Mocha, Maxin' & Reclamation: Soundtrack v16 [Hoi Polloi – S/T -- review from Instagram]

Hoi Polloi Hoi Polloi (Folk Evaluation / Family Vineyard, 2013)

     A prized export of its time, 1972’s one-off ensemble piece from a near-dozen college pals and collaborators under the Hoi Polloi name was a work of determined ingenuity. After taking over the audio-visual department post-graduation, college-aged John Schuerman hatched a plan with rural Indiana schoolmates Charlie Bleak and Dan Mack—both whom he’d recorded as part of two volumes of student-led LPs during his schooling—along with the multi-talented Bruce Wallace (and other friends who played a supporting role) to record and self-release an album of original material. With full use of the school’s equipment at their disposal they spent two strenuous weeks of multiple takes, layering, and ping-ponging tracks between two primitive two-track tape machines. In so doing they created a surprisingly assured set of tunes, which at no point have you considering the low-budget atmosphere they were helmed in.

     The general tone plays like a well-crafted sample platter of post-psychedelic Anglophile progressive pop, with the fumes of Procol Harum, Soft Machine, Traffic, and a liberal dosing of late period Beatles (particularly McCartney) sprinkled over the platter—as well as stateside iconoclasts like Todd Rundgren. Front-loaded with two burners, there’s the bouncy, fresh as a daisy “Who’s Gonna Help Me?” with mellow-funky, tastefully in-the-pocket drums, minimal strings and horns, followed by the beatific piano and organ ballad “Old Bootstrap,” while the remainder of the A-Side offers jazzy mini-songs expertly tape-spliced together as a suite of sorts, culminating in the splendidly melodic “Satisfaction Guaranteed.” The B- bursts forth with total widescreen Todd moves in “It’s a Nice Day,” and mellow breeze vibes weave through the remaining grooves, with more melodic mastery appearing in “Stories.”

     Hoi Polloi is not an artifact of lo-fi charm, or obscurantist fantasy, but a fully-realized set to be enjoyed by all, and a personal fave-rave. Thankfully, you now have the opportunity to grasp its magic at ease, and in expansive packaging.
(The LP includes an MP3 download of the album remastered, with bonuses in the form of live versions of three album tracks—and one live tune which never saw the inside of the studio—plus three solo tunes from Hoi Polloi member Dan Mack's Shaggy Joe album and two from Charlie Bleak's Crucible LP. Reduced to a solo, acoustic setting Dan and Charlie additionally show that their talents were just as ripe in spare form. A comprehensive interview by recently departed friend, scribe and editor of The Acid Archives, Patrick "The Lama" Lundborg, forms the bulk of the liners.)




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Twilight Nuages — S/T [Review from UT #37, Spring / Summer 2014]

Twilight Nuages Twilight Nuages (Folk Evaluation, 2014)

     Connecticut 1977, high school teacher and songwriter Bill Last with pals and pupils lending the assist cuts live in his parents' basement a nine song sampling of self-penned songs to share with comrades, and send onto industry shakers soliciting placement with stars. Last’s earnest tunes resonate with a commanding simplicity, but perhaps due to the breadth of a full set, or a lack of being able to see around the rough edges, they didn’t attract the short attentions of important ears, and landed swiftly in the round file of many A&R departments.

     Despite being conceived as a pitch illustrating his songwriting skills, Twilight Nuages—which explained in the liners is "the magical hour between day and night"—reads remarkably like a well-planned collection, cohering amid tempo changes and slight variation in style, even including a two minute, breezy instrumental to close the first side. The looming presence of Macca’esque balladry is evident, but the simple and direct manner of Last’s songs—which shine brightly through even the more shambolic moments—are so charming you must entirely give yourself over to the experience. Last believed in these songs deeply, and that strong belief permeates the songs, causing others to believe via magnetism. A brief and beautiful “Intro,” shy of a minute ends in a splash, leading smoothly into the ‘hit’ of the set, “Lazy Sunday Afternoon,” with galloping piano chords, slightly askew lead vox, group backups and a gleeful kazoo solo. Other shades are found in the touches of exotica in “Rose Marie,” groovy Latin lounge vibes in “Lonely Clown,” and the previously unreleased “Nobody Loves Me,” hitting a near power pop balladry/folk-rock hybrid (the latter included in the download).

