Rozz Williams - "Every King A Bastard Son" (Episode 2)

 Opening up and examining the 2021 vinyl release of this 1992 Cleopatra Records release. Rozz Williams' debut spoken word album is an eerie, gothic horror masterpiece set upon haunting soundscapes. Does the nearly thirty year wait for a vinyl release of this album live up to anticipation? 

Mr. Gnome - 'Vinyl Box Set' (Episode 1)

I kicked off a new video channel in June where I discuss some of the favorites in my collection; talk about bands that are a bit under the radar that I think deserve some attention (Mr. Gnome definitely is among those artists); and every now and again, something new I've added. 

In this outing, I am discussing a "box set" ordered from Mr. Gnome in 2011. This Cleveland-based band is still active, and released a new album in 2018. This box set contained all available material they had released at the time of purchase, and is hand-constructed by the band's vocalist. She continues to provide variations of these hand-crafted box sets as well as some fantastic art, t-shirts, and of course music. Check out their site here: Mr. Gnome (Official Website)

 

Frankie Goes To Hollywood - "Welcome To The Pleasuredome" (Excessively Deconstructed)

 Thirty-Eight Years of waiting to review this album; an LP, a cassette, a compact disc, that I only ever manipulated to hear that song. I probably pawned or traded that compact disc at least a half-dozen times; whenever needs exceeded novelty. This weekend however, I decided to sit down with the lads from Liverpool and give their debut album a proper listen.

Let's begin with the liner notes and packaging. It's no less an enigma to me now than it was to my 12 y.o. self. Cryptic, first-person (Frankie?) stream of consciousness told in a handful of paragraphs invoking a question about morality and then bleeding that into the roster of artists that built '... The Pleasuredome'. With lessons learned from the previous decade, these darlings of the world then glow when bemusing us with a tale about how horrid their fans are; and then leave us with allegories about Caligula, croquet, and 'Outland'. This was probably precious to their fans in the 80s, a new rebellion against society's intolerance. Let's be crystal clear - FGTH were paying attention when the Sex Pistols did naughty things. The liner notes also dare to give us a peek into the minds of each member; which flows like the tunnel part of the boat ride on Wonka's chocolate river. Our path begins with humility; I thought to myself,  "Ok - we're going to get real now, and shed the pretense..." But this is where the flashing lights and sinister music kicks in, and we're told, "people keep telling me that I'm their favourite"... ummm, did I just stumble upon the entire reality that is Donald Trump? Did he build his entire fantasy world based on Frankie Goes To Hollywood liner notes? He continues, listing for us, all of the things he doesn't care about, and concluding with, "I just have some nice clothes". Mark O'Toole tells us immediately that he lies about everything, and pulls the veil from the mystery meaning of "Relax". Holly Johnson shares that people like things, he may or may not like the same things, and no one has a right to tell him what he can like. Our final provocateur doesn't care about much, Bryan Ferry included and people respect him for that. Brilliant. Equally stunning had they said nothing at all and offered us 6 blank pages. But, alas, we must talk about the last page, where our song list exists. For whatever reason, let's play devil's advocate and call it the infancy of compact discs; we get phrases such as, "COMPACT DISC MASTERING ORDER", and "SMPTE time code". Each track is represented by the song title and subtitle, and a Start Time and End Time. Maybe manufacturers were uncertain how we would use CDs - maybe we'd play them like a cassette? Inexplicably, Track 1 begins at 2:13.26 - well, that's just not right?! Is there a track 0? Nope. If these track times are correct, the album manages to present 72 1/2 minutes of music, a feat that should have been boasted about, but wasn't. In fact, no one would brag about it until Metallica's, '... And Justice For All'. The publishers also felt it necessary to share Sampling Rate, Pre-Emphasis and Maximum Peak. "No, we are not done." Beneath the track list is a panel elucidating the defects on the disc?! "Unwanted clicks" ... "Not give cause for concern" and provides the exact disc times of said clicks. This is magnificent. A biography, auto biography, bibliography, table of contents, index, and appendix. Already, the $1.99 I paid for this copy has succeeded where my 8th Grade English class failed.

