Singles Column Volume Nine with Special Beehive Records Evaluation...

Cheap Time "Spoiled Brat" Sweet Rot Records
I think these Nashville teens have finally found the outlet for their Redd Kross obsession. What was initially an attempt at a Brentwoods rip-off band now has Nathan from Be Your Own Pet on drums. The excitable Jeffrey Novak has put out more at his age than Paris Hilton…from his one man band to the Rat Traps and now this he's got to be over 10+ releases, all of it pretty damn reliable. The churning West Coast-lite punk here is easily digestible. More please.

Ghosting/Robedoor split single Not Not Fun Records
Does this spin at 33rpm? Plucky string stumbles over a droning, atmospheric bed give Ghotsing's "Rivermouth" an interesting beginning that goes nowhere very slowly. Unfortunately, listening to it at 45rpm doesn't change a thing. There's a bit of feedback, but in my opinion it is far too quiet and far too buried to be enjoyed. Run-out groove reads "PDX GHOSTS".

Robedoor's "Roving Shaman" starts very similar to "Rivermouth" but slowly, almost unnoticeably, builds volume only to pull back to a dull din. This reminds me of the Songs of the Humpback Whale LP I've been so into lately. Total whale ballads dude. Robedoor wins…by reason of volume change and locked groove. Run-out groove reads "LA ROBES" and "Cut By:…" followed by some Japanese symbols. I should know who that is by now. Limited edition of 325.

Spider and the Webs "Frozen Roses" K Records
I thought this was supposed to be straight-up garage? "Frozen Roses" leans a little bit twee-er than I remember. While "It's Lovely Weather For Ducks" is a charming title, it's almost British in sound. "Mister Hypnotist" is a smoking hot mover with snappy drums and reverbed guitar that gets it right. I've been hip-mo-tized! Misto-hypno is far and away the best thing on this record. No moody, glum Norwest soundtrack to rain…the undeniable awesomeness of "Mister Hypnotist" (with writing credit to Satan (?) and Al Larsen (Some Velvet Sidewalk)) makes up for the complete let-down of the other two songs

Hatebeak/Birdflesh split single, Relapse Records
Hatebeak has a parrot as their lead singer. Death metal in the form of Dethklok is fine and dandy as long as it's a joke, right? Even so, if you've got a parrot singing, fucking milk that shit dry? I counted three parrot sounds TOPS in these two songs. What gives? Get that tastes-like-chicken punk off Captain Jack's shoulder and lock him in the vocal booth until he produces. Jeez, it's like I gotta do everything around here.

Birdflesh is much more brutal. Like, totally brutal. I just can't tell if they're serious or not. Birdflesh wins.

Brimstone Howl "Heat of the Beat" Speed! Nebraska Records
I get a Stooges with Scott Thurston feel on "Heat of the Beat"…the electric piano coupled with equally chugging and burning guitar (a la James Williamson) deserves a shitty Bowie mix and a Mick Rock photo to make it just perfect. The lyrics/vocals are Ramones-like in their dumb simplicity.


Flip of "Six and Seven" is trad country/gospel progression that could pass for a Greg Cartwright song if you squint your ears just right. And the organ sounds from Dave Goldbergensteinblum equally recall Quintron's more soulful moments. And they're from Nebraska? Good onya. Recommended. Though I've got one small complaint…the screen-printed paper sleeves have left an impression on the vinyl that reads "rimston howl". Not cool…let that shit dry in the future.

Black Hollies/Dansettes split single, Ernest Jenning Record Co.
A-side has the Hollies doing "Hush" and while most people know it by Deep Purple (and really, that's not a bad thing) it's written by Joe South. Appearances by JB Flatt of the Dansettes on groovy organ stabs and the actual Dansettes on backing vox flesh out the arrangement. But if they're serious in their claim to be "in the vein of the Yardbirds, the Pretty Things, the Who, the Pink Floyd Sound, The Cream, The spirit of Stax…" they are clearly failing. This recalls none of the spark or energy or excitement on even the most flaccid of recordings from any of those bands. I mean, come on, you're four white guys from Jersey who used to be (still are?) in Rye Coalition, you can't just put on a velvet jacket and automatically think you've got people fooled.

The Dansettes "Forty Days" is so close to nailing the vintage mid-Sixties Motown sound that I wish it came with company letterhead ready for a staff meeting evaluation and that Smokey was locked outside the boardroom begging to be let in. Ah…other people's memories. While I wouldn't choose this over a hot dog if I was starving hungry and down to my last dollar, I would consider it. The bassline is just close enough to the Four Tops "Bernadette" without sounding like a straight rip-off and while I'm not in love with Jaime Kozyra's vocal phrasing and delivery it still appears to work. When the "You Keep Me Hanging On" telegraph-sounding. Robert White imitation guitar licking sneaks its way in the backdoor towards the end the feeling is pretty blissful. Well done. The Dansettes blow the Black Hollies out of the water.

Baby Gecko/Soft Shoulder split, Gilgongo
Three of the four BG songs sound entirely/only influenced by the Butthole Surfers' "Who Was In My Room Last Night?" and that is just about the highest compliment I can give. Have you not heard that song, do yourself a favor and find it and proceed to have your brain eviscerated by point-by-point perfect rock and roll.

It's almost like Soft Shoulder didn't have a chance…but the drop-tuned guitar, sax and clarinet work together in a wildly original manner. I wanna say a bit no wave but this seems to hold a particular ferocity that the No New York bands oftentimes lacked. And with the clari, I'm thinking more of the JSBX version of the Chain Gang's "Son of Sam". And I just happened to have that in my head all day. Crazy weird.

Despite having the Buttholes on their side, Soft Shoulder wins this one by the nose of a clarinet.

Cuckold "Blood on My Hands" Beehive Recording Company
Don't be confused…this is a digital-only single. Just before midnight last night (April 21st) the fine feathered folks behind Beehive launched their digital storefront and this is the debut string of one and zeros.

"Blood on My Hands" recalls Mudhoney's self-titled album with a twist of hi-hat skedaddle that, for better or worse, you don't tend to hear from Dan Peters. I was not expecting to like this and I'm slightly impressed. The, uh, flip (?) "Bad Reputation" is a Bo Diddley-beat verse coupled with a Stooge "1969"-like guitar ramble. Then the chorus gets all Mule and they lose me. Oh well, one for two leaves them batting .500 and still makes them way better than Willie Mays ever was.

You tell me…will people get excited and interested in Mp3's of bands not known outside of Detroit? One of the selling points is supposed to be the artwork, but as you can see on the Cuckold cover, it's very underwhelming. And the space between the bottom of the "K" and the "O"…is it really supposed to look like that? I know it's the first release and there's still a lot of kinks to be worked out, but I'm overly-critical because I honestly want to see this label thrive.
In my opinion, the Beehive approach is somewhat backward. For a label that believes in and has been enthralled by the allure of the 7" single, selling downloads to facilitate proposed "eventual" seven-inch pressings is not the way to go about things. There's no need to embrace the digital download medium just because that's where it seems the business is heading (the fact that these bands and this town are so far away from what's actually the "biz" needs to be accounted for too). The industry has been far too wrong far too often for us to blindly follow its lead. Example: Anyone own any commercially released Minidiscs? If you believe in a format like the 7" single, USE IT! Don't plan on using it later.

Knowing that a chunk of change has been sunk into the Beehive's start-up is disconcerting. Granted a lot of the costs have gone toward establishing the studio end of the deal, but on the other end, pressing a 7" single is not cost prohibitive. Here's a slight twist that I think the Beehive will (sooner rather than later) have to embrace to become viable.

Start by pressing the 7". For $510 you can press 200 copies of a seven-inch right here in beautiful Detroit. Don't worry about picture sleeves because most of the best singles never came with those anyway. And the label only needs to have one color because we're just worried about the music, right? Hell, I volunteer to rubber stamp all those singles by hand to save you the $90 printed labels run. With those 200 singles, give a batch to the band. I usually would say 10%, but because that's barely anything, go with 20%. That leaves you with 160 copies of the record. If you're into promo, you can give some copies away, toss 'em all on your bedroom floor, go skeet shooting with them, whatever. If that takes up more than 60 copies (which, I can say, is A LOT of records to give away) you're still left with 100 copies to sell. $5 a pop, on your website direct to the consumer. Don't fuck around with middlemen because if the Internet has proven anything it's the demise of the big distro. If the songs are as good and moving as they should be, getting rid of 100 copies is NOTHING. That's a week, easy. And if you can ONLY sell 100 copies, you're only out ten bucks. If you can sell 102 copies…BAM! You broke even.

And the 7" is something that has already solidly proven its allure and collectibility. A lot of people will buy a single who don't own record players, don't care about the band or are just looking for an "investment". I can give a shit as to what people after they buy something from me as a record sold is always a record sold.

So when you're immediately sold out of this single and everyone's hoarding copies like they're the antidote to stupidity, you pop out your sleek website and say "hey, the seven-inch may be sold out, but if you want to hear the songs, you can download them here." Hell, include a bonus track too if you're savvy and you got one. This isn't rocket science. This can work.

If you can't sell 100 copies of a 7" are you really going to be able to sell more than 100 downloads of the same thing? I don't know the answer to that but I have my doubts.
That being said, these two songs are the first music downloads I have ever paid for. I thought the download/Paypal process could've been streamlined, but then I also don't know how it works with the iTunes store. The whole thing leaves me excited, concerned, cautious and optimistic all at the same time. In world where most music fails to elicit ANY reaction from me, that's quite a thing to be said. Godspeed Beehive.
www.thebeehiverecordingco.com

Tragedy Befalls the Stooges at Fox Theater...