     While some may find the female students voices lending hand a tad too melodramatic, I believe they and Last alike serve the material greatly. For those with an ear-tuned to shambolic lo-fi pop, the polished real people vibes of Donnie & Joe Emerson, and school band records, you’ll find yourself ruing the fact these tracks didn’t catch on somewhere, anywhere, to rise to greater exposure. The LP includes full lyric sheets/sheet music, interviews with participants, and a loving tribute by UT contributor and project curator Jack D Fleischer.

Buy Ugly Things #37 Here!



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Anonymous — Inside the Shadow [Review from UT #36, Fall / Winter 2013]

Anonymous Inside the Shadow (Machu Picchu)

     Originally released privately in 1976 on the playfully-named, A Major Label, the Indianapolis-based combo Anonymous was led by Ron Matelic, who along with group drummer John Medvescek had been in ‘60s fuzz and mild-psych punks with a pop edge, Sir Winston & the Commons, but since their dissolution and preceding the Inside the Shadow sessions had been playing together purely for kicks, kinda making the grand-scale majesty on display here all the more impressive. Inside the Shadow is a collision of the post-psychedelic return-to-roots arena many were mining in the late ‘60s-early ‘70s (Buffalo Springfield, Byrds, CSN&Y, early Bread, etc), while retaining some of the high-flying trippiness of the pre-“goin’ up the country” (think early QMS) era, and the omnipresent influence of later ‘60s Beatles, yet it coalesces into a truly singular and unique work with its own voice intact, standing as a supreme out-of-time treasure. Having invited a few other musician friends along for the project, Matelic found his perfect foil in Marsha Rollings, with the purity of their two voices working in tandem to such a marvelous degree that I’d rate them higher than some total groups singing in unison, just awesome.

     Inside the Shadow is no in-the-dark spectacle salivated over by its unique strangeness, nor does it live in the praise-the-ineptitude realm many who chase private-press joys are forever-searching, this album literally is one of the best releases to come out the year of 1976 and it’s a travesty more people haven’t heard it. And, for those needing a toe-dippin’ entry into the possibilities of the private-press it’s as perfect and accessible as at gets—well-produced, but no overly so and played expertly—but also one of its pinnacles, so tread lightly moving forward, as there’s not a weak moment in the set to my ears. The bouncy and rollicking “Pick Up and Run,” carries as sweet a 12-string jangle as any post-McGuinn try this side of Starry Eyed & Laughing, while “Shadow Lay,” spins the spectrum of the totality of the qualities on display across this set, beginning with mellow-bred magic and ascending to hero-worthy guitar play. Quite likely the album I’ve listened to most this year and definitely in my top reissues of the last twelve months. Liners handled by Aaron Milenski (Acid Archives and UT contributor).

But Ugly Things #36 here!


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Mocha, Maxin' & Reclamation: Soundtrack v13 [Expanded version of Instagram post]

Public Enemy It Takes a Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back (Def Jam, 1988)

     At this juncture in time critically assessing Public Enemy's 1988 opus is a moot point, it's akin to speaking on the relevance of the Beatles, Stones, Hank Williams, Coltrane, et cetera. P.E. are towering figures who, indisputably, created a shift in aural environs. Anyone that doesn't at least acknowledge their achievements, regardless personal opinion, is quite plainly... D.U.M.B. Chuck D's intelligent, angered, and passionate lyrics, combined with the near minstrelsy buffer of Flavor Flav to distract from the facts, the Assault Technician given ample time to speak with his hands (DJ Terminator X), and the Bomb Squad on production—doing their name proud with ground-quaking aggression and heaviness—were a mighty, choice combination.

