More Items I Didn't Win on eBay...

	Detroit Garage-Nick & Jaguars-Ich-I Bon-45 RPM Acetate
	$73.52	$56.66
	The Units - Ready for the House LP - Jandek
	$106.50	$99.99
	SONIC YOUTH 2 x lp SONIC MANIA / WHAT MAKES YOU rare..
	$51.09	$25.55
	Jarvis Street Revue Mr Oil Man Orig Canadian Psych LP
	$112.50	$79.77
	Magik Markers - For Sada Jane LP Wolf Eyes Hair Police
	$23.73	$16.66
	Oblivians demo Goner Reigning SFTRI garage lofi Memphis
	$113.61	$25.55
	OHIO Garage 45-THE PURPLE PERSIANS-I Heard The Word
	$21.61	$15.55
	McSweeney's 6: Dave Eggers, TMBG, etc. [McSweeneys OOP]
	$34.15	$25.55
	BECK 7' Single PAY NO MIND / SPECIAL PEOPLE
	GBP 56.55	GBP 55.55

So it's pretty self-explanatory...the lower number is my maximum bid. The higher digits the actual selling price. By item...

Nick and the Jaguars: From the Old and Gold radio archives, this is quite possibly the copy that the Gories heard on the radio, made a cassette copy of and then learned from for their cover of "Ich-I-Bon #1" Not too sad I lost as a VG copy of a questionable record (I've heard numerous cautionary tales about questionable acetates going around in Michigan awhile back) isn't too desirable to me, especially when I already have a stock copy.

The Units: I keep losing on LP copies of the first Jandek record. At least the 3rd copy I've big on and lost. This was a radio station copy with something like "WPGU rox" written on the cover. That I don't mind. I probably should've bid at least another $30. I still want this. Damn.

Sonic Youth: I'd never heard of or seen either of these two LP's before. Bootlegs, but good and rare ones at that. Probably would only listen to them once though.

Jarvis Street Revue: A pretty beat-up copy of this record, both sleeve and vinyl. As it usually goes for $500 and I've never spent anything near that for an LP, this was probably the best chance I would get for an original. Not too shaken up as limited repress on green vinyl with a bonus 7" can be had for around $30. I'm all about the bonus 7". I highly recommend picking up a copy of the CD reissue of this. Canuck punks from Thunder Bay environmentally aware before it was mainstream. And killer flowing psych jams to boot. Check out "20 Years"...
http://www.sendspace.com/file/ve9tsj

Magik Markers: The constant eBay cock-tease. I can't win their records to save my life. For all these modern noise bands that release scads on cassette and cd-r I like to make sure I have all their proper vinyl releases. Still yet to grab one of these suckers. The album itself is somewhat of a departure from their usual ear-drum bludgeoning. A lullaby...almost. I'm sure I'll get this sooner or later.

Oblivians: Long-shot. Never even thought I had a chance. First release from one of the greatest of the Nineties. Already have all the track on the "On the Go" LP. Am a sucker for band's first releases though.

Purple Persians: Only recently brought to my attention, there's still just so much 60's garage that I haven't even heard yet. This band is supposedly a two-piece and I even think they were husband and wife? Check it out as it's pretty whacked in a "what were they thinking?" sort of way.
http://www.sendspace.com/file/5rz8xe
(please download this as it took me 45 minutes to figure out how to get it there)

McSweeneys: My record collecting compulsion has drifted over to the literary world. I'm still missing a handful of issues of McSweeneys. They're always on eBay. I'm not too worried. I just want to read them. I could give two shits about the They Might Be Giants CD included with issue 6. Favorite issue? The hoaxes of #8, the brilliance of #9 and the 20 minute stories of #12 are all so close to my heart. I'm sure you've already seen it, but also check out...
www.mcsweeneys.net
(it only took 4 seconds for that one, but you can easily spend 45 minutes at the site)

Beck: This one hurt the most. I've been looking for a copy since I first learned it existed in November. This was the first one on eBay since that time. I thought I had it wrapped up. Quite possibly the top of my wants list next to the Compulsive Gamblers 7" that I haven't cared too much about in awhile. Some prick has one listed in his eBay store for $360. I offered him $120 for it and he asked for $150. Kinda regretting not taking him up on that. Anyone got one they're willing to trade?

Feel free to post your own recent losses in the comments section. We can commiserate together.

Crowded Lager House Ramblings...

The Go/The Muldoons/Mountains and Rainbows
February 23rd, 2007
The Lager House, Detroit


Mountains and Rainbows were equally insane and deliberate. Recalling 60's wildmen like the Driving Stupid or the 13th Floor Elevators it was a haphazard mess of fuzz and clunky drums and falsetto vocals. With 3/4 of the members from Tyvek it must be said they have NOTHING in common with those intuitive home insulators. Mountains and Rainbows stand alone in this town, probably this country, almost certainly this world.

The vibe from the stage was anomalous…totally smart and cognizant as well as clueless and lost in their own world of confusion.

The jam Indian with saxophone fed through a delay (what sounded like someone who actually has some sax training as opposed to the current norm of uninformed wailing) was harsh. It was followed by moving Back From the Grave-inspired fuzz number, the most "together" MAR sounded the entire night and yet still quite fractured.

After those two songs, I was so close to walking up to the stage, getting guitarist Heath's attention just to ask him if I could release those two songs on a 7". I just didn't want to risk the chance that someone else would ask them first. I patiently waited until after they left the stage and asked Matt Z instead. He said yes. I cannot wait.