In the year previous to '... Pleasuredome's' release, FGTH recorded "Relax" as a single for ZTT Records. In another scenario befitting of the 70s, the salacious cover art and snippet of lyrics resulted in the single being removed live on air from the BBC Radio 1's broadcast. The BBC promptly banned the single, and Europe as a whole could not throw enough money at the band. Awards and nominations began to rain upon the group, and the prescriptions for egomania and arrogance were filled. If narcissism and self-promotion go hand-in-hand, Frankie pioneered a phenomenon that bridged generations and cultures. Long, long before Sean John, or Weezy; before Wham! asked us to "Choose Life", Frankie was telling us to, "Relax" - and everyone from grand-mama, to Ethiopian refugees, to baby whatzit were pimping a wave of merchandise associated with a song about fellatio, and for those in the know, homosexual fellatio. My brain can't fathom the intensity of the snickering Frankie must have been doing on his way to the bank. In an age of The Iron Lady and Reaganomics -  this was popular culture.

Should we discuss the music? Have I not given you enough reason to throw your own $1.99 it's way? Fine, let's do this. 

With liner notes so saturated with self-indulgence and snarkiness, I imagine there are those who will say that the music on this album is an extension of that attitude, while others will say, attitude is fine but I also want to enjoy what I am listening to. We are all familiar with Sid Vicious doing, "My Way"... is it iconic because Sid really showed us his strengths while giving us something to think about, or is it's reverence steadfast because that debauched young man hated by society pissed all over something representing the oppressive generation? This is my internal debate with 'Welcome To The Pleasuredome'. I think for many, thumbing one's nose at standards is enough, and I don't have an opinion on this. For my personal tastes, I need to enjoy the music that accompanies the joke, otherwise, I don't care to hear the punchline. It's with this in mind, that I can offer uniform thoughts on '... Pleasuredome', regardless if the album is meant at times to be irascible or if FGTH served us it's best shit sandwich. 

I probably don't need to describe the sounds of FGTH; but perhaps "Relax" hasn't taken residence in the recesses of your brain as it has for anyone 10 years of age or older in 1983; you're also probably straight, and thinks nostalgia is a waste of time. You likely were born in an era when Music Television and Video Hits meant everything but what the name suggests. So for you, person that is definitely not reading this review, Frankie Goes To Hollywood is often classified as new wave, synthpop, or eurodance. Equal parts Duran Duran and Thompson Twins, with moments akin to Oingo Boingo and Information Society. They employ sweeping synths that sound like they belong in Blade Runner; thick and precise bass rhythms; bursts of electric guitar snarls; a healthy databank of political sampling; and cascading keyboards that fuel the emotional tug of war. If you are willing to brave the deep album dive past "Two Tribes", the striking realization that Frankie Goes To Hollywood is capable of crafting a hard rock song comes into focus; a scenario that would repeat itself a decade later by Gloucestershire band, EMF, who were paying as much attention to Frankie as Frankie was paying to The Pistols. 

In Frankie's mind, they are embroiled in a maso-sadistic ren faire a la 'A Clockwork Orange', and in an effort to perpetuate a Kubrick-esque world, '... Pleasuredome' is at it's surface, violent, sexual, political, and an expose on a fucked world of classism and manipulation. Maybe that's all it is. My personal take on 'Welcome To The Pleasuredome' is that it possesses a duality, and the band attempted to construct a linear narrative of Man goes to club, man finds lust and burns bright in the fire of that passion and tumult, the man inwardly reflects, the man desires love, bang. 