Sticking piously to the age-old dictum "revenge is a dish best served cold" the Scorpions biker gang showed up at the Fox Theater Friday night and unleashed a firestorm of verbal and physical abuse on the visibly flustered reunited rock band Iggy and the Stooges.

Still-seething after Iggy and company's inflammatory performance February 5, 1974 at the Rock and Roll Farm in Wayne, the Scorpions (despite much baiting on WABX from the Ig himself) chose to avoid the Stooges ersatz "final show" on February 9th and without the formidable foes Iggy floundered onstage through remedial renditions of "Louie, Louie" and other shit Metallic K.O. makes you wish you'd forgotten.

There was no question the Scorpions would avoid the August 25th Stooges reunion show in 2003 (a national CPA convention in Seattle found most of the gang pre-occupied) but showing up at the Fox was totally unexpected. They collectively unleashed a hail of beer bottles, rotten fruit, laptops, car batteries and the like. One particularly portly Scorpion, slightly resembling guru Rick Rubin, made his way onto the stage, commandeered the microphone and bellowed "Iggy and the fucking Stooges…YOU FUCKING DIE!" before tackling Iggy and beating him into a bloody ball of flesh.

But up until that point, the night was sublime.

I'd held off on fully forming an opinion of The Weirdness until experiencing the songs off it in the live arena. And as unused to them as I was, those songs held up. "Trollin'" was catchy and had me yelling its title later in the night in front of the abandoned United Artists theater. How come no one's brought up how "My Idea of Fun" is strongly reminiscent of Sonic Youth's "Sugar Kane"? Not only is that a great reference point, but the lyrics themselves are yet another in a long line of Iggy doublespeak. To me, it's unclear whether Iggy's idea of fun is, simply, killing everyone OR Iggy's idea of fun is something else (Quaaludes, hop-scotch, cliff-diving, ghost-riding, chainsaw juggling) and that activity in turn is killing everyone. Hearing "My Idea of Fun" on local modern rock radio feels like some strange victory…Scott's sweet pre-solo drum fill making way for Ron's searing licks along with Iggy barking "I hate mankind" in a wonderfully sophomoric Flipper sort of way on the airwaves alongside My Chemical Romance or Fall-Out Boy is all the proof you need for the clear lack of relevance of those bands.

First obligatory Matt Smith quote: "The Weirdness is not the follow-up to Funhouse. It's the follow-up to Metallic K.O." Whatever dude.

As much as I surprisingly dug the new jams, this oldies act would be nothing without their back catalog. Thing is, I've seen the reformed Stooges a bunch…the DTE Show in '03, Primavera Festival in Barcelona in '05 and all across Australia during the Big Day Out Festival in '06. The DTE show was instantly legendary while Spain was kind of a downer and Australia fluctuated (Hank Rollins at the side of the stage every night, nerding out like you wouldn't believe) with Melbourne (or Detroit South as it has been known) sticking out as the best of that bunch.

The songs off the self-titled album were good, but left me thinking something was missing. Did the juice in those songs lie in Ron's overdubbed solos which (with one guitar player) are difficult to replicate without losing the rhythm? I think so.

But saving the day was Steve Mackay. I think this guy is really the secret behind the success of these reunion gigs. He adds squawky balls where needed and frees up Ron to shred. Just like I remembered from Australia, Steve waltzes on-stage unannounced and COMPLETELY NAILS his first four notes on "1970 (I Feel Alright)" exactly as they sound on Funhouse. And everything else after that is like he's shooting smoke on his fingers. And with his full head of hair (opposed to his usually short locks) he looks just as bad ass as his photo in the deluxe Funhouse re-ish.

Second obligatory Matt Smith quote: "Sax was heavy."

Iggy's vocal take on "1970" was interesting…he tossed in some of his swaggering croon on the "burn my heart"/"fall apart" couplet and the inflection actually added an impressive new dynamic like that old dog lucked into some new tricks…like the bashing of his vocal mic into the main house speakers creating an exciting and thud that rang sonorous throughout the ornate cupola of the Fox.

I dug Mike Watt's amp hump in "LA Blues". His overall lack of tossing jazz into songs originally performed by a guy who continually managed to play the bass like he'd never picked one up before was appreciated.

The lack of "Little Doll" in the setlist didn't bum me out as much as I thought it would. But I would really like to see them tackle "Ann" and toss on the frenetic "Dance of Romance" ending as featured on the deluxe double disc edition of the first album. But that's me just being fanboy. Though I still think "We Will Fall" could really bring down the house.

The Stooges are the last band of their kind. As has been noted before, in their day they attracted a degenerate crowd of convicts, junkies, bikers and overall deviants as if they were the only game in town for them weirdos. The thing is, I don't think any band this day and age would be able to recreate that kind of following with the Stooges kind of sound. There's just too much oddball stuff out there nowadays that's easily accessible…bands like Lightning Bolt and Wolf Eyes get written up in Spin and all the real nut-cases are currently into black metal and drone. But the Stooges still attract a majority of their old crowd. Sans the Scorpions there were a bevy of hard ass take-no-shit motherfuckers in the room. I was honestly a bit on edge and scared knowing that just about anything could happen yet not knowing what exactly would happen.

But that's one of the base principles of rock and roll. There should be an unexpected element. Surprise even. Add to that a feeling of fear…remember, this was a music that originally scared people and it's always important to keep a dose of that in the mix.

You could smell it in the air, you knew shit was going to go down. That it would come in the form of an Altamont-worthy beating delivered by one of the Scorpions on Iggy was unexpected. While their DTE show is arguably the best live music performance I have ever witnessed, the Fox Theater was a stellar example for everyone in attendance on how to do it right.



Side note: Anyone else hear the story of how ? and the Mysterians were supposed to open this show? (First off…would that not have been badass? Both bands together only missing one original member? On Woodward Avenue in downtown Detroit? Excuse me while I climb into my time machine. I think Powertrane is unexciting and tired while Scott Morgan should stick to singing soul in the Solution.)
Anyturd, word on the street was that the Stooges offered the slot to ? and company and whoever was negotiating for the Mysterians (manager? Booking agent? I don't know) accepted with the caveat that their teenaged niece could come out and perform a song with the Stooges. Needless to say, the Stooges respectfully(?) declined and ? and the Mysterians missed out on a prime chance to play in front of a big crowd and possibly make some dough in the process. Please, someone tell me this is just a cruel rumour.

WDET: This is Not a Eulogy

(two of these people used to have WDET shows. One of these people still has a satellite radio show. And one of these people will always have pit stains)

With the departure of new music programming on Detroit’s WDET radio, the area is left devoid of a proper broadcast outlet for independent music. Wah-wah boo-hoo, I know. Perhaps this is the siren song we all need to hear…reach out to satellite, hi-def or podcasts. It’s only a matter of time. I’m sure network television initially thought no one in their right mind would PAY for TV…and now, do we have the Nielsen ratings for the Sopranos premier?

My first memory of WDET was sitting in the passenger seat of my mother’s Pontiac 6000 and her saying “That’s my cousin” as she flipped through the dial and Martin Bandyke’s voice came across.

I remember wondering why we didn’t listen to him more. I (with my mother) would never hear him in her car again. My thoughts were, if my cousin was on the radio, I would want to listen the them all the time. But I guess my mom wasn’t a big Los Lobos fan.

My first appointment listening to the station would be Wily Wilson’s Friday night-time show starting sometime in the late 90’s. He’d always start with Pookie McClain’s (right? Pookie McClain? I can’t find any verification on this) “Do the Uncle Willie” taken from some god-forsakenly scratched single. And occasionally he’d be brilliant…the Halloween show where he rocked Larry and the Blue Notes “Night of the Phantom” and his “Hey Joe-a-thon” where he played an impressive string of versions of “Hey Joe” (favorites being the Roks, a Michigan garage band from the ‘60s featuring actual gun shots on the recording and the Deep Purple long-as-hell version) were memorable.

Despite his unproven claim of being the first person to play the White Stripes on the radio, (I remember CJAM in Windsor being first) Wily was an ardent and early supporter of all things Detroit rock and roll. His show is easily where most of the rockers in this town first heard their own songs broadcast. I can’t remember where I first heard a Dirtbombs song I performed on over the radio, but have just come to assume that it was probably Wily who was responsible for the spin.

And although I’ve never heard the actual show, there was the legendary tale of Tom Potter being interviewed live on-air and drunk. The disastrous results almost cost Wily his job and found Potter writing a letter of apology to the station. If anyone has a copy of this, PLEASE, I would love to hear whether it was “salty meatstick” or “salty milkshake” which Tom asked whether or not he could say on-air.

While interviewing the Go in March of ’99 on the show, Dave Buick, the smart-ass he is, asked Wily “Can I say ‘Tom Potter’ on-air?”

Or Wily, introducing the individual Dirtbombs on his show in 2001, Potter’s response being “Hi, I’m not allowed to speak.”

I also remember a hazy, half-asleep night hearing 2 Star Tabernacle’s version of “Who’s to Say” (or possibly “Garbage Picker”) taken from a live recording at the Gold Dollar. That was pretty cool and weird and rare. I would oftentimes apologize to Wily for falling asleep during his show and it was always met with a laugh. I did all I could to stay up and would hope for a tune that could change my life’s trajectory.

