought AND about a sailor, while there is something just a little bitchy about "Berceuse", and at least morbidly acidic in the best queeny tradition.

Not surprisingly, Hennessy's contribution, "Lost Sense", has the busiest piano and English lyrics, albeit translated from a poem by Constantine Popa. As is often the case with opera in my native language, I found it a little challenging to make out the words, a difficulty that carried over to two of Griffe's three pieces (the final one, "Night Song", was in German).

All told, I was impressed by the power and sheer emotion of Savas' vocals, and the lyric translations were moving to read as I listened. A nice collection, and, unlike some compilations aimed at the gay community, there are no beefcake models on the cover to attempt a hardsell (I suppose Ms. Savas' image might be an incentive for bi men and queer women, but I have no direct personal knowledge in that regard.).

Well – not something about which it would be easy for me to be objective, as this was one of the first bands I became obsessed with.

It’s a 3-CD set of recordings of the Velvet Underground (Lou Reed, guitar/vocals; Sterling Morrison, guitar/vocals; Doug Yule, bass/organ/vocals; Maureen Tucker, drums/vocals) in concert from May 1969 (one track, from Missouri) and November/December 1969 (San Francisco, California). These CDs were produced from very early cassettes, transferred onto reel-to-reel tape, so the sound quality occasionally suffers (though it is about as good as the 1969 live 2-CD, and certainly far better than the Velvet Underground Live at Max’s Kansas City release), but it is still a revelation.

Three takes on "Sister Ray", each weirder than the last! Slow takes on "Waiting For The Man" with lots of extra words!! Formative takes on "New Age" and "Ride Into The Sun" that gradually open up into breathtaking jams!!! A live version of "I’m Sticking With You" that actually gets the harmonies right (as opposed to the literally teeth-grating take from Velvet Underground Live MCMXCIII)!!!! An actual ‘new’ track ("Follow The Leader")!!!!!

Let’s face it – if you’re not already a big fan, you aren’t going for this. If you are, you should kill to get it (I had to get my local indie store guy to threaten the distributor he uses for majors with a cutback of the order in order to finally obtain it two months after ordering it– not that I’m all that opposed to making corporations uncomfortable…).

Another band I adored too much to be an unbiased analyst of (which is why this collection distressed me).

Whether it be Damon Krukowski’s sensitive, delicate drums; Naomi Yang’s liquid, melodic bass lines and frail (far too) occasional lead vocal; or Dean Wareham’s high voice and primitively perfect guitar work (both of which I could actually emulate once in a while, which was quite a thrill), it was an act whose three albums I treasure (the live posthumous release isn’t as special, as it is from late in their career and somehow too laid-back).

Judging from the liner notes, the compilers of this project (the remarks are thoughtfully provided in both English and Spanish, and some were clearly written in the latter language and awkwardly translated) also admired the musical ensemble immensely.

when swung and crooned a la Stereolab, and it simply seems twee) (UPDATE, JULY 5: Having been contacted by a member of the band Watoo Watoo, I feel compelled to point out he loves Galaxie 500 and Luna and just thought a bossa beat would work well - I've have to relisten - I've been known to change my mind...) or Orange Cake Mix’s too-shambling stab at "Flowers", not to mention (too late!) 18^th Dye’s distorted effort at "Isn’t It A Pity" (which, I mean, is a cover of a cover, its being a song by the late (and lamented, I should add) George Harrison). Furthermore, I suppose it was inevitable, given this label’s homebase, that both "King of Spain" and "King of Spain, Part Two" are attempted, but neither was an especially noteworthy song in its original conception.

When one considers that a lot of these bands cover material from the 3^rd Galaxie album, which is ballad/ethereal-heavy and showing the strain of a band pulling apart in the face of, shall we say, disparate levels of ambition, and that many of the tracks were recorded quite some time before this compilation was presumably conceived of, it ends up seeming a bit tossed together. Perhaps it could have been edited to one interesting, occasionally confounding CD – but two was too much to endure for the dross and odd, misfiring interpretations…

A sad pass, given the band involved – but a thumbs down in the end nevertheless.

This, as the title indicates, is the second compilation put out to benefit Home Alive, an organization formed after the still-unsolved murder of Mia Zapata, lead singer of the Seattle band Gits, in order to teach people self-defense and general empowering techniques.

The first volume, which was a double package, was put out on Epic at the height of grunge/alternative’s moment in the sun of commercial exploitation, and had a few celebrities on it, such as Pearl Jam and Ann and Nancy Wilson.

That is not the case here, with the possible exception of Amy Ray from Indigo Girls. Instead, this is a solid and eclectic package of artists, full of previously unreleased tracks.

And a tasty basket of goodies it is! The inclusions range from the raw slide-guitar-driven "This Is What We Got" by lesliwood to the delicate one-man band stylings of Sanford Arms and Craig Markel; from the acoustic violin-and-accordion-dominated "Where Are You Now?" by Carissa’s Weird to the soul/funk/gospel/folk/blues stunner of Carrie Akre’s "Wishing You Well"; from the country blues of Zen Guerilla’s "Crickets and the Sickle" to the Curtis Mayfield soul of Maktub’s "Uptown Feeling"; with stops at the agitpop of Pinkos’ "Rebel Girl" (by Joe Hill, not Bikini Kill) and Need’s amazing assault on "Frayed Ends of Sanity" by Metallica.

