This is a collaboration between Ui, a trio that does unclassifiable, electronically oriented music, and three members of Stereolab [Laetitia Sadier (vocals/organ); Mary Hansen (vocals) and Tim Gane (percussion)], a group with similar, if more commercial, goals.
This record contains four versions of Brian Eno's "St. Elmo's Fire", ranging from the fairly faithful "Radio Mix" to the distorted, slowed-down "Red Corona Mix". Laetitia and Mary provide the vocals, with plenty of the wordless singing typical of Stereolab tossed in, while Ui plays the music. It is electronica, roughly, though I cannot see anyone dancing or even moshing to it...
The release is rounded out with a hypnotic cover of a Ui song, "Less Time", with wordless vocalizing by the Stereolab women, and a Sun Ra composition, "Impulse Rah!", with added contributions from the musicians. It is suitably jazzy and wild, but still catchy.
All told, a pleasant record to listen to at the end of the day, and worth the investment. Judging from what I've heard of Ui, though, great admiration of this record should steer you towards Stereolab, as it is more their style, paradoxically.
This is Michael Gira of Swans fame on guitars, keyboards, harmonica and programming, plus a variety of guests on organic and electronic instruments, samples, etc. As the title suggests, two more parts are to follow. (Ed. Note: As of this revision in February, 1999, Body Haters will be made available on CD from the website of the Swans; it is not, however, Part Two, but more of a louder companion).
It is a 73.5 minute continuous instrumental composition. However, it is not without its individual highlights.
Track 1 is a lengthy drone/feedback piece. Track 2 opens with weeping by Gira's (ex?) partner Jarboe, and also features accordion. Track 5 has a beautiful choral section.
It is demanding background music - but great material to listen to while letting one's mind wander - who needs drugs or alcohol!?
A casual listener might think this a garagey recording by an all-female trio who absorbed a lot of 60s punk and electric blues records. The lack of bass, the minimal drumming and the stinging, crude guitars would reinforce those impressions.
Musically, the listener would be right, as the Rods wear their influences on their sleeves. One can certainly hear the blues, the Cramps, ska, the New York Dolls and a touch of Bo Diddley in their songstyling stew. However...
Danny (guitar/vocals) is not a biological female. His lead vocals and lyrics on "If You Can't Hang" and "Queen Bee Drag Racing", however, make it clear that he is a drag devotee and not a queen to mess with.
Margaret (guitar/vocals) is a 'real' girl (I think). However, she holds her own in fierceness and attitude on "Motor City Dragway", "Wild Child", "Doo Walka-Walka" and "Maverick Girl". She might be seductive, but it is a black widow lure.
Christine (drums/vocals) keeps a simple repetitive beat on 'her' snare and tom (my gender-judging jury is deadlocked in this case).
"Raw" goes on too long and the cover of "Spoonful" is disappointing, but the record in general is a tough masterpiece that should mess with people's minds and gender perceptions thoroughly. In a word, tasty.
Donnas are an all-female quartet from California who have been compared more than once to the Runaways. While that is, of course, facile, and, no matter what Maximum Rock 'n' Roll says, not terribly conducive to big sales or a hip reputation, there are some valid comparisons. As teenaged girls with a bad image and an affection for garage rock and metal, not to mention two members who register on my quirky 'gaydar' and some degree of jailbait marketing (there is a 1998 calendar with a picture of the girls inside the CD booklet!), the parallels undeniably exist.
The title track is absolutely the best song, since, while it says nothing new about teenaged rebellion, it is refreshing to hear it from young girls. 'You Make Me Hot' manages to rip off some of the words and melody of "Do You Wanna Touch Me?", tying the band firmly to that Joan Jett and Gary Glitter connection. "Gimme My Radio" is a great imitation of the Ramones.
It's a catchy, fun CD, and it was neat to hear the influence of the Runaways twenty years later, but I hoped it would be longer and more distinctive. Still, they're young, and they'll get better...
Yes, children - if you read the title first and then the artist's name, you get "getting off Scott Free". This is the lightest humour here, however, since it is a grim recording, if, ultimately, powerful and affecting.
Scott is responsible for the instruments, voices and production on this CD, and does everything with more than adequate skill. There is no jazz here, and the general sound is grungy rock/No Wave, but "Bad Dream" and "Prayer" have a bit more sublety to them.
