A bounty of Poster Children downloadables.

So, tonight I blew off a swank opening party of a film festival, which I could have gone to with a really cute gal. Now, keep in mind that I got to spend a bit of time with said cute gal today, and will be able to spend more time with her in the upcoming weeks. But still. Party? Appetizers? Drinks? No, I'm at home, writing on my blog. What can I say? Sometimes I forget how to be sociable, I've gotten so used to sitting around by myself. It's not an excuse, just something that happened. But I'm having my own drinks and appetizers, and I'm writing about Poster Children.

Oh! Mighty Poster Children! Formed at the University of Illinois Shampoo Banana in 1987, and still (slightly) active today. They've slowed down quite a bit, but we had the great honour of playing with them at two of their five shows in 2009, and they have not lost a step. Andy Lester had not seen them in their current incarnation, with drummer Matt, and he was pretty amazed. Justifiably so, as Matt was ON FUCKING FIRE at the 2009 shows. I also got to point at Rose, and say to my pal Anya, "See how much I rip off from her?" Anya nodded in agreement.

I think I've seen them more than any other band. They've never disappointed. I actually did not like them the first time I saw them, in Green Bay, on February 27th, 1997. But it was my fault, as I had not brought earplugs and they were very loud. Luckily, I was dragged to their show in Madison the next night, and I understood. So good, this band. So unassumingly wonderful. Possibly egoless, just fueled by the sheer power of good music. Purveyors of the best tour diaries on Earth (except, maybe, those by Michael Dalquist.) I don't listen to their records all the time these days, because I don't have to. They sing in my head, and I can recall so many songs that way.

They have taught us much as a band, as Fugazi taught them. How to be a good, independent rock and roll band, how to tour on a budget, how to be nice people who support their scene. They have always supported us, not necessarily in a mom-and-dad sort of way, but maybe more in a proud-uncle-and-aunt fashion. All of this means a lot to me, but on top of all of it, they are just a damn good band. We brought them up to play a show in Manitowoc way back in 2002, and it was a damn good one. I remember standing next to Rose while Death and Taxes played, and pointing at Matt, on the edge of the crowd. "Look at your drummer!" I crowed, as he dove into the crowd and started a mosh pit. She grinned, and so did I. We had to follow them that night, and I was awfully anxious. They brought it, as they always did, and we had to match it. It's a proud thing for me to say, but I think we did. Those are our best nights, really, when we're up against Poster Children or NoMeansNo or Enon, and we hold our own. That's when I think we're a good band.

Anyway, enough of this blah-blah-blah. As any good internet-mp3-blogger type will do, I was reading another blog. Specifically the mighty Power of Independent Trucking, home of the amazing Joy Division and New Order remasters, amongst many other wonderful things. Browsing around in all of this, I stumbled across this post, beseeching all us anonymous folk to come forward with a copy of Toreador Squat, an early tape that Trouser Press described as "a raw, basic, set-length cassette for admirers of the band's live shows." "Oh, I have that!" I thought to myself. "But my old rip kinda sucks. I should do an upgrade!"

So I did.



Here it is. I tried to futz around with FLAC, but I couldn't figure out, using their frontend, how to convert the files. So, seeing as it's direct from cassette and all, I figured fuck it, I'll just put it up as wav files. So, this is a big download. Like 300mb. But you can handle it. Also included are a few tracks released on Chambana-area comps that Carlin gave me. Tracks as follows:

1. Hollywood USA
2. the Bump Bump Song
3. Rain On Me
4. Detective Tracy
5. Carrie Look Ahead
6. And So It Goes (the Skanky Song)
7. Jeremy Straight
8. White Noise (Black Light) (aka Question)
9. The Un-Reggae Song
10. Carver's of NYC
11. State of Mind
12. the Weenie Song
13. Five Minutes
14. the Half-Time Song

The cassette-deck-to-laptop setup I used to transfer this had some sort of automatic noise-eliminating action going on, possibly due to the low output from the deck. It didn't seem to affect the songs, though, just the silences between the songs, so I let it be. Many of these tunes showed up on their first real album (or even their second!) in superior versions. I think the demo take of "Rain on Me" is better, though, and it's a tragedy that this is the only recording of "Carrie Look Ahead," a lovely song about how life pretty much sucks. Includes scans of the insert, so you can make yourself your very own Toreador Squat!

Bonus tracks are:
-Where We Live
-It's True
-Eye
-White Noise
-Cinnamon Girl

Yes, that "Cinnamon Girl." I suppose I would have been much more surprised to hear that if I hadn't seen PKids do "All Along the Watchtower" at the Cowboy Monkey last year.