The tune Lester is Coming? is quite possibly in reference to Bangs' prediction of an amazing band in the vein of Mountains and Rainbows in "Psychotic Reactions and Carburetor Dung" a claim about a band from somewhere in the Rust Belt coming along with primal urge and primitive allure. This claim has, in the past, been attributed as the Gories birthright, but I think it's safe to let MAR join in the histrionics. I'm too lazy to dig up the exact quote now, but rest assured, it's somewhere in that book.

The set had a perfect arc, ending with Christo (not named after the fabric wrapping artist, but a childhood friend of the singer Matt Z) a song that has something to do with fiddle-faddle, a curious snack food that's more common in the Southern states. That song ended with the same chordal volume knob fade-in, fade-out that the set started with. From the Raconteurs with Hands, the Mooney Suzuki with And Begin and even the Von Bondies with It Came From Japan I've always been sucker for a band that opened AND closed with the same song.

The Muldoons continued their virtual ownership of the Lager House stage with another blasting performance. They played all the usual hits. The new cut probably named something like Fire in the House is TV Eye meets Rocket 455 juiced up on roids. They simply deliver. Can I call them the first family of rock? Ma gave me dvd of the MC5 documentary. That is awesome. Hunt's guitar hit brutal volume levels mid-set. His low end was nice and fat like T. Rex's 20th Century Boy. If you don't already have their jams, now's the time for you to catch up before you get left behind like a loser.

With the production on Whatcha Doin so divisive, the live arena for songs from that album has always been preferred. So the inclusion of Whatcha Doin, Meet Me at the Movies and Keep on Trash in the set clearly provided the best crowd reaction. But then again, I remember talking to people who didn't live in Detroit about the Go and the consensus always seemed to be that the first album was STUPENDOUS and that the live show was retching. Everyone has an opinion about Whatcha Doin and the Go yet no one will ever get it right. Krautner is singing more than ever and it's silky. A few too many slow songs in towards the middle was a questionable call. So was the absence of Growed Up Wrong from the set. Matt Smith regarding Summers Gonna Be My Girl said "this is the only song that sounds like Can and Steppenwolf" In the world? Tonight? Ever? Please, give me some qualifiers here.

Detroit's doyenne Shelby Murphy and the not-far-behind Aran Ruth stormed the stage dancing and for a brief moment it was as if we were at Motor during the Hamtramck Blowout of '99. You've all seen the pictures, heard the legends, that Christ himself took on human form for that brief set to witness the sheer ferocity and unhinged energy that night. Will they ever top that moment? With all the girls in attendance dressed to the nines and the room crowded and smoky as hell, the palpable furor in the air, I thought they came damn close. You Go Bangin On, So Long Johnny and Help You Out are solid new jams that are already making Howl on the Haunted Beat You Ride a full-length with diverse ambitions. A local band that still draws what seems to be the same people to its shows as it did 8 years ago? Don't know if that can be said about anyone else. Good to have you back.

"I Fucked Up Types of Wood"...

The Whirlwind Heat has yet to do wrong in my book. Their latest release is sly, self-referential and totally snarky only in that inimitable Heat way.


"I Fucked UP Types of Wood" is an acoustic redux version of their album "Types of Wood". With the skilled production and electro Moog whizzing all over that record, it'd be hard to predict what to expect and even harder to discern whether it'd even be worthwhile.

But the only thing that stays the same here are the lyrics. Everything else...chords, melodies, tempo, etc is all changed. It's essentially a new WWH album. And a damn fine one at that.

Where "I Fucked Up Reagan" was a fitting b-side for it's non-fucked up namesake, ALL these other tunes are killer diller. "I Fucked Up Uptight" calls on the ballad-fried tenderness that the album version ignores for funky backbeat. "I Fucked Up My Electric Underwear" is spaghetti waste-ern with galloping sound affects and gunfire and rebel yells a la "arriba!"

If at all familiar with "Types of Wood" the fucked up version is a must. Because it totally recontextualizes it's brilliance in an original and unexpected way. And if I had to guess, it was done in a day with these guys bored and goofing around in GarageBand. Almost (big almost) as stealth as their one day stroke of genius recording of the mini-Lp "Flamingo Honey" which is one of the most criminally underrated records of my lifetime.

The whole thing recalls the acoustix of Beck and a smidge of Johnny Cash...especially on album opener "I Fucked Up Air Miami" with it's dusty saloon shoot up blooze that'd rile up all the white collars at Folsom. And the whole thing is download-only. Activate them iTunes accounts and shell out the bux for these cats. You'll be the wiser because of it.

Albums to Play Me If I'm in a Coma...

This is something everyone should have. Forget a "do not resuscitate" order or a notarized will and testament…what are the jams you want to hear if you end up in a coma? I think it needs to be said that this is not a list of my favorite albums or the greatest albums of all time. This is comfort music.

So here, with all the legality and authority a document posted to a website can be given, I list the records I want played to me shall I enter coma-hood.

1. The Walkmen Bows and Arrows
2. Nick Drake Pink Moon
3. The Stooges Funhouse
4. That Dog Totally Crushed Out
5. Sonic Youth NYC Ghosts and Flowers
6. Nirvana Unplugged in New York
7. Kelley Stoltz Below the Branches
8. The Velvet Underground and Nico
9. Back From the Grave Volume 1
10. The Ramones

I guess what I’m looking for in coma tunes is a bit of familiarity. Albums that I know backward and forward. Plus, I’m imagining I’d like to hear stuff that’s a little softer, but not too soft that it’d turn my brain into wine cooler lameness. So whereas it’s obvious that In Utero is the my favorite Nirvana album and their best release, I think I’d rather just mellow out a bit to Unplugged, you know? Jeez, I’m in a coma, it’s not the time to be thrashing to “Scentless Apprentice” asshole.

