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 

. 

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.

Mixtape: My Sister's Methedrine

In my flurry of mixtape creation in the early 90s, I started this project of compiling Sisters Of Mercy and bands that embraced their unique sound. The tapes found their way to the bottom of a box when I found myself with too much material for one cassette, but not enough for two. After finding the lost treasure a few weeks ago, I found myself wanting to complete the recordings. So, here's the finished product.

.MY SISTER'S METHEDRINE: V.1

A01 - The Sisters Of Mercy - Lights
A02 - James Ray Performance - Edie Sedgwick
A03 - The Lords Of The New Church - Open Your Eyes
A04 - The Mission - Evangeline
A05 - March Violets - Snakedance
A06 - Fields Of Nephilim - Laura
A07 - Rosetta Stone - Heart And Soul
A08 - Ritual Howls - No Witnesses
A09 - The Merry Thoughts - Black Day
A10 - Pink Turns Blue - I Coldly Stare Out




B01 - Red Lorry Yellow Lorry - Hand On Heart
B02 - Ghost Dance - Yesterday Again
B03 - The Wake - Nazarene
B04 - Every New Dead Ghost - Bleak House
B05 - Gary Marx - Blindfold
B06 - Dreadful Shadows - A Better God
B07 - League Of Nations - Fade
B08 - Fad Gadget - Ideal World
B09 - And Also The Trees - Midnight Garden
B10 - Ausgang - Crawling The Walls
B11 - Balaam And The Angel - Two Into One

MY SISTER'S METHEDRINE: V.2

C01 - London After Midnight - Inamourada
C02 - Ultravox - I Remember (Death In The Afternoon)
C03 - Sad Lovers And Giants - Echoplay
C04 - Dr. Arthur Krause - Moribund
C05 - The Sisterhood - Giving Ground
C06 - The Sisters Of Mercy - On The Wire
C07 - Love Like Blood - Into The Snake Pit
C08 - Bone Orchard - Princess Epilepsy
C09 - Fields Of Nephilim - Back In Gehenna
C10 - The March Violets - Walk Into The Sun
C11 - Virgin Prunes - Walls Of Jericho


D01 - The Sisters Of Mercy - Lucretia, My Reflection (Long Version)
D02 - The Legendary Pink Dots - Golden Dawn
D03 - Einstrurzende Neubauten - Total Eclipse Of The Sun
D04 - Phallus Dei - Circles On Circles (The Final Realm Mix)
D05 - New Creatures - Post Valentine
D06 - Ultra Vivid Scene - The Ascent
D07 - Christian Death - Lacrima Christi (Italian Version)
D08 - Petali Del Cariglione - Altra Donna

Mixtape: Sticky Brilliance (Eclusion)

A few weekends past, I found myself digging thru boxes of tapes. I probably have about 1000 cassettes in my collection, 100 or so of those are cassette bootlegs (mostly of a Rozz Williams nature) and probably an additional 100+ mixtapes of varying degrees. It's not because these collections are remarkable that I wish to share them, in fact, quite the contrary. I believe that if anything, what is illustrated with my mixtapes is a glimpse in to my music collection and how it developed and the tangents it takes. As I sat on the floor of my office I looked at the tapes, more precisely, the songs included on those tapes almost as seeds; where a sound, a genre, an artist took root, grew branches, bore fruit, and offered up new seeds. It's almost a surrogate family tree, because in all honesty, it's where I stole my culture, my tongue and my failures. This as much paints the decades of one person, as a museum in honour of one artist. So, the reason I want to share these tapes is either because I want my own museum; or I need to visualize the paths to today, and most importantly, not lose sight of the precious influence of my dearest friends and loved ones; or I need to pry open the doors to who I was and where I am today; or I simply want to hear these tapes again after so many years.

Sticky Brilliance (Eclusion)

Compiled in 1993. As previously stated, this collection sheds a painful light on how limited my music collection was at the time. I had a collection of vinyl, but no turntable at the time, so I was relegated to cassette and compact disc, and the issue I had with cassette was that I couldn't control the recording volume. Not wishing to have a mix of songs at various recording levels - I kept my selections to those that maintained that aesthetic. 

Having said that, here is the selection. Please note, the original playlist is in tact, but not as presented. I have remixed the track listing to be a little more cohesive. Inclusions I am most proud of are by Flowerhead and Walt Mink... early pieces in my collection that I was quite fond of and took me through the deeper catalogs of Caroline Records and correspondence with members of Flowerhead. Without saying, this is pre-internet forays into looking for new music, and more importantly, new visions and talent.