I remain committed to this narrative, despite the little hiccup that happens right around the end of track 7, "Fury". An abrupt dialogue leads us into a "Born To Run"; yes, that "Born To Run". After the three seconds transgress where you are impressed at the musical chops of FGTH, you are willing to sell your soul to satan for the momentary power to hurl something into the sun. You truly want to die. If Google existed in 1984, the top search would have been: "how to deface your Pleasuredome record so that it skips Born To Run". The inclusion of this cover is sarcasm, surely? I'd like to reassure you and say, "it's a momentary lapse of judgment, and our conceptual paths resume", but sadly, I cannot. Our road out of New Jersey has a layover at a calypso bar called, "San Jose". This detour is one that's so bad, you'd be forgiven if you jumped from the moving car in which this song is playing. Whatever your personal take on '... Pleasuredome', after "Two Tribes", Frankie has lost it's bite; it's retreated back into the club where it's safe amongst it's peers, and it's too busy dancing to engage with you. I am by no means suggesting that '... Pleasuredome' isn't worth the journey past "Two Tribes", it indeed is, and I think if you are willing to invest yourself in the well-being of Frankie, you will find a haunting and beautiful collection of tracks following "San Jose". 

Though "Born To Run" is a bewildering cover choice, FGTH do demonstrate their ability to effectively cover the powerful Edwin Starr song, "War" as a lead in to "Two Tribes". This provocative pairing of songs would easily be the most celebrated part of any album, however, on '... Pleasuredome', we are introduced to Frankie's world via the title track and "Relax". Not enough can be said about "Relax" - it's not dancing around it's intent (no pun intended). Bronski Beat was willing to flirt with suggestions of homosexuality in their videos and lyrics, FGTH simply asked you to come and made a video about it in case there was any confusion. Where "Relax" is a full-on orgasm, "Welcome To The Pleasuredome" is a slow-burn. Chirping birds, lilting flutes, and subdued instrumentation; it's a full two-and-a-half minutes before Holly Johnson enters as ringmaster, and sets the tone for what will follow. He vocally stabs with precision, as a tribal "Hoo Haw" suggests that whatever follows is going to be taboo. Five minutes in to the nearly 14 minute title track, the song takes structure and it's suggested that you are finally entering in to this world. However, Frankie is not quite ready for the exchange to end, he demands that you "Don't Stop", and he ushers you back into the center ring of this sexual circus. He breaks often, synths cry in ecstasy, acoustic guitars give you moments of pause for reflection, but the foreplay is unyielding. Over and over, a promise of finish seems so close, but "Welcome To The Pleasuredome" teases; building upon itself with female choruses, Middle Eastern strings,  and increasing percussion. By the time you reached the thirteen minute-forty second finish, you welcome the release that "Relax" will offer. Holly Johnson is so pleased with himself in having brought you this far, his mocking laughter ushers you to the full course. I am incapable of believing this was not an intentional coupling of songs, FGTH knew precisely what they were creating. "Tag" is less than a minute long and furthers the visuals perpetuated by the '... Pleasuredome' narrative. Paired with "Fury", these act beautifully as a segue from the frenetic world of sex and violence into a deeper, reflective Frankie. Instead, we are painfully  subjected to "Born To Run" and "San Jose". "Wish The Lads Were Here" embodies the sound of FGTH, and is a sufficient track that relies heavily on it's funk-inspired bass lines, and harmonized vocals. Perhaps the most striking track on the album is "The Ballad of 32". Without any context to it's meaning, I have to rely on the emotions it evokes. It seems mournful, as an electric guitar wails into the void, while an acoustic guitar provides the song's rhythm. My mind sees Sonny Crockett driving his Ferrari through the early morning streets of Miami after a rain shower. The vocals are only the sounds of passion, which should flow into "Krisco Kisses" fluidly, but the contrast between these two songs is jarring. Tribal drums, driving guitars, and a chorus of shouts are only out-paced by Holly Johnson's vocal delivery. It's a fine track for this album, but it's location in the mix is disruptive, and would have been best paired with "Wish The Lads...". The next song could have easily been a very successful single, and maybe would have provided the public a broader view of the band's capabilities. "Black Night White Light" may be a quintessential 80s song with it's xylophone and slowly pulsing bass, it's most sinister in it's construction. Frankie calls out "the pleasure seekers", and leads a chorus of religious hypocrisy, while an angelic voice sings "black night white light". This track is on par with Duran Duran's "Save A Prayer" in it's haunting delivery. If I had never heard "Relax" or "Welcome To The Pleasuredome", I may have bought this album on the strength of "Black Night" alone. "The Only Star In Heaven" is a return to the Frankie formula of thick bass hits, symphonies of synth, and simple percussion. Following the previous track, the tone here feels like an awakening, filled with the light and spirit, offering a promise of true love. "The Only Star In Heaven" is the perfect introduction to the single, "Power Of Love" at the close of the album. It's lush, sweeping synths are beautifully paired with Holly Johnson's vocals. It proves that FGTH is capable of power-pop greatness, while the video reminds us that Frankie won't comply. "Bang" ends the album, a roughly one-minute exit from the "... Pleasuredome". It's crashing cymbals, and near-"glory to god"-keyboard, build in to a cacophony, and then Frankie tells us, "No More". 