Conversely, the Ramones and BFTG are just undeniable, such building blocks in my existence that their repetition upon my unconscious self could quite possibly knock me back into a cognitive state. And with this list, I encourage all three of you reading here to let your loved ones know what you want on the stereo should you take that spill down the stairs. Post your own lists in the comments and let this be the opening of a dialogue. Because nothing, NOTHING can be worse than some random dude you went to grade school with and haven’t talked to in years sitting in your hospital room remembering how much you liked that Collective Soul song that one summer and that maybe repeated plays of “Shine” just might turn things around. Idiots.

I Had to Fill Out This Survey...

For one of my freelancing gigs where a new editor took over. Dig.

Last five albums bought
The Trees Community “The Christ Tree”
Favourite Sons “Down Beside Your Beauty”
Whirlwind “I Fucked Up Types of Wood”
Barrabarracude “Abasement Tapes”
Sonic Youth “The Destroyed Room”

Last five shows/concerts attended
The Muldoons
? and the Mysterians
Human Eye/Odu Afrobeat Orchestra
The Sights
Dan Sartain/Valiant Thor/Gogol Bordello


Five all-time favorite albums (today, at least)
The Stooges “Funhouse”
Nirvana “In Utero”
Back From the Grave volume one
The Gories “Outta Here”
Velvet Underground “White Light/White Heat”

Dead musician you’d most like to have seen perform
Robert Johnson

Dead musician you’d most like to have dinner with
Karen Carpenter

Favorite music website or blog
www.detailedtwang.blogspot.com

Choose one:
I like listening to music at home with headphones or at the show with a beer? At a show with headphones.

At a concert, I like being up front yelling or in back critiquing? Back critiquing.


Rhythm or melody? In the beginning, there was rhythm.

Lover or hater? Lover.

Fill in the blank:

The Internet has _________ music journalism. (leveled)

Blender magazine is __________. (paying writers a ton per word)

Mojo magazine is __________. (Not as good as Plan B Magazine)

The worst musical offense I know if is ____________. (the empty gesture)

I feel _________ about the Van Halen reunion with David Lee Roth. (Nothing)

Do you have a guilty pleasure?
No.

Why do you write about music?
It is the most logical extension of truly loving music.

What's In Your Jukebox?

(Hold your computer next to a mirror to see what these pictures REALLY look like)


I got a jukebox for Christmas a few years back. The 1960's Seeburg is both a blessing and a curse. There's no better way to listen to 7" singles in rapid succession. Yet upkeep on these beasts is intensive. Of the handful of friends I know in Detroit with jukeboxes, I can't think of any that are currently in working order. The worst part is the only jukebox repairman in town who'll make house calls is kind of a douche who's reminded every single one of us that he once worked on Jack White's jukebox.

My particular model plays small hole 45's at 33rpm and big holes at 45rpm. That was the original reason for the creation of small hole 45's...extended play jukebox records. So some records I'd like to have on there are kept-off because of their hole-status. But bonus such as seven Misfits songs on one single more than make-up for any disappointment. And if I'm really audacious, there's a few shady individuals I know who'll knock out the center hole for a price.
I must admit that when I fired the sucker up for the photos I had this unfounded hope that having not turned the juke on for over a year it may have somehow fixed itself. I always think this about electronic devices...that if I ignore something that's broken long enough it will learn to fix itself in hopes of pleasing me. I need help. Here's a run-down of what's on my box...

100 The Beach Boys Good Vibrations b/w Wouldn’t It Be Nice
The scene in "Roger and Me" where the laid-off auto-worker describes Wouldn't It Be Nice triggering his nervous breakdown is heartbreakingly beautiful.

101 The Mooney Suzuki Hey Joe b/w 7 and 7 Is

102 The Cyril Lords No More Good Times b/w Where Do Girls Go?

103 Blanche Who’s to Say b/w Superstition

104 Tin Knocker Distracted b/w Build a Garage
All Cass releases are slotted according to their catalog number. Muldoon had to drill the center-hole out of two Tin Knocker singles before he got it just right.

105 The Swamp Rats Psycho b/w Louie Louie

106 Sagger Black Market Body Parts b/w Satyrs Make Martys

107 Love Little Red Book b/w Alone Again Or

108 The Alarm Clocks Yeah b/w No Reason to Complain

109 Dirtbombs/White Stripes Cedar Point ‘76 b/w Handsprings

110 The Black Lips Freakout, Sweet Kin b/w Steps, Fad, I’ve Got a Knife

111 The White Stripes Let’s Shake Hands b/w Look Me Over Closely
In all the years I've had a jukebox, this single has always been on it, formerly at the coveted #100 slot. Easily the most-played song on here.

112 Adult. Suck the Air b/w High Heels on Tile Floors

113 Clone Defects Bottled Woman b/w Cheetah Eyes
Another that's been on here since the beginning.

114 The Yardbirds Shapes of Things b/w I’m Not Talking

115 Bob Seger Syster 2+2=? b/w Death Row

116 The Keggs Girl b/w To Find Out
Repress. Like I'd toss the original on here.

117 The Pretty Things You Don’t Believe Me, Buzz the Jerk b/w You’ll Never Do It Baby, Come See Me
You'll Never Do It Baby came on one day and I proceeded to dance up a storm with my only intention being to make my sister laugh. This single has since become the #1 go-to if looking to start a dance party in this house.