A01: Beastie Boys - The Biz vs. The Nuge

A02: Beastie Boys - Time For Livin'

A03: Ice Cube - Endangered Species (Tales From The Darkside)

A04: L7 - Wargasm

A05: Nirvana - Molly's Lips (BBC Session)

A06: Pixies - Is She Weird?

A07: Sonic Youth - Mildred Pierce

A08: Daisy Chainsaw - Dog With Sharper Teeth

A09: The Jesus And Mary Chain - Tumbledown

A10: My Bloody Valentine: Only Shallow

A11: Nine Inch Nails - Head Like A Hole (Opal)

A12: Nitzer Ebb - Godhead

A13: They Might Be Giants - Istanbul (Not Constantinople)

A14: Violent Femmes - Mother Of A Girl

A15: Bingo Hand Job (Billy Bragg w/ R.E.M.) - Tom's?

B01: Faith No More - Midlife Crisis

B02: Soundgarden - Birth Ritual

B03: The Infectious Grooves - Do The Sinister

B04: Living Colour - Type

B05: Soul Asylum - All The King's Friends

B06: Live - Waterboy

B07: Flowerhead - Everything Is Beautiful

B08: Walt Mink - Factory

B09: Pixies - Bone Machine

B10: The Smashing Pumpkins - Siva (BBC Session)

Review: A Girl Walks Home Alone At Night

A Girl Walks Home Alone At Night

My interest in this film was piqued last year when he was among a list of several independent films to watch for in 2014. Elijah Wood was involved in the production, so I believe that put this film on the radar of critics, journalists, and film-lovers. I've not seen the short-film that was the precursor to this movie, and hopefully I haven't missed out on anything as a result.

The film is a subtitled, Iranian independent release from 2014. Shot in black & white; what is immediately striking is the cinematography, reminiscent of early Jim Jarmusch. This is a vampire film, and it takes place in the dying town of Bad City. Sheila Vand portrays "The Girl" and her presence is equal parts sexy, eerie, playful and mysterious. What director Ana Lily Amirpour captured perfectly was the intoxicating aura that vampire lore suggests, and was brilliant to stay away from the genre's many trappings. While "The Girl" is central to the plot of the film, it's the social and political undercurrent that transforms this film from simply a well-done indie horror movie into something that speaks volumes about not only the situation in Iran, but that human struggle is universal and we are all frail from the weight of our reality. "The Girl" is as motivated by hunger as she is by ridding the wrong, her interaction with a young child is riveting and terrifying. Amirpour was clever to tell a story and let it unfold, and avoid explaining how we got here, and why it mattered - because it doesn't. A Girl Walks Home Alone At Night could have easily taken place in Cleveland or Detroit and still been completely relevant, and I think that's a mastery of story telling. Every performance is excellent, and the stark dereliction of the landscape is brilliantly captured. Arash Mirandi portrays a character that is believable given the circumstances of his day to day, an opportunistic young man trying to hold the fraying tethers of his reality together. Most writers would have him portray the hero or anti-hero instead of someone real, reacting the way a normal person reacts.

If there was a hiccup in the film, it was the score editing. There are parts where the music awkwardly fades out or drops out. It does become a bit distracting, but thankfully the scenes in which this occurs are without dialogue and the focus is on the interaction between two characters.

Please give this film a shot. Not for the horror-aspect, because it is not frightening. It is however eerie, gorgeous, sexy, well-acted, beautifully shot and brilliantly directed. And if I can offer one spoiler - the most important character is right at the beginning of the film...

Haloes Curios - HC08 - Zola Jesus, Le Poisson Rouge 191011

HALOES CURIOS HC08

In honor of the Zola Jesus performance tonight in New Orleans, I threw together a small gift for someone who happens to be at the show. This New York City performance from 2011 was presented by NPR (see link below). It's a strong show and ushers back memories of when I saw Zola Jesus in Orlando a few years ago. An audio download was made available, so if you miss out on the parcel, you can make your own.

This is the first HALOESCURIOS since Halloween. Time simply got away from me, but it's certainly been on my mind. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the disc and if you were at the show tonight, had as much fun as I am anticipating having.