     Placing that all in mind, recently some memories were triggered after picking up a minty, in-shrink with promo sticker intact copy of the LP (which I hadn’t previously owned on wax) on the cheap at a block sale. So, in lieu of diving inside this modern miracle of sound—you can find plenty of that elsewhere—I'll instead relay some personal experiences that wind around this album somewhat tangentially... as I'm known to communicate...

The Birth of the Young Cannibal

     For those familiar with my writing about privately-pressed obscurities in many realms of the rock spectrum, and my affinity for '30s-'70s entrenched sounds, it may come as a surprise that all of this sprouts from my youthful background as a fanatical, faithful follower of hip-hop—where my fannish attention to detail and passionate concentration bloomed. My evergrowing interest in the history of music criticism found footing during this period, via fastidiously devouring The Source (with a non-breaking streak of every issue from late '92 through roundabout early '98 still hard-filed in the home office), Rap Sheet, Rap Pages, Word Up! / Right On!, early Vibe, XXL and the like, while inquisitions inside the lyrical choices of my fave-raves of the day served to nurture an interest in the winding roads of vocabulary.

     Radicalized at an early age, I gravitated toward the more righteous, militant and esoteric artists of the hip-hop nation, and concurrently absorbed the works of Brother Malcolm, MLK, Eldridge Cleaver and the like as a suburban, small town, teenage white kid—which all quilted together contributed greatly to a deep sense of understanding, equity, and openness to the world around me. Mine was a self-contained world in podunk Walla Walla, WA, with few comrade-in-arms, where the sounds in my portable players and the dense air of my personal haven was filled with the Native Tongues (Tribe, De La, Black Sheep—their A Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing standing as the first cassette I ever bought by my own hand), Common Sense (pre-truncation), the Roots, Black Star (as well as early solo Mos and Kweli), Brand Nubian, early Wu-Tang, Nas, Company Flow, Hieroglyphics (Del, Souls of Mischief, Casual, Extra Prolific), Aceyalone, PE, Gangstarr, Jeru the Damaja, the Def Squad (EPMD, Redman, Keith Murray, K-Solo), Eric B & Rakim, Black Moon, Big Daddy Kane, Ultramagnetic MCs, Organized Konfusion, the Pharcyde, BDP / KRS-One, early Ice Cube, Dungeon Family (Outkast, Goodie Mob, Witchdoctor), Geto Boys, Scarface, Digable Planets, Fugees, Digital Underground, early 2Pac, Pete Rock & CL Smooth, Black Moon, DITC, (Diamond D, Showbiz & A.G, Big L, OC, Lord Finesse, etc.), the Alkaholiks, Compton's Most Wanted / MC Eiht, Ras Kass, and eons more—as well as nascent threads of future nerd-outs cropping up in deciphering sample clearances and diggin' into James Brown, Parliament-Funkadelic/George Clinton, Barry White, et cetera, at as early as twelve years old

     Following the trails into activity I began cobbling together my own rhymes (and still do from time to time today... more on that at a later date), and several years later began connecting with fellow-travelers when first exposed to the interweb. This "building" occurred while I was attending a running-start program at the local community college as an adjunct to my high school studies. Among the many folks I met online was a man named Brian Dillard (aka Dabri) who was the founder of an organization for the preservation of the hip-hop culture—the four elements, natcherly: MCin', DJin', breakdancing, and throwin' up brightly hued graffitti on walls—called Ill Crew Universal (aka ICU). Within a short period of time I became an active and key member in ICU, including recruiting members to the organization. In our first three years of existence we swelled to over 80,000 members worldwide, issued a handful of compilations composed of tracks by worldwide members, and in 1997 had a big shindig in the Bay Area where many members convened to perform and build over a weekend.