118 Elvis Presley That’s Alright Mama b/w Blue Moon of Kentucky
Repress on RCA. Will trade for original on Sun.

119 Television Little Johnny Jewel pt. 1 b/w Little Johnny Jewel pt. 2
If ever a bassline were to run through my head eternal, this would be it.

120 The Starlite Desperation Our Product b/w …It Rhymes with Bitch

121 The Kinks You Really Got Me b/w It’s All Right

122 The Greenhornes I Won’t Take it Anymore b/w Lost Woman

123 Pavement Stereo b/w Embassy Row
One of the few "For Jukeboxes Only!" singles that actually fulfills its decree.


124 The Sonics Strychnine b/w Shot Down
Thank Lord for Norton Records and their Jukebox Series. Put this in because I became familiar with the Greenhornes shredding live cover of Shot Down.

125 The Mystery Girls Turned On, Tuning In b/w Everbody’s Talking, Killing Floor

126 The Hives Walk Idiot, Walk b/w Genepool Convulsions
The most current release on here. So I guess that means I haven't had this working since 2004. Sad.

127 J. J. Fad Supersonic b/w Instrumental

128 The Mooney Suzuki Turn My Blue Sky Black , Babies in the Cradle b/w Your Love is a Gentle Whip
Self-released version.

129 Beck It’s All in Your Mind b/w Feather in Your Cap, Whiskey Can-Can
Somewhere between this version and the one that appears on Sea Change, Beck did a stellar live acoustic version of ...Mind that usurps either or his others. I have that on a cassette bootleg.

130 The Sonics Cinderella b/w He’s Waitin'

131 Eric B. and Rakim Microphone Fiend b/w Microphone Fiend (Long)
I only know of this song because of Rage Against the Machine's cover of it. Wish more late-Eighties hip-hop made it onto 7".

132 Depeche Mode Just Can’t Get Enough b/w Just Can’t Get Enough

133 Adult./Dirtbombs Pray for Pills b/w Lost Love

134 The Rolling Stones I Wanna Be Your Man b/w Not Fade Away
Not Fade Away always makes me bust out into a weird half-Iggy, half-Bo Diddley hambone air maraca shake. Needs to be seen to be believed.
135 The Kinks Tired of Waiting for You b/w Come On Now
My favorite single by my favorite jukebox band. Well represented here, the Kinks did more undeniable two-siders than any other Sixties rock band. Go ahead, try and argue.

136 MC5 I Can Only Give You Everything b/w One of the Guys
Original copy on AMG that is beat-to-shit but plays without a skip. An eBay steal at $37.

137 MC5 Looking at You b/w Tonight
Perfunctory.

138 Machine There But For the Grace of God b/w Get Your Body Ready
Totally amazing and totally different from the Gories cover.

139 The Oblivians Motorcycle Leather Boy, Love Killed My Brain b/w Blew My Cool, Song Inside
Blew My Cool is the Oblivians at their best.

140 The Animals A Girl Named Sandoz b/w When I Was Young

141 Thirteenth Floor Elevators You’re Gonna Miss Me b/w Tried To Hide
My national anthem.

142 The Misfits We Are 138, Bullet, Hollywood Babylon, Attitude b/w Horror Business, Teenagers From Mars, Last Caress

A present from Dave Buick. I commented how much I'd love to have this bootleg single of these 7 essential Misfits tunes and not only did he pull the single from his broken jukebox for me, he even gave me his Crimson Ghost-tagged title strip as well. Bummed I didn't think to slot this in #138.

143 The Pleasure Seekers What a Way to Die b/w Never Thought You’d Leave Me
Repress.

144 The Make-Up Blue is Beautiful b/w Type U Blood

145 The Shangri-Las Remember b/w It’s Easier to Cry

146 The Make-Up Free Arthur Lee b/w Tell it Like a Version
This, along with the Gap Band, Miracles, Crystals and a bunch of others, is a record that is carried solely by the strength of the A-side. All have forgettable B-sides.

147 The Victims Television Addict b/w (I’m) Flipped Out Over You
Repress. If there were no repress I would probably put my original on here.

148 The Stooges Down on the Street b/w I Feel Alright (1970)
Quite possibly the greatest 45 of album tracks. US promo copy with criminal track fade-outs.

149 The Crystals Then He Kissed Me b/w Brother Julius
I'm sure I'm not the only youth of the Eighties who discovered this song via the opening credits of Adventures in Babysitting but I'm willing to wager any of those other youths didn't come to appreciate this Spector symphony as much as I have.

150 The Cobras I Wanna Be Your Love b/w Instant Heartache
A-side is inspiration for the Gories Nitroglycerine. Repress.

151 Motor City Bonnevilles Make Up Your Mind b/w That Lonely Feeling

152 The Rats The Rats Revenge Pt. 1 b/w The Rats Revenge Pt. 2
Repress on Norton. Like I'd throw the original in here.

153 Dollhouse Shangri-La Tiger b/w I’m a Man on the Move
The song-ending effects explosion on Tiger is probably the loudest my juke gets.

154 The Wildbunch Take Off Your Clothes, Nuclear War (On the Dancefloor) b/w Ballad of MC Sucka DJ
Ballad is actually the A-side here, but I always dug the flip so heavily that I took it upon myself to re-appropriate.