NPR Video of Le Poisson Rouge with Audio Download

Haloes Curios - HC06 and HC07 - Haloeween V.5 and V.6

HALOES CURIOS - HC06 and HC07
Distributed on Halloween, in a rush. The items respectively contain: Haloeween, Volume 5 and Haloeween, Volume 6. Each release were created for Halloween 2013 and distributed to friends and family. Not sure which package went where, but I decided to hit two locations I've missed thus far; Frenchman and Bywater. Traffic dictated where the Frenchman package was placed, and adoration for Euclid Records determined the other drop. Both of the discs contain some of my favorite Haloeween selections so far, and as a whole, these two volumes comprise my favorites among the series. I hope the individuals that found these packages found some tracks they enjoyed and most importantly, had a very Happy Halloween!

Haloes Curios - HC05 - Haloeween V.7

HALOES CURIOS - HC05

Congrats on finding this item. The first, and to date, the only item stashed outside of the Greater New Orleans area. Left in my favorite destination in Rochester, Lux. Had an awesome night with friends and their friends, and it was sad that the night had to end. During my time in Lux, the item had been touched, moved, opened but confusingly, not taken. So, the item was retrieved and stashed on a vehicle parked just outside the door. Hopefully it was found rather quickly, before travel?

Inside, was Haloeween, Volume 7. Haloeween is an annual effort of mine to create a unique collection of Halloween-inspired tunes to share with friends around the country. Volume 7 was this years installment. There was a handful of tracks that I love on this years' collection, but the one that lodged itself in my cerebellum was by The Hives. Anyway, I hope you found some tracks you enjoyed and shared the find with friends. And most of all, I hope you had a wonderful Halloween!

Haloe's Curios - HC04 - Time For A Bavarian Death Waltz

HALOES CURIOS - HC04

There's not a lot of hunting or luck that was needed in finding this item. I fully intended to hide it within The Civic Theatre to be found by some random Afghan Whigs fan. However, I left it in the car, and once I had passed security, there was no going back to retrieve it. I was relegated to do what I could to ensure it made it into another fan's hands - so it was left lovingly underneath the windshield wipers of the vehicle parked next to ours.

Enclosed was the Home Records bootleg of The Afghan Whigs entitled, "Time For A Bavarian Death Waltz", recorded at The Paradise Club, in Boston on 5 April 1994. Not a stellar recording as far as quality goes, but unique to the performance were some stunning covers of The Supremes, Prince, and New Order. It's the only bootleg recording I have of The Afghan Whigs, so I thought this would be the proper moment to share it with another fan. Now, if they happened to purchase the performance from London offered at the merch booth, then they probably weren't all that impressed. But I hope they enjoyed it anyway...

Haloe's Curios - HC03

Congrats on finding HC03. Little Daggers - Undug. I wanted to put this item out in the world as a thank you and as a promotional item for this phenomenal band. I've collected over the years, everything I could get my hands on. My initial exposure to them happened in Orlando, Florida at a tiny venue named, WigglyWorld Records. The experience was so amazing, that I saw them at every opportunity. They've exploded in the European music scene, and I've done everything I can to spread the word in The States, Critical darlings of the Miami press, and anyone lucky enough to have caught their performances. Please check them out and purchase their new release on Song By Toad Records.

Lil Daggers Official Site:Lil Daggers

HC02 - Mister Terry

HC02 - Mister Terry

Congratulations on finding the second item in this treasure hunt I've created. So, let me give you a little background on this item:

This was a project I embarked upon several months ago, the idea was to sift thru a decade's worth of material shared with me by my closest friend, Shawn Terry, and compile that into a retrospective to share with him on his birthday. Hours of audio, and nearly an hour of video material were digitized, cleaned-up and the only thing I had left to do was create some packaging to accompany the collection. Unfortunately, as that process began, events unfolded that suggested, to complete the project would be unheeded at this time. So, a generic cover was made and I decided to put this out in the world because it does present a musician and artist of such great talent and diversity, that it's almost criminal to lock it away. I hope this finds a good, music-loving home among people who love to share.