The few times I actually visited the studio it was fun…whether it was Ed Love pitching a fit about the White Stripes recording full-blast while he’s trying to broadcast from the other room (thus leaving the band kicked out of the studio until the Dr. had finished his show), recording live with the Dirtbombs (with Wily in ’01 and Liz Copeland in ’04) the place was comfy and inviting. That being said, I could never get into the mixes of the live performances…both Dirtbombs spots, the Stripes, the Go were waaaay too vocal heavy with the guitars buried. But that’s really besides the point, the fact that someone was conscious enough to capture performances by these groups is the important part.

So as I listen to Mick Collins final edition of his Night Train radio show, I learn some things…

-the first song Mick ever heard on WDET was Devo’s “Gates of Steel” in 1980.

(the Dirtbombs would later cover the song live, way before I was in the band)

-the previous time Mick had a “last” radio show (while he was still in college, I believe) he ended with Jonathan Richman’s “This Kind of Music” and he would do so again on this occasion.

-his final show would be the only time I clearly remember Mick not fucking up…playing the wrong song or having to cut one off to make the on-the-hour news. It was as if only for this show, he had reached a level of professionalism.

But that is totally not the point. I loved the Night Train because Mick was the complete opposite of professional. For me, both radio and rock and roll, (to truly be meaningful) are best left to the characters who are original, uninhibited and unlearned. Someone like Electrifyin’ Mojo or Wolfman Jack transcended disc jockey malaise and made the in-between almost as memorable as the songs, in the same way that the Stooges or Bo Diddley could wrap Rush or Candlebox (great examples, surely) into the forgettable mess that they are.

Mick told personal stories on his show and that’s what the world needs. Personal stories in relation to music is really the entire purpose of this blog. No one’s opinion is worth a damn if they do not tell you how it makes them feel. So often on the Night Train Mick would say “I had to play this song because, for some reason, it reminds me of winter.” Those are the slices of life and experience that you cannot manufacture and remind the listener that they are alive.

The Night Train was cool for so many other reasons…an entire 2-hour show dedicated to the “Back From the Grave” series, actually playing Cass releases, giving personal shout-outs to friends who wanted to hear songs, hearing a true record collecting nerd spout about it on-air (like we had a man on the inside)…all that stuff will now sorely be lacking in my life and this town in the less because of it.

Mick’s first show on WDET had a half-hour segment on Fats Domino, explained as so…
There was a news story a few years back about a guy in Texas who threatened to bomb KMCM 96.3FM after three unsuccessful requests for Fats Domino’s “Ain’t That a Shame”. As has been retold dozens of times in the Dirtbombs’ van, we all could not understand why the guy was arrested and hauled away. Me, Pat, Mick, Ko and Troy all independently of each other, replied “Why didn’t they just play the song?”

So Mick said in his first show, “Ain’t no radio stations getting blown up on my watch.”

And it was fitting that Mick chose to play some Fats as part of his final set. The man had done all he could, but the station still bombed. The train had left the station and all that was left was the rumble of the tracks.

Can You Remember Greenhornes Covers?

The best part of any Greenhornes show is the unexpected covers they pull out. Below is an extensive (but by no means complete) list of covers they've been known to rock. Feel free to add to or question the list in the comments section or request other bands covers lists (I think a Gories or White Stripes list will be forthcoming). More real writing to come soon, I promise. And I needn't tell you...but all these songs are awesome. Not a dud in the bunch. Great taste those lads.


UNRELEASED COVERS...
You Can't Judge a Book By Its Cover (Bo Diddley)
Crawdad (Bo Diddley)
When I Needed You (the Chain Reaction)
Interstellar Overdrive (Pink Floyd)
It's Off the Hook (Rolling Stones)
So Sad About Us (The Who)
Out in the Streets (the Who)
Shot Down (the Sonics)
I Can Only Give You Everything (T. Coulter)
Monkey Island (13th Floor Elevators)
Come on Back (Paul and Ritchie and the Crying Shames)
I'll Go Crazy (James Brown)
Can You See Me? (Jimi Hendrix)
You'll Never Do It Baby (the Pretty Things)
You Don't Believe Me (the Pretty Things)
Come See Me (the Pretty Things)
You're On My Mind (the Birds)
I Wanna Be Your Dog (the Stooges)
Communication Breakdown (Led Zeppelin)
Happenings Ten Years Time Ago (the Yardbirds)
Nobody But You (Little Walter)
Route 66 (Nat King Cole)
How Does it Feel to Feel? (the Creation)
My Baby Likes to Boogaloo (Don Gardner)
Sittin' on My Sofa (the Kinks)
Just Like Romeo and Juliet (the Reflections)
The Wizard (Black Sabbath)

COVERS I THINK THEY PLAYED BUT AM NOT POSITIVE...
Save My Soul (Wimple Wench)
You're Gonna Miss Me (13th Floor Elevators)

RELEASED COVERS...
Goin' to the River (Bartholomew/Domino)
High Time Baby (Spencer Davis Group)
Lost Woman (the Yardbirds)
Gonna Get Me Someone (the Game)
It's My Soul (Clifton Chenier)
Let Me Be (Daniels)
Your Body Not Your Soul (Cuby and the Blizzards)
Mary Ann with the Shakey Hands (the Who)
Inside – Looking Out (the Animals)
Wake Me, Shake Me (Al Kooper)
Sad Day (Rolling Stones)

The Ponys and the Black Lips and the Lightning Bolt Make Me Hate Standing Even More

Lightning Bolt was smartly playing early at the MOCAD. No tour-only vinyl at the merch table bummed me out, but there was a large selection of weirdo Wolf Eyes limited items. Tempting, but…

The show was everything I had expected. The duo set up on the floor with an impressive wall of amps and speakers behind them. They thrashed and the crowd frothed. There were no surprises. They did not play "Hello Morning" or "Assassins" the only two songs of theirs I would've recognized.

Should I have been in the pit with sweaty, stinky punks all rubbing up on me? Maybe that's the way to truly experience the Bolt. Nevertheless, I was completely satisfied with their performance without being overwhelmed. The show was impressive without being particularly noteworthy.

Meanwhile, back at the Magic Stick…

I didn't see enough of the Terrible Twos to say anything one way or another. I can say that I dig the band and that their "Plunderball" single is tits. They need more jams out soon.

The Black Lips were splendid. While "Oh Katrina" was sped-up to the point of losing its edge, the rest of their set was immaculate. New songs like "Bad Kids" and the one that re-appropriated the bass line of the Germs "Shut Down" were showing these good ole' boys know how to write 'em. They've yet to get worse and that's a lot less common than you'd think.

The biggest surprise for me was the crowd. Granted, I missed the last time the Lips played in town, but this crowd seemed almost the complete opposite of what I was used to seeing at their Detroit shows. There were a ton of young folks freaking out like it was the Beatles in '64. This is most likely due to their heightened visibility since inking with Vice, a questionable move at first that has found them followed by a New York Times film crew at SXSW and being interviewed for MTV News by John Norris.

So let it be said: The next Black Lips record (supposedly already recorded and set for a September release) will be huge. The current "live" album on Vice is a refresher course, a way to catch everyone up on the first 5 years of the band. Leaving "Katrina" off the disc is wise as it has the potential to be an explosive single. And with the Vice hype machine running at full-throttle, the Lips may soon all be wiping their butts with hundred dollar bills.

And did you see all the kids in striped t-shirts? Seriously there were like 15 kids running around in what seemed to be the same damn shirt. Is this the new fashion trend? Black Lips singer Cole was even wearing a surf-style breast-pocket striped tee (albeit backwards) and he said everyone is following their lead. I'm equally bummed and geeked because 1) I kinda don't want to wear my striped shirts now but 2) they still look badass and I'll probably wear 'em anyway.

I wasn't sure what to expect from the Ponys. Heard mixed opinions about their new disc Turn Out the Lights and was worried that while Brian Case's replacement of Ian Adams was smooth in the live forum, his work on tape would be too drastic a departure.

I was thoroughly wowed. While Adams pop-slant coloring made songs like "Shadowbox" and "I'm With You" smash hits in the Ponys pantheon, his exit has opened the gate for Case and Jered Gummere to volley riffery as Chicago's answer to Lee Ranaldo and Thurston Moore.

Asked to me during the Ponys' set: "Is this a Sonic Youth song? It really sounds like one." So while some may be bummed and others confused, the bend we find the Ponys on is an inspiring new direction. Big ups for taking the chance and big thanks for not fucking it up.

The Ponys are as great as they've ever been. Beginning the set with a chunk of songs all off the new record is a ballsy yet decisive move. Easy call would be to slip the unfamiliars here-and-there throughout the set and satiate the crowd with the oldies they know and want. What they did was force the crowd to absorb the new vibe right away and without relief. And when they did bring out the classics like "Let's Kill Ourselves" and the perfect encore of "I Wanna Fuck You" the crowd reaction was that much more explosive.

Am I the only one who's sick of standing up at shows? Maybe I don't wear the proper footwear, maybe the floor isn't professionally calibrated for minimal stress on the legs, but for some reason I always want to sit (or preferably, lay) down at shows and just be comfortable. I'm not sure if this is affecting my appreciation for the music or not. As uncool as it may seem, I don't give a shit. What's the point of being uncomfortable?

Lord I Love the Black Lips...