155 Gene Vincent Be-Bop-A-Lula b/w Baby Blue

156 The B-52's Rock Lobster b/w 52 Girls
Original early versions of both these songs. Stellar.

157 The Kinks I Need You b/w Set Me Free

158 The Yardbirds Over, Under, Sideways, Down b/w Ha, Ha Said the Clown

159 The Four Tops Bernadette b/w I Got a Feeling
The cold screamed plea of "Bernadette!" is probably my favorite Motown moment.

160 Midnight Star Freak-a-Zoid b/w No Parking on the Dancefloor
I think this 45 belonged to my dad. He had an affinity for this kind of funk. Hands-down one of the most cruelly overlooked singles I can think of.

161 The Kinks Till the End of the Day b/w Where Have All the Good Times Gone

162 The Kinks All Day and All of the Night b/w I Gotta Move

163 MC5 Looking at You b/w Borderline
Total Energy repress. Loud as all get out.

164 The B-52’s Dance This Mess Around b/w Lava

165 The Yardbirds For Your Love b/w Heart Full of Soul

166 The Creation Making Time b/w Try and Stop Me

167 The White Stripes Lafayette Blues b/w Sugar Never Tasted So Good
I think this copy is on pinkish vinyl.

168 The Unrelated Segments Where You Gonna Go? b/w It’s Gonna Rain

169 The Stooges 1969 b/w Real Cool Time
Italian copy.

170 Smokey Robinson and the Miracles The Tears of a Clown b/w Promise Me

171 The Gap Band You Dropped a Bomb on Me b/w Lonely Like Me
Another dad favorite. The 14 minute version is worth owning as well.

172 The Detroit Cobras Ain’t it a Shame b/w Slumlord
The best thing the Cobras have done or will ever do. I'll say it again...they are always better when they cover rock songs. Question Mark's version of Shame was an old standby on here for ages. Slumlord packs a wallop that the Deviants version never managed. Essential.

173 The White Stripes Party of Special Things to Do b/w China Pig, Ashtray Heart
Probably the most expensive single on here. The juke scratches up some singles and leaves others visibly unaffected. I'm hoping this one is clean. But I've got a spare if it's scratchy.
174 The Strokes The Modern Age b/w Last Nite
You know, for kids.

175 Weezer Buddy Holly b/w Jamie

176 They Come in 3’s Where Rev Lived b/w Too Far to the East
Overlooked genius from the apogee of Detroit Garage Rock. Worth the search.

177 Scene Creamers AK-47 b/w Luv Wuz

178 Clone Defects Scissors Chop b/w 15 Minute Love, Mars

179 Bobby Brown My Prerogative b/w My Prerogative (Instrumental)
Was excited/horrified/delighted when both Britney Spears and Selfish Cunt covered this song at relatively the same time. The groove is bombastic. Dig it.

Crooked Brow for Question Mark...

? and the Mysterians at the Winter Blast.

Someone had described them before as a Mexican wedding band. My girlfriend asked "Why do so many of these songs sound exactly like '96 Tears?" Someone else pointed out the importance of the Rolling Stones instrumental "2120 South Michigan Avenue" on the band's oeuvre and how the German pressing of "12x5" has a guitar solo edited out of all other pressings. They played a song called "Cherry July" that none of us collectors could pull up in our mental rolodex of record collections. They did a solid version of "8 Teen" which I only began to love after I learned that the Mooney Suzuki had ripped that song off for ALL of their early jams..."And Begin", "Turn My Blue Sky Black" and "Love is a Gentle Whip" among the ones that come to mind. But they didn't play "Ain't it a Shame"...a song I only became aware of via the Detroit Cobras cover version and had played a version once with the Bricks live on the Garden Bowl lanes.

I heard somebody say they'd seen a ? show where they played "96 Tears" three times. The audacity of such a setlist coup could've clearly shook my weary head this evening.

Could've done without the drawn-out take on "Stand By Me", but then again, this was a band who's closest comparison is really and truly a Mexican wedding band. The new album is supposedly titled "It's Time for Rock and Roll." I think back to Bangs' rant about "96 Tears" and wonder what he would have thought about what I saw last night. Would he think it was retread or revolution? Q himself has still got it...in his beetle boots and belly shirt he's got all kinds of dance moves to light up the stage. And he's still the only man (or, in his mind, Martian) I've ever seen have to genuinely stop a woman from trying to take off his pants onstage (Magic Stick, 5/30/98).

I guess I could lean either way...if they'd have done "Ain't it a Shame" I'm sure I would've flipped. If they hadn't done "8 Teen" I'm sure the pain in my legs from standing in a heat tent situated in the middle of Woodward for nigh on an hour would've have been, for some reason that clearly has no relation to the song, a little more prevalent. The mere fact that they're playing at all should be the only thing that matters. And for some reason, I feel that I expect a little more from this band that has been around for over forty years. But I don't want to.

I wish I was more into it. I wish I could sit here and say it was the greatest show I'd ever seen. But it was honestly mediocre. And being mediocre is not that harmful a label, as there are no other mid-Sixties one-hit-wonders that I can even imagine wanting to witness in the translucent Detroit cold. So Question Mark won this time, but in the future, I hope my end of the battle is not plagued by old-timey sentiment and elder respect. Until then, I'll just cry...

Birds are Singing...

I'm not usually one for songs licensed to commercial causes. But this instance struck me as beautiful. Check it out...

www.volvocars.se

From there, click on the "Nya Volvo C30" section that says "Think Outside the Box"
From there, sit through Sammy's spiel and then click "The Joyride" where you then are given two choices. They're both fun. You get to control the mix of the music and revel in the slightly surreal. It feels like "Yellow Submarine" all over again. I have enjoyed this to no end. Kudos to Volvo for its creativity.