Oh, and hey! You know what? Just because I love you, here's a board tape of their set at the Great Cover Up, back in 1998. They did Talking Heads that year. The set-ender of "Once in a Lifetime" is pretty chaotic, but "Memories Can't Wait" is a jewel.

I think that's all I have, unless anybody needs the "Copyright" self-bootleg of singles and comp tracks. I can post that, if necessary. Anyway.

Dear Pkids, love you. Keep it up.
-josh

A faux-academic deconstruction of Use Your Illusion, composed while drunk.

Since its release in 1968, rock critics and other nerds have been playing the game of "Cut the White Album down to one LP." This game is surely less common these days, as its flaws and foibles have been accepted as a larger portrait of the group in dissolution (that's not to say it's no longer possible - my own CD burn, for example, excludes any song featuring the words "honey" or "pie.")

The early '90s version of this game is less likely to go out of style, as it features a far less beloved, or important, work. Use Your Illusion is generally regarded as the work of a band full of drug addicts, led by an egotist and his quickly bloating sensibilities. And bloated it is: the total time clocks in at over 152 minutes, making it a QUADRUPLE ALBUM. Yeesh. But so, the academic question: is there a quality album buried somewhere in those eight sides? I think there is, and I'm willing to go song-by-song to find it.

(Note: interestingly enough, GNR themselves (or someone on their behalf) have attempted this exercise. We will return to that later on.)

Now, this is 1991 we're talking about here, so we're going to give GNR the benefit of 80 minutes, a double album. They're a gigantically successful band, they're allowed that. So, starting from the top:

"Right Next Door To Hell": Despite Axl's hilarious mid-song shriek of "FUCK YOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU, BITCH," this is a great, riff-driven opener. STAYS.

"Dust 'n Bones": Not awful, but not sung by the lead singer. Such things are destined for b-sides. Also goes on for-fucking-ever. GOES.

"Live and Let Die": Doofy cover song? I don't care how much time you spent on the fake strings (which, honestly, do sound pretty amazing,) this shit screams b-side. GOES.

"Don't Cry (Original Version)": Fuck. It's really hard to objectively listen to this song after to many years of overexposure, but I think it fills the power ballad slot. Overwrought, sure, but probably the most heartfelt slow song on here. Probably because it was like ten years old by this time. STAYS.

"Perfect Crime": Solid riff, but totally sunk by the lyrics. Any song with a chorus that goes "It's the perfect crime/goddammit it's the perfect crime/motherfucker it's the perfect crime/I SAID IT'S PERFECT!" is laughable. Allowed on the album will be the harmonized demonstration of counting in the middle. GOES.

"You Ain't the First": Acoustic waltz, again not sung by the lead singer. GOES.

"Bad Obsession": Real heavy on the honky-tonk vibe, here, with the slide guitar, harmonica, and piano. But not awful, somehow. Maybe it's the disco bass that shows up in the choruses. STAYS.

"Back Off Bitch": Seriously. What's redeeming about this song? What makes it worth listening to? Nothing I can think of. Wuh-uh-oh-LAME. GOES.

"Double Talkin' Jive": Like "Back Off Bitch" without the level of stupidity in the lyrics. Although they're still pretty stupid. This really sounds like they're not particularly trying to, y'know, write a good song or anything. GOES.

EDIT: OH FUCK I FORGOT THE STUPID "SPANISH"-STYLE ACOUSTIC ENDING TO THIS STUPID HALF-ASS SONG GOOD THING I ALREADY DITCHED IT

"November Rain": Okay, gets kind of tough here. This song is iconic, a signpost about what GNR were all about at this point. And I think that's exactly why I want to exclude it. It's SO fucking overblown, right from the top, with the retarded "symphony" intro and the thunderstorm effects, and the rolling mallets on the cymbals...by the time the vocals start, it's already annoying. An ace Slash solo can't redeem it. Oh, and not to mention the coda, which could have gone entirely. Here's the exercise: try to separate this song from your memories of it. Don't think of the video, don't think of the first time you heard it...hear it now. Listen to it. It's crap. GOES.

"The Garden": Yet another song dredged up from the pre-Appetite days. Boring, repetitive, and outright wastes Alice Cooper. GOES.

"Garden of Eden": Now, this one, I dig. Racing tempo, cool riff, two and a half minutes of nonstop kickass. Even manages to overcome the weird whooshing sound effects. STAYS.

"Don't Damn Me": Not awful, but again, feels like filler. We know, Axl, everybody's out to keep you quiet. You just keep speaking your mind, and the truth, pal! GOES.