Scott was a falsetto soprano in a gay choir at one point, or so his bio says, and I've been assured by him that he wasn't kidding; this CD contains no evidence for this in his gruff, howling vocals, except for the whispery quality of "Prayer".
There is, by the way, a stab at "Streets of Philadelphia" by that picket-line-crossing, friend-of-the-working-man singer Bruce Springsteen on here. I tell you this because you certainly wouldn't be able to tell without following along the track listings on the back of the CD; it is more a burial than a cover.
The track "We Chose This?" is a good set of arguments to present to those who would argue that homosexuality is a choice. The gist of the case is: would we opt to suffer so?
Of course, I would argue that the solution is in tireless fighting of homophobia, rather than going for the 'be nice to me - pleeeeeeeeeeeeease?' approach - but, let's face it, I get worn out some days too, and wish people would just leave us alone.
As I said, this CD is dark and harsh in its thrashy tempos, processed voice and justifiably pissed-off lyrics about religion, doctors, child molesters and AIDS (Mr. Free happens to have AIDS). It is also very real and compelling.
The packaging is great, featuring several glory holes from an art display by Mr. Free.
If you don't know what they are, go down to the washroom in your local police station and drill a small opening between two stalls, at just below waist level...though I suspect you'd already find them there...cops need love too. ;o)
This was recorded live over seven months on her tour. The audience is either mixed down or too scared to make noise. Of what, you say? This woman armed only with voice and piano?
This is akin to saying 'equipped only with a plane and a hydrogen bomb' where she is concerned.
The two songs about capital punishment are surprisingly sympathetic, given that she has proposed amateur castration and life sentences for rapists. I gather her vision of the condemned as she performs them does not include that particular crime...
"Iron Lady", by Phil Ochs (dedicated to Eileen Wournos, a dyke prostitute put to death in Texas a few years ago), about the electric chair, is given a sarcastic, cold, angry reading, as opposed to the somewhat stunned, incredulous take on Shel Silverstein's "Twenty Five Minutes To Go".
"Insane Asylum" and "The Thrill Is Gone" feature some of the devastating shrieks for which she is famous, characterized by eerie control and shaping.
"Si La Muerte" is unprecedented in her work, to my ears, since her voice is tender and tearful, which tends to set the lyrics' dark humour in a context of unnerving bravado and pain.
All told, a brilliantly sung, played and recorded disc, with no commercial potential whatsoever.
There are photographs by the controversial Richard Kern in this booklet, whose explicitness made it necessary to have this only available by mail-order and caused its release to be delayed, as several Georgia printers would not handle it. They are somewhat intense pictures - but they are only photography, and, I think, serve to illustrate the degraded and painful themes of the CD.
This record (whose title means someone who is unable to feel pleasure) continues the exploration of themes like religion, abusive relationships and serial killers that the Swans and Jarboe catalogue have before - but they are fertile grounds.
Songs like "Not Noah's Ark", "Rage" and "Mississippi" are explosions of disgust, fury and weariness at the state of things, and also reveal the more aggressive side of Jarboe's vocals, which tend to have a deceptive airiness to them.
Musically, it is sample-heavy and fairly electronic, though guitar, bass and drums enter effectively into several selections.
It is certainly not a cheering or reassuring record, though several tracks, such as "Sacred Disciple Wanna Be", "Anhedoniac" and "Sinner" are quite lovely in their musical content. However, if the definition of good art is something that moves your heart, mind and ass, then this qualifies in spades.
Kaia's first, self-titled album was, except for some harmonies and one violin solo, a bare-bones, one-woman affair. This one is a little more fleshed out, with the occasional bass, drums, electric guitar and keyboard part.
"Off" was my favourite track on the Move Into the Villa Villa Kula compilation, and the re-make on this album caused me to like it even more, featuring as it does some electric guitar flourishes, harmonies and a great big electro-beat.
"Where In the World Is Greencastle, Indiana?" came along at just the right time to make me feel wistful and sentimental about love. Thanks a hell of a lot :) .
"Intermission" revealed that the credit thanking New Order was not ironic.
It's hard for me to single out a favourite selection, though, because the album as a whole is cohesive and of a mood - romantic for the present, angry for the past, looking into the future with ambivalent hope. Bravo...
Yes, those San Francisco dyke punks are back, attempting to make their image more palatable, judging from the album cover (yes, that was sarcasm).
There is a cover song, the first on an album since the debut's "Think" (of all things, a Black Flag number, "Castration Song #22", though I suspect the lyrics did not originally refer to a girl named Lorena), and even a dance remix (kinda).