Fuck Art. Let's Damage...

Human Eye live at the Museum of Contemporary Art 2/2/07

I was a bit wary of paying $10 to get in. The exhibit “Shrinking Cities” made no sense to anyone I spoke to (there were Germans involved and a shuttle to Cranbrook, but I didn’t feel like I should have to read a treatise to understand an art show…I should just be able to look at art, right?)

So I reluctantly pony’d up and walked past “art” and supposed treatments for urban living. I cry bunk. The “Meditations in an Emergency” exhibition, complete with Chris Fachini’s ghetto-fabulous rock box sound-system and Roxy Paine’s riveting blob maker was definitely more pleasing. I am not being ironic. I really liked both of these pieces.

The Eye were privy to a packed room, all sorts of art snobs, look-at-me’s, ne’er-do-wells and other shitterati that an only an exhibit opening in Detroit can make them crawl out from under their rocks for.

The performance was deadly. In front of a cinderblock wall painted white, the band slowly plodded into their intro. Brad Hales on bass has proven to be a key integration. With his gold-lame skullcap/bear ears or whatever you want to call it, he’s proven he doesn’t have to be “weird’ to be in the band. He is holding the shit together.

Around the second or third song frontman/guitarist/troglodyte/pure genius Tim Vulgar (or Tim Punk or Tim Lampinen or T.V. Lamp) starts fooling around with a plastic bottle of paint. He had some absurd industrial hose tentacle glove on his left hand and it was all a blur. At first I thought he was dabbing himself with a bingo card marker…on his face or guitar, you know, something just crazy enough that Tim would’ve thought of it first.

But no. This was paint. Tim biting at the bottom of the bottle finally gets the thing working. Without warning he starts splattering the back wall with this blue paint.

Now I’d seen the Creation at the Magic Stick a few years back and they spraypainted a canvas red with purple flashes but they did that EVERY show. It was dry. It was rehearsed. It was anti-climatic.

But Tim, unleashing his inner Pollock on the wall of this months-old institution was liberating. The confusion and puzzlement I felt when trying to decipher the Shrinking Cities exhibit was instantly erased. Tim eventually resorted to smashing the bottle against this austere white wall. Always in need of iconoclasm, I think I stared it down purely that night. I think the rest of the crowd was in agreement with me.

Human Eye somehow got into the belly of the beast and blew the whole fucking thing open. Tim was tossing around a roll of some decorative trim, something you might find on a shitty tablecloth or blanket and trying to TP the place with it, wrapping it around people’s necks and tossing it in the air with impunity.

There were some loosey-goosey moments that I imagine only other dudes in bands could dig on. Things like Tim and Brad and drummer Billy Hafer all making the “what’d we just do?” face at each other towards the end of “Spiders and their Kin” soon thereafter followed up by a collective “aw, fuckit” face before they ramped into the calamitous ending.

And it sounded fine. No one dare notice. A few songs later Tim skillfully tore open a pillow and with a toreador’s flay let loose an extraordinary snowfall of faux feathers. The look in the room, for that second or two where these pieces of (let’s be honest here) dust were slowly floating down onto everyone, was so majestic. So serene. So unexpected and antithetical to everything else going on in that building that night. It created a feeling an atmosphere more than is possible to convey through words on a stupid website.

Billy is a hellstorm on the drums…all laid back and free when necessary and other times a hail of snare fire and tom rolls. He is a drummer that is exciting to watch and those are sincerely few and far between. He was in the Sights for a show a few years back and I was aflutter with enthusiasm after watching him, imagining the future and the potential the deadly Billy-Bobby-Eddie line-up had. But they went with Mike Trombly before realizing they wanted a Patrick Keeler and instead got Keith Fox. But that’s a whole ‘nother story…and one that end’s up with Human Eye grabbing the pink frosted donut while no one was looking.

The show ended with the previously-mentioned gaudy trim being scrounged up and set on fire in front of the band by a batch of miscreants. Someone graffiti’d beneath Tim’s splattering “TVP (a misappropriation of his Timmy V. Lamp moniker) $1000” The place was a beautiful mess, all paint and trim and dust in a perplexing assemblage on the floor. Whatever the intention of booking the Human Eye to play this night, the band came and did the only thing they could and that was wreak havoc.

After the show the owner of the MOCAD wanted to discuss with Tim what they would do about the big blue smear of paint on their previously pristine wall. Without missing a beat, Tim said “Put a frame around it.”

But before people had begun to leave there was already a gallery schmo trying to clean the thing off. With his back to the crowd a crushed beer can (or something of that sort, definitely with a bit of weight) sailed past his head and thudded against the wall.

Fuck art. Let’s Damage.













(Human Eye setlist...notice small splotches of blue paint)

PS. The pioneers @ 107.9 FM was the only interesting part of the Shrinking Cities exhibition. Twelve different collaborators spread primarily across Detroit (with one each in Hamtramck, Ferndale and Royal Oak) spouting radio signals with 400 foot range each with specific programming running 24 hours a day. Chris Pottinger (Odd Clouds, Cotton Musuem) has an original sound piece coming from his crib near St. Aubin and Casmere streets (I caught it earlier today and it was devastating bliss) while Matt and Hazel Blake host what I can only predict is badass from their homstead right around the corner from the Yorba. These are definitely worth driving around for and checking out at http://www.jonbrumit.com/talking-homes.html
view the rest of the junk at www.mocadetroit.org

photos lovingly supplied by Lauren Hood

The Muldoons Phoned It In...