This piece was originally published in Plan B magazine last year. I wrote most of it while the Black Lips were opening for the Dirtbombs on a month-long tour out to the West Coast and through the plains of Canada. As Plan B isn't found too easily here in America, I thought I'd put it up here in anticipation of their Detroit show this Friday. Looking back, it doesn't read as well as I'd remembered. But I could really give a shit.

The Black Lips are total white trash. Find them pissing on stage with song titles like “Everybody Loves a Cocksucker” and it’s sure enough to offend even the most liberal supporters of the arts. Strangely enough, they are complete country gentlemen at the same time, all charm and grace and complete sincerity. It is a band like this, full of paradoxes and contradictions and sheer unexplainables that makes rock music exciting and dangerous and unpredictable and all those lies it has always promised us it could be.

Cole is a dead ringer for Paul McCartney on the gatefold of Sgt. Pepper’s… complete with push-broom mustache and endearing dark hair helmet. Onstage he’s like a child imitating Jimi Hendrix…all the so-called parlor tricks, playing with his teeth, lunging microphone forward with his feet, bending at the knees and extending the guitar out like an over-sized phallus screaming out fuzz from it’s urethra pickups.

Jared is the cutest of the bunch (they all kinda have those faces you just wanna make out with). Bred from a long line of prominent Southern preachers, Tammy Faye Baker used to baby-sit him and he was the main objector to the working title for Let it Bloom, a reappropriation of a Lester Bangs claim, “Last of the White Ni**ers”. The Swilley’s were big supporters of the civil rights movement in the American South, and an album with that title pretty much meant he’d never be able to talk to his family again. If you’re adventurous, search out recordings by the Swilley Family, proper country-gospel from the 60’s and 70’s that Jared describes as “not half-bad”.

Ian is the missing link. As the band’s fourth guitarist, it’s clear he’s the one who should’ve been there all along. He’s the Brian Jones in the rock solid Mick/Keef dichotomy of Cole and Jared. He’s arguable also the most skilled musician of the bunch (arguably because Joe is a classically trained pianist, but I get the feeling he likes to stay behind the drums just for the challenge.)

Ian joined the band the day before the start of a tour opening for Sky Saxon and the Seeds. Cole taught him most of the songs in the back of the van…

“This song is E, D, A,” Cole would say. And then “this song is a little different, it’s E, A, D.” All Ian could say to himself was “these guys are fucking brilliant.”

Ian is also known for the removable gold caps or “grill” he puts over his teeth. It’s such a confusing merging of dirty Southern garage rock and still tippin’ screwed up Southern hip hop that I can’t help but be enamored by the audacity and absurdity of it. Oh yeah, and he supposedly bought the grill with aid money he got after Hurricane Katrina.

But before I can get all up in arms, I hear one of the Lips latest compositions “Oh Katrina” whose entire lyrics are as follows:

Oh Katrina, why you gotta be mean?
You stole my heart way down in New Orleans
I can’t believe what I saw on the TV screen
Oh Katrina why can’t you be serene?

The song is all clumsy drums and whirling fuzz lines. It is by far the most accurate approximation of a modern day Back From the Grave-style since the Gories busted out “Drowning” in 1992. The Black Lips hope to release the song on a New Orleans label and to donate any profits from its sale to charity.

Joe is the organized one. He drives the van, deals with promoters and basically makes sure everything works as smoothly as possible. Up until not too long ago he could be found tuning Cole’s guitar in the middle of a set…if only because Cole had no idea how to do so. His drummer face looks like he’s undergoing electroshock treatment. He writes more songs and is responsible for the band’s sound more than any other drummer I’ve ever met. But he’s decidedly in the background.

The Black Lips have their roots in a high school band called the Renegades that all the current members were in at one point or another. There’s a posthumous 7” that gives you the entire unexciting stereotypical teenage punk rock riff rehash. The only relevant story about the Renegades I can pull out of them is that both Cole and Jared sprayed Binaca on their dicks and set them on fire during one performance. Cole made the mistake of covering his dick with Gak (children’s goo part Silly Putty and part calf liver) and it quickly turned into a melting mess.

And there also begins the most relayed legend about the Black Lips…their insane onstage antics find Cole vomiting, pissing into his own mouth, spitting in the air and catching it on his face and sometimes using his cock as a guitar pick. While it’s so easy to get caught up in the outrageousness of it all, more often than not this becomes the focus of people’s attention. And it’s a damn shame because there’s so much more.

Cole is the first to admit “It’s so fucking stupid,” regarding the pissing, “it’s lame and I hate it but it gets SUCH a reaction from the crowd.”

When the Black Lips get drunk at a Best Western in Denver after a 13-hour drive through a blizzard that’s essentially shutdown the state of Kansas, (and even then, only to play two songs) they’re overly excited to watch their limited-edition tour DVD. Filmed while the band was on the West Coast in 2005 recording Let it Bloom it finds them in the van and in the studio and captures all the general shenanigans one can expect from a bunch of kids in their early twenties with a never-ending supply of beer.

But there’s also a terribly heartwarming scene in the DVD that has Black Lips performing in a small apartment in San Francisco. All of the attendees are underage kids who couldn’t get into the Lips 21+ bar show. The band holler lyrics without microphones, Joe plays with towels covering his drums, and the room is packed tight with frantic teenagers reveling in the excitement and generally losing their shit. The gig seems so totally uncharacteristic of how these guys are perceived, so for them to pull it off makes me wanna crawl up and give them a collective hug, tell them they’re doing everything right, to fuckin’ forget those assholes who focus on their onstage tomfoolery, to just follow their instincts as they’ve proven to be spot on so far.

Ian, Joe, Cole and Jared all agree that it was easily the best and most fun show they ever played.

After some brew Cole and Jared are quick to name their idols…and this night would find at least these mentioned: Billy Miller and Miriam Linna both of A-Bones/Norton Records fame. Los Saicos, relatively unknown South American garage punk that the Black Lips have taken LOADS of inspiration from, Darin Raeffelli, frontman for long-forgotten nineties acts Supercharger and the Brentwoods (better known for penning songs for the Donnas) and some dude from Seattle punk-scuzzers the Spits (prominently featured in the DVD).

But all members would say that their initial infatuation with the Sixties punk sound was via Van Morrison’s Them. From there, a logical progression came about…slowly being turned onto things like the Back From the Grave compilation series on Crypt Records, an eight volume collection of pure outta tune, untalented 1960’s teen punk howling that is the most accurate blueprint of how the Black Lips came to sound the way they do.

But other styles creep in unexpectedly…songs like “Born to Be a Man” and “Make It” are good ‘ole hillbilly country style a la Buck Owens or an obscure Carl Perkins b-side on Sun. And with “Hippy Hippie Hooray”, the disarmingly brilliant cover of the Jacques Dutronc song where the decidedly austere arrangement proves these degenerates can actually transform a song and turn it into their own. And don’t forget the crowd-favorite “Dirty Hands” a Spector-ish romp that apes on the Beatles and asks, bordering on sheer dumbfounded from the narrator’s point-of-view, “Do you really want to hold my dirty hands?”

Their most recent tour ends with an unexpected spot opening for the Yeah Yeah Yeahs in the Detroit suburb of Royal Oak. The Lips boys are beyond excited and Cole’s take on the whole situation is simply, “I’m viewing this show purely as a publicity stunt.”

So the Black Lips hop on stage a half-hour after doors open and are facing a fairly empty room (capacity is roughly 4500) of a couple hundred day-glo clad suburban Karen O wannabes squished up to the front barrier plaintively waiting for Yeahs. It is still the biggest crowd they’ve ever faced.

What those hipster teenagers get is twenty minutes of pure distilled brilliance.

The Lips cut any dead weight from the set. Surprisingly, all three of the YYY’s are sitting stage right and fully taking in the spectacle. Ending the set with the quintessential Black Lips song “Freakout” finds Ian lighting a pack of Black Cats as they dangle from his mouth, only to get looks of pure horror from the unexpecting teens. He spits up some blood and then crosses the stage to lock tongues with Cole. This act of pure homophobe baiting seems to draw the most ire from the crowd. And like that the show is over. In a show of irony, self-deprecation, giving the finger or whatever you want call it, the Lips boys venture out back on stage with white towels around their necks, holding one another’s hands. And they bow. The classic arena-rock goodbye.

The YYY’s are all totally blown away…dispensing many hugs and loads of praise. Their tour manager and assorted higher-up’s from the venue are none-too-pleased. The band is immediately kicked out of the club, their gear quickly loaded outside by the union grunts. The tour manager even takes to lecturing the guys (“What made you think you could do this?” “You ever ask permission?” “Heard of a fire code?”) to which they just shrug their shoulders in a Dennis the Menace “sorry mister” sort of way. But they mean no apology.

In a fit of sheer ingenuity, the Lips sneak back into the club (by lying to security and saying they were Blood on the Wall, the other opening band) and are able to witness Karen O wear a Black Lips sticker on her chest during the entire YYY’s performance. These boys are content. Everything was worthwhile.

The Black Lips had again found themselves in front of a room of teenagers, but their performance was the complete polar opposite. And yet, it worked. The Black Lips made sense. In their world this is something to behold. The Black Lips have learned to both transcend and embrace their contradictions. It is now time for everyone else to transcend their own reservations and embrace the Black Lips.

Setlist for DJ the Dirtbombs...