"Bad Apples": Man, this is getting pretty dire. I'm starting to rethink my desire to ditch "Dust and Bones." This one's kinda "bluesy," sorta "funky," has weird talkin' breakdowns, and is pretty much bad. GOES.

"Dead Horse": I love this song without reservation. I'd say it's the best song on I, maybe the best on the whole set. It combines everything I like about Appetite and Lies all in one four-minute package. Classic don't-let-life-get-you-down-even-though-that's-exactly-what-it's-doing subject matter, too. STAYS.

"Coma": The intro brings this one closer than you'd think to being included, but I just can't justify keeping ten minutes of this Bloodrock semi-ripoff (P.S.: looks like I subconsciously stole this comparison from Mark Prindle. Credit to you, you beautiful bastard! I READ YOUR BOOK!). Goddamn, that's a good riff, though...almost. Sunk by bits like "Zap the sonovabitch again." GOES, just barely.

Okay, that's the end of volume one. We are at just over 20 minutes. Looks like we're gonna come in early on this, right? Well, read on...

Days later, I come to whiskey and rock, and here we are, USE YOUR ILLUSION II. We begin:

"Civil War": When people think about the "classic" songs from these albums, "Civil War" is easily among them. It's a bit histrionic and definitely overlong, but shows genuine concern for the general concept of "war," and how it's probably bad or something. Good tune, all the same. STAYS.

"14 Years": I know, I know. I made a whole big deal about having the lead singer sing on the songs, earlier. But Axl sings on the choruses of this one, it's about Izzy and Axl's friendship (soon to collapse,) and there's gotta be at least one example of the three or four songs on UYI that sound like this. STAYS.

"Yesterdays": Sounds like another dashed-off who-gives-a-shit song, complete with heinously out-of-tune vocals. It's like these songs are all "Think About You," except this one actually sounds like a slow version of "My Michelle." GOES.

"Knockin' On Heaven's Door": Oh, good, another lazy cover. With reggae/gospel inflections, no less! And what the hell is up with the fake phone call? Who thought this shit was listenable? GOES.

"Get in the Ring": All right, people, this is where it gets serious. On one hand, this seems like a throwaway track, just another excuse for Axl to yell at people he hates (or who are vaguely not serving his purposes, it's not particularly clear.) But it's a good rocker, and something about it is so goddamn AUDACIOUS that it's hard to ignore. And in all honesty, Axl's pussy whining in the spoken-word bit just makes me giggle. How many times in my life have I randomly spouted "Bob Guccione Jr. at Spin?!?" Many times, many times. STAYS, somehow.

"Shotgun Blues": See, this is exactly why "Get in the Ring" made it. Coming after that, this song just sounds dull and indistinguished. GOES.

"Breakdown": According to the Wikipedia entry (and Slash's book) this song was really difficult to get right. Huh. Too bad it wasn't particularly worth it. Seems like the random breakdown (oh, I get it, ha ha ha ha!) at the end is indicative of the slack attitude of the whole tune here. GOES.

"Pretty Tied Up": An uninspired tune, with another set of particularly misogynistic lyrics. Sheesh. GOES.

"Locomotive": Wait, wait. Eight and a half minutes? Is there something that I don't remember in this song? Something else than generic blues-chug with badly off-time vocals in the choruses?

(six minutes later) A piano-led coda! Oh, sure! That makes SOME FUCKING SENSE AT ALL. GOES.

"So Fine": GNARRRRGH. It sounds like they're ripping off the beginning of their own cover of "Live and Let Die," except it's a whole song, and apparently it's about Johnny Thunders. It sounds like meta-bullshit. GOES.

"Estranged": Yes, they're allowed one epic. ONE. And it's this one. The lyrics are bearable (somewhat,) the exploded song structure makes sense in context, and Slash's guitar work is so good that even Axl had to thank him for it. STAYS.

"You Could Be Mine:" The last of the absolute classics on UYI, in fact, the last worthwhile song on the damn thing. This could have been on Appetite and no one would have blinked an eye (apparently, the song germinates from early sessions for that record.) Check out those nifty harmony vocals in the chorus! And the suitably apocalyptic middle eight! Even if Axl's lifting lyrics from Bernie Taupin (carefully noted in the liners, no less,) it's worth it. STAYS.

"Don't Cry (alternate lyrics)": Same song, different vocals. You can get away with this treacle once, but not twice. GOES.

