The Dynamics--- with Jimmy Hanna: 1960-1965

Of course, not all of the tracks on this excellent two-CD compilation are with Jimmy Hanna, but that makes no never mind. Truth is, The Dynamics were a force in the Pacific Northwest not unlike Paul Revere & The Raiders and The Wailers. All three were on the scene early, repertoires top heavy with instrumentals, and all three had a tremendous impact on NW bands in the mid- to late-60s--- bands like Don & the Goodtimes, The Sonics, The Kingsmen, and The Viceroys, among others. Indeed, there was hardly a band in the region that wasn't forced to hand up something from each band's playlist--- most notably J.A.J. (The Dynamics via Dave Lewis), Night Train (The Raiders via Jimmy Forrest and others--- here is an interesting story about how it came to be), and Tall Cool One (The Wailers). Those were incestuous days of sock hops and teen dances and those teens could be brutal regarding the favorites of the moment.

Thus it is that The Dynamics latched on to whichever song caught their fancy and made it their own. Pop, jazz, soul, R&B--- no genre was beyond their reach, though they leaned a bit more toward R&B than most other NW bands. Let us just say that for their time, their roots were a bit deeper than most and more varied.

Looking back, they were a band constantly in motion, players changing on the edge of a solid core. Those players gained an enormous amount of respect from other musicians if no one else and included names like Jeff Afdem, who later morphed the Dynamics into The Springfield Rifle and had a couple of monster NW hits. Like brother Terry Afdem and Larry Coryell andMarcus Doubleday and Harry Wilson and Pete Borg and Gary Snyder and Ron Woods and, of course, Jimmy Hanna--- all musicians of note and some of notoriety. All keys to the band and the music.

There is no need to go into the history here. Neal Skok does that in detail, and very nicely indeed, in a beautiful 16-page insert booklet covering the various phases of the band. It is a history little known outside Seattle's city limits, oddly enough. The band was legend beyond those limits, imposed largely due to the limitations of travel (most were in school during the band's run), and yet cast its influence wide. In those days, musicians haunted record stores and when any band from the Northwest released a single, they knew about it and many times learned it for the next gig. Like I said, those were incestuous days.

As for myself, I did not have the luck to see The Dynamics live. They were legend in the Oregon, possibly as much because they seldom if ever played that far south. I knew the music, but my real education came later in the form of Tom and Ellen Ogilvy who ran Seafair-Bolo, the band's label. It was the very late seventies or even very early eighties and I was putting together a display of information about vintage NW rock in a record store at which I worked when a short and round man wearing a yachtsman's cap stopped by. He asked if I was the guy putting together the display and I said I was. He said, with a smile as wide as his face and with hand outstretched, “I'm Tom Ogilvy and I don't know if you know me, but I ran Bolo Records.” With one handshake, we became immediate friends, or so it seemed.

Soon, I was invited to his home to look over memorabilia and to meet the other half of the operation, his lovely wife, Ellen. The two were genuine and warm and were soon telling me stories--- vignettes from the movie that was their life, for many of the stories read more like a creation of a screenwriter than reality. Mr. Ogilvy told of Big Jay McNeely and Guitar Shorty and Bumps Blackwell, and Mrs. Ogilvy described Larry Coryell falling asleep in their basement, guitar across his lap and amp still on, having played himself to sleep. She giggled with delight when she mentioned how Coryell gave her the nickname of “Dragon Lady,” for Coryell was close to her heart, as were all of the members of The Dynamics. Afterwards, every time we met, I encouraged her to repeat that story just to see her face light up with what I can only describe as pure joy. Indeed, the names of the individual Dynamics fell from her lips often, not for name-dropping's sake, but for her genuine concern for their well-being, past and present.

They gave me records. In spite of my protests, they went through boxes of records which they kept in the basement, pulling out one of everything they could find and handing them to me as if it were nothing, though we all knew better. They knew I was as happy to receive them as they were to give them and I relive those moments on a regular basis and with sadness because it does not seem fair to the world that two such wonderful people are no longer with us.

That was my introduction to the Ogilvys and to The Dynamics. Recently, when Neal Skok mentioned that Seafair-Bolo, still in existence, had released a two-CD package, I was curious to say the least. He arranged for a copy to be mailed to me and when it arrived, I confess to being a bit leery. I mean, taking music from the past, especially from the vaults of a label like Seafair-Bolo, can turn ugly. My concern was whether they messed with the recordings, took something out or added something in the transition to digital. I've seen it happen too many times before to place trust in anyone's hands when it comes to music, especially vintage music like this.

I shouldn't have worried. The small group of people who are involved with the company now (including the Ogilvy's son, James--- ahem, that would be Jimmy Hanna to you) have the same concerns as myself. I think the term is kid gloves. Yes. They handled this project with kid gloves.

Not having heard the original tapes, I cannot attest to what they did, but what they did not do was mess with what ended up on the 45s. I pulled a handful of the old 45s out and compared a few tracks, vinyl against digital, and they are as true as they can be. I mean, if you want to float back to the early sixties to, say, the basement of Joe Boles' house, if that is where some of these were recorded, you can. The sound is basic and clean and I swear to God it feels like you're there. This is in-your-face stuff, raw only in the sense that it is live. And you get the full range of The Dynamics, beginning to end--- the basic four man group which gave us classics like J.A.J. and early originals like Wild Girl to the expanded band with Jimmy Hanna on vocals. You get the 45s as they were recorded and pressed, yes, but you get more. You get twelve previously unreleased tracks from the vaults--- unreleased not because they were not up to snuff but because those were the days of the 45 and sometimes tracks just fell through the cracks.

My favorites? J.A.J., of course, because it was the one track by The Dynamics which received blanket airplay all over the Northwest, and Candido, because I always had a thing for Dave Lewis who was as close to a regional star as you could get in those days without busting out nationally. Trick Bag because unlike the many songs everybody played, only a few bands used it and, man, you could dance to it, like all those kids on Bandstand used to say. I Pity the Fool because it is a good version of a great song, and Busybody because there was this side of The Dynamics which leaned more toward soul than their contemporaries and which I loved. Let us just say that it separated them from the mold.

Seriously, if you know The Dynamics or if you are a collector of the vintage sounds, you should at least check it out. These guys were among the best of the early NW bands and, what the hell? It'll only take a few moments of your time. I mean, the people who knew the music are getting fewer by the day. Reliving the music certainly won't kill them and might just spark a few brain cells back to life. I mean, those were good days. And that is still good music.