There's so much I could create in my head regarding these final four songs starting with "Black Night White Light" and ending with "Bang". The religious tones, paired with the religious visuals are as equally measured as the album's introductory title track and "Relax". What's less clear to me as the listener, is whether I am trying to build some narrative from that and tie the whole album up in into a provocative and cynical concept album with some ill-fitting bits in the middle; or if FGTH were a couple of proud gay men, a couple of straight men in a band pushing the buttons that they had learned from the bands before them, while also marketing themselves into a part of popular culture. I think the world may remember FGTH as the latter... certainly, the only quality our collapsed Music Empires (MTV and VH-1) can recall of Frankie, is that they were a one-hit wonder. Even if "Relax" had been their only charted single, (it wasn't), I'd hardly call a band that was a brand all over the world as a one and done. That brand was not simply a band shirt; I would suggest that 85% of the population that wore a RELAX shirt didn't even know it was related to FGTH, or what FGTH even was. Thankfully, I am a music-lover, and if you are like me, I hope you won't simply take my word or anyone else's word for it about a particular album. If you are curious, dive in, and go to the bottom of the pool. If you only know that one single and liked it; chances are good that song was selected by the label to be the single. That same album may hold a surprise. In this prolonged return to '... The Pleasuredome', my bombshells were the mess of "Born To Run" and the absolute perfection of "Black Night...". Being re-introduced to this song after many, too many, years for this review, was inspiring and I am going to add it to some playlists I frequent.

After multiple passes through the album this weekend, I am willing to hit on 16, and set up camp in the FGTH was substantial, smart, and provocative. "Relax", as a brand, may detract from the band's legitimacy, and certainly, FGTH brought the entire bag of tricks from the previous decade of music that pushed all the buttons, all at once, as loud as they fucking could. If that was all it was for FGTH, why then be so open about their sexuality when other bands were just starting to be suggestive about the subject. There's a few things I think I know for certain: whether intended or not, FGTH kicked-open a closed door to a club where they only shared the dancefloor with Elton John for far too many years. I also know that '... Pleasuredome' has much more than it's singles to offer, and there is a depth in those outlying tracks showcasing more than the spectacle of the band found in their liner note quotes, or the simulated homosexual orgy a la the banned "Relax" video. My point being, FGTH is a good band, and this record, despite it's inconsistencies, is worth a full listen. It's because of this miscue in song selection and song order, that I needed convincing if this album was conceptual, and I needed to determine if my appreciation of the album was contingent of that belief. I've decided that even if I am full up my own ass with my theory, this is still an album that deserves to be heard. The first LP is what we are all familiar with, it's our collective memory of FGTH. The second LP is likely the one that looks unplayed in that used copy of 'Welcome To The Pleasuredome' you found in the $4 LP bin. I've found copies that have two LP2s and no LP1s - that's someone who wanted to be absolutely certain they would never hear FGTH's "Born To Run" again, not even by accident. It's on Side B of that second LP that FGTH showcases their talents and surpass the theater. I've enjoyed this visit to '... The Pleasuredome' enough that I am going to seek out 'Liverpool'; the band's sophomore release and final full length album. Will it suggest a tamer Frankie; will it showcase more "Black Night..." maturity, or will I find in it's tracks the recipe of hemlock leaves that ushered Frankie's demise?