"My World": Oh, hee hee hee! Hee hee! Oh, hee hee hee! Oh, Axl. If this had been a hidden, "bonus" track, you probably could have gotten away with it as a joke. Instead, it is the official closer to your magnum opus. God only knows what you could have been thinking, but it wasn't anything smart. GOES.

Total time of selections from volume II? 33 minutes. Our total time is 53 minutes, a solid 53 minutes, five songs from each volume. Yes, folks, this could have been the power-packed followup to Appetite. In original order:

-"Right Next Door To Hell"

-"Don't Cry (original version)"

-"Bad Obsession"

-"Garden of Eden"

-"Dead Horse"

-"Civil War"

-"14 Years"

-"Get in the Ring"

-"Estranged"

-"You Could Be Mine"

Needs some sequencing, but a damn good record, right there. Now! Interestingly, and as I mentioned before, GNR attempted to cover this territory themselves. In 1998, someone (god knows who) threw together a bunch of non-swearin' tunes from the two albums, and called it plain ol' Use Your Illusion. Here is its tracklisting:

"Live and Let Die"

"Don't Cry" (original)

"You Ain't the First"

"November Rain"

"The Garden"

"Dead Horse"

"Civil War"

"14 Years"

"Yesterdays"

"Knockin' on Heaven's Door"

"Estranged"

"Don't Cry" (alternate)

Not entirely off from my selection, but manages to include BOTH cover songs and BOTH versions of "Don't Cry." Yipes.

And that is how I have played the game. Agree? Disagree? It hardly matters. The point is, there's a good album in there somewhere. If you don't like my version, surely you can find one yourself. I know it's in there.

Three shows by the Dismemberment Plan, and a story.

This began as a sort of rebuttal. A website called nyctaper claimed to have the earliest live tapes of the Dismemberment Plan floating around the internets, from a show in 1999. "Allow me to scoff!" I said to myself, being in possession of two tapes of the Plan from 1997 and 1998. But therein lies a tale, of my first experiences with a band I really loved, and how one of them managed to break my heart a bit...

I saw the Dismemberment Plan for the first time on March 29th, 1998. They were playing with Calvin Krime at our long-lost beloved home base, the Concert Cafe, in Green Bay, WI. I'd brought a Marantz tape recorder up from Oshkosh to record the show, but something went wrong with the deck, and nothing was recorded. I had a wonderful time, though, and met the Dismemberment Plan for the first time. Good guys. The next night, they played in Madison. I couldn't go (I think I had to host a show on WRST), but DJ went, along with the Marantz. The basement of the house (in which resided various members of illustrious Madison band Paris, Texas) was flooded, and the Plan (and the Krime) had no choice but to play in the living room. In order to not anger the neighbors, both bands played semi-unplugged sets. Calvin Krime could only re-configure three songs in such a manner, but the Dismemberment Plan played seven tunes, including some new ones. Later, in exchange for a copy of the tape, someone from Paris, Texas gave DJ a copy of Emergency & I, which was still under major label clutches at the time.

The Dismemberment Plan in Madison, WI. 3/30/98.

As I said, I wasn't there. But I listened to the tape all the time, and soon had acquired both of their albums to date. What a fucking band! Combining various bits and pieces of Brainiac, Shudder to Think, and things I didn't even know about, those records itched with creativity and fun. And the new songs, from the tape? Well, there were some prettier melodies (like "The City," and "A Life of Possibilities," songs that ached, but somehow fit with raucous jams like "Academy Award") but overall things seemed to be heading down the same path. Over the years, we saw the Plan here and there in Wisconsin, and got to know them a bit. Eric was always a sweetheart, as was Jason. I never did chat with Joe much, but he seemed like a nice enough fellow. Travis, well...

Back in the early days, Travis was as nice as the rest of the band. Glad to hang out with us nerds, although a little standoffish, perhaps? It's hard to think back that far, but it seemed like he was cool. Somewhere in there, though, things began to change a bit.

Before we get to all that, let's go a little bit backwards: at some point, I got a tape of the Dismemberment Plan at the Concert Cafe from 11/18/97. I wasn't there, but this is a good overview of the Plan we knew at the time. There's a particularly unhinged version of "OK Joke's Over" here that absolutely brings the ruckus, along with such oddities as an early, slow version of "I Love A Magician" and a trombone-inclusive "One Too Many Blows To The Head" (which, unfortunately, is missing a piece towards the end due to a tape flip).

The Dismemberment Plan at the Concert Cafe, in Green Bay, WI. 11/18/97.

Now, this was back in the day when I had long, long hair, and a large chin-beard. I was shy back then, and I hid behind lots of hair and baggy clothes. I can recall saying hello to Travis at a show, and his reply: "Man, you just have more hair every time I see you." It didn't seem to be meant affectionately, either.