There are odes to women, as on every one of their releases. There are more serious songs, such as 'Ta Ta, Ta-Tas', about breast cancer; 'What The Papers Didn't Say' (about teen suicide due to abuse and being queer) and 'Prison Blues', surely their most restrained song. There is punk-funk, "Rise Above", that puts the Red Hot Chili Peppers to shame. There's even an ode to 'Het Punx'.
All told, the fairly standard mix for a Tribe 8 album - but why tamper with a good formula?
Moe should need no introduction. If she does, look into a 60s band, Velvet Underground, of which she was percussionist, in the company of: Lou Reed; John Cale; Nico; the late and lamented Sterling Morrison; and Doug Yule.
In recent years, Moe has pursued a solo career, characterized by well-chosen covers and, increasingly, earnest and wryly humorous originals.
These two EPs have no Moe compositions, sadly, or any of her inimitable drum work, as she "just" sings. However, they shine with charm and a love of rock 'n' roll.
The Grl-Grup EP has four covers of classic songs, including her second version of "And Then He Kissed Me", whose lovely violin part rivals John Cale's delicacy on the take from I Spent A Week There Last Night (1991); "Be My Baby", whose drum pattern would have suited Moe's style, though her long-time collaborator John Sluggett does a wonderful job; "To Know Him Is To Love Him", on which Moe sings very high with great sensitivity; and "Da Doo Ron Ron", a song I have always adored, and even more so now that I know more that the Shawn Cassidy rendition.
I'm Sticking With You/After Hours consists of the two songs Moe sang lead on with the Velvets. In the case of the former, it is the fourth version I know of (the one on VU, a demo take on Rhino's re-issue of Loaded and an obscure duet with Jonathan Richman precede it). Mr. Sluggett takes on the Lou Reed part, and the clarinet, the more multi-tracked vocals and the lack of drums all contribute to making it very pretty, though the bridge harmonies still jar.
After Hours is another big number for me, because of its familiar mixture of self-pity and hope. This rendition swings, and comes across as more optimistic, perhaps due to the jaunty piano and hammered dulcimer. A neat re-invention!
Taken as a whole, the two EPs are a lovely, heartwarming, fun experience - but damned if I don't long for a new album and some originals! Let us be hopeful...
Since I love well-turned pop music, and this was so described to me, I thought I'd take a chance. Of course, given the build-up I'd heard, it would have to be amazing...
It is! Imagine if the Partridge Family were real and jammed with Redd Kross and Guided By Voices. Picture a record whose first track, "Seems So", sends shivers down your back because of its sparkling wit and ambition. Then listen on and hear a song, "About Your Fame", which takes the left-behind-in-search-of-stardom feel of the Carpenters' "Superstar" and updates it with lyrical bite, while keeping the music gentle and ukulele-dominated. Even the female drummer's vocal turn, "Silver Chain", is a pop gem, though I don't care for the voice.
Track for track, this is a fabulous album, and the bonus selections on the single are just as good, if more lo-fi.
The Cramps started in 1976 in NYC, carving out a niche in garage rock with sinister lyrics and deviant, if hetero, sexuality. Surprisingly, some of their most twisted early numbers were covers, which means their record collections must contain every disturbed, bizarre song ever put to wax. They have endured hiatuses, lineup changes and label-free periods since, with the constants being Lux Interior (vox) and Poison Ivy (lead guitar). They started without a bass player, but have had one since the early 80s at least.
Except for that added instrument, their work has been amazingly consistent in sound and theme, and this LP is no exception. Despite being well into their 40s, if not actually past 50, both Lux and Ivy continue to be obsessed with sex, monsters and deviation of all kinds - and I say good for them!
Some recent Cramps LPs have been sparing in the guitar solo department; this corrects that. Ivy is in brilliant form, especially on the churning, reverberating "Like A Bad Girl Should" and the throbbing "Queen of Pain". She peels off thick chords and fuzz-tone like all the masters (and mistresses - look into Cordell Jackson and the Duchess sometime, not to mention Carole Kaye, the bass player/guitarist) of 50s raunch she admires.
Lux's voice has aged a bit, and he tends to croon more than growl, except on the rampaging "Cramp Stomp", but his attitude is still as filthy and gleeful as in the beginning.
If ever there were such a thing as a straight queer, the Cramps are a couple of them - and long may they reign in hell!