Enclosed on the disc are various bands that San Antonio-based, Shawn Terry has been involved with prior to and during our friendship. First is Berlin Black. Very little material exists from this deathrock ensemble, but it's clear that they had rehearsed and begun to perfect their influences. The time between Berlin Black and the next project I was exposed to, Veronica's Veil is a grey area for me - but in that time span it's evident that Shawn had explored a lot of new material. VV touches upon elements of The Cure, Pixies, some deathrock, and some fringes of metal. Though the band was on the cusp of expanding their reach, only one track emerged officially before the band became defunct. Please note, that if you scour the web looking for more material from Veronica's Veil, you are likely only to find a band of the same name that emerged a few years after, and musically they are on a much less impressive plane of existence. In the years following, Shawn performed and recorded with Hammered (featuring Suzy Bravo), and The Mechanical Walking Robot Boy. Each new partnership garnered different interests throughout the music scene, but it was the work of Guilty Strangers that spread across the U.S. and Europe that ushered the praise of music lovers and critics alike. The band were stalwarts of the San Antonio scene and opened for national acts including Christian Death and Peter Murphy. Shawn's creativity and talents weren't only bound within Guilty Strangers, collaborative efforts with Madame B and a stunning demo session featuring Heidi Buchhorn on vocals resulted in some of the most stunning and strongest material to date; it also further illustrated the diverse musical background from which Shawn's mind operates. Rounding out the collection are the solo efforts that Shawn dubbed, Green Building, an ambient, guitar-driven recording, and Dusklands - an effort that channels Shawn's inner Sisters Of Mercy and Mission.

You are unlikely to find a more eclectic mix than is what's presented on this disc, though I do hope you find something you enjoy; something you wish to share; and possible something you will want to seek out more of.

HC01 - Haloe's Curios

HC01

Congratulations on finding the first hidden item from Haloe's Curios. Enclosed is a reproduced letter that was meant to further a story line I had developed for a trio of Halloween boxes that went out to my friends last year. Each box contained a fragment of the story, and each recipient received correspondence from one of the characters in this developed story line. Anyway, this particular item was not used. The reprinted photo is that of Miss Mataja to lure in her lover Severin. Miss Mataja will lead you to much in unraveling many puzzles behind the creator of this project, as well as her ties to so many remarkable figures through history.

The final musical piece of this gift is from Guilty Strangers.Sadly, it may be the final release of this San Antonio-based band that made quite an impact on the deathrock, goth rock scene over the past 5 years. Though often compared musically and vocally to Lydia Lunch, the no-wave aspect is but one facet of Guilty Strangers. One can easily cite a dozen influences on their sound, but the blending from the decades of their idols is a creation that stands completely unique and powerful. Much of their material is available thru: Bandcamp, so check them out. They may be gone, but they shall not be lost, at least if I have anything to do with it.

A new, little game of hide & seek.

I've decided that what the world needs now are lovely little surprises. So, the game will work as such:

1. I will create a small little bundle of joy. It might be a small parcel (that hopefully won't require further investigation by a bomb squad one day). This might be a duplicate of some piece of music I own; this might be a bootleg concert cd-r or dvd-r; this might be art; this might be meaningful; and it might be received as utter crap. I've always loved the idea of leaving gems for others to find, so I hope this catches on. So, again, the item(s) will be created and assigned a number. For example: below is HC01 - the first item Hannah and I will be hiding. Generally - the contents will not be photographed, my wish is that people will photograph and share the contents they've found here or on Instagram using hashtags.

2. The clues to the whereabouts of the hidden items will be announced here: Haloe's Curios at Instagram

3. The retrieved item will provide the web address or the name of this blog, to which the recipient of the gift can go to and find more details about what they've discovered.

4. Hopefully they will become a follower and I can start a little trend of treasure seekers. If I'm lucky, these items will fall into the hands of individuals that appreciate the find for what it is - a hidden treasure, whether the contents are something they would typically seek out for themselves or not. If they are like me - they will hang on to the item forever exactly as they found it. Hopefully they will photograph their finds.

So, that's it. I'm hoping this catches on.... so let's get started. Hannah and I will be hiding the first items tomorrow.