They stopped coming through Green Bay, but they did hit Milwaukee fairly often, and we drove down to see them. We delighted in surprising them here and there, whether it was showing up at a Fugazi show in DC ("What the hell are you guys doing here?") to having our internet friend Guti give us a shout-out when they were opening for Pearl Jam in Germany (Guti:"Hey Travis! The Pop Machine says hello!" Travis:"Oh! Well...I say hello back!")

The Dismemberment Plan at the Globe, in Milwaukee, WI. Possibly sometime in 2000.

I searched far and wide for an interview I remember reading back when "Change" was about to come out. I thought it was on Pitchfork, but evidence of it seems to mostly have disappeared. Anyway, it was an interview with Travis, and he said something along the lines of "Nobody liked us until we became tortured." I recall being furious. Oh, really? Nobody? That one hurt. As if everyone who'd supported his band until then was so much dogshit on his heel. Hey, man, we weren't doing the standing still. We were dancing our asses off. Even if "Change" was a pretty terrible record. Hey, at least it had "Superpowers" and "Time Bomb" on it.

All of this eventually culminated in the Dismemberment Plan's final tour. We heard they were playing requests! We'd seen pictures of Travis, trombone (brought by an audience member) in hand, playing "One Too Many Blows!" Nice! DJ tried to convince me that it wasn't going to be that kind of request show, they wouldn't just play anything. I wouldn't believe it. What kind of band would ask for requests from the audience, then not play them? I knew what I wanted to hear: a song called "Manipulate Me," from their second album. It was a fucking jam, and they never played it. Perfect opportunity, right?

I was writing for a local, long-gone webzine at the time, and I got tickets and an interview hookup for the Milwaukee show through them. Somehow (I'm still not sure where the confusion started) I ended up at the wrong theater, and barely got to the show in time. Outside, after haggling with the ticket booth operator for my will-call, I spotted Travis.

"Hey, man! How are you? I was, uh, supposed to do an interview with you guys, but I went to the wrong theater."
"Oh," said Travis. "You didn't want to do it now, did you?"

The shyness (which I still haven't really shaken) kicked in. "Uh...no, I guess not." Travis went inside. I got in line.

Soon enough, the Plan were onstage, and they were stellar. They played some songs, and then it was request time. Hands went up all over the place, and though I was right in front, I didn't know if I'd be called on. Lots of folks wanted to hear their favorite song (I even recall seeing a sign someone was holding, way back in the crowd, that read "Can We Be Mature?") There was a crazy dance party onstage during "the Ice of Boston," as there often was, and wires were unplugged. There was a lull, as things were being sorted out, and Travis scanned the crowd for another request.

He pointed at me. I thought about what DJ had said, how they had claimed not to remember various songs earlier in the requests...but I still looked at Travis and said "Manipulate Me!"

He paused, looked me in the eye, and said "I knew I shouldn't have called on you."

Fuck. Did I deserve that? Did I deserve to get dissed in front of this whole audience? Travis went over to the other side of the stage, called on someone who picked "Ellen and Ben" or some other bullshit song, and that was that. I really felt like an ass.

A few songs later, the show was done, and everyone began to file out. We tracked down Eric, and had a lovely conversation about future plans. But Travis' words sat there, in my head:

"I knew I shouldn't have called on you."

That hurt, too. So I didn't feel bad when indie-arbiters-for-some-goddamned-reason Pitchfork threw Travis' first solo record under the train. And there was a decent amount of schadenfreude when he announced his retirement. I don't know. I don't mean this to be a character assassination or anything like that. Maybe he thought he was joking, the whole time. All I can tell you is what I remember.

God dammit. I shoulda said "If I Don't Write."

Belt Buckle 7"

Hey, here's something!

This is one of many myriad Lou Barlow side projects, this one featuring Bob Fay (also from the Sebadoh) and Eric Matthews, who was in Cardinal, a band I have never heard.

This record? Eh, it's okay. "Mary Hair" is a good tune.




Belt Buckle (Sonic Bubblegum 1993)
1) Judas Suicide
2) Pocket Skylab
3) Mary Hair
4) Girl Who Reads

http://rapidshare.com/files/308815471/belt_buckle.zip

Voodoo Love Mint

Oh, shit, I'm actually posting something in here! I know, I've slacked off hardcore at doing this. I'd say I'll pick it up again soon, but making promises isn't a good idea. Anyway...