Ken Stringfellow--- Danzig in the Moonlight

The first time I saw Ken Stringfellow was on a Sunday morning photo shoot for The Posies' first press kit. The last time I heard from him, before this album at least, was when he contacted anybody and everybody about an album he had just produced for Aussie Hannah Gillespie (All the Dirt) for which I will be eternally grateful (the album is magnificent). Between those two times? Not much. Oh, I went down to their album release party for Dear 23, but that was to meet with old friend Gary Gersh who had been instrumental in signing the band to Geffen. I didn't see the band.

So I guess you could say that I knew Ken and didn't. I loved The Posies' early self-produced album which later showed up on PopLlama, liked Dear 23 and tolerated Frosting On the Beater, which had some pretty decent tracks, but completely lost track of the band from that point on. A handful of years ago, I picked up the trail again thanks to good friend Howie Wahlen who had been a huge fan from the beginning (and up to the present) and had helped the band during the early years. And I'm finding out now that it is a trail well worth following, backwards and forwards.

Both Stringfellow and fellow Posie Jon Auer have put out a library of music since those days, some as The Posies, some as members of a re-formed Big Star. Add to those the myriad of projects in which they each inserted a finger and trailing backwards becomes a monumental journey. I gladly accept Danzig in the Moonlight as the first stop.

Stringfellow worked on this (off and on, obviously) for eight years. Scoff if you want, but I hear a good eight years' work here. Eight years' hard work. Writing and separating and refining. Writing and adjusting and feathering. Re-writing and honing and and critiquing. Eight years! I hear every year!

Stringfellow includes fourteen tracks here, but you know he wrote way more than fourteen. There have to be riffs and themes and whole songs laying bloodied on the cutting room floor. Riffs and themes and songs that may show up in later Stringfellow projects but which I would give my left nut to hear right now. Stringfellow is a craftsman when it comes to writing. Occasionally, he is a true artist. Mostly what you get with Danzig is art.

Songs like History Buff, a slow rock ballad which builds to anthemic heights. By the time it gets to the harmonies, it becomes more than it is. I am always amazed when that happens--- when the song takes over the process. There are shades of Space Opera's Singers and Sailors which makes it more than just rock, and if you know the reverence I hold for Space Opera, you would understand what I am saying. Songs like 4 am Birds- The End of the Night, a densely layered, jazzy reach back to Strawberry Alarm Clock and Space Opera (and what a combination it is!). Songs like Drop Your Pride, dramatic and theatrical and powerful enough to have been included (in my mind) on another favorite album--- The Green Pajamas' Death By Misadventure (another album you should be checking out, if you haven't already). And the eighties-sounding (for some reason, my ears are screaming Squeeze) Shittalkers, as intense and dense as it gets, my friends. Listen to the music. Hear the words.

That's only four of the fourteen and I'm not even sure if they are the best. They are, though, the ones which caught my ear right off and will inevitably drag me through many many listens until, I am sure, the music will become part of my DNA.

Be forewarned, though. This is not an album for the initiate. This is intense, complicated and creative music which is well deserving of Linus's Several Hearings Award, an award given to only the best and only to albums which guarantee absolute enjoyment over many listens. You won't get this album right off--- at least, not how really good it is. There is just too much--- too many layers and too much to really hear, at first.

God, but I dearly love albums like this. I hear good albums all the time and some of them are way better than good, but few have the density which allows you to peel back a different layer each time. It is an adventure.

Top Ten for 2012? Easily, though I have to say that 2012 is turning out to be an amazingly productive year for topnotch music. Stringfellow did it right off, though, jumping in with both feet and implanting themes and songs in my head which refuse to leave. Right now, I'm looping You're a Sign and am taken by the flowing orchestral feel of the chorus. Next, who knows? Like I said, Danzig in the Moonlight is an adventure and when you listen--- I mean, really listen--- you have no choice but to go along. And it's worth it. Every time.

Michael Fennelly--- Gone Retro...

Seldom do I come across an album of music which satisfies the freak and the casual listener, so when Michael Fennelly's Love Can Change Everything (Demos 1967-1972 came through the door, I didn't expect much beyond the standard reissue of tracks from the sixties and early seventies buried for a reason. Retro compilations are notorious for containing music only for “completists” (as so many writers label them), people so deeply immersed in an artist's work or a period of music that they collect even the dregs. Most sweeten the pot with a hit or two and maybe some B-sides, but when all is said and done, much of it was left on the cutting room floor for a reason.

Recently, though, the handful of labels specializing in reissues have taken to if not letting the artists compile their music, allowing people who know the music intimately put albums together. The result? Compilations both historically and musically viable, meaning if you like the music (and you should, in the case of Fennelly), you're more than likely going to love the history.

If you have never heard of Michael Fennelly, I suggest a short tutorial from the Wiki guys, a short but sweet explanation of his timeline. If you have never heard Fennelly, well, perhaps you have and don't realize it. Fennelly was one of seven artists who formed The Millennium, a band in the late sixties who, in retrospect, have become somewhat of a musical legend. There is more than a little of the Pop infusion which made The Left Banke and The Merry-Go-Round successes, melody and harmony and a step into a little folk/psych keeping things light and airy and oh, so pretty.

When it came time to exit The Millennium, Fennelly seamlessly slid into Crabby Appleton and immediately scored with Go Back, a tune which made it all the way to #36 on the Billboard charts but which got airplay in my home state of Oregon way beyond that. Not only was I surprised that it topped out at #36 in Billboard Nation, I was a bit miffed. According to radio here, Go Back was Top Ten, easily. I never gave a shit about Billboard, anyway.

While Go Back gave Crabby air beneath their wings, there was no real followup (at least, as far as radio was concerned), more than likely due to AM radio's fall into the grasp of the devil (that would be Drake-Chenault, sports fans, which single-handedly disarmed radio by instituting the Top Forty format and turning it into the pariah of real music lovers everywhere). Fennelly would go on, but that pretty much covers the years covered in Love Can Change Everything, an album strictly dedicated to that period.

So what do you get, you ask? Outtakes from The Millennium? Crabby Appleton's cutting room floor leftovers?

Not at all. What you get is a collection of Fennelly-penned demos which, while recorded during the lives of those two bands, are pure Fennelly. True, many of the tracks utilize members of those two bands and probably more than one was recorded in hopes of being included in band releases, but none are, in essence, completed. Not in terms of release by those musical entities. And yet they are.

I find myself shaking my head over the quality of these recordings, which have spent decades in solitary confinement waiting just for this moment. Songs excluded from The Millennium recordings only due to the number of songs available (there were many songwriters, and damn good ones, in that venerable band). Songs which might have made the cut for either of the Crabby Appleton albums had it not been for the progress of the band and their music. Just because a song gets left behind does not mean it is unworthy. Sometimes there is just not enough space. This album proves it in spades. The more I hear this, the more I love it. Period.