Stabbing Westward - "Ungod"

A portion of my, "not at work" time, is spent in a music community on Facebook in which we rank our favorite albums of yesteryear. Often, in doing so, I run across an album or a band that either slipped through the cracks or were wholly written off at the time. Stabbing Westward definitely fell into the latter of the two. "A shotgun wedding between Smashing Pumpkins and Nine Inch Nails" is how one of my friends categorized their emergence. I was a little more open-minded, albeit cynical after seeing the video for "Nothing" on MTV. Then, quite unexpectedly, I discovered they were on a compilation I owned from the year prior, The Cyberflesh Conspiracy, an electronic and industrial collection. Therein was the track, "Violent Mood Swings" and it suggested a band that was more Meat Beat Manifesto or Skinny Puppy. Not a dramatic departure from Nine Inch Nails - I get it, but it definitely stripped away the discourse that this band was some industrial-rock, record-exec manifestation. More importantly, it proved to me that Stabbing Westward's debut on a major label was not simply an overzealous umbrella to reign in that "alternative" sound.

In all fairness, Ungod is a departure from their material in 1992 and 1993 - if Nine Inch Nails is a $15 dessert from a fine restaurant, this album is the kind of dessert a 10 year old concocts. That's not meant to be insulting, but Ungod comes off as an album with hooks instead of chords and the kind of lyrical animosity that sends mailbombs to it's ex. It seems extreme in it's sultry, seething, concussive framework and every track is meticulously crafted to ensnare.

"What is this thing?" It's the Island Of Dr. Moreau of Albums.Tell me, how is that possible in two shorts years? Was it a team of engineers that would rival Madonna's liner notes? Nope - I've seen more production notes on a Jim Nabors record. Then the name pooped out, "John Fryer" - engineer for Depeche Mode, Cranes, Fad Gadget, Love And Rockets, a whole host of 4AD bands, and yep - Nine Inch Nails. Case dismissed? I don't think so. An engineer can turn good into great, and steer the ship - especially a veteran with a new band.

Ungod borrows, and begs and steals, and I'd be foolish to turn a blind eye to that. I'm sure there's a handful of bands who wondered what the line between theft and similarity stood. But Stabbing Westward cannot be so easily dismissed. They brought something to the table that allowed a talented engineer to take it to another level. Even at this young a stage, Stabbing Westward were already developing an uncanny knack at song craft that blended harsh industrial noise into textures that complimented not only their musical proficiency, but also built a framework that fed the angry lyrics of Christopher Hall. The songs are allowed to cascade and build, there is no rush to the reward... all the while whispered to angry vocals lead you on a journey through betrayal and hatred. Hall's vocals may be the most haunting you will find on any industrial rock album of the 90s, but they are able to reach an intensity that evokes believably. Bass lines are actually well-crafted, and compliment drummer, David Suycott's style perfectly. Reading through the liner notes, I saw that writing was shared by several of the members, which added to convictions that Ungod was anything but a corporate whore.

Yes, "Control", "Nothing", "Violent Mood Swings", "Ungod" and "Lies" are extreme versions of a Nine Inch Nails song. I won't deny that, and maybe I should say, "Fuck this album!" and walk away. However, even though the familiarity is painfully too close or unoriginal - these tracks, the albums singles, are extremely well performed and they are a diabetic coma. If somebody took all of the original Jonny Quest characters and made a new series called "Ronny Adventurer" and carried on killing Lizard Men - I'm watching it. Just sayin'.

For me however - if all that I had to sink my teeth into were the aforementioned tracks, I would probably not even write this review. But tracks like "Red On White" and "Can't Happen Here" reflect a Stabbing Westward that's not contrived or lead down the yellow brick road, but a band that paid a lot of attention to the best parts of My Life With The Thrill Kill Kult's debut, and Skinny Puppy, and Wolfsheim. There is brilliance is these lesser known tracks that exceeds expectations for a band on their debut album.

As a whole, Stabbing Westward presented an exceptional album throughout. If it's only flaw is that it's familiar, then I'm willing to forgive it's transgressions. It took something done and carried it down the road without falling - good enough for me. Did they do it alone, no... but I believe even without John Fryer, Stabbing Westward would have offered an Ungod equally captivating and solid throughout.

Nine Inch Nails - Not The Actual Events EP (Twelve Inch) - Review

NINE INCH NAILS - NOT THE ACTUAL EVENTS E.P.