What we've got here is two full albums, a 7", and one sweet cover of "Funeral Pyre" by the Jam, all by 90's Madison/Eau Claire/Minneapolis band Voodoo Love Mint. I'd describe them as the pop side of AmRep, particularly as all their stuff was recorded by Tim Mac. Boy-next-door vocals, high enough in register to be urgent, over meaty guitars and semi-busy drums, all at quick tempo. Also with a decent sense of humor, as indicated by song titles like "Too Hungover To Come Over," "My Parents' Waterbed," and "I Just Came From Space."

Their first album, Something In French, is a good record, but a little indistinguished. They hadn't figured out where exactly they were going yet, but Small Pet O.K. posits them right in the spot. My only complaint about this record is about the recording. It just sort of...sounds like a demo. It needs more balls. This maybe says something about the difference in taste between now and ten years ago, and I'm sure it sounded fine at the time (I didn't notice anything until I dug this out recently,) but it doesn't really matter when you've got songs as catchy as "Ambrosia" and "Roasted Flesh Daily." And the single sounds fine, so I dunno. I also dunno how "Crab" and "Moon over Miami" didn't end up on the album. So fucking good!

Apparently, these days the guitar and bass guys are in a band called the Jaggernauts, although VLM have been playing a gig now and again as well.


Voodoo Love Mint - Something in French - 1995 Angry Seed Records
1) Gunnar
2) Torque
3) Yoko Ono
4) The Service
5) Mean Robot
6) Castor Oil
7) Whup Ass
8) Tutu
9) Pike
10) The Coug


Voodoo Love Mint - Small Pet O.K. - 1998 Erosion Records
1) Ambrosia
2) Bar Song
3) Too Hungover to Come Over
4) Heart
5) Fun With Bugs
6) Hot Bowl
7) My Parents' Waterbed
8) Colonel
9) Kissing Death
10) Roasted Flesh Daily
11) Bucket
12) Light
bonus track: I Just Came From Space (live)

Voodoo Love Mint - The Dreaded California Icepick Tests - 1998 Sterling Records
1) Roasted Flesh Daily (note: same as album version, thus not included in .zip file)
2) I Just Came From Space
3) Crab
4) Moon Over Miami

Various Artists - When You're Young: Songs Originally Recorded by the Jam - 1998 Youth Explosion
18) Voodoo Love Mint - Funeral Pyre

http://rapidshare.com/files/293079240/Voodoo_Love_Mint.zip

David Bazan in my living room!

This spring, David Bazan did a solo acoustic tour of house shows, to make some money while he waited for the promotion machine to get rolling on his new album (out Sept. 1.) On April 9th, he played at our house in Milwaukee, WI. I asked David if I could tape the show, and he said I could as long as I edited out any of the Q&A stuff he usually does if I were to put it online. I hadn't actually considered doing that until he suggested it, but sure! So here it is, in mid-fi quality:

http://www.megaupload.com/?d=JN4469WH

It's a wonderful show, he's a great guy, and you should buy his new album Curse Your Branches, as well as see him when he comes to your town.

Slaughterhouse Rd. - two singles

If you're a Milwaukeean, you know what a sadness the loss of Atomic Records has been. But this loss came with a silver lining: the purging of the archives. Week by week, records appeared, seemingly from nowhere (or, at least, the basement) and suddenly for sale. Personally, I spent probably about $400 during Atomic's last few months, and I fully intend to display the spoils here.

Rescued from the local 7" bin were two records by a band called Salamander Rd. I'd never heard of them, but saw that their lineup featured Dan Hobson from Killdozer and Spud from Appliances-SFB (along with some dude named Roger Ewalt, who played bass and sang). Picked up both of 'em, and they're pretty good. Largely what you'd expect from a Killdozer/A-SFB hybrid.

The first 7" came out on Bovine Records, out of Madison. They'd go on to put out a bunch of cool stuff, including a Floor single, a Turbonegro single, and the very first Agoraphobic Nosebleed record! It was recorded at Smart Studios by some asshole named Butch Vig (erm, and a guy called Doug Olson, who's probably an okay fella.)

Slaughterhouse Rd. - Salamander - 1990 Bovine Records

1. Salamander

2. the Best Thing

3. the Lord Loves a Workin' Man

Their second single, "Viroqua," was self-released. Viroqua's an okay town.

Slaughterhouse Rd. - Viroqua - 1990

1. Viroqua

2. Between the Reigns

(images blatantly stolen from this site, cos I don't have a scanner)

They put out a third single in '92, but it wasn't at Atomic. If anybody has it, I'd love to hear it!

http://www.megaupload.com/?d=4PWS0IGL

Timbuk3 - Austin City Limits 4/22/1989

Our friend pAt mAcdonAld is playing at Cactus Club tonight. I can't go, cos I gotta work in the morning. But I can at least talk about him a little bit here...