     Frustrated by the strictures of institutionalized learning, and with increased involvement in ICU I opted to snatch up my GED ASAP and troop down to the Bay Area as swiftly as possible—though, a change-up with my ICU partners repositioned my final destination to Southern California (the La Puente / City of Industry area in LA County). Working together once I'd made my move Dabri exposed me to the non- hip-hop faves of his KROQ radio obsessed SoCal youth, and this is where I first became wise to '80s underground rock and punk—some of which I had faint memories of via having a sister twelve years my senior in the '80s. This was an incredibly eye-opening experience in connecting the dots for me, as up to this point I was virtually hip-hop culture bred'n'fed. Unlike many of my generation whose underground launching point was the gateway drug blast of Nirvana—I only recall irritation that Yo! MTV Raps was postponed at the time of Cobain's death—or someone with a hip older sibling or cousin, I found direction from my good friend. As an easy transition the first artists I latched onto (Dead Kennedys, the Clash, Devo, etc) with gusto carried much the same spirit as my hip-hop heroes, while I also opened my eyes back up to my pre-teen obsessions with the California Raisins singing soul classics and Chipmunks going moptop, and everything came full circle. During this time I picked up the scent for weirdos like Camper Van Beethoven, (early) XTC, Frank Zappa and Captain Beefheart. So, my initial spins fit in with the same trends and yarns I'd been following to that point.

     ICU continued to flourish and attract attention from some heavy players, though we began to have less and less time to deal with it (just trying to get by), which coalesced in meetings concerning an outside party taking over ownership of the organization and hiring us on as employees to continue and further the cause. That man was Carlton Douglas Ridenhour, better known by his stage-name... Chuck D. Though, due to personal falling outs, the position which was offered to me by Dabri to work directly under Chuck vanished into the mists, and I trailed back to the milquetoast environs of Eastern Washington state—and the deal never went down (but, another visible player was openly known to have copped some of our moves).

     This is just a brief chapter from the beginning murmurings of my future action... So, when ya see me beatin' feet down the street don't let the book deceive ya...


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Donnie & Joe Emerson — Dreamin' Wild [Review from UT #34, Fall / Winter 2012]

Donnie & Joe Emerson Dreamin’ Wild (Enterprise & Co., 1979 ; Light in the Attic, 2012)

     One of the most visible reissues of 2012 (via a combo of indie name-dropping and wildfire press spread) is also my personal fave-rave, emanating from 1979 in the very area I was born’n’bred, Southeastern Washington state. Dreamin’ Wild is the work of 17-year-old wunderkind, Donnie Emerson, seriously tuned in to whatever reached the radio in his remote locale of farm-friendly Fruitland at the time, with a heavy hankerin’ for smooth ‘70s soul/funk and mucho soft rockin’, shot through with a dose of arena-ready muscle rock. Yet the strange beauty created by isolation, unaffected child-like enthusiasm and startling sincerity makes it a beast all its own, merging these disparate threads instead of touching on different modes on a track-by-track basis. Don’t let the cover fright, there’s a stone groove goin’ on in here, despite the ultra-white (skin, jumpsuits and all) sights, the two-headed boy next door monster on the cover makes the contents all the more surprising. Plus, the tale of one proud papa literally putting up the farm to support his tenacious boys with star-bound eyes—sibling Joe Emerson handles drums on 5 of the eight tracks—in the liners is inspiring and worth the price of admission alone.

     “Good Time” leads the charge as a rollickin’ raver with the wheat-field-soul vox that lord over this wondrous release, quickly followed by “Give Me the Chance” (Donnie in a solo frame) with a worming Blaxploitation funk groove peppered with thunderous oscillations, and an aural hat trick capped off by the sweet, euphoric, burning ballad “Baby.” As a vocalist, Donnie carries fragility as a badge, with the occasional quaver, but this is nowhere near the tuneless musing of many private-press releases that take some warming to. With some studio steering—this was an entirely self-produced affair—summa the tunes on display could have been AM Gold in another world. Transmitting the moods of a lovesick teen, “Don’t Go Lovin’ Nobody Else,” wears mumbled “Jumpin’ Jack Flash”-like riffery and subtle grooves, and bringing the concept of behemoth bookends to the fore we’ve got the album ending epic “My Heart,” with a mellow metronomic vibe and overall sound kin to late-take rural psych. Has a heart so young ever ran this free?