The Desert Island Post or Life-Affected Albums - Part Four

This is likely the final installment of this thread. I've perused over my list endlessly, and revisited many of the notes I've etched upon it, and honestly, these are the most challenging of my choices thus far. While listening to the albums, I try to transport myself to that moment of discovery and then weigh that effect. I then realized there were an equal number of discoveries that have occurred since my life became intertwined with the world network. Perhaps that's a another list? But the web, and the friends discovered therein have brought Zola Jesus, Austra, Die Antwoord, A Place To Bury Strangers, The December Sound, San Antonio's Guilty Strangers and Veronica's Veil, Audra, Akubi Object and so many more. Often that has ignited the same kind of fervor that picking up something completely foreign in a record store can create, but I think it's different in the visceral effect. Nothing really compares to sitting down to something new and pondering over liner notes, lyrics, artwork, and photos; not to mention that all senses come into one succinct investigation: the smell of the packaging, the texture of the material, the etchings in dead wax, the mysterious lyric unfolding into the ears. Oh, but what about taste?! Well, if you are me, you're teeth make quick work of shrink wrap.

With all of that said, the final 5 (or is it 6)?

SIGUR ROS: AGAETIS BYRJUN
Discovery came via a friend of my ex-wife, and I was immediately scouring my old friend, Napster, for what it could share. The only complete album I succeeded in obtaining was Agaetis Byrjun, and if I had never heard anything else, Sigur Ros would still haunt me unyieldingly. I was lulled into a web that vibrated with familiar shoegaze textures, and as if a sedative, the breathy Jonsi desiccated my apprehension. I did not know what was being sung, it was Icelandic for all I knew, it was some years before I learned that it often wasn't lyrics at all. There is not a more intoxicating beauty than what  washes over this album. It at times recalls Pink Floyd, but they are subtle glimpses. In sharing this album with others, what I've come to realize is that it somehow evokes an emotional response particular to the listener. Whereas I might hear sadness and desolation, someone else finds warmth and beauty. In my experience, that's a remarkable and unique feat whether intended or not. Perhaps it's picking up on the different textures, translating rhythm as revisited memories. When I hear the percussion of "Staralfur", I am with Hannah and Ethan at Lake Eola watching 4th Of July fireworks. Up until their final moments, Sigur Ros remained inventive, unique, and a benchmark for being non-conformed.

BILL CALLAHAN: SOMETIMES I WISH WE WERE AN EAGLE
I think this is the only entry precipitated by a live performance. I was essentially oblivious to the career of Bill Callahan, and barely cognizant of Smog. One chilly, Orlando night all of that changed quite profoundly. This seemingly annoyed, older gentleman in blue jeans with a beat acoustic guitar took the stage and unloaded glorious poetry that gave me chills. Every dormant creative synapse that lay languishing in my frontal lobe was lit aflame. Sometimes I Wish We Were An Eagle is perfectly executed to entice the dreamer; offer itself as a muse to the writer; provide the scenery on extended stays in the car; or present itself as the maitre'd to your romantic evening. This wasn't an album that lead me on a journey of other musical discoveries, but it was the barrister who unlocked my love of writing.

THE JESUS AND MARY CHAIN: AUTOMATIC
Late, very late to this party. This album was my introduction to JAMC. Sitting in Physics class, a kid I wasn't so fond of, had perfected the drum machine tempo of this entire album onto the cover of his textbook, it was pure coincidence that I would buy it a couple of weeks later and unravel the mystery of his epilepsy. You couldn't have baited me any quicker with lyrics like, "I got the junk-gun fever sinking to my brain", "I got my senses strung out to the sky", "come on little sugar let me get your soul".
Coupled with the frantic, unrelenting drum machine rhythms, I think I was in teenage boy shangri-la. Automatic may not be the finest or most respected release, but it was their shiniest and most decadent. They fell like acid rain on America's collegiate and helped usher the tidal wave that was to follow. The Reid Brothers were sugary enough to give you diabetes and vicious enough to give you cancer, but talented beyond their years and they influenced countless bands in the decades that followed. Bands like A Place To Bury Strangers, Ceremony, The December Sound owe a lion's share to JAMC, and I imagine, like myself and that kid I didn't like, they were beating out "Blues From A Gun" on a textbook somewhere.