(note - I cribbed a few of these paragraphs from something I wrote over at Superstarcastic. Why do the work again when it's already good?)

In early 1989, PBS’ seminal program Austin City Limits was still largely the province of middle-of-the-road/fairly obscure country acts, and thus not usually within my sphere of interest. However, flipping by channel 12 one afternoon, I saw a commercial for that evening’s broadcast, featuring Timbuk3 and Eric Johnson. Now, Eric Johnson was on the charts with his tune “Cliffs of Dover,” which still holds up pretty well for being a G3-virtuoso-guitar-led instrumental. I dug that. So I set a tape to record it later that night.

I think I watched the Johnson segment maybe once. I got a lot more out of the other half of the episode. I was familiar enough with Timbuk3’s one and only hit single, “The Future’s So Bright, I Gotta Wear Shades” (also known as “Mainstream America Will Never Understand Irony (At Least Not In Song Form)”) but I hadn’t heard anything further. But there they were, Pat MacDonald and Barbara K, opening the show with “Dance Fever.” Their rhythm tracks were on a big reel-to-reel that sat behind them, revolving impassively. Their songs were witty, incisive (in ways I couldn’t even understand yet) and catchy as hell. Naturally, I tracked down every damn record they ever did, and started listing Pat amongst my fave songwriters, if anyone asked (they rarely did).

Most of this half-hour show is drawn from their first two albums, Greetings From Timbuk3 and Eden Alley (my personal favorite). It also includes the delicate, dazzling "Wheel of Fortune," which would show up on their third album, an otherwise unknown (presumably early, given the introducing remarks) song called "Will You Still Love Me When I'm Dead?" and an old tune called "Looking for Work." That one was originally recorded by Pat's old band, the Essentials. I'll put up their stuff here if I really want to embarrass the hell outta him. In its first incarnation, it was a bouncy little new wave thing, and not that exciting. Here, it's been slowed down to a bluesy dirge, and it's a standout among standouts.

Skip forward a number of years, to 2003 (or so, my memory for time is always kinda hazy). Our new utility infielder Sean was from the Madison area, and he told me that he knew Pat through friends of friends. Well, okay. Sean had no reason to lie to me (nor was he), but it didn’t really mean much beyond that. And it wouldn’t have if Pat hadn’t played in Neenah, where we all lived. But sure enough, he played, Sean introduced us, and suddenly I knew one of the best songwriters I’d ever heard. It was kind of weird. But Pat’s a nice guy, and as I came to see him more often (particularly after moving to Milwaukee), we got to know each other pretty well.

For the last few years, we've played at the Steel Bridge Songfest, at Pat's invitation. It's a great cause and a great time, and a good way to meet some real cool musicians while drinking like fishes in the Sturgeon Bay. We don't get to hang out with Pat much up there, he's so busy keeping things together. But it's a nice feeling to know that he wants us rabble-rousers up there. And we always try to get out and see him whenever he plays Milwaukee. Maybe this time I'd have talked to him about seeing this show, when I was just a pre-teen with ears wide open. Well, there's always next time...go see Pat when he's in your town. Buy him a shot of whiskey or two.

So here it is, from hifi stereo VHS to cassette to CD to MP3. Somewhere in the journey, the last two songs got stuck together.
1) intro
2) Dance Fever
3) Life is Hard
4) The Future's So Bright, I Gotta Wear Shades
5) a question
6) Looking For Work
7) Sample the Dog
8) Wheel of Fortune
9) Will You Still Love Me When I'm Dead?/I Need You

http://www.megaupload.com/?d=6NXN7FW3

Timbuk3's discography is entirely out of print. There are some copies of their live album available on the official website, but the older albums were released on IRS Records, so that stuff is long gone. Their last album was released on a division of, no shit, Windham Hill. That stuff will all show up here at some point.

Medicine - Off the Vine EP

We're gonna start with something very symbolic, something that says a lot about what I collect and why.



When I was 15 or so, my mind was WIDE open. I'd found my first Sonic Youth record (actually, it was the "Starpower" 3-inch CD single, which I dearly love. To this day, the album versions of those songs just sound wrong to me) and I was ready to explore further. A good friend of mine, Mason, one day handed off to me a stack of tapes and CDs, which I then copied onto a series of six cassettes. These albums were to influence me greatly, and be a solid signpost of what I like and what I play to this day. Loveless was there, as well as Mingus and Roland Kirk. Morphine's Cure for Pain and the Stone Roses singles collection. Frank Zappa and Syd Barrett, too. But what ended up hitting me hardest, and meaning the most to me, was a band called Medicine.