Here's what I personally spun at the Belmont last night as part of the first ever "DJ the Dirtbombs" extravaganza. Pantano pulled some Lee Rogers, Happy Supply, Ike and Tina, the Miracles, Curtis Mayfield, Bush Tetras, etc. Mick showed up late and rocked some of the Prisoners, David Jones and the Lower Third and I can't remember what else. Big-ups to the free candy from the Bellyache Candyshopppe that kept me motoring all night. Check 'em out at
www.bellyachecandyshoppe.com

Everything I played was on 7" 45rpm vinyl. Anything else would be uncivilized.


Jacques Dutronc "Le Responsable" Disques Vogue
A national legend on par with Jerry Lewis in France and virtually unknown most everywhere else, Dutronc has some stone-cold fuzzed out jams. This is one of his best.

The Chain Reaction "When I Needed You" Date
Young Steven Tallarico on drums would later howl "Walk This Way" as Steven Tyler in Aerosmith. The Greenhornes do a nasty version of this.

The Johnny Otis Show "Castin' My Spell" Capitol
I only know of this song because the Gories covered it.

Captain Beefheart and His Magic Band "Diddy Wah Diddy" A&M
Old man Van Vliet swamp rocks this outta sight. I thought it was a Blind Blake song so why is songwriting credited to A. Christensen?

Patti Page "Conquest" Mercury
A massive orchestral production that sounds like it should be the soundtrack to a huge 1940's Hollywood film. You will become familiar with this shortly.

The Equals "I Can See But You Don't Know" President
These cats don't enough respect.

Pat Lewis "Love's Creeping Up On Me" Detroit Stars
Floor-filler. The dancing was outta sight.

The Moving Sidewalks "99th Floor" Wand
Pre-ZZ Top garage madness. Killer.

The Primitives "The Ostrich" Dickwick City
Lou Reed and Company ape on the Spector Wall of Sound and hilarity/genius ensues. Essential.

Question Mark and the Mysterians "Hang In" Super K
Mick stated this could very well not even be the Mysterians on this song. There's no vocals for this Kasenetz/Katz collab and it's almost too heavy to be the kids from Saginaw. But we dig it just the same.

Les Problemes "On S'en Fout" Disques Vogue
Recommended by the dude at the Juke Box Shop in Brussels. He's got a fine ear.

Doni Burdick "Candle" Soul King
But of course.

The Shaggs "Hummin" Power (Flower Power?)
The Porter/Hayes song popularized (for me) by the Reigning Sound's version on Too Much Guitar while this version borders on psych-funk. I have no idea where these Shaggs were from. Any leads?

Peaches featuring Iggy Pop "Kick It" XL
My favorite Peaches track. Iggy sounds like he's making up his lyrics on the spot.

The Troggs "Strange Movies" Pye
Matt Smith said he's been looking for this single for 20 years. He's certainly not looking hard enough.

The Yardbirds "Think About It" Epic
Was tempted to spin "Happenings Ten Years Time Ago" (or even "I'm Sick of You" by the Stooges) but Page's twisted leads on this one were too tasty to ignore.

Friends of the Diddlers and Holly Golightly and the Brokeoffs...

Lagerhouse
March 14th, 2007

Didn't know what to expect from the Diddlers. With a band banner covering the electric keyboard I was intrigued. The vocal symmetry offered by Audra Kubat and the Lucas sisters was serene. Like the song on the Oh Brother, Where Art Thou? soundtrack where they sing "Go to sleep you little baby…you and me and the devil make three" all angelic and leave you in a heavenly daze.

Individually, Audra's voice hit on more than a few Chan Marshall moments. I liked that. She also made her fair share of interesting faces in the process, me overhearing it described as "…looking for the wrong note". Loretta Lucas holds a much higher timbre and thus sounds happier. Her sister Julie falls in-between the two and all together it is refreshing.

The instrumentation was varied and in constant rotation. There was a ukulele, a washboard, a shaky maraca-type thing, a few guitars and a violin. Not to forget the aforementioned keyboard and the solid Mark Craven banjo/guitar core of it all.

They covered a Dolly Parton song and that was the highlight of their set…I just can't remember what song it was. The cover of Jimmie Rodgers' "Mule Skinner Blues" was swingin' as well. And the originals weren't too shabby either. They performed flawlessly and in front of a sizeable crowd for a Wednesday night.

I've seen Holly Golightly at least five times and every time she has a slightly different band. Surprisingly, she is the epitome of consistency. Tonight found her performing as a two-piece. Lawyer Dave (usually just her bass player on US soil) had become a veritable one-man backing band. Surrounded by a plethora of guitars he was also operating a bass drum, a snare drum, a hi-hat, a cowbell and a crash cymbal(I think?) with his feet. And he sang backup too.

His execution was anything but clunky. Lawyer Dave was as fluid and reliable as any stand-alone drummer (including usual Golightly cohort Bruce Brand) could hope to be. None of this stereotypical "kick-snare-kick-snare" one-man band lameness. I was duly impressed.

The performance itself was standard low-key Golightly fare. Her comforting vocal twang paired with deft and familiar blues guitar was charming perfection. I don't think anyone left disappointed. They showcased a few songs from the new record You Can't Buy a Gun When You're Crying (written and recorded in four days with this band configuration and a brilliant album title to boot) that's reliably consistent with the rest of her solo back catalog.

That's refreshing too. In a way, a fan can hardly criticize an artist they appreciate for doing the same thing. Consistency in any other field…selling cars, brain surgery, mowing lawns, is lauded and strived for. In music, if you make the same album twice you'll never hear the end of it. Why is this? A band would sooner get respect for regurgitating drivel that someone ELSE did first than for repeating their own earlier work. Do painters or sculptors get flak for the same thing? I'm highly curious about this whole situation.

And do the Ramones get shit or respect for having never changed? Who else is in this category?
I think the ability to create with unwavering variation should be praised. And here's hoping that Holly has a bevy of these blues ballads still burning in her belly.

Alliteration, on the other hand, is the tool of the ignorant.

Singles Column Volume Eight with Local Detroit Supplement...

Pink Mountaintops “Single Life” Jagjaguwar
Where Axis of Evol was an acoustic “play once and file away” misstep after their impeccable self-titled album rife with rockstar jamz a la Spacemen 3, what we get here is more of those sleazy, mountain fucking moments. A-side pummels with low-end bass drum drive and cheesy Suicide style organ wheedles. Flip is low-key acoustic ballad much more memorable than Axis and wanders into Alice Cooper “Dwight Fry” territory. Choice.

Car Commercials “Jar” Leaf Leaf Records
Featuring Dan from Home Blitz, “Make Me See Joanne” is spooked piano fumbling with no room for structure and sounds like someone just bought their first Jandek record. “Holland” shows some promising moments of thuggy git strum, but (though?) the drums never properly lock in. That could precisely be the point though. Flip starts with “Water” warped tape manipulation and “Rest Stop” is more Corwood Industries-worthy anti-talent. Just don’t get me started on their limited-edition lathe-cut split 78 with King Dwarves that comes with 3 bonus lathe-cut records (two of them on cardboard Coin Recordio Gram discs). That shit is intense.

Wax Museums “Claw You Like a Cat” HoZac Records
Do bands like this grow on trees? Passable punk reminiscent of Clone Defects at their speedy moments (“Cheetah Eyes” particularly). But the mix is so generic…I feel something on here should pop out at me, yet nothing does. If you’re gonna play punk like this you gotta add something new to the mixture and the Wax Museums fail to do so. B-side cover of the Vomit Pigs “Babys Playin Games” works while the sing-along chorus of “Jakoff Rat” is the highlight here. I expect something a little more distinctive from the HoZac crew.

Yellow Swans/Goslings Not Not Fun Singles Club January
Do yellow swans even exist in nature? Or would they just be swans that are soaked in their own urine? Yellow Swans track “1.” is static-heavy vocal-less noise with occasional audible bass notes. This is what urinating into a contact mic sounds like.

Goslings with “Saw-Horse” presents the same phantom fuzz build-up on your needle. My gut reaction is this is supposed to spin at 33rpm, but at 45 it makes a lot more sense. Usually the vocals are my guide as to speed choice when none’s listed, but “Saw-Horse” is perplexing in that at 33 the vocals sound proper and all the music sounds slowed down to the speed of the earth’s plate tectonic shifting. And at 45rpm, the vocals sound way too sped up, but the instruments sound logical. It’s probably a 45, but have fun playing it at 33 to decipher the vocals.

Goslings totally win as they at least had the balls to name their song and pony-up with something remotely musical.

GHQ/Ex-Cocaine Not Not Fun Singles Club February

GHQ features Pete Nolan of my infatuees Magik Markers. Sprawling atmosphero jams with what sounds like a use of bell trees. I’m curious as to how bands like this “create”, as it were. Does someone ever tell someone else in the band what they’re doing is wrong/bad/out of place? Or do they all just roll with it like Steve Winwood? This was recorded live in Seattle. I’m sure whoever was at the show will totally not even remember so because this is so forgettable.

Ex-Cocaine is a drums and drums two-piece. They win already. Dig that NNF has hipped me to some out-there shit in the world of noise percussion outfits. Does anyone have a copy of the Rhythm Chicken 7” while we’re at it? The world needs more ‘just drums’ stuff. One day I’ll release a 12” of myself playing the beat to “Scentless Apprentice” for an hour straight. Rawk.

LOCAL DETROIT SINGLES ROUND-UP!!