There are times I hesitate at buying a compilation, even if it is for some cause I truly admire, because I don’t think I’ll like the music (I agonized for the longest time over possibly picking up a CD to benefit a school for queer youth, but I couldn’t stand the acts on it and I cannot help but feel the solution is to fix the schools that already exist…). This was not the case with this one. HOT STUFF!!

A bit of a left-fielder. One often wonders how one COULD do a tribute to possibly the least competent and most charming band on Earth. On the other hand, there is a Cocteau Twins homage CD in existence, and that is another group I find it hard to picture covering (the lack of genuine words and the generally blurry nature of Elizabeth Fraser’s vocals would have seemed to be a barrier…), so many things are possible in this big scary world. J

Brief history lesson. The Shaggs were a group of sisters in New Hampshire who, in the late 60s and early 70s, recorded one album (and enough other material to release a posthumous second effort – in fact, rumour holds there is much more available…). When I first heard them, I assumed they were sort of like the Brontes, who appeared to write without access to books or the literary conventions of their time, in that their music seemed untouched by any concept of tuning or standard structure. Much as that was not true of those siblings, it was an erroneous assumption on my part – the Shaggs were actually big fans of rock music, or at least the poppier elements of same, though their domineering father (who drove them to be a band) did not allow them to go to concerts or, indeed, to school with their peers.

Having said this, their take on rock music was like no other. Very blank, nervous, eccentric vocals; drums that brought the concept of ‘behind the beat’ to a new level of free jazz; guitars that were roughly in tune with each other, but not aligned with the normal frequencies or strumming patterns of anyone else in the universe.

How to do justice to such wild genius? The bands on this compilation, to their credit, generally go for the spirit and the approximate vocal melodies of the originals and do not attempt to play in their heroines’ style (I am not certain it would be possible).

Ida goes all Nico on its droning, organ-driven interpretation of "Philosophy of the World" (which is also covered by Double U – it was mildly disappointing that both bands made this, the most rocking song in the Shaggs’ repertoire, so mellow…but they were nice to listen to…). Mongrell invests "My Cutie" with a nearly sensual longing. Deerhoof turns "My Pal Foot Foot" into a rather odd, lurching electronic nightmare (but the kind of nightmare that is fascinating by its sheer grotesquerie…). Danielson Famile, who are possibly the closest thing to a modern analogue of the Shaggs, do "Who Are Parents?" and make it just as creepy as the source material (and, it must be said, include a speech impediment to rival that of the sisters’), rivalled only by Thinking Fellers Union Local 282’s stab at the same selection. Plastic Mastery manage, by investing more passion into it, to make "Shaggs’ Own Thing" twice as troublingly incestuous as the original.

Only Joost Visser’s "It’s Hallowe’en" (slightly), Furtips’ "You’re Something Special To Me" and R. Stevie Moore & The Olsiewicz-Chusid Ensemble’s "My Companion" attempt to replicate the charming stumble of the girls’ own renditions, though the occasional clumsy loop on Optiganally Yours’ version of "You’re Something Special To Me" gets close to it. At the other extreme, Bauer’s take on "We Have A Saviour" is downright gorgeous and lovely, though one can hear the seeds of their arrangement in the fumbling folds of the source.

A charming and loving affair, and one I recommend highly for fans of the odd… J

Electric Eels, The Eyeball of Hell 2xLP (Scat Records, www.scatrecords.com, www.electriceels.com)

Mercury Rev, All Is Dream LP (V2 Records, www.v2music.com, www.mercuryrev.com)

From the huge orchestral flourish that opens "The Dark Is Rising", to the very high, wispy vocals that occur on the song, this is a band that shows its hand from the get-go. This is a very pretty, orchestrated record, sort of like The Tindersticks at 45 RPM.

In fact, it is a little like mid-Sixties Beach Boys, though darker lyrically and even less grounded in reality (mysticism, philosophy and, well, dreams flow throughout the project, both sonically and wordwise). It is so far out-of-touch with anything in modern popular music, yet these ARE pop songs, and marvelous ones at that.

You have to admire an album on which Mellotrons, musical saws, cellos and theremins live together in harmony (pun mostly unintended).

The input of Tony Visconti also gives a Bowie/early glam overlay to some of the proceedings, as do long guitar lines and words that often convey feeling more than meaning.

Only "Tides of the Moon" and "Little Rhymes" really rock, but even there the guitar lines seem a part of the whole general blurry wash, as opposed to an exercise in egotistical instrument-wanking.

Listen and dream…

 

NEWS FLASH

Your friendly editor’s debut tape, Super Tim, should be finished by the time this magazine materializes. Write me at [email protected] for more details on how to obtain it. It will be 8 songs, and roughly 29 minutes in length.

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