Fennelly made comment about this album, hinting that he would have done this differently has he been given the chance. Well, to be more exact, he said:

“I did go back and forth with Sundazed over the content initially, primarily because I have archived tapes spanning 20 years, but they were interested in my 1960s and early 1970s material (which is historically interesting to Millennium fans and Crabby Appleton fans, but not inclusive of what I consider all my best work). Had it been left up to me, I'd have chosen the 20 best songs/recordings I have that no one's ever heard. But I do appreciate that Sundazed has a loyal customer base who are enamored with the era of sunshine and psychedelia, so I deferred to their judgment. My music grew progressively harder-edged, as time went by, so continuity was a concern, as well. I'm happy with the 24 songs that comprise this package, but look forward to an opportunity to issue the stuff I did in the 1980s, at some point.

“Doug Rhodes played keyboards for the Music Machine, and bass, keyboards and even tuba for the Millennium. Ron Edgarplayed drums for both groups. Keith Olsen played bass for the Music Machine and then became Curt Boettcher's production partner for the Millennium and other projects. Keith's contributions to the sound of the Millennium's recordings may be the most under-appreciated element of all. He was the mad recording genius who enabled Curt's mad genius to manifest itself on tape. (linking two 8-track machines together to record 16-track or being asked to find a way to 'make this sound like a jet taking off' - Keith was/is an amazing talent).”

While I could get behind the project Fennelly mentions here, I am not unhappy at all that Sundazed stood their ground. The songs on Love Can Change Everything deserve to see the light of day and in exactly this form. Fennelly put this package together with a lot of love and care and it shows, from choice of songs to presentation (the package is exceptional and contains liner notes essential to understand the two bands and the times) to attention to sound.

Now, about that other project, Fennelly? Set up a crowdsourcing page. We're ready.

Eric Corne--- Kid Dynamite & The Common Man

Eric Corne may not be Kid Dynamite, but he sure as hell sounds like he is. He approached me a few months ago about listening to his album and I almost turned him down. I might have if I'd realized that Kid Dynamite & The Common Man had been released in 2008. I mean, I'm having trouble keeping up with the new releases (the real truth is, I'm not, there are that many) and don't relish stepping into the past unless there's a damn good reason. Well, Corne handed me a damn good reason.

What the hell happened in 2008 that made an album this good disappear? I hear really good albums which are and have been overlooked all the time, but Kid Dynamite is a step above. A big step. Not only are the songs solid (and I mean solid), the musicianship is as good as I've heard recently (and it should be, considering the names playing on the session). Add topnotch production and this should have been a hit--- even in a world in which the closest you can come is Lady Gaga or that Bieber kid.

I can give you ten reasons you should buy this album--- each an Eric Corne original. You want my advice, start with Kid Dynamite/Rancho Mirage, a two-parter which rocks and then, well, rocks. Kid Dynamite has just enough of that Black Crowes/Stones sound to please the palate and when the band slips into the instrumental Rancho Mirage, it's a time funnel of sound--- a modern version of Neil Young & Crazy Horse during the Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere era. I have yet to hear it enough to see if it will stand the test of time, but it put a barbed hook into me that I can't shake. I'm not sure if it is the Crazy Horse guitar sound which I love and hear all too little or if it is because it is the perfect tail on the perfect dog, but I dig it.

People are always saying that there isn't anything new in music anymore and I hear that, but only to a degree. Every time something really new comes along, those people would more than likely hate it anyway. No, Corne doesn't break new ground, but he doesn't break new ground in a way that impresses the hell out of me. The odd semi-Buddy Holly/fifties sounding I Know a Girl, for instance, with its over the top pedal steel and perfecto fifties style background vocals. The reggae-rooted Nobody Plays Here Anymore, the guitar deeply reverbed and echoed to just the right degree.

I suppose I could go on, but there is no substitute for hearing it. Corne has put the entire album on Bandcamp for your listening pleasure and you can stream all of the tracks at your leisure. If you prefer, try his MySpace page or just log on to his very own web page. Bandcamp allows digital downloads in a variety of formats, but if you prefer physical product, just head to CD Baby. See? I'm making it easy for you.

Look. I'm doing you a favor here. Do yourself a favor and check it out. What can you lose? A few minutes of your time? You guys spend too much time on Facebook and Twitter as it is. You say you like music? Put your ears where your mouth is. Eric Corne deserves that much. So do you.

Steven Casper & Cowboy Angst--- Topanga Ranch Motel

Angst ain't the half of it. These cowboys are dipped in everything from cowpies to cowabunga and have a country edge, but they don't stop there. Toss in a bit of Foghat, Motown (that's right--- Motown!), San Francisco (the early 70s, which you can credit to violinist-with-angst Ross Levinson) and a whole lot of South cushioned (thankfully) by the less-than-Van-Zant voice of Casper (in this case, less really is more and haven't we all heard enough of those lame Southern Rock clones anyway?). But let us be honest here, the South is not the key anyway. It is the mix.

That mix is intriguing, Through With You feeding on Motown and modern rock, the melody line following Simon & Garfunkel's Bridge Over Troubled Water and The Temptations' My Girl in short bursts. They sound nothing like either, so that may be a stretch, but the lines are there. It is straight up rock, no chaser, and when the violin and lead guitar duel, you get a small taste of what San Francisco gave us during those heady days of the late 60s and early 70s.

For sure there is cowboy in Cowboy Angst and they step in it on Takes Me Back, one of those modern country tracks that Nashville is pretending is country though it is really rock. The band makes the difference here, weaving their way around Casper's voice just enough to make a point but not get in the way. They do it again on I Want To Know, substituting a slowed down Foghat rhythm guitar and violin lead on the break. Maybe nothing groundbreaking, but impressive nonetheless.

No doubt, these guys can crank it out or lay it back. They crank it on Down Home Girl, the heavy and chunky rhythm guitar riffs reminiscent of early ZZ Top on the rock side and the heavier side of The Charlie Daniels Band on the country. Topped off by Levinson's violin lead and Glen Lynskey's brassy lead guitar, it choogles its way through four minutes that you wish was ten at a minimum, but that is part of what makes you like these guys--- they don't overdo. There is taste and balance throughout and, man, it would be so easy to let Lynskey and Levinson take over because they are solid players, but the whole band is solid and the good ones know how to balance.

I'm doing you a favor here. The video above is short and a bit rough, but it gives you an idea of what these guys can do. Take a listen to the ripping guitar of Glen Lynskey and, though a bit in the background, Levinson's impressive violin. The rhythm is solid, the playing is solid and Steven Casper holds his own as a frontman. It gives me just enough to regret my not having been there.