     Dreamin’ Wild ekes out a curious spot of its own, and I recommend it to anyone that is willing to listen. Far removed from any “scene” the Emerson’s created a more polished/gentle variation of underground rock’n’roll with none of the pre-punk bile of fellow-travelers a few years prior issuing their own basement-fried psychedelic visions with none of the eyes for success, but this is just as important of a release.

[Buy Ugly Things #34 here!]

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Mocha, Maxin' & Reclamation: Round-Up #1 [Expanded from http://instagram.com/jeremynobody postings]

13 June 2014

[Soundtrack 1]

Black Oak Arkansas Black Oak Arkansas (Atco, 1971)

(More in-depth review forthcoming)

Dialing back to when the slight psychedelic hangover is in effect from their days as Stax artists The Knowbody Else.

15 June 2014

[Soundtrack 2]

Artful Dodger Honor Among Thieves (Columbia, 1976)

(More in-depth review forthcoming)

Ace sophomore album from VA's '70s power pop wonders, Artful Dodger, which paired the muscle and raunch of the Faces with a Raspberries-like dedication to songcraft. 

15 June 2014

[Soundtrack v3]

Eddie Bond Sings the Legend of Buford Pusser (Enterprise/Stax, 1973)

(More in-depth review forthcoming)

Stax subsidiary set o' pickin' and a'singin' country tunes tellin' the tales of Eddie's old pal—the legendary big, bad lawman, Buford Pusser (whose story was turnt into 1973s cult classic Walking Tall)  
[Eddie Bond previously cut some hot rockabilly sides for Ekko, Decca, Tab, etc; and toured with Jerry Lee, Carl, Roy, Warren Smith and the like in the '50s.]

(This may be the earlier single version)

17 June 2014

[Soundtrack 4]

Gary's Gang Keep on Dancin' (CBS, 1978)

The rhythm-led (drummer Gary Turnier marched at the front of this gang) kinda disco that formed the bedrock for early hip-hop and coulda been chopped up for the breakers by Bambaataa, Herc, and the like—with the occasional salsa rhythm, and break-downs galore. These sorta boogie vibes have a '80s growin' days soft spot for me even beyond a personal hip-hop connection/come-up. I copped this'un from a dollar-bin years back thinking it may be power pop or decent new wave from the cover, and have never been disappointed so smashingly. It's a solid set, but my fave-rave is "Party Tonight!" with it's near glam rock chorus/chant. [The title track was also comped by Kenny Dope on his Disco Heat set.]

19 June 2014

[Soundtrack 5]

UP Killer Up 10" (The Legendary White Panthers Garage Band from Detroit) [Total Energy, 1995]

While they may not pack quite the revelatory whallop of their Grande Ballroom comrades in the MC5 and Stooges—come on, who does??—the Up whipped up a mighty worthy proto-punk / proto-metal furor of their own, and having been a local live attraction from '67 to '73 were no bandwagon opportunists hitching on the wave of post-psychedelic / 'High Energy' Detroit sounds. The fact is, they never got their day to run in the sun, and left behind precious little recorded evidence in their wake (1 1/2 singles, with the fourth side occupied by ol' Al Ginsberg on harmonium and recitation on the proposed emancipation of John Sinclair). 

The UP served as support on the very night Jac Holzman snatched up their comrades (MC5/Stooges) for proposed Elektra fame and fortune, but were passed over—though, it wasn't for lack of skill: Franklin "Frank" Bach had character to spare and also served as Grande MC/announcer, the hammer-handed Scott Bailey showed the skins no mercy, and Rasmussen brothers Bob & Gary peeled off frenzied fuzz riffs and supplied buoyant basslines, respectively. And after the Five moved on to their own vibes UP became Sinclair's prime proselytizers, epitomizing the dope, guns, and fukcing in the streets ethos perhaps more than any other. This 10" captures a combo drifting in the same sh*t-hot proto- waters as their Panther compadres, and the more charging moments of Cheer, collecting the bulk of the recorded output. From the anthemic brush country dreams of "Just Like an Aborigine" to an incendiary take on Bobby 'Do You Wanna Dance?' Freeman's "C'mon & Swim" it all rushes by in a flash of excitement etched in wax. Plain git it!