45 GRAVE: SLEEP IN SAFETY
This was another impulse buy, purely initiated by the cover art, and another deleted release that I was lucky enough to find at Tracks. I expected more goth-rock bliss a la Catastrophe Ballet, but instead, I was drawn into the world of deathrock. My purchase of this preceded Enigma Variations and Hell Comes To Your House and Only Theatre Of Pain, so it truly was a brand new landscape for my senses. Much unlike the 80's punk crawling out of valleys of Los Angeles, 45 Grave was a collective of seasoned and talented musicians. If the Hammer films deserved a soundtrack, then certainly the banshee-like wail of Dinah Cancer fit the bill. Recorded in musical history with a song about the rape and torture of a child, 45 Grave was a mocking sneer wrapped in a pop-horror freak show. They gave depravity an infectious heartbeat, and set the bar for the deathrock genre that still thrives today. It still fascinates me to see Pat Smear performing with rock's most successful bands, because my introduction to him came via 45 Grave. Paul B. Cutler was revered in his scene, but outside that, he remains a tremendous talent relatively unknown. Rob Graves, Don Bolles, Paul Roessler - brought pulsing depth, macabre instrumentation, and levity to the wickedness. Sleep In Safety, hardly... unless you were a 13 yr. old that sought the carnival leaving town. I met Dinah when I was 13, backstage, she gave me a pinback which I still have. She didn't bat an eyelash as to my presence, but did leave me with memories that exceeded anything a teenage boy can ponder.

                                                                                   

 QUEENSRYCHE: RAGE FOR ORDER / THE WARNING
I debated the inclusion of these albums on this list... repeatedly. They are, without any hesitation, two albums I love and will keep in my collection forever. What took time to determine was their effect on me, if any at all. I'd come home very late after a night at The Masquerade, and turned on MTV to wind down. You could do that then and see actual videos. As I relaxed, "Gonna Get Close To You" came on, and within seconds, I was transfixed. I really had no idea what to make of it, appearances aside, I don't think the thought, "metal" came to mind, it was just different. I had no concept of progressive metal, but it was the elements of romanticism and this bizarre song about stalking that propelled my intrigue. Geoff Tate's range was mesmerizing, and musically, Queensryche

weren't trying to beat me to death with guitars and flashy drum tricks. I decided waiting for Peaches to open was more important than the first 4 periods of school. As the vinyl spun, I was captivated; songs about revolution, an Ayn Rand imagined future, Victorian-era London, and the perils of war. This was not what I prepared for... a metal band more interested in musicianship as a whole and writing songs with substance instead of substance abuse and misogyny. I decided, going back to Peaches was more important than the next 4 periods of school and bought The Warning. Again, biting and complex, throwing in themes of a mechanized race, and embracing intelligence over brawn. If this album is the war, then Rage For Order is it's epilogue. I've tried for years to determine which album  I preferred, and I simply cannot choose. Both of them are simply remarkable with no flaws. When my collection was filling up with The Smiths, The Cure, Depeche Mode, goth-rock and post-punk, these two albums served to remind me that I should leave the door ajar to the music I loved in my younger days. Seeking out other progressive metal acts led to King Diamond, Tool, Fate's Warning, Flotsam and Jetsam and a rekindling with Black Sabbath. So, thanks to MTV for helping keep me grounded and realizing that there's a place in my heart for all music, not just that narrow shelf of cassettes at Tracks of a whole host of bands I was just discovering. at $9.99 a pop.


So... there we are. Twenty (1) albums. Unfortunately, I have 5 more. Sorry... but there will be a Part 5. That will be it. But I overlooked some important releases, and this list is incomplete without them.

The Desert Island Post or Life Affected Albums - Part Three

It's getting a bit harder to pinpoint these. New one's keep creeping into my thoughts, and then I feel guilty because my intention was to keep this to a list of 10. I don't feel like I can keep this to a list of 15 at this point. I've been revisiting a lot of the albums I have on my hand-written list, and I don't know if I can simply say that I love them anymore, I think a few of these changed something, or introduced something for me. Let's just see what happens...

R.L. BURNSIDE: FIRST RECORDINGS
The world of blues, Chicago Blues, Delta Blues, wasn't foreign to me, I'd exposed myself to a variety of artists over the years that I'd appreciated. It was hearing, "Like A Bird Without A Feather" on WMNF late one night that shifted curiosity into passion. As painful or sad as all predecessors had been, nothing struck me like the lyrics and playing of R.L. Burnside. I was lucky enough to catch a documentary one afternoon, in which a young, white guy made it his passion to track down delta blues legends and record them. R.L. Burnside was prominently featured, and his captivity over me swelled into full blown infatuation. Stripped down, or electrified, his humble approach to a life most would consider not worth living, translates musically into a beautiful, rhythmic tragedy. It seethes and pulses, and probably made the ladies hungry. Maybe not a pioneer in the genre, but an inspiration to all that followed. His visceral retelling of pain via Son House, Bukka White and Robert Johnson is as if a man possessed by their wrecked ghosts.