But I'm not worried. Casper and Angst are ready to make their move, I think, and opportunities to see them will mushroom. I think. Well, I hope. Maybe. Hmmmm... I think I'm beginning to see where all that angst is coming from. Maybe we should all just start checking the local venues to see if they are playing anywhere near. Just in case. Or buy the EP. Either/or. Or both.

The DJ Bonebrake Trio--- The Other Outside

Holy Harry Partch, Batman! This ain't DJ Bonebrake! At least not the DJ Bonebrake who pounded out the rhythm for X and The Knitters. Hell, he ain't even playing drums! What the hell is that he's playing?

Well, that would be vibraphones, Robin, an instrument seldom used in disco, so you are probably sadly unaware, but DJ isn't. He steps out from behind the set now and again and makes actual music these days with a handful of groups like the Bonebrake Syncopators and Orchestra Superstring, but none as out there as the Trio. Knee-deep in jazz and tripping around the edges of the Twilight Zone, Bonebrake and partners in crime Paul Eckman (upright bass) and Danny Frankel (the guy whose name comes up when people ask, if DJ's not playing drums, who is?) have come up with an intriguing mix of--- and please understand that I am not lessoned in jazz--- themes and variations with elements of sci-fi and (I kid you not) Harry Partch, who evidently heard music in his head which could only be played on instruments he created.

Not that the Trio are that far out there. It is music and, at times, some pretty damn fine music, like when they lay down the Martin Denny-like Bernstein 007, a tune just this side of Quiet Village or the exotic flavors of Tango. This stuff my mother, who absolutely hated jazz, would have loved. Then again, these are the tamest of the tunes offered here. Waltz and its theme are a bit closer to modern classical in jazz format, repeating but not really building and yet... There is something definitely going on and it is very pleasing to the ear, but...

There are a lot of but's on this album, but (I included that one for effect) they are good but's. Bonebrake seems to enjoy dancing on the edge, his vibraphone a reverbed step toward the aforementioned sci-fi, especially on Orpheus and Abstract, at moments perfect soundtrack music for giant beetles and overgrown ants and even the slime of The Blob. Close your eyes and you can see Mickey Rooney growing while the room shrinks or the swamp folks sitting around the glass jar, not the girls head in the swamp water. If you have never heard Harry Partch and wondered, Orpheus and Abstract will give you an idea.

The Bonebrake Trio are bare-butt and recorded live--- vibraphone (and marimba on one track), bass and drums, which helps build the aura. No voice. No knobs and chambers outside of the resonators standard on the instrument. They don't need them. These guys step into their own world when they play--- at least, when they recorded this they did--- and gadgets would be downright superfluous.

One wonders where they will go next. I see a future for them in films. There is something downright eerie you can do with a vibraphone when you do it right and in a lot of thrillers, noise just gets in the way. Building tension through music and effects. Hollywood, you want to cut back? There's only three of these guys and they know what they're doing. Might even be an Oscar in it for you....

Teksti_TV_666--- From Finland, With Love & Guitars

Has anyone checked on Finland lately? Something terrible has happened! Maybe something wonderful! The land that once gave us such artists Tasavallen Presidentti and Jukka Tolonen is once again exploding musical myths, such as how many guitars you need in a band and how much coffee is too much. How many guitars do you need? One? Two? Three? How about five, like the infamous Blue Oyster Cult who prided themselves on at least one song which had five guitar playing ducks lined up on stage? Well, in a fit of Finnish pride, Teksti_TV_666 sometimes lines up six. And when they do, it has to be like one of those tuba playing fests where 100 or so tubas blanket the town square for Christmas carols or marching band music. Oompa's all around, eh?

These guys prefer to storm the stage with guitars and amps, sawmilling their way through outlandish pieces of surf tunes, buzzsawing their way through bits of metal, thrashing their way through a plethora of proto-punk (don't ask me what that is, I just read it somewhere), post-punk, modern post-punk, and punkety-punk-punk, for all I know. The sound is dense, the music intense and the feel ranges from rocking to uplifting to downright oppressive.

https://soundcloud.com/teksti-tv-666

It has taken me awhile to absorb what they are doing, probably due to the way it was recorded. At first, I thought they might have blown the session all to hell, the sound dense enough to drown a person on a foggy day, the vocals subjugated and guitars on overdrive, but multiple listens have me realizing that they meant to do it. They wanted a wall of sound. They wanted to bowl people over. They wanted people to dance and go crazy and immerse themselves in the moment. It is their thing... their charm, even if it is Maxell man crazy. And at moments it truly is, five guitars wailing, a couple sounding like screeching cats in an odd avant-garde way. But it is cool. There is a pulse and it gets beneath your skin. Sometimes you feel like shaking and sometimes you feel like dancing and sometimes you just want to line up and bang your head. Yes. It is way cool.

Makes me wonder what else Finland has to offer. Gary Heffern was born there and is presently on the frozen tundra. He talks about the cold a lot. Maybe headbanging is a way to stay alive. Maybe the lengthy days and beyond-freezing nights make you a little crazy. To listen to Teksti, you might well think so. Think of it. Minus-degree temperatures at night, a Quonset hut and a hundred of your best friends and enemies awaiting the coming onslaught. You know those shots of bands and dancing crowd in a steamy environment you see all the time? You don't need dry ice or smoke machines to get that effect in Finland. Just plop Teksti in there and let the crowd go. It will get plenty steamy in no time.

And, in case you're interested, their latest album is titled 1,2,3.

Sam Marine--- Rockin' the Big Dark City

You need more than five songs to dent ears when you're playing mainstream rock but five is all Sam Marine had and for most it will be enough. The approach was a simple as it gets--- guitars, bass, drums and organ--- “just about as meat and potatoes as it gets,” according to Marine. A lot of guitar, one played by Marine and the other by Brian Whelan, who also tossed in some organ here and there.

While Whelan has had recent success as both an artist and producer, he is smart enough to get out of Marine's way to let him do his thing. His thing is crunch and hook, not unlike artists such as Springsteen, Bon Jovi and the like--- not formula but familiar. You want to rock, Marine will give it to you, pulling out the acoustic to break the monotony (as on “I'll Soon Be Gone, where the guitar finds a loping groove to ride--- with extremely tasteful slide work by Whelan).