(Gary Rasmussen later found further infamy in Detroit supergroup Sonic's Rendezvous Band along with members of the MC5, Stooges, and Rationals.)
[To get the full scoop, there's also a companion CD on Total Energy from 1995 containing a few additional studio sides and a batch of live tracks. UK label Easy Action also issued much the same material in 2010 as Rising on a CD/DVD set, adding some rare video footage.]

20 June 2014

[Soundtrack 6]

Dino Valente Dino Valente (Tomkins Square, 2013)

1968’s sole offering from Quicksilver Messenger Service founder member, Chester “Chet” William Powers, Jr—aka Dino Valenti, or Jesse Oris Farrow—cut/produced by Bob Johnston directly after Dino’s 'Big House' bid on marijuana charges, illustrates why he was an able acolyte of Fred Neil, Dylan, Karen Dalton and the like in NY’s East Village folk boom of the mid-‘60s. Valente rejoined QMS after his solo career didn’t quite catch fire as he hoped it would, though, this set bears no mark of failure—and illustrates similar mellow-mystical moments he offered to QMS’ Just for Love album. Dino Valente provides a more intimate setting, as well as giving an eye into the formation of his later contributions to the shifting sound of QMS in their ’69-’72 period.

The album displays a cultural grab-bag of styles, while maintaining a fluid coherency, including baroque, jangling harpsichord in opener “Time,” the stark, jazzy, loner vibes of “Something New,” and light orchestration wed to driving Motown’esque basslines (falling somewhere between solo Roy Wood and Rodriguez’s 2nd LP) in “Tomorrow.” Elsewhere we’re offered Eastern motifs (“My Friend”), blue notes, some experimental flair (“Test”), and distant, echoing vocals. By tapping into the more austere collective consciousness of the era, his words resonate on down the decades without some of the bad-wear some have fared. A classic to my ears, and sure to appeal to acid folk heads, those who follow the trails of early singer-songwriters, and overall lovers of ‘60s SF sounds. Dino’s S/T album is now for the first time commercially available in glorious mono, with vibrant original liners by original mover Ralph Gleason, and stands among my favorite reissues of the last 365.

 

22 June 2014

[Soundtrack v7]

Rudy Romero To the World (Tumbleweed Records, 1972)

Ex-Hardtimes member Rudy Romero (they of San Diego, CA, with a clutch of folk-rock 45s & '68 LP on World Pacific) laid down this rootsy and varied slab with detours into funky pale face soul, heavier radio rock, blues and somber ballads all filtered through an AM Pop prism, with assistance by past bandmates (Hardtimes vocalist Lee Keifer produces here), his heavy friends in Clear Light (keyboardist Ralph Schuckett), Things to Come (bassist Bryan Garofalo), the Undertakers (drummer Warren Pemerton—not to be confused with the UK-based Jackie Lomax-led combo), and some ace sessioners (lead guitarist John Ussery—more on him in future days—and backup vocalists Clydie King & Venetta Fields, both of the Blackberries). Two favorites are the mellow majesty with light orchestration of "Love Comes (When It Wants to Anyway)," and the epic title track that ends the set with sweeping orchestration, and a call for earthly preservation bursting forth with resounding piano, organ swells and pained, swirling geet licks that morph into bouncy, island-flavored pop, down-stroking to only come back in force with pulsing rhythm and spiky horn charts. Blissful.

Typical construction for the Gulf-Western-funded label, this one was lavish with a die-cut / peek-through sleeve and white vinyl (pretty heavy emphasis for a minor release in 1972). For the Beatle-heads out there there's also fair evidence (from the mouth of label shaker Robb Kunkel—more on him in future days too) that George Harrison contributed to four tracks. 