Right off the bat, full disclosure, I've been a fan of Nine Inch Nails from the start. I had Pretty Hate Machine on cassette, vinyl, and compact disc within the first month of it's release, and I had to purchase that album at least a half-dozen times because friends would forget to return it. I've remained a paying customor on the Trent Reznor carnival ride since, but I'd be lying if I didn't also confess that following The Fragile, I began to develop some motion sickness.With Teeth ushered a realization that I may not enjoy every track on a Nine Inch Nails album going forward. Our love affair had run out of steam, though it very much possessed all the qualities that originally brought us into one another's lives.

 The Downward Spiral opened a new facet into what is the totality of a Nine Inch Nails release; those lucky enough to find the promotional vinyl were rewarded with stunning and painstakingly beautiful art and packaging. The presentation of releases, "Perfect Drug" aside, has developed with each consecutive release, and the art is as integral as the music it encompasses. Though I may be rebuffed for claiming it, for me personally, I believe the packaging and it's careful representation is as much collectible for fans as the often limited nature in which it's offered. Unfortunately, Year Zero, suffered from it... fans were so rabid to piece together a puzzle that was scattered throughout the world in forms of flash drives, hidden messages, secret images - that the presentation eclipsed the product. An otherwise solid album suffered from it's own clever design. And because I wasn't in on the game, I felt a little disconnected from my friend of so many years.

I've said all of this to preface a review of Nine Inch Nails' first E.P. (of three planned for release this year), because, yes, I am probably a little biased, but also, that I am capable of being disappointed. The E.P. was released digitally at the end of 2016, and the physical releases (in the form of a 12-Inch) are just now shipping. A lot has happened musically for Trent Reznor between 2013's Hesitation Marks and this E.P. Collaborations with Atticus Ross have scored some of the largest film releases in the past decade; Trent has become involved with Apple, and let's just ignore the fact that he is also a real person with a family and responsibilities the rest of us have, As quiet as Trent may be - he's never far from surfacing in the ocean of life's minutia. Whether it's receiving critical praise for the tours that followed Hesitation Marks in it's creativity and unique adaptation of light and structure; or it's a film score that writhes like a serpent through your subconscious, or it's a blistering performance on Twin Peaks (The Return) - the man simply isn't forgettable or yesterday's big event, he's more like a tsunami that stops for coffee. 

All that said, Not The Actual Events is as strong a Nine Inch Nails release as anything else in their catalog. "The Idea Of You", incorporates piano in a cinematic fashion that transcends everything that has come before it. The track is easily as aggressive as "Burn", but Trent's vocals are muted and beg the listener to spin that volume knob just enough before the assault happens. "Branches/Bones" is a slow burn that is beautifully crafted with exceptional guitar work and layered vocals that soar and collapse you into "Dear World". Lyrically: cynicism, apathy, and self-deprecating introspection... the kind of dim horizon that only Trent Reznor can illustrate with such clarity. The synth-pop, drum-driven track compliments such dark musings perfectly, and it's the sort of fare a DJ craves to manipulate. 'She's Gone Away" and "Burning Bright (Field On Fire)" offer something new to fans. There's a raw studio element to these tracks that almost seems to emanate from a 1950's radio that's still stored away in the attic at this very moment, and the ghosts have the controls. "She's Gone Away", though unique,  offers a flavor very familiar to fans, an undulating journey a la "Reptile" that creeps in an out of all your naughty thoughts. In other words, it's the perfect fit for anything and everything David Lynch. The closest relatives to "Burning Bright (Field On Fire)" emanated from The Fragile... but this family member has been disowned and spent some time stalking Dirty Beaches and Ariel Pink. There is some (intentionally) buried guitar work on the sub-surface that is so striking that I started manipulating my EQ to get a better listen, and just as your are fully in and submerged - it drops you suddenly but gingerly back into reality.

As I said, this E.P. is incredibly crafted and well worth adding to your collection. It will, along with it's two counterparts to follow, likely find a home in your Top Ten this year, and be a record you'll pull out in the years to come. It's not forgettable, or "fleeting" as Trent has suggested, it's as well done and well-crafted as anything he has done and deserves the praise.