There may be only five, but they are a solid five. “Big Dark City” sets the pace with midtempo guitar crunch, “Dawn Come and Gone” powers up the beat, “Freeze em Out” rides the thin line between Springsteen and the Hi-Fi period of ex-Pavlov's Dog David Surkamp before giving way to the tasty acousticity of “I'll Soon Be Gone.” Marine saved a special song to end the EP, a tribute to a friend known as “Mike Lee,” who I would have loved to have known. “He died of an overdose,” Marine said on his one-sheet, “but it's not about that. This song is about what a good guy he was and how he always had your back. He was who I would like to be, the lyrics embracing the man (“If you get along with him, you'll get along with me--- and if you got time for one, we got time for three--- now to the other side of town, with the solitude you found, and all the way back again, Mike Lee”).

In a world in which you might think mainstream rock has all been done, Sam Marine makes it that much better by playing it simple, honest and true. Maybe five songs is enough. Maybe I'm just wishing for more. Five will do for now. Let's hope it is long enough for music fans to adjust their ears. You can hardly find a song out there these days without a fiddle, banjo or mandolin. This is good enough, though, that it might just break through.

Chris Milam--- Kids These Days

Sometimes you just know.  It didn't take more than one listen to Kids These Days to convince me. Chris Milam's voice rides the edge of John Denver's, the very slight tremelo embellishing a song which could easily have been a hit in any of the decades since Denver dominated radio and TV in the seventies. And, sure, it is somewhat of an anomaly, but Milam is not one to cop another person's sound or aura. It just so happened that the voice (and song) has that sound, nothing more. I mean, others might be happy to sound like everyone else---God knows there are enough in the tribute and vocal competition game who are trying to do that--- but Milam has the music in him and he takes it wherever it happens to go.

He is more upbeat than Denver which turns out to be a good thing. After Kids he bounces from one to another of his originals, each written and performed to semi-perfection, or so I think. (Semi- only because perfection is unattainable) There is magic in the grooves here--- All Of Our Ghosts a mid-tempo ballad of sorts, helped along with what sounds like string ensemble; Autumn a slow-rocking tour de force of emotion and voice; Tell Me Something I Don't Know a march-tempo rocker; and an album-ender of which John Denver would have been proud--- At the End of the Day--- a soaring and all-too-short piece (1:23) which wraps up a very impressive collection of songs.

 

It is not just the voice, though Milam has one of the better voices I've heard in some time. It is the heart. You don't write music like this without one and judging from the quality of the songs his is a good one. Love, life, heartbreak, wonder are all topics he touches upon and very well indeed.

Look, I debated whether to even mention Denver. So many of us old fogies are so staid in our ways that we hardly even notice him these days except for the most hardcore fans. But Denver was a good guy and talented as hell, whether you like his music or not. Only time will tell whether Milam meets the requirement for sainthood, but he sure does when it comes to talent.

The album is titled Kids These Days, after the song. I recommend it wholeheartedly if you like mainstream pop/folk/songwriters. Hell, I even recommend it if you don't.

Added bonus--- this is one beautifully produced album. Worth it for that alone. Seriously.  

Quicksilver Daydream--- A Study in Psych

This would be easier to write if everyone had lived my life, for music was a large part of it. I grew up in the Fifties and Sixties and have since seen the ups and downs of musical trends most of you cannot imagine because while the oldest amongst us loved music, theirs was filtered through jukeboxes and radio stations and a few friends who had the desire to hear more and share. So while everyone shared the Beatles experience (we could not get away from it, in fact), the overall effect missed on a massive scale. We remember the hits but few remember the scene except as described above. Most never experienced the listening parties or the hanging out at record stores or the afternoons and nights of the lesser and unknowns played through headphones, the world inside all that mattered. That is what music was to the few and, like scientists immersed in science, we learned. We learned music and its many different paths but mostly we learned how to listen.

And I have been listening to Quicksilver Daydream's Echoing Halls for some time now. What started out as a simple folk/psych album has turned into a full blown experience. Each listen has peeled back a layer and the sounds, as many as there are, are beginning to make sense. Allow me to list what I have heard--- early Jefferson Airplane, The Soundcarriers, The Kingston Trio as heard through the experience of a monk's abbey, Anthony Newley, music fit for Broadway, a sixties junior high rock band, theme music for cinema, Sage Run, John Stewart, and Godley & Creme. And I'm not done yet.

Confusing? I should hope so. Those references came out of ten+ listens and in sometimes short bursts, the sound coming together sometimes for a measure, sometimes for a chorus, but there nonetheless. Don't confuse what I heard for influences. Chances are that The Daydream, who is actually none other than Adam Lytle, has heard only a few of the artists and did not set out to insert something akin to a theme for a hobbit-like or spaghetti western movie. These things just happen. Sometimes organically, and I am assuming that that is the case here, Lytle entering the studio with nothing more than an idea of the sound he wanted on some of the songs, the others solid in his head and creative heart.

In the end, what it all boils down to is psyche, the sound dense and lo-fi, thanks to extreme use of organ, mellotron, reverb and echo, and the sometimes monk-like choruses. Expect nothing flashy. The sound is the key and it is a good sound for those who dream in quicksilver, the mind loose and free.

Bottom line: I like this. I like this a lot. There are surprises throughout and I am enjoying every single one of them. There are caveats here though. Don't expect The Moody Blues or Pink Floyd. Expect the music to change on each track and even within certain tracks. Listen with an open mind, no expectations. Follow those guidelines and you might find Quicksilver Daydream much to your liking.

You can stream the album here. And don't be a needle-dropper (a person who listens to five seconds of a few songs before throwing an album on the trash heap). Give it a chance. Give yourself a chance. This could be one of those albums you might never have heard but for your adventurousness. One of those which shows you that music is only as dead as the person who listens.  

Bravo Max--- Milking the Seventies (and Beyond)

Satin Whale. It took me a while but that's what the opening track of Bullfighter Blues brought to mind the first time I heard it. Never heard of them? Think the jazzy side of Krautrock back the the early seventies. Satin Whale was one of the Brain Trust--- the many German bands which became import classics on the Brain label: Grobschnitt, Thirsty Moon, Neu!, Cluster, and Guru Guru. Some damn fine stuff came out of the Hamburg-based label and Bravo Max, had they stayed with the sound of “Prelude to Clean Slate” could have passed as Brainy, but they didn't. And couldn't. They have music to make.

The music they make, at least on this latest release, is hardly that narrow, the trio reaching out to a string of seventies bands, either knowingly or otherwise. I loved the late-sixties and early-seventies for the wide-open attitude toward music. And not just the hits. I loved the deep, deep tracks by the lesser- and unknowns, the bands few remember but about which there seems to be new interest. If there wasn't, there would not be a Brain box set on the horizon.

Bravo Max is not the only band out there playing loose with the sounds of the past. Hell, I'm pretty sure most don't even know the sounds are of the past, but I can point to Cinci's Mad Anthony as fellow envelope pushers. I'm sure there are others but just none which come to mind at the moment. I love what they're doing, though, and couldn't be more thrilled with Bullfighter Blues.