Medicine were a band from Los Angeles. Their guitarist/mastermind, Brad Laner, had a long-standing background in experimental music (much of his work with bands like Steaming Coils and Debt of Nature, amongst many others, can be found at the truly wonderous Mutant Sounds blog.) He teamed up with drummer Jim Thompson and singer Beth Thompson in 1991, along with a couple other guys that quit after the first record. And what a first record! Shot Forth Self Living (which I'm sure I'll post here someday soon) starts with a solid thirty seconds of distorted, bee-hum drone, finally breaking into an amazing, semi-psychedelic dance tune with gently sung vocals hovering over the undulations. And so the record went, as did the band: sweet melodies and harmonies collided with screeching noise and quintessentially 90's dance beats.



I was simply agog when I heard this, and their second album, the Buried Life. You could do that? And it would work? Things would never be the same.



A couple of years later, when I was seventeen, I went to a Tuba and Euphonium conference at Northwestern University one weekend. It was my first trip by myself. Mom dropped me off at the dorm and gave me $100 (as I recall, it could have been less...) for food and necessities. I hardly attended any of the conference. I don't know what I would have gotten out of it, really. But it was important. It was a first step towards being on my own, which I essentially would be from September 1996 onward. And it was then as it is now: you couldn't keep me away from the record store.



I found a phone book and located the nearest one: Dr. Wax. I went as soon as I got myself oriented, and spent a long time browsing. I found a Sonic Youth record, a Miles Davis CD...and as I flipped through the 7"ers, I saw a Medicine record. This was 1995, when new vinyl was becoming very scarce, so I was mightily impressed. I didn't even know Medicine put out records! I've never heard of this! I bought it immediately.

It was a mysterious, pretty little item. A double 7" on clear vinyl. Three cardboard dividers, with a picture for each side. Seemed to feature a lot of penises. The music was mysterious, too. Some songs more than others...

Side A was "Off the Vine." Its illustration featured a Victorian-type lady, reading a book labelled "PURE" to two small children. The song is a sexy creation, at least to my ears: the bass is a slow, sensuous groove, the drums thwack behind the beat. Beth coos through multiple delays while Brad lays squawks of feedback over the top and drones underneath. It ebbs and flows somewhat, but that's the deal for the first three and a half minutes. Then, as a seemingly unrelated coda, Brad plays a simple riff and sings a lovely melody heavily featuring the line "nothing left to chance."

Side B is "Hull," represented by...uh...is that a fat nun? Well, she's naked, getting her nipples and toes sucked by winged baby heads, and a baby angel is...er...thrusting his penis, rather forcibly, into her mouth. Okay. Musically, this is a rather abstract number, also in two halves: the first one full of thumb piano bits and Beth's percussive vocals, the second all grinding guitar feedback and booming gong-like tones.

Side C is "Heads," which would be re-recorded for their final album, Her Highness. This recording is similar, if a bit rougher: much delay and filtering on the drums, a one-note bass part matching a one-chord heavily phased guitar, and Beth's etherial pipes. Its illustration is of a dandy fellow with a great deal of skin issues. Yay! Oh, did I mention the labels are all individually illustrated, as well? Mostly it's unremarkable, but the "Heads" side features, yes, heads, which tumble in circles when you play the record.

Side D is "Becky." This one's really abstract, bleeps and bloops, and ring-mod noises? Maybe some more of that shortwave stuff that popped up on "Beneath the Sands." The drawing for "Becky" has a scientist with a penis-injector thing (not his penis, he's holding this thing) inseminating vagina-plants.


Later, I tracked down some information by posting on the (extremely old-school reference) Medicine AOL group. Got a response from Brad Laner hisself, but the only thing I really found out was that the EP was limited to 1000 copies. That, in and of itself, was an interesting feeling. The idea that the ownership of this record was limited to 999 other people and me was fascinating.

Afterwards, I slowly but surely managed to track down every Medicine recording that was available (and, as previously noted, they'll surely show up here.) And thank goodness I found this one when I did, cos I've never seen another one...those 999 people are keeping this record close to their vests. But here it is, for you. Enjoy.

I internet-chatted with Brad Laner once, many years later, via Soulseek. He wanted to talk about basketball, a subject I know nothing about. Oh well. Still my hero.

http://www.megaupload.com/?d=Q95ZCCSM