[I dedicate this entry to our dearly departed colleague and friend Patrick Lundborg, who was a big fan and cheerleader for the Tumbleweed stable, you can check some of his musings here — http://www.lysergia.com/LamaWorkshop/Tumbleweed/lamaTumbleweed.htm 

23 June 2014

[Soundtrack v9]

Medusa First Step Beyond (Numero Group, 2013)

Housed in one of the most dynamite packaging jobs I’ve seen to date (and definitely the best of the last 365), this gatefold of faux-velvet with shining gold and blood red debossing includes an illustrated version of the mythical one Medusa herself, demonic claws and ye olde sabbatic goat on the cover, while the gate is pentagram-enhanced with various vintage group visages intermingled into the blank space inside and surrounding it. But it’s not all surface joys, First Step Beyond is a space-prog opus that nips at the heels of outsiders like Hawkwind and the more heavy, moody, groove-oriented practitioners of progressive, such as Keith Relf’s post-Yardbirds outfit Armageddon.

Recorded in their hometown of Chicago by the group in 1975 and laying unreleased till now, the album is a truly singular work with no regional reference points I can muster from the time period, displaying the facility to stretch without moving into meandering monotony. There’s a pervading doom over the platter, with detours into some staying-just-long-enough musicianly breakdowns, jazz-flecked guitar leads mingling in the matter without turning to self-indulgent sub-genre exercise, and shifting moods suitable to a well-sequenced set. Standouts include the nine minutes of instrumental pulsing space metal groove “Transient Amplitude”, the internal rumblings of a cold heart warming in the ballad “Temptress”, and personal fave “Black Wizard” pushing a dark occult agenda without lapsing into theatric parody. Sure to find fans in early heavy progressive fiends, doom metal heads, the outer-lying grounds of the ‘70s American underground and those open to adventures in sound.
[Exhumed/curated by pal & collector Daniel Schlosser.]

(ahem)...If be you the sort that transits in digital, please drop your sounds here for my perusal and amusement:
Send me
your sounds
note energy (\ˈnōt\ \ˈe-nər-jē\ )
:spiritual sustenance provided by the perfect combination of notes and words, bringing about the sensation of excitation

Mornin' Java and Archive Thumbin' : Round-Up #1 [Expanded from http://instagram.com/jeremynobody postings]

12 June 2014

[Soundtrack v1]

Noel Harrison Collage (Reprise, 1967)

(Review forthcoming)

13 June 2014

[Soundtrack v2]

Tito Rivera and His Cuban Orchestra Cha Cha Cha (Golden Tone, 196?)

(More in-depth review forthcoming)

Thought this was gonna be pure square-bear dumpster fodder, but turned out to be mellow groove Afro-Cuban Cha Cha vibes.

14 June 2014

[Soundtrack v3]

Charlie Blackwell Here's Charlie (Chafay, 1975)

Seattle born'n'bred mixed bag private touching on loungey swamp-funk/rock, country balladry, classic R&B & R'n'R, gospel, blues, and more—and remarkably 3/4's original material. The man oddly played in Stan Kenton and Dave Brubeck's bands as a drummer as well. Worth the price of admission for "Voodo Man" [sic] alone.

Some of the worst / off-base dealer-hype I've read: Northern soul???

[Mine was a thrift score, I didn't buy this hoopla.]

16 June 2014

[Soundtrack v4]

"Miss America" Vonda Van Dyke Teenage Diary (Word, 1965)

Cash-in LP reflecting on the ruminations of true love and how that all boils in an age of racing hormones, pre-marital sex—physical gratification is selfish desire... the only GENUINE love is God's love, baby!—and expensive dresses/cheap morals (starring the voice talents of Miss America 1965 Vonda Van Dyke). There's also a drunken pops who pops the protagonist's suitor when thinkin' he'd touched too much shows the grown ain't got it all figured. Sad, sad stuff... Voice-overs and dialogue are shot-through with groovy instrumental interludes (prom celebrations at a Tiki bar), and distant, ethereal singing. Any "higher choice" ya wanna indulge in gets my vote if that makes you wanna be a better hoo-man, but this kinda heavy-handedness is always a major source of amusement for me.
['Twas originally a 1960 scare film that can be procured from Something Weird Video in a combo pack along with early HG Lewis treat The Alley Tramp]

More info here — http://blog.wfmu.org/freeform/2007/09/365-days-265.html ; http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0480469/

[Soundtrack v5]

Richard Kimble ...IN ACTION (Vista International Productions, 197?)