The W-Vibe “Hi-Bouncer” Top Quality Rock and Roll
Forgotten duo that never seemed to fit in anywhere in this town. Did you know the “W” in their name stands for the Who? True story. “Hi-Bouncer” was a live favorite…always (sometimes?) accompanied by a flurry of superballs tossed into the crowd. I don’t quite hear that on this recording. Instead, you get lo-tech ploppy synth keyboards with lyrics that are (fully) “Hi-bouncer, bouncing ball” and a song that is fairly uneventful with its campy canned electro percussion. B-side “Candy Cane” is exciting pseudo hardcore that clocks in at less than sixty seconds while “Candy Coated Laughter” recalls a low-rent version of a song you’d find as a hidden bonus track on a Beck record. Got mine for $6.99 and it’s not worth it (though if mine had the custom W-Vibe superball with it I’d be all smiles). Now if they’d have thrown in their live cover of “I Wanna Be Your Dog” then we might have something.

The Displays “Baby Just Go Away” D-wrEcked-hiT Records
Glad to finally see this thing out. Sadly, after seeing them live it feels like these recordings are light years behind what the band has evolved into. A nice and dirty early document of the band, but bet good money the next record kills. It’s adept teen garage punk without any frills. Thumbs up for bassist Andrew Hecker sporting a Dirtbombs “Blackula” t-shirt on the back cover as that image alone is worth the price of purchase.

The Sirens The Sirens are Dead Wiped-Out Records
Different versions than those featured on their More is More full-length on MuSick. “Tear Me Down” from Hedwig and the Angry Inch is cleverly reworked to reference Detroit and specifically 8 Mile Road, the ’67 Riots and everyone’s favorite mayor named Kwame. “Tumble With Me” is a Hollywood Brats/Boys cover and is pristine glamtastic gold. The flip of Bowie’s “Rock and Roll Suicide” is a song that is impossible to do injustice to.

The whole purpose behind the Sirens is just to have some fun and to look any further or deeper is to completely miss the point.

The Fondas “Make You Mine” Sympathy for the Record Industry
I prefer them on record as opposed to live and this slab sounds like their best yet. A-side is robust with its standard Kinks-ian ‘slide your hand up and down the guitar neck, repeat, lyrics about insomnia (optional), wicked solo from Dave and it’s a wrap’ style. Flip of “In Your Room” is chugging bass/drums combo that could be that long lost Parallel Lines b-side. On peachy-keen colored vinyl.

Whirlwind Heat with Lightspeed Champion Lightspeed Heat Brille

When I hear “How Do You Do” I think of the Dave Grohl solo song of the same name on the soundtrack for the movie Touch that was my reason for being for a week or two in high school. So it’s also strange that I’m somewhat reminded of the Foo Fighters (who’s debut album guitar tone is matched here, intentional or not) with this collab between the boys Heat and a member of Test Icicles.

The seductive “oooo-ooo-oooo-oooooo” (rhymes with “woo-woo-woo-woo”) alternating with the song’s title sung as a chorus provide for a truly catchy romp. This is radio-friendly to the max (supposedly charted in the UK) and is really just a song about a car breaking your heart. Genius.

B-side “My Dreams” is lullaby-ic (am I hearing their Weezer infatuation slip in here?) and it’s clear adding a guitar does wonders to the trio. The first show the Heat did as a threesome (early 2002 at the Lagerhouse) was a bit of a let-down…they were obviously still figuring it out and there was a lot of empty space that still needed to be dealt with. But they grew into a fierce unit afterwards and didn’t look back. I pulled out the WWH Free Lance demos yesterday that were recorded when they still had a guitar player. ‘Twas some noisy Contortions-like skronk going on back then. Lightspeed’s guitar here is nothing of the sort and that’s not a bad thing.

For what amounts to a fun goof-off done in a day, this single is deceptively great. Recommended.

Solid Solution “Think About it Girl” Soul-O-Sonic Records
Schlocky soul from ‘78 bordering on disco original thought to be LP-only (on Silver Spoon) but apparently 45’s do exist and are rare as me actually caring about this stuff. I do not understand how people dig this. Oh well. Fry it.

Blowout Finale...

Friday, March 9th 2007

I played it safe. Was only going to the K of C to see the Go. Caught a little bit of Outrageous Cherry. I've never been able to get into them and this night would prove no different. Can't put my finger on what I don't dig about it though. Might be Matt Smith's voice. Larry Ray (who can simultaneously be nicknamed Larry Cherry or Outrageous Larry) actually, I just wanted to say those nicknames. But they've got a song in the new Black Snake Moan soundtrack (a cover of Junior Kimbrough's "Lord Have Mercy on Me") and it's nice to see them get some recognition.

The Go were predictably great. They've got all their ducks in a row leading up to the release of Howl on the Haunted Beat You Ride and the live show remains stellar. While "Grow'd Up Wrong" was still missing from the set I have no further complaints. The pace and trajectory of their performance was proper…not so much reliance on songs from the first album as before. And the crowd seemed passionate…the kids up front singing along and lots of hands in the air. Multi-camera video crew scoping the whole thing for what I only assume is…uh, a future video? Rich Hansen slyly pulling down two Metro Times Blowout banners on the wall behind the band was funny, I'm sure it was all for the mise en scene, right? And toward the end of the set Rich getting worked up like he was gonna clock someone down in front, later relayed to me as "just knowing how to be intimidating." Sure Rich, whatever lets you sleep at night.

Saturday, March 10th, 2007

Tim Vulgar at Record Graveyard. I was really tempted to buy a 12" copy of Young MC's "Pick Up the Pace" hiding lonely in the racks. Hopefully it's still there…and that none of you are closeted Young MC fans hoping to beat me to the prize.

Timmy solo unaccompanied with a sappy Syd Barrett ballad was quite believable. Another song with the lyrics "This man needs his medicine, he needs it more than oxygen" is still memorable as I write about it days later. Was unsure what to expect of the band (Sean Elwood on bass, some kid named Ben on drums) but they decimated the place. Elwood had some kinda pedal that gave his rig a choice tone. And the kid Ben (from Indiana? Here for art school?) is a head-slamming skin-basher. Reminded me of early Dead Meadow, you know, before they got really into heroin. And also bit of Blue Cheer. Just heavy enough to put it beyond punk, weird enough to elevate it past psych and loosey-goosey where you smile a lot 'cause you know they're still just figuring it out themselves. Seeing bands at this stage, their first few shows, without a name even, is such an exciting treat. They ended the set with a (sort-of) cover of Radio Birdman's "Murder City Nights" and it shredded with wonderful feral abandon. Y'all need to check this out. I shouldn't have expected anything less…

A quick drive up Campau to the New Dodge for the Displays. I saw these kids at 1515 Broadway over the summer and it was cute. They covered "Steady, As She Goes" and were clearly nervous in trying to find themselves onstage. What I saw on Saturday was a completely different band. Punks were like seasoned pros, climbing on amps, not looking at their hands when they played, striking the rock poses, bantering with the crowd and whipping up a frenzy.

When bassist Andrew Hecker dipped into the crowd hollering "You never listen to a word I say" to subsequently thrust the mic into various audience members' faces for the refrain "come on baby just go away" it was innocently wild. Accosted by the mic, I did the only thing I think I do well and let out a vein-busting scream. I think it went over quite well. And ending the set by tossing 7" singles into the crowd (their debut release on the D-wrEcked-hiT label) is always a class act. These juvies became lethal in a matter of months and that is what's so exciting about young bands…the strides they can make in such a short time (essentially maturing onstage for everyone to see) are electrifying.

A quick hop over to the Holbrook Café for shits and giggles. I didn’t even know who was playing and was geeked to find it was Esquire. The club was jumping, allaying any fears set in motion there on Thursday. Esquire was alright…my problem with his live shows is that you never can hear the lyrics too well. The backing tracks do make up for it though, but where was the track with the Monks "Complication" sample? Ah well, "Brandy and Xanax" is bona fide and the upcoming single "Linda Lovelace for President" was fun.

Slumber Party followed and I only caught a song or two. It was what I'd come to expect from them, lazy songs mired in the melancholy vocal delivery. Not my bag, but kinda glad someone's doing it, you know?

Over to the Belmont and there's a crowd outside the door. Not a good sign. With the club at capacity (a first in any of my Blowout experiences of the past nine years) there were only letting one person in for every one person walking out. With no patience for such Fire Code tomfoolery, I recon 'round back and find both the back door to the patio and the door from the patio to the club wide-fucking-open. I'm not going to lie, I felt like motherfucking Magellan. Went back round front and tried to slyly tell Chris from the Terrible Twos and his girlfriend we could get in that way. But of course, I end up the Pied Piper of Hamlin with all these music-starved freaks in tow.

We all squeeze in with ease. Onstage, Lee Marvin Computer Arm are on fire. I'd only ever seen them twice before (once opening for Weird War at the Stick on a Sunday night, ie, not the right time or place) but tonight they proved to be possessed. I had no idea they drew such a crowd and no idea that crowd was so die-hard. It was packed and no one seemed to mind. With the opening vocal "WOOOOO-OOOOOOOOOHHH!" of "Spiritual Man" the room was enraptured. The snare drum was just low enough in the mix to free up the kick drum to propel the song. And that tangy guitar lick reminiscent of the Yardbirds "Heart Full of Soul" is sublime. The whoops and hollers that crescendo to the end of the song are riveting. They've got a self-released 7" that'll be available at their upcoming show at the Lager in April and I'm atwitter with anticipation.

It's a great feeling to end the weekend with.