But I'm not done! Right? We didn't touch on the packaging after so much time was spent writing about packaging! Trent Reznor has a theme running throughout this year's releases "existing in the real world" and many really didn't know what that meant. Turning quickly to Year Zero-ocd- paranoia; fans began dissecting the imagery and subtext. Whether or not there's something there to find, I don't know. I'm staying on the train but I'm not studying what's passing by the windows. This particular twelve-inch and the book that preceded it offer the same evocative imagery that delves into Nine Inch Nails as a physical art form, and presents each owner with a unique reward to make your physical component truly your own, one-of-a-kind item.

This much-anticipated, immersive experience I set myself up for was somewhat unraveled by a distribution company that didn't carry the mantle of devotion, care, and creativity that brought all of this together. They instead threw my 12-inch into a mailer without any cardboard support and what I received as a result, is one jacked-up bent-to-hell record. I've been exchanging emails with Sandbag, Ltd, but so far, I'm stuck with what I have and I'm pretty disappointed. I'm confident this is not what Trent Reznor had in mind when he decided to put out the twelve-inch for fans and take the time to make it unique. He didn't intend for my experience to incorporate a postal-worker's bad day at the office. So, Sandbag - not happy. My advice - if you can find another way to obtain your Not The Actual Events EP - then do so. At least save your email with your order number... because Paypal transaction IDs and proof of payment will get you nowhere.

Supposition: Revulsion

It's little secret that I am a QueenAdreena fan. Easily, the group is in my top 5 picks that define my musical interests. It is however, an interest fraught with less than desirable results. Katie Jane Garside, for better or for worse embodies the mantle of the band, she is in effect: Queen Adreena. The "wrecked nymph waif" that saunters onstage in a salacious, seemingly-possessed persona that eclipses all the senses is well-beyond any other element of the experience. And it is in that framework that KJG is vilified...


Let's be clear, in appearances alone, the emotionally unsound affect coupled with being barely-clothed and possibly naked and offering yourself to an audience of strangers to grope, molest, and violate is the blanket ingredients to shock value recipe. It is also akin to watching a schizophrenic attempt to coexist in a sterile world. It feels wrong, it feels dirty, it feels like it shouldn't be seen. And that's exactly at the core of what's transpiring. You should feel that way. Unfortunately - with much of society, what we don't want to see, we also don't want to understand.


There has been the obvious comparison to Courtney Love. Both women exude a tortured and unsettled emotion that is a pain that can't be exorcised... and it presents itself in a seething, volatile assault on the listener. But I would draw closed the comparison there. While we know much (probably too much) about the path Courtney Love has traveled, that same cannot be said about Katie Jane Garside. One can assume that there is a lifetime's worth of hurt that is personified in her lyrics and stage-persona, but we don't really know. And it's really not the point, and if you think KJG doesn't realize that, you are taking her wholly for granted. If for instance she made a statement that claimed she had been victimized as a child - it would make it so much easier to understand her presence; neatly categorized and packaged for individual judgment. And now suddenly, it's not as important, I can choose to care about this or not.


I will argue that Katie Jane Garside and Queen Adreena should draw more comparisons to Marilyn Manson than perhaps anyone. MM stoked the conservative rhetoric fire for choosing to be the embodiment of every parent's worst fear. A figurehead that questions organized religion, decency, morality, and packaged it into a fearsome, androgynous, educated and well-spoken antichrist. The image was so disconcerting that few could look past the spectacle to read and listen to the lyrics; to sit back and question what is happening and why? MM made the decision, quite reluctantly, to let America in on the joke... and now he is palatable enough for tv and film.


So, why in this morality lesson that Marilyn Manson, David Bowie, Alice Cooper, Rozz Williams chose to teach us that we aren't ready to go beyond the "transgressions" of KJG? I would offer that it's three reasons: Unlike MM, Bowie, etc., she is unwilling to give definition to this aspect of herself; the music is so seething and angry that it's off-putting; but I am willing to claim that the biggest reason is because sexuality is a much different monster than religion, morality, decency. A women using her body as a statement and eliciting a sexual response without explanation is simply too egregious an act to quantify.