Paper doll-style cut-out action shots on front slick represent the lively Canuck performer described by a Variety Mag critic as, "A bright, brisk, sexy bundle of energy, who communicates with his audience like a magnet!" on this covetable private lounge treat. I'm partial to the B-side where the groovy smaltz and Twilight Zone Holiday Inn vibes kick into high-gear, with my brand o'kicks dialing into the "Charlie Rich Medley" ('specially "The Most Beautiful Girl in the World" take!), and "Memories (The Way We Were)" [which I later found my pal Mike Ascherman comped on The Worst Lounge Extravaganza Ever—click title for download] , but the whole side's a kick in the gut for those searching ace lounge vibes—and the set ends with "The Impossible Dream" NATCH'LY!

More here — http://themotellounge.blogspot.com/2011/03/richard-kimble-in-action.html?m=1

17 June 2014

[Soundtrack v6]

Berringer Takin' A Chance (Gambler Prods, 1982)

IL Lounge / AOR / SSW Soft Rock at its best when the synths get stuck on overload, the guitar kicks in, and there's a frantic, ramshackle disco-like rhythm pulsing in the background—the heat is in the upbeat—otherwise it's 3/4 melodramatic balladry (which has bursts of promise, but is pretty ho-hum). Worth the price of admission for "Love Is A Lonely Way to Feel," and the two-part title track also holds attentions (there's even a brief drum solo/break in the 2nd part!). "Magic in the Eyes of Love" and "Dreamer" also serve some hooky joys. Only to be entered by the open and adventurous.

18 June 2014

(First, can we forgive Dave Edmunds' role in foisting the Stray Cats upon us? Now enjoy...)

[Soundtrack v7]

Dave Edmunds Get It (Swan Song, 1977)

Even if you don't dig throwback vibes, ya gotta admit Edmunds did it better than many, was adept in various modes, and was an ace at connecting the faint threads of good pop music that transcend genre—and his collaborations with Nick Lowe are (yessir!) undeniable. Stabs at teener balladry ("Where or When"), Bakersfield jones' ("Worn Out Suits, Brand New Pockets"), gentle nods to godhead Sahm ("Juju Man"--penned by under-legend Jim Ford, and cut at an earlier session in '75), and classic Lowe-assisted numbers ("I Knew the Bride," "Here Comes the Weekend," "What Did I Do Last Night?," and "Little Darlin'") make it hard to pinpoint the '50s-early '60s gems from the pastiche. (The Arthur 'Big Boy' Crudup by way of Elvis gem "My Baby Left Me" even dates back to '69 with superb, scorching backing from Love Sculpture). Even with slight tweaks all tunes carry the waft of Edmunds, combining his love for '50s Sun slapback rockabilly and pre-Brit Invasion pop, and filtering other kicks through that prism (plus, if you watch the songwriting credits close it could be debated Edmunds knew his way around a hook just as well as Saint Nick—Lowe, natch). Like his first two sets the majority of instruments are executed by the name on the cover, though here he finds gentle assistance from a few pals as well (members of Brinsley Schwarz, Chilli Willi and the Red Hot Peppers, the Rumour, Man, Love Sculpture)—and a handful of tracks see the embryonic pieces of Rockpile begin to fall outta the womb.

I bend my ear close to the Lowe-assists, but that's just where one man's interests lay. I take umbrage to a take on Hank's "Hey Good Lookin'" (ya can't mess with perfection, after all), 'tis solid throughout otherwise, though.

(ahem)...If be you the sort that transits in digital, please drop your sounds here for my perusal and amusement:
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note energy (\ˈnōt\ \ˈe-nər-jē\ )
:spiritual sustenance provided by the perfect combination of notes and words, bringing about the sensation of excitation