Thursday Night 3-8-07 Hamsandwich Blowout

Lonely listening to Joanna Newsom "Ys" on the drive to the Knights of Columbus. The unaccompanied vocal and harp on "Sawdust and Diamonds" is pristine. Newsom's ability to weave together three distinctly separate parts in the same song hits me hard. Is this the triplet approach Dylan's rambles on about in "Chronicles"? See also "Sadie" and specifically the lines about pine cones and digging up bones. I'm a sucker for any song that begins and ends with the same lyrics and Joanna does it effortlessly and "Sawdust and Diamonds" is the perfect example.

Eons sounded like Television? Lead singer with Fender Mustang with soap-bar pick-up looked badass. Arun slammed a crash cymbal off the stand with his fist and acted like nothing happened. They sounded together…I wanna say like Tapes'n'Tapes, or at the very least that some Pitchfork pantywaist would cream his jeans over this. I was very impressed. Tunes on their myspace…not so much.

The Drinking Problem was problematic. All the vocals sounded like they were amplified through an electric razor. I enjoy Eddie more when he's drunk in the Sights. And Dave Lawson when he was barely keeping time in the Metros.

Muldoons…Shane rocked so hard that one of his earplugs flew out of his ear.

Rock and Rummage sale found copy of "Noises from the Garage" with what I believe to be the first ever review of the White Stripes "Let's Shake Hands" as well as the rest of the early Italy product. I'd been searching for this for some time. A steal at $1. Stripes review, by Brian Marshall (who supposedly swore off garage music and dedicated his life to Christianity) goes like this:

"Somewhat new (at least to me) to the no-bass segment of rock 'n' roll (you know, the Oblivians, the Hentchmen, the Revelators, Bantam Rooster, groups like that) are guitarist Jack and drummer Meg White. But while they can kick out the jams with the best of the bunch (the A-side's proof of that and a righteous tune to boot complete with Jack's shrieking vocals and lowdown guitar strummin'), they also have their softer side with a touch of the blues (the B-side, complete with a pumpin' piano). I hope there's more from these folks, cuz I definitely wanna hear it."

Over to the Holbrook Café for the Beehive Recording Showcase spectacular. Newsom's vocals soothe in the car as my headlights are terrifyingly dim. Was Mike Walker in Mule? Can we just say that he was? While "Snowcow" is the best song title I've heard all year, it was incessantly loud in the Holbrook and the fact that it was Cuckold didn't make it any better.

The scene inside was slightly discouraging. Not many people in the room, decorated like a high school dance with balloons tied to the backs of chairs situated around cafeteria-like tables. I couldn't help but wonder if there's only one inherent flaw in the Beehive prospectus…that selling downloads of fairly unknown bands is a hard thing to do. When so many acts are giving away their songs for free via Myspace, will enough people buy into the Beehive family for any of this stuff to make it to a tactile medium? I sincerely hope so as Steve Nawara has poured his heart and soul and "Danger! High Voltage" royalties into this endeavor. And this town can always use more record labels.

Missed Chrome Spiders. Was told they sounded like AC/DC.

The Moonlight were surprisingly great. If Dale Merril can learn to tune his guitar then their "Ponys without the depression skids" sound should win over many. The last thing I'd expect a band with two guys from the Dirtys to sound like.

I had the opportunity to go play dodgeball at my dad's middle school gym class on Friday morning. It was in the back of my mind the entire night as there came an emptiness in my life once dodgeball exited. But the hypotheticals overcame…would I be of sound physical and mental acumen to relive the past glories of my dodgeball days? Would I make a fool of myself? What would I think as a middle schooler playing in gym class against some longhair in his mid-twenties? Do I still have the wicked playground ball curve that I prided myself on in my tweens?

I woke up around 10am, early enough for me to assail a handful of deserving 6th graders. But I collapsed back to rest. The night at Holbrook ended with Eddie Baranek and I literally butting heads, not seeing each other while we leaned in towards the same direction. We both laughed it off hard, but I think he ended up with a bruise on his head and I felt somewhat guilty as I was the sober one and should be a little more aware. I couldn't be held responsible if I broke some kid's leg. And I was almost certain I could do so with a properly placed toss.

My reflexes were not ready and I'd already spent my entire night dodging…table to table, room to room, club to club, Steve-O to Steve-O…perhaps some other time I'll be ready to unleash the assault. This day, I was merely content with having survived.

Lessons I Hardly Learned at the Hamtramck Blowout...

I can't say I can ever remember being excited about any of the Blowouts. 1998 had an amazing line-up with the White Stripes and Dirtbombs and Wildbunch on the same bill at Lili's. I was too young to even try that one. The next year I saw an early as hell Soledad Brothers gig, 2*Tabernacle's last show, the Go at Motor (all on the same night) and the White Stripes "rumored" last show followed by the Hentchmen's last show before their first extended hiatus. But I don't remember much leading up to that…certainly nothing that got me excited.

After quick sets by the Kicks (unreleased Eddie Baranek and Richard Panic side-project) at Cloud Nine(?) and the Sights (all donning heavy metal band t-shirts) at Lily's, the Go played to a packed crowd at Paycheck's in 2000. Just back from an extensive US tour, consensus was they bombed. The only band I've seen come back from tour worse than when they'd left. A long, drawn-out jam by the name of "Let's Get High" was particularly arduous, but Bobby was sporting a belt-buckle the size of a dinner plate. That was impressive. Am I imagining the pre-Whatcha Doin jam "Black-Eyed Susan" with Bobby's harmonica wailings or did they actually play that one too?

I believe the Hentchmen were supposed to play the next night. But I got a kidney stone and spent the evening in the hospital, still keeping my pink wristband on until long past 2am, thinking by some miracle I'd be cured and still be able to catch the last act.

And after that I don't remember much. A show here or there every year, but nothing wholly exciting. This year has been a first with bands I wanna see all four nights. It's amazing. Wonderful even.

Wednesday night: As soon as I wrapped and clicked the silver band on my right wrist I immediately knew it was painfully too tight. I am an idiot. And I still got three more days I have to keep this sucker on. Does the Metro Times hate its fans?

Great Lakes Myth Society has a great name and nothing more going for them. Ignorable at best, the two songs of theirs I caught were a complete waste of my time. It was better spent absorbing the plethora of corporate advertising…a Scion parked inside the Majestic (I knew spots were hard to find on the street, but this seemed ridiculous), only Molson beer available at the bar, Guitar Center guitar picks littering the place, all being covered by a handful of cameramen from various local news organizations…the Detroit scene has finally got people paying attention and corporations paying to sponsor. Just wish we something more worth sponsoring to offer them.


The Hard Lessons are such difficult band to decipher. Their "We're the Hard Lessons and this is rock and roll" intro was just the beginning of a set replete with repeated, choreographed stage moves and hackneyed rock and roll cliché. The phrase "GGBB" gets bandied about a lot by anyone who's done their share of time touring and the Hard Lessons are the epitome of GGBB. It means 'good guys, bad band'.

Or as someone mentioned to me at the Majestic that night "They're the greatest mediocre band you'll ever see."

The songs are a consistent rehash of familiar chord changes and tired lyrical retread. Where it seems their inspiration is the explosive rock of the Who or MC5, what they provide in bravado (in comparison to those legends) ultimately comes up lacking. The MC5 and the Who both injected an artistic dose of zing (the Who's mod toggery and the Five's 'dope, guns, fucking in the streets') that gave those recycled blues riffs a new life whereas the Hard Lessons wear vacuous black and white on stage and have dumbed down their songs to the simplest, basest form. They offer nothing new to the mixture. And this has (probably) led to their success,

The Hard Lessons draw huge fervent crowds and can get them singing and clapping along with the greatest of ease. But the band's performance feels uninspired and insincere…an act of going through the motions and posturing. Their crowds eat it up, but I can't believe the Hard Lessons when they're onstage.

From the opening lyrics of their album Gasoline along the lines of "I saw you with that other girl" it feels like its not words coming from personal experience, but words coming from years of listening to artists who have written about their personal experiences. Or their set-closing cover of Neil Young's "Hey Hey, My My"…while I can assume that they (the Hard Lessons) believe what they're saying, I am still left unconvinced and rolling my eyes.

Anyone in town whose musical opinion I honestly and truly trust echoes my sentiments. Lots of people in bands. Lots of people who've been around for a while. Lots of people who wouldn't dare let me mention their names here.

And I don't think the lack of Hard Lessons appreciation among this group is sour grapes or jealousy or anything with nefarious origins. The increased success of bands like the White Stripes, Detroit Cobras, Electric Six and any other local band that was around eight years ago who can now headline tours all over the world has left us with a live local music vacuum.

Where these great bands used to hit a local stage as much as once a month in their heyday, they're now (smartly) limiting themselves to as few as one or two performances in town per album. That leaves local music fans with a thirst to be quenched. And more and more, bands with less and less to offer are taking that on.

So seven years ago, in the pre-White Blood Cells salad days, you could see the White Stripes at the Magic Bag, the Magic Stick and the Gold Dollar all within a few months of each other. The bands performing with that amount of frequency at clubs of that intimacy now are nowhere near the caliber they used to be. When the Hard Lessons said from the stage that their performance would be their last in Michigan in six or seven weeks, I was left to wonder where the significance in the statement lies. THERE IS NO BAND IN DETROIT THAT SHOULD PLAY MORE THAN ONCE A MONTH. AND 90% OF THE BANDS DO NOT HAVE THE CHARISMA OR REASON TO PLAY MORE THAN ONCE EVERY THREE MONTHS.