Now, if you couple the image with the word, perhaps the revulsion seems absolutely correct. With song titles like, "Pretty Like Drugs", "Suck", "Kitty Collar Tight", "F.M. Doll" - surely this is all just shock value and that is all that should be elicited as a response. But what is painfully evident when you listen to those songs and read the lyrics is that even from Daisy Chainsaw days, that KJG was drawing parallels between a woman's sexuality being her only currency in a world hell-bent on exploiting that. And suddenly, the spectacle makes perfect sense. The trap has been baited with silence and that enticement was too much to refuse. Out fell, the basest of human decency, the double standards by which women live their lives, and the judgmental bubble by which we navigate life. Accepting that you are a victim of this trap is a bitter pill... thinking that somehow you are better than other's for not swallowing is worse. So much effort is spent on victimizing KJG, when the reality is quite the reverse.


But perhaps it's all a mute point now. The exposition of 10 years of QueenAdreena seems to have slithered away back into the dark... the band has continued on as The Dogbones, and Garside has devoted a lot of time to writing and Rubythroat. I feel it's worth noting, that despite song-writing that remains true to her nearly 3 decades in the music industry, somehow when the stage-stripping, writhing and screaming stopped - the press suddenly expressed a profound love for the "new KJG". It's laughable, I know she's laughing. Being a sedate, intellectual woman is clearly more respectable than an angry, hell-bent, intellectual woman... but I guess we already knew that.


KJG has a new book coming out, if it's anything like her previous efforts, it will be painstakingly constructed and a special piece in your collection:


Katie Jane Garside

Link TV

The family decided we were done with our cable television provider for a variety of reasons. Our first choice was U-Verse, but some shady dealings by our former mayor, who happened to be a member of the board on the same cable provider we've been using prevented any competition in providing cable television services for a period of 99 years. So, the loophole in that law was satellite providers - so DirectTV it is. This means for me, I once again have access to LinkTV and it's amazing World Music programming. A lot of the artists I discovered can no longer be found online - their videos only live in my memory.So, in honor of that return - here's my top 10 discoveries from this ground-breaking program.

10. Kamini: Marly Gomont
A French Rapper that originates from rural France. This video went viral before there was such a thing.

9. Yothu Yindi: Ghost Spirits

Aboriginal artist that caught the attention of Alan Wilder (Depeche Mode). He produced and mixed this track.

8. Sultana - Kusu Kalkmaz

Provocative Turkish rapper Sultana churns out political rhymes.

7. Molotov: Here We Kum

Mexican rap/hardcore/thrash outfit Molotov that snagged their share of Grammys, including alum of the year. Spanglish lyrics that run political to satire to misogynistic 

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6. Die Antwoord: Enter The Ninja

South Afrikaan artist Die Antwoord started out as a skit on a comedy show on South African television. But demand for more resulted in an E.P. that exploded out of South Africa and into European Markets and the rest is history.

5. Lila Downs: Perro Negro

No official video exists for this track, but the widely popular track that featured Cafe Tacuba's vocalist inspired many fan videos, but none so popular as this one that became the unofficial offical video.

4. Balkan Beat Box: Move It

High energy and infectious rhythms, Balkan Beat Box became the darlings of the international music scene in the early 2000s.

3. Dengue Fever: Seeing Hands

Dengue Fever hails from Cambodia, but their social-political lyrics made waves across the world. They drew the ire of their own government and fled on a world tour that garnered so much attention that it forced the hand of the Cambodian regime to reconsider the prosecution on the band.

2. Emir Kusturica & The No-Smoking Orchestra: Unza Unza Time

Known for his acting chops and film scores, Emir Kusturica also offers up traditional Balkan music infused with gypsy and punk rhythms. Satire and tongue-in-cheek humor flavor this video which I promise will delight.

1. Cafe Tacuba: Dejate Caer

Also hailing from Mexico, Cafe Tacuba blend pop and alternative rock to create infectious tracks. Hugely popular South of the Border, they have also established themselves as tour favorites in The States.