I hear bits and pieces of May Blitz, Sir Lord Baltimore, The Groundhogs, Jukin' Bone, Damnation, Dust, and others. The thing about these bands is that there was no perfection in their music. They played with abandon, either not having the deep pockets to perfect or preferring to not. Their vocals are hardly perfect but somehow perfectly fitting. Their bedrock grooves allow the guitar room to move, and move it does. They play everything from the jazzy (“Prelude to Clean Slate”) to the punchy (“MI-5's Alive”) to the semi-psychedelic (“Shake Loose Paranoia”) to latent R&B/Soul (“Clean Slate?) and do it with a flair you seldom hear anymore.

I guess you could also call the entire album prog, too, if you want to. They certainly do not live off of major chords most of the time and they change time signatures on certain songs like newborns change diapers. Neither quickly nor smoothly (what the biz sometimes calls “tight”) but openly and honestly. They give the music, warts and all.

Favorite tracks: “Prelude to Clean Slate,” though it certainly could be longer (it clocks in at a mere 1:32); “Clean Slate,” thanks to its R&B groove and horns; “Raise a Toast,” a cross between real seventies rock and what the major labels would have preferred; and “Black Sugar,” for the rhythm and chorus. Good, good stuff.

There is an awful lot of good music thus far this year but this one is special. I can see myself playing this as a palate cleanser, an album to clear the standard out of my ears, to clear the head. It might very well take one of the top spots the course of this year, it being just far enough outside the envelope to make a real dent.

And to think I almost passed this one by. Man, am I happy I didn't!  

Highlight Bomb--- Acing Their Finals!

(Originally written in 2012, the year the album Finals was released.  Which doesn't make it less viable.  The album, in fact, is one of those which stands the test of time very well.  This reprint courtesy of a brand new release by the band--- Slobberknockers, which I will review as soon as I take care of this...)

Ladies and Gentlemen, from Seattle--- Highlight Bomb!

I mean well. I started meaning well on the Net by bookmarking things. There was never enough time, I thought, so I would bookmark pages in the hopes of getting back to them later. Soon, I had hundreds of bookmarks (and still do). My sister, when checking her email on my computer one day, asked me why. At that time, I could not think of one good reason. In the back of my mind, I always hoped to get to some of them.

Last week, I clicked on a page for a band calling themselves Highlight Bomb. I have no idea where I found the link, whether it was passed along by a friend or just popped up one day on one of my many searches and I, always interested in things Seattle, saved it. After listening to a few of the songs, I regretted not getting to them right after bookmarking. These guys are not only good, but diversified, musically. They crank and boogie and metal out extremely well indeed, with the occasional pop tune thrown in for good measure. To make up for losing them in the mountainous pile of projects I wish I could get to but somehow seem to not, here are a couple of videos and thumbnail reviews of songs left behind but now getting ample listening time. I’m impressed.

Okay, they’re really from Tacoma, but seriously, would any of you looked had I said Tacoma? Fewer, I will bet. Maybe a lot fewer. Such is the power of a music scene. While Seattle and Tacoma have always shared a scene, mention Tacoma and you get a blank stare. Except from Sonics and Wailers fans. The thing is, these guys are good! And the sense of humor doesn’t hurt. Allow me to give you a blow-by-blow description in case you’re strapped for time (or are just an idiot who whines about music being a thing of the past but who won’t take a couple of minutes to click and listen to something new and good):

No Empire— Is this grunge? Truth be told, I stopped listening as soon as people started calling it grunge. All of those bands you loved to listen to like Mudhoney and Alice In Chains and Pearl Jam and Nirvana were just rockers to me. Maybe a little more angst-ridden, but just rock. This is a guitar-driven song reminding me a bit of a toned down Ticktockman or a King’s X. A little more basic with more standard hooks. I dig it.

Fall Classic— leans more toward the power pop side of the street. Fountains of Wayne with less production. Great track. Good hook.

I Don’t Mind— Wait! Acoustic? Yep. These guys do it all. Outstanding acoustic pop, in fact. Normally, I would complain because I am not a huge fan of acoustic— it has been overdone a bit—- but I dig all music when it is done well and these guys do it well. I like this a lot. Even with the strings (or is it only cello).

Devolver— Now we’re talking! A step into Freedom Hawk territory. Crankin’ hard rock. In fact, this song sounds a lot like the Hawk, a band I’ve been following for some time now. Crunching rhythm guitar, heavy beat. Just to compare:

Wow Culture Lovers— This starts off like a speed metal prelude, but settles down to a solid hard rocker. Whoever writes their lyrics has a nice touch. It comes through on all the songs, but I especially like the lyrics on this one.

Chalk It Up As a Good Memory— Chunky rhythm guitar and power pop. Great combination if you ask me. This one is upbeat and powerful. As with all of HB‘s songs, they are recorded loud to be played loud, as the old LP stickers used to say. And I love me a little guitar feedback now and then.

The Storm— These guys love their hard rock. This one, Toto, is right now my favorite. Heavy rhythm guitar with seventies hair band vocals and a slower beat. Had Cinderella played this at the one concert I saw them play, I wouldn’t have blinked an eye. But I like these guys more than I ever liked them.

Coal Rush— What the hell? Speed Americana? It’s like speed metal with a banjo or something. Dig the chorus, but think it will take a bit of time to adjust. Interesting, to say the least. And is that a female voice I hear? Damn! This is really good!

https://highlightbomb.bandcamp.com/track/coal-rush

Bury You— Of all the song titles on this page, I would have thought this the hardest of them all with the exception of The Storm. This is mainstream rock and nothing like the other tracks there. I’m impressed! I think I’m ready for that ode to pretentious bands of the late seventies now. Except this isn’t pretentious at all. I would take this over most of the inane bands I’ve heard over the years anytime. Good track, but a surprise!

1-800-FIGHTUS— I knew they would get there. Screaming punk. I can see the saliva dribbling down the singer’s chin now. Very cool.

Seriously, if you have an adventurous bone in your body and like power pop/metal, these guys could be the sleeper of your collection. The more I hear them, the more I’m liking them. Bombs, and whoever sent me the link to this page, my apologies for not paying attention. You have earned your slot in my rockin’ hall of fame (small letters intentional— can’t be getting sued by those wankers in Cleveland now, can I? Now with my bank account).

These songs are not on the Finals album but they will give you a good idea of who Highlight Bomb are:

Frank O. Gutch Jr.