That being said, Detroit has a history of great hometown bands that have played way too frequently. Many a story has been relayed to me by old-timers about how they would show up late to the Grande Ballroom on purpose to MISS the MC5. Take a look at the old handbills…the MC5 opened every other motherfucking show at that place. And from the (lack of breadth) of their song catalog you can sure as hell figure they were playing the same batch of songs over and over and over again. People were sick of 'em. I've heard similar rumblings about the Stooges, they being avoided because onstage they were SOOO hit-or-miss. And as near-and-dear the Gories are to my heart, my collection of flyers shows they were pretty omnipresent in this town circa 1987-91. And the Gories themselves will be the first to tell you how hated they were in town. And also how bad they were. The fact that Mick's original suggestion for naming the band the Horribles wasn't just clever, it was presciently spot-on.

But the Hard Lessons have worked. Hard. They refuse to be apologetic. They've toured endlessly, given up jobs and sunk tons of their own money into this endeavor. They clearly want to be rock stars and I do not begrudge them that one bit. Detroit is full of bands who lack confidence and are unwilling to take a chance. The Hard Lessons are the one shining example of how to break from that paralyzing curse.

They do seem not to have a band superego. I get the impression they do not say "no" to anything. And maybe that's the secret to their success…the 'there's no gig too small' kind of attitude. But rock and roll, as I've gleaned from the Hard Lessons, seems to be about simultaneously blurring and widening the gap between the band and the audience. Never before have I seen a band connect to their crowd on such an intrinsic level and yet personally felt so detached from what was happening onstage. The Hard Lessons are like a second-hand historical document, removed enough from their initial inspirations that the soul and ingenuity contained therein has been sanitized and condensed into Rock and Roll Refresher Course 101.

I think the Hard Lessons will continue to do well for themselves. Their work ethic alone should be an example to us all. They may even sell millions of records. For those who'd argue that'd be a sign of their artistic merit, of a rocking Detroit band who can play the game and get their own little slice of pie outside of the spokes of this town I will point you to thousands of dollar bins across the country brimming with copies of Rotting Pinata.

And this is not an attack. Augie, Korin and Christoph are the sweetest, most kind people you will ever meet. That's why I believe it's been so long for a proper dissection of their band to come about. In the post Stollsteimer/White altercation world, the whole town seems to be on eggshells trying not to disrupt the status quo. It seems typical to smile in someone's face and then turnaround and espouse about how bad their band is. Fact is, turning a blind eye to a band or paying them lip-service does no one any good. I think it'd do everyone a whole lot of good if honesty and straightforwardness became the new hip thing in Detroit

I believe a lot of people are scared to be frank for fear of how others will be honest in return. Too few a people in town are comfortable enough with how their own band is/was/will be to genuinely give others their honest opinion. I know a lot of the old guard of Gold Dollar alumni have been less and less into the Dirtbombs in the past few years. It's clear just by seeing who comes up to our shows. And I do not take it personally. But if I asked them face-to-face what they thought of the Dirtbombs, nine times out of ten I'd get bullshit. And that itself is bullshit.

What I'm saying is this: for a music scene in a city this size, with such a vacant, population in the throws of poverty, everyone needs to wholeheartedly and actively support the bands that they cherish. It's too easy to be a passive fan and we are all guilty of that. There almost seems to be a level of pride associated with how detached one can be while still being "inside." Shit like "I haven't seen the Electric Six since Joe and Steve and Anthony quit" or "The last Dirtbombs record I bought was 'Ultraglide.'"

I understand that a lot of this crowd has gotten older. A lot of the players have had to grow-up, get jobs and live like adults. And this has resulted in a lot of cop-outs. So what if you can't pound the Stroh's like you used to? It doesn't mean you can't check out a gig on a weeknight. Try watching bands without drinking…maybe then you'll realize what's actually been going on all this time.

Adult. followed the Hard Lessons. I think I started to see them live at precisely the wrong time in their career, right before Anxiety Always came out and right when they started shying away from the demonstrable classics of Resuscitation. As they've returned to performing as a duo, they've got the experimentation of D.U.M.E. behind them and promise to be more focused on Why Bother?

"Dispassionate Furniture" stood out as a slightly intelligible shell of it's recorded self. The best comment I heard all night was that there should be subtitles for Adult. The mix in the room was questionable the entire night. The Majestic is a weird room to begin with. But Nikola's vocals were practically indecipherable the entire time.

A brief respite in the Garden Bowl during a Dorkwave DJ set left me non-plussed. Throw on a bunch of Eighties hits…"Little Red Corvette", "Holiday" by Madonna, "Groove is in the Heart" by Dee-Lite and getting hipster indie kids to dance is like shooting water in a barrel. How does Dorkwave get so much press and praise? It's not like they've reinvented the wheel. Or even done something that any halfway-decent iPod on shuffle couldn't take care of itself. Is anyone else in town doing anything remotely similar to this? Or are there just too many lazy people with better record collections sitting back and criticizing how they could do so much better? Myself included.

Then again, this is all just my opinion. I could be wrong.

Singles Column Volume Seven...

The Covingtons I Hate You Baby Sound Camera Records
Contemporaries of the Gories who’ve just now released a limited (300 copies) single. Typical 80’s garage performances with the song somewhat Stooge-like I Hate You Baby making both a studio and “live” appearance on this single. Cover of the standard No Friend of Mine is overdriven to the point of sounding like a Sub Pop record of the era. The insert, complete with photos and flyer repros, is the most worthwhile thing here. Lots of stories and interviews and a cliffhanger leaving us aching for volume 2.

Lord Galvar/Swimsuit Rights split single, Brittle Records
Uh, I forget why I ordered this. I think I read a descrip of Galvar that seemed interesting. This is hand-numbered in marker #6/30. Limited sleeve? I don’t know. Lord Galvar is reminiscent of Liars They Were Wrong…-era without the inspiration. But I’ve heard it all before. Female vocals? I could give a shit. This is what happens when I wait months before listening to records I mail-order. The first of Swimsuit’s two tracks is quick and forgettable, but the second song…Sad Walk (for Dave) grabs me…noisy, lo-fi with insistent bass, mangled keyboard and feedback for the masses.

The Retainers/Fashionable Idiots split single, Fashionable Idiots Records(?)
Spray-paint stenciled sleeve. Awesome. Shredding competent punk rock. Why haven’t I heard more about the Retainers? Seems like everyone could get into this. Accessible? Sure, why not? The FI song Blue Jean Attack is a certifiable instrumental classic, equal parts superhero theme song and solid Sixties dance beat. Both sides are loud as shit. Recommended.

Standing Nudes When I Arrive True Panther Sounds
A-side is like an effects-ridden Sonic Youth ballad with the femme vox of Saturday Looks Good to Me. Got this single approximately one month after I mail-ordered it, but they threw in a copy of the Strip Mall Seizures CD, I’m assuming as a “sorry”. The flip is boring four-chord wonder until the wah-wah solo peeks its head through the placenta of complacency. If this is their first release we can expect good things from them. If they’ve been at it awhile…it’s time they re-evaluate their life decisions.

The Saboteurs Cement Feet Commodity Fetish Records
The Saboteurs DIY Going Underground Records
These are not 7” releases by the Raconteurs in Australia. Left Coast guitar/vox/drums that sounds like kids goofing off in the garage and coming up with some pretty interesting shit. Lyrics like “Whatever happened to rad people, doing rad things, for rad reasons.” I’m assuming the lack of a question mark has some significance? The Commodity Fetish single comes with an insert with a reading list. Uh, no thanks. I stopped reading when I dropped out of college THANK YOU! T
The GUR single (numbered 23/150 if anyone out there is compiling a database) misses the joie de vivre of Commodity Fetish jams.

Sparks Dick Around In the Red
Dick Around is the best mini-opera of the modern era. The radio edit trims minutes off the running time and remains faithful to the original. B-side Hospitality on Parade recorded live at the Avalon in LA. I can’t believe these guys are label mates with the Dirtbombs.

Samuel L. Jackson Stackolee Paramount Vantage
A surprise freebie from the pressing plant. These are the actual performances from the “Black Snake Moan” movie…I guess. Stackolee is a blue version more-suited to the lascivious Andre Williams vocal style with Blues Hammer slide geetar wailing. The song Black Snake Moan is lonely log cabin confessional with rain pitter-patter background rhythm and rauncy Fat Possum fat git tone. Samuel L. has got some pretty mighty pipes here. I’m impressed.

Black Lips/Demon’s Claws Rolling Stones Tribute Series, Norton Records
The Lips do What to Do and their country efforts are their least impressive. Still, it’s better than any single band in the country today. Demon’s Claws version of Factory Girl is subdued and suited well. The pan flute or whatever woodwind it is spices things up in a reverential way.
When Norton finally puts all these Stones covers on a CD it will prove to be mighty killer. The 5.6.7.8’s, Greenhornes, Hentchmen, Reigning Sound…pretty much all the essential garage bands you can think of. Another Norton coup.

The Sonics Busy Body Norton Records
Recorded live in Tacoma 1964. Plain and simple, this cooks. While I’m not terribly on top of the Sonics back catalog, I believe this is the first testament to their stage performance and we can safely assume they decimated most crowds that came before them. The Witch on the B-side has vocals a tad low in the mix, but that’s the only criticism worth leveling on this heavenly slab. Do you know how hard Bob Bennett grooves on the skins? Listen here for the answer. Essential, but you already knew that.