The Muldoons on “Phoning it In” radio program.
Live in the Muldoon Upholstery garage.
Amps on standby
No heat in here.
Hunter in sleeveless white t-shirt.
Shane wearing Spitfire skateboarding t-shirt with Bloody Hollys (Cyril Lords) pin.
Brian in beret and long-sleeve yellow and grey striped t-shirt.
Hunter doing the interview.
Shane waltzing around, trying to cause a stir, aggravate his brother.
Start at 9:04 pm, Shane wearing Honolulu blue air-traffic-controller headphones.
The fact that this is all happening through a mustard yellow curlee cord phone is wonderful. Me and Mom are sitting on the cutting table (she’s also wearing a pair of blue ATC headphones).
1st song – “I Need Your Love” cover of the Greenhornes garage mover, Shane is rampant, all over the studio.
2nd song – “Pain – Gimme Sympathy” cover of Jack Starr, popularized by the Upholsterers…Shane-O gets into this one, hopping around the microphone, treating this like an actual show. The radio listeners can’t see how enthusiastic he is and it is their loss.
3rd song – “Tall” my favorite original ‘doons tune. The melody of the choruses “oh-oh-oh-oh” is painfully simple and deceptive and catchy as all hell. Shane claps along and I can see the imaginary crowd doing so as well. This band is so intrinsically good that it pains me when people don’t get it. When they’re overly critical of the fact that these kids aren’t virtuosos. They’re totally missing the point. This is unbridled youthful exuberance.
How can you tell if someone is trying to call on the other line? I wonder if that annoying call waiting audio click/mute is happening right now. Or if some is trying to pull an emergency breakthrough.
4th song – “Epic Battles” intro into “Red and Black” back into “Epic Battles” and I take snapshots using my iSight camera.
5th song – “Not Old Enough” I don’t’ think I’ve ever heard this song before. Shane is on guitar and the boy is primal, can’t see him tackling more than one string at a time. Missing out on rock and roll shows, R-rated movies…’tis your fate when you don’t even have an ID. Shane is rocking the wah-wah.
6th song – “Zombies” I adjust phone placement for a second and stick my tongue out at Shane. This song chugs on with dissonant distorto guitar weight. Heavy like you ate 3 cheeseburgers at Miller’s in Dearborn. Hunt slays on his “zombie solo”, one of the best solo intro’s after “tell ‘em how I feel” and “take it Micky”
7th song – “Imaginary Friends” slow picked guitar like the Keggs that I’m sure these boys have never heard. Lonely fuzz by Shane. Wait, isn’t this a school night? Are the boys up too late? Setlist taped to the door of the shop. Telephone is hanging from the top of a steamer, a few inches from two swaths of foam attached to the wall, Albini-style.
8th song – “Funtime” Cover of Iggy Pop. If Shane isn’t a born frontman I don’t know who is. He oozes the charisma it takes many guys many years to develop. Asheton-like wah-wah blasts from Hunt destroy. I’m behind his amp and it sounds glorious. We talked about the new Stooges song…"My Idea of Fun” the kids loved it, Brian and I thought it left a bit to be desired. Is anyone listening? Brian has threatened to release this on an LP if it sounds remotely good, enamored with the absurdity of the lo-fi idea through a telephone.
9th song – “Interstellar Overdrive” intro to “Chubby Bunny” Shane does the “IO” power chords as his bangs hang over his eyes. I notice the point where they keep repeating the song title that they progressively make it more and more unintelligible…as if they’re actually shoving marshmallows in their mouths while singing. It’s attention paid to the smallest detail (like this) that is behind the best bands. Mom has the video camera rolling. Multi-media. Stuttered marching band snare drum dominance from Brian propels the song. Hunter’s voice is changing and he’s sick so his vox are delicately odd this evening. Is this the rocking-est garage in Detroit? Shane playing the high E string to the tempo of “Top Special” by the White Stripes. A “Drain You” styled plodding build-up, back into “IO”.
Shane grabs the receiver when they’re done “Hello?” “Thank you”
Mom says “shane, walk over here a little” so that he’s in camera sight.
We listen to the performance on the computer after moving all the gear out of the shop. Brian and Shane think it sounds great. Hunter thinks they are nuts. Mom just sits and smiles.

This is my favorite family in the world.

Listen for yourself…
http://www.bsrlive.com/archives/playlist.php?p=5508

Italy Records Alive and Well...the Go Help Re-start Label

In a world where things we can count on number less and less every day, I am refreshed as to what I grabbed on my latest office visit at Archer Record Pressing. There were times when I never thought I’d see this…the musical equivalent of a coelacanth or an Inverted Jenny stamp. Alas…a new Italy Records release.

Dave Buick has recovered from the shuttering of the Young Soul Rebels record shop (and occasional record imprint) and picked up where he left off with his seminal label in 2001. Man, was it seven years ago he released the Whirlwind Heat single?

Italy release lucky number 13 is the second Detroit-issued 7” by the Go in mere months, (the other done by a shady huckster with Polish Mafia connections and his hand in the pocket of the flexi-disc lobby) and proves they got the goods to seriously scare you.

I’ll admit right here and open up the argument…Bobby Harlow and John Krautner are the best songwriting duo from this city since Collins and Kroha teamed up South of 8 Mile and Dog Butt publishing. Yes, gasp in the grandiosity of the word. The Go are unrivaled as songwriters in this town and more people need to accept it.