Sam Wilson--- Green Gates

For an album made mainly because Sam Wilson did not want to leave the handful of songs he had ready in the dust, Green Gates is an astonishing accomplishment. Normally plucking guitar for Charlottesville's up and coming Sons of Bill, Peyton Tochterman's High Society and the back-in-the-game (and about time) Shannon Worrell, he sidesteps into a world inhabited by bandmates Brian Chenault, Wells Hanley, Brian Caputo and Darrell Muller to unload eleven outstanding originals worthy of two of the best of the 'lost' late sixties and early seventies bands, unusual in their composition and produced to perfection. The bands of which I speak are Byzantium, a UK group who produced a stunning album picked up by Warner Brothers Records in the States and quickly buried by the apathy of radio (The second LP was released on A&M in the UK and was not picked up in the States, possibly due to the round of silence surrounding the WB album), and Chicago's much respected Illinois Speed Press. Despite the lack of success of both bands (Illinois Speed Press did sell, but not in the numbers Columbia Records had hoped), they were on the whole critically well received and worthy of a much better fate, but such is the music biz, and today the LPs command a hefty price at auction. Those bands also produced musicians of note, by the way, Byzantium's Chaz Jankel releasing a fairly successful album for A&M a few years later, and ISP's Kal David and Paul Cotton having extended careers, David with The Fabulous Rhinestones and others, Cotton with Poco and then solo.

Fortunately and unfortunately, the ghost of Illinois Speed Press appears only on the title track, “Green Gates,” but what a ghost it is, and totally unintentional, according to Wilson. He swears he has never heard ISP, but you cannot mistake the dueling lead guitars of Wilson and Brian Chenault a la David and Cotton on ISP's “P.N.S. (When You Come Around)” off of ISP's first album. The light and floating riffs of one are superb contrast to the brassy and more forceful riffs of the other--- pure guitar magic. Make no mistake, though. “Green Gates” stands on its own and the guitars just make it that much better.

The other ten tracks live in that netherworld which makes Wilson's musical vision so fascinating, the voices instruments in an ensemble of keyboards and guitars bowing to production. Wilson could have easily forced the issue, layering tracks into oblivion, but he somehow found a true balance between tape loops, synthesizers, reverb and tremolo and came out of the tunnel with dreamlike scenarios which effortlessly carry you away. In the seventies, we usually waited until late evening or very early morning to put Byzantium on the turntable, when we were more receptive to the whole other side of the music--- the subconscious, if you will. Wilson and crew have musically recreated the era without even realizing it, I am sure, even the rockers having that smooth progressive psych edge to them, almost Moody Blues-like, but better.

No doubt, a major label or two will perk their ears up at this. I fervently hope that Sam Wilson turns a deaf ear for awhile, at least, because throwing money at music many times destroys it and Green Gates is the start of what could easily be an outstanding beginning to a major, major musical career.

Albums like this are the real treasures in today's world of music. Each hearing produces not only highs but surprises, for there are gems hidden beneath the glimmering surface which take effort to uncover. It is adventure and any time you put music and adventure together, you have a winner. Miss this at your peril.

(Frank Gutch Jr. writes and has written for numerous magazines and websites, presently including this blog and the prestigious Don't Believe A Word I Say site put together by musician and music pundit Bob Segarini out of Toronto. He specializes in the Indies, having fought hand-to-hand combat with major record labels for decades (talk about zombies). He believes music should be the core of the music business, though business it mostly be, and denies the accepted reality in the stead of the artistic one. Seldom does he receive pay for articles and/or reviews and believes that there is no place for negatives in a world in which one cannot keep up with the positives. He is, in a sense, a lost soul in a sea of music, drowning, but drowning gratefully.)

TICKTOCKMAN--- tick...tock...tick...tock

Goddamn, but I love some energetic and powerful music sometimes if only to offset this acoustic rut the world seems to have fallen into. I remember when the “unplugged” craze hit and I remember cursing the musical gods with epithets which mostly contained the phrase, “If God had wanted us to listen to acoustic music all the time, he would not have invented electric guitar and amplifiers!” And I meant it. I mean, a lot of the bands which gave up stacks of Marshalls to sit on stools or folding chairs barely made it behind the wall of sound the amps created. Acoustically, their warts grew to sci-fi proportions, the music barely passable if that. Nope, give me electric most of the time and give it to me in mountainous proportions. I want time changes and power and a voice to string it together. I want rhythms which force you to listen or leave--- that's right, I don't want the unadventurous invading my space. Wait! That's it! Headslap! I want adventure!

And there are few bands out there as adventurous as Ticktockman. These guys are like anemones. Ideas fall onto them and they digest them and somehow come up with culinary delights for the ears way beyond most of the tripe passing for music these days. Dare I call them progressive? What does that mean anymore? Hard rock? They definitely have a hard edge but they don't play hard rock, at least not the three chord blast-em-out version many of us accept as such. Grunge? I still haven't quite figured out what that is, perhaps because I had lived through a couple of decades of rock metamorphoses before it came along.

I can tell you this. They are powerful. They are tight--- asshole-tight, as my old drill sergeant used to say. They are adventurous, grabbing influences wherever and whenever it strikes their fancy. You don't hear jazzy guitar solos in the midst of tracks like “Scavenger! Move Along!” without a sense of adventure.

I can point out bands which also have that sense of adventure: Captain Beyond, King's X, Living Colour, and that's only three, although three of my all-time favorites. I'm sure there are others, though at the present I am amped up on caffeine and don't really care. What I care about is getting the word out about Ticktockman. You should hear these guys, if only to give you fodder for your next “Trash the Gutchman” rant. If only to prove me right or wrong. If only to, in the best case scenario, find a band to set you back on your heels.

Musicians! There are a handful of bands out there you should be hearing! Bands which are a step above, both musically and rhythmically. These guys are one. Pick your instrument (and I don't mean the fleugelhorn) and get set to be schooled. These guys are that good!

Words aren't enough? Good news! You can stream them here!

(Frank Gutch Jr. writes and has written for numerous magazines and websites, presently including this blog and the prestigious Don't Believe A Word I Say site put together by musician and music pundit Bob Segarini out of Toronto. He specializes in the Indies, having fought hand-to-hand combat with major record labels for decades (talk about zombies). He believes music should be the core of the music business, though business it mostly be, and denies the accepted reality in the stead of the artistic one. Seldom does he receive pay for articles and/or reviews and believes that there is no place for negatives in a world in which one cannot keep up with the positives. He is, in a sense, a lost soul in a sea of music, drowning, but drowning gratefully.)

Iron Bridge Band--- Against the Grain

Holy crap! Mainstream rock is not dead! Not even close. I know this because I stumbled upon The Iron Bridge Band--- actually, it was foisted upon me but I really don't care. I won't write about music I don't like but here I am writing about these guys so it should tell you something--- either I am a shill for a mega-corporation or I've heard something worth hearing. One look at my bank account should tell you it is not the former.