PORTISHEAD: DUMMY
Yes, it was "Sour Times" that urged me to buy this disc. I was captivated by the atmospheric, film noir, haunted approach to the song. I really had no idea I was going to be treated to an entire album that essentially came from no recognizable direction. There was an element familiar to me, but that had been years earlier - and no part of me was ready to equate Portishead with Neneh Cherry's, "Homebrew". The only way I could describe Portishead to anyone, was to paint a picture of an immense space station floating through the nether regions of the galaxy, and Portishead as the lounge act that has performed every night for the past 20 years, playing the same songs, tired and withdrawn. I had no idea the achievement I unlocked was my own self-discovery of trip-hop. It was the moment I pieced it together, Geoff Barrow was the common denominator, producing many of the tracks for Neneh Cherry, and responsible for the inescapably beautiful and haunting, "Dummy". It wasn't just that the music was an alien lifeform to me, Beth Gibbons' vocals cut straight to the heart and stirred the phantoms of sorrow, loss, and love. I forgive the exhaustive brainwashing of "Sour Times", it gave foundation for the albums that followed, and without it, my path through the world of trip hop may never have been ventured.

THE BREEDERS: POD
This was a purchase on a whim. I had no idea the band was fronted by Kim Deal, or that the $19 I paid for it would translate into roughly 75 Cents per minute of listening time. What I immediately realized was that "Pod" was the most beautiful, cohesive collection of music I'd ever heard to that point. Every song was infectious, and the lyrics were a mysterious, innocent swathe that at times bore talons. I'm embarrassed to admit it, but I was so enamored with this release, that I shared it as my own music to friends and family. It's a devastatingly short album that tugs and tugs at you for more, and sadly, the band never came close to achieving such delicate brilliance again. I want there to be no other Breeders than what offered such intoxication as "Pod". It serves me as a beacon to which nothing could follow. Nothing else in my collection parallels what I discovered on "Pod", it stands alone in it's brilliant beauty.



DEAD CAN DANCE: AION
I used to work with Mike Ness at a wind-chime factory. Well, not really, but he looked like him, and drove a '67 Falcon, and a Harley, and he loved music. And he was Scottish - which really was the only indicator that he may not be Mike Ness. We developed a report and began sharing music with one another. One Monday, he presented me with a stack of Caster U.S.M., Candyflip, a bunch of other horrid crap, and DCD's, "Aion". Until that moment, I'd had zero exposure to Neo-Classical, so needless to say, I was floored. I sat in my tiny bedroom playing the disc over and over. I couldn't figure out how I'd lived 20 years on the planet and didn't know about Dead Can Dance. It was a beautiful mélange of traditional (and not in the folk sense - but the medieval sense), dance, tribal, and the most powerful, chill-inducing voice my ears had ever heard. If Lisa Gerard isn't an immaculate conception of a choir of angels - then such a thing simply can't exist. Never before had such a procession of history and culture passed before me, leaving me to seriously question my love of music. If something so stunning existed without my ever knowing, then certainly my grasp of music was far too narrow and jaded. To this day, hearing Lisa Gerard sing ushers back the flood of emotion and wonder from my first listen to "Aion". This is a band that has it's mimics, some of them finding success, but no one presents history and culture with an authenticity that Dead Can Dance does. And more importantly - no one else can play with the same authenticity that Dead Can Dance does.

OPAL: HAPPY NIGHTMARE, BABY
Paisley Underground: I was a fan. Redd Kross, Jellyfish, Rain Parade... it was a scene full of talent and influence. But it wasn't paisley I was seeking when I picked up this album, I was looking for something brooding and dark and I believed from the title and the cover photos, I might be on to something. Like many of the albums on this list, I was completely unprepared for what happened next. Opal was perfection at psychedelic and the elements that made up the paisley scene, but there were no rainbows or fields of marigolds here. "Happy Nightmare, Baby" was a black & white pictorial of loss, vices, and simply existing. If Opal were a mood ring, they'd be black and cracked. Fuck your incense, your body paint, your wanting to be naked in public - this is naked in a fetal position with a bottle of wine and the curtains drawn. Broadening your mind here means seeing the horrid reality by which we barely exist, withdrawn and unimpressed, which is exactly what solidified this album as a part of my self-awareness within the world around me.


Part four??