So where the hell has the IBB been? New Jersey. I would say strangely or oddly but New Jersey has been cranking out rockers for decades. Okay, I can't name anyone besides Springsteen and The Grip Weeds, but they are two of the big success stories right there--- one financially and the other artistically (and they probably are able to pay their bills as well). I would certainly not be surprised that half of the bands claimed by New York were originally from New Jersey too. New York is like a sponge or the 1950s Soviet Union, who was always claiming that they created God and everything else from that point on.

Well, IBB claims NJ home and I'm not disputing it. No, sirree. I'm not disputing anything these guys are dipping their wicks into. No reason to. Not only are they mainstream they are big sound mainstream, what many would claim as Big Hair mainstream. I have no idea, having never seen a picture of the band, but the big sound is impressive.

There is a bit of the loud bands of the late-seventies and early-eighties in them, guitars upfront and personal and the vocals right in front of them. Lead vocal chores are courtesy of one Chandler Mogel and he could easily sing back-to-back with vocalists from the likes of Winger or Zebra or even Cinderella or Van Halen. He is pushed hard by the guitars of Stephen Jude Walsh and bass and drums of Lanie Suky and Scott Suky, respectively. Add percussion and voice of Amy Anderson and we have a winner.

One thing that can be said about really good mainstream rock is that it can be anthemic, the kind of music which will have the dinosaurs reaching for their Bic lighters. When they rock, they rock, but when they want to make a point.....

What can I say? All the words in the world will not tell you accurately what they sound like. Check out their YouTube channel for more.

Hey, the seventies were a good time if you discount disco. Take a chance.

(Frank Gutch Jr. writes and has written for numerous magazines and websites, presently including this blog and the prestigious Don't Believe A Word I Say site put together by musician and music pundit Bob Segarini out of Toronto. He specializes in the Indies, having fought hand-to-hand combat with major record labels for decades (talk about zombies). He believes music should be the core of the music business, though business it mostly be, and denies the accepted reality in the stead of the artistic one. Seldom does he receive pay for articles and/or reviews and believes that there is no place for negatives in a world in which one cannot keep up with the positives. He is, in a sense, a lost soul in a sea of music, drowning, but drowning gratefully.)

What Is It?--- Punk Rock in SoCal, 1977-83

(Disclaimer--- this was posted a number of years ago on a website which used a variety of apps which are not available here, thus the comments about the font.)

Like the guys on this album would rip me a new one for using that fancy font, eh? Probably not because the musicians who made up a large part of the punk scene in Los Angeles in those days have moved on and, hell, it was a music scene, fer Chrissakes, and not an all-out war with the establishment like the record companies would have had you believe. Sure, there was angst and tension and even anger now and again. Welcome to Youthville! The only reason the young hippies were so mellow was that they were stoned all the time! Take away that nefarious weed and they could well have ended up spitting on sidewalks, each other and, worse, you!

I look back to those days and almost laugh. I say 'almost' because as crazed as some of these musicians thought they were, they were part of a small piece of music history which was luckily captured by Chris Ashford at What Records. Born and raised on surf and pop, Chris one day found himself surrounded by friends with spiked hair and safety pin piercings and, in pure self defense (he claims), he acquiesced. Well, not completely, because he refused to pierce anything, shall we say, too personal and his curly blond hair, no matter what he did with it, remained curly and blond. Know what? It may well have been wavy and blond. But I'm getting off the point here. Point is, he was there and so were they and damned if he didn't end up recording some of the bands being ignored by the established music interests and pretty soon here was a single and there was a single and eventually a compilation album and voila! What Is It?

This isn't the first time most of these tracks have been on LP. Most were there when the first compilation was released on, amazingly enough, What Records (this one is on Wondercap), but Ashford decided to blow the dust off of two tracks heretofore buried in his vaults (a handful of cardboard boxes stashed toward the back of a closet, a constant bone of contention between him and his girlfriend) and put two previously unreleased tracks on this one, those being by The Spastics. For the first time anywhere, the world is exposed to their recorded music (I'm a Spaz/Fuck the World and Baby, You String Me Up/Your Head Exploding) and might not be all the better for it. The Spastics, even supported by the future David Baerwald (David and David, Sheryl Crow), were not exactly crowd favorites wherever they played and, like the liner notes say, they “had the fire extinguisher turned on them during their swansong performance” at The Masque. An aside: The author of those liner notes is working on finishing up a book about those early punk days tentatively titled Destroy All Music.

You get the picture then, right? Throw in all of the standards of the time, though many would argue the term, and you have a history of oddball punk with tracks by The Germs (Forming and 'Round and 'Round), San Diego transplants The Dils (I Hate the Rich),The Eyes (Don't Talk To Me), The Skulls (On Target), The Controllers (Killer Queers), Kaos (Top Secret), and Agent Orange(Out of Limits). Hell of a lineup and including future names like DJ Bonebrake, the aforementioned David Baerwald, Johnny Stingray, Charlotte Caffey, and Darby Crash, among others.

Watch out, though. Though the young punks have mellowed and even burned out, the music is as brash as ever. If you were there, you will undoubtedly want to turn this up and recreate some of those adrenal rushes you experienced listening to the bands or the records in the old days. If you weren't, chances are you will want to turn it up anyway. There is something about these punks that doesn't sound quite right when played at a low volume and, hell, that would be defeating the purpose of this music in the first place. So turn it up, my friends, and be thankful that there is a Chris Ashford out there watching over your music. And if you don't agree, there are fire extinguishers everywhere. Chris will be that old surfer dude with the long curly (or wavy) brown hair. Tell him Frank sent you.

By the way, What Is It is available for download or will be eventually and the 10-inch vinyl record is ready for shipping from Wondercap Records. If you visit, check out the other releases, including a fine rock/jazz album by DJ Bonebrake Trio. The drummer for X playing vibraphones? Very cool. And doing one hell of a job on them, too.

(Frank Gutch Jr. writes and has written for numerous magazines and websites, presently including this blog and the prestigious Don't Believe A Word I Say site put together by musician and music pundit Bob Segarini out of Toronto. He specializes in the Indies, having fought hand-to-hand combat with major record labels for decades (talk about zombies). He believes music should be the core of the music business, though business it mostly be, and denies the accepted reality in the stead of the artistic one. Seldom does he receive pay for articles and/or reviews and believes that there is no place for negatives in a world in which one cannot keep up with the positives. He is, in a sense, a lost soul in a sea of music, drowning, but drowning gratefully.)