“You Go Bangin’ On” hints at Beefhearty baritone barks, instead grasping a heavenly harmony that Harlow has already expressed his fear of having to recreate live. Marc Fellis steals the show here though…consistently underrated in this town for his drumming what he delivers here is so unflinchingly original and captivating that he gets the MVP award.


Flip is equally undeniable. “Maribel” (the entire first name of Detroit Cobras git slinger/brains Mary Restrepo for those keeping stalk at home) dabbles in Krautner’s bubblegum fetish with equal debt to the Beatles and Tommy James and other Sixties pop staples. “Is my teasin’ to your pleasin’?” is warmhearted wholesome lyric brilliance. This one definitely sounds like you’ve heard it before…touchstones your brain can’t specifically place turn into watermarks of songcraft.

This is the first smash hit of the new year. You need this. Never mind the pink on the Italy label is a darker hue than of years past. Never mind the band getting their name in their own personalized font on the label (a new step for Italy that lends it’s look to an early 70’s psych single) or even the switch from the classic FuturaBold font is negligible (although noticed by Italy nerd-hards like me). Instant classic.

Archival Detroit Soul Singles and My Weak Comparisons to Better-Known Motown Acts...

I’d like to fake that I know a thing or two about soul music, but in this town that could get me killed. Here’s a handful of archival release 7”s of rare Detroit soul. The stuff on Soul King was originally recorded under the auspices of the Gold Soul label in the late 60’s and early 70’s. Ron Murphy was the brains behind that operation and finally released them on his Soul King imprint in 1991 before quickly going out of print. (Full disclosure: Ron Murphy cuts vinyl masters for Cass Records. He’s a badass. He’s forgotten more about Detroit soul music than any one else will ever know). Coupled with the two Detroit Stars discs (which might be illegit, but I’m sure no one’s checking) I stumbled upon this batch of wax for review. Weirdly enough, you can’t find these in Detroit, or as far as I can tell, North America. The only distros I’ve seen carrying any of these are all in the UK, where appreciation for this stuff is rampant. So if yer so inclined, there maybe some searching involved. But that never hurt anyone.

My deal with soul is (in-brief) like this: Before the Dirtbombs recorded “Ultraglide…” I knew next to nothing about the genre. My education was Detroit oldies radio. The standards really. So for anything to get to me, move me, elicit a reaction, I think it needs to have some sort of connection or relation to those hits instilled in me at a young age. Tricky thing is, while Motown was busy becoming the multi-million dollar leader in independent black record production in the mix-Sixties, there were hundreds of others in Detroit hoping just to grab the teensiest slice of Gordy’s pie. So EVERYONE was trying to replicate the Motown sound and what results is a cottage industry of unimaginable magnitude. There is so much rare, unreleased, unheralded soul to be mined (and already mined) from this city that it’s breathtaking. Personally, I prefer the ends of the spectrum…gimme a scorching-fast barn-burning tempo or deathly slow tear-jerking ballad. I don’t want no in-between. Or gimme the top-of-the-line Studio A production with bells and whistles and back-up singers and the Detroit Symphony Orchestra overdubbed or gimme the crude two-track live recoding done in a living room on the Northwest side. No room for in-betweens.
So below, my reference points (as I would assume most everyone else’s) are the bigger, well-known Motown hitmakers. I haven’t written so much about soul, so maybe this is just more of an exercise than anything.


The Metros “What’s Wrong With Your Love” b/w “She’s Just Not Everybodys Girl” Soul King-401
Reminiscent of the mid-sixties Four Tops, these tracks were recorded in 1971. A-side produced/co-written by Fiery Bursey who had done previous time at Golden World and Motown. “What’s Wrong With Your Love” sizzles with Northern floor-filling aplomb while the flip is a midtempo swooning ballad produced by La Beat cohort Bill Smith, who shares writing credits on both tracks. Not bad, not killer.

Nelson Sanders “I Hold the Key” b/w “It’s Real” Soul King-402
Having done two records with La Beat, Sanders was paired with Onie Griner, Bill Smith and Eddie Robinson for these sides in 1969. Both of these songs are considered unfinished and it shows. “Key” is a slow piano-driven cut with pleading vocals a la Al Green with less refinement. “It’s Real” is another showcase for Sanders vocals and someone on some shit-hot bongo riffs. But there is definite questionable drumming on “Real” that takes away from the coulda-been-a-buried-album-track-of-a-Motown-one-hit-wonder vibe of the entire thing. This would not have gotten past Quality Control.

Doni Burdick “Candle” b/w “Whatcha Gonna Do” Soul King-403
Now THIS could’ve gone somewhere. “Candle” is an uptempo foot-stomping mover propelled by knockout horn stabs that vaguely hint at Stevie’s “Uptight”. The flip is more juice…them horns and drums so in-the-pocket they’re covered in lint and then, some tricky-smooth tambourine tomfoolery. Wow. Recorded in 1971 but could easily fool someone it was six years earlier. This one is worth searching for and paying the exorbitant import price.

Pat Lewis “Geni” b/w “Loves Creeping Up on Me” Detroit Stars-701
Lewis is highly regarded in Northern Soul circles and can command a good $2k for her most desirable stuff. “Geni” is dynamic and properly produced with horns, strings, tympani and the whole shebang, but is a bit airy and just doesn’t hit me. But “Loves Creeping Up on Me” is killer. While originally released (with the same backing track) by the Holidays on Revilot, this is supposedly the demo version the Holidays worked from. Lewis’ vocals do it silky justice. The bass/guitar interplay is reminiscent of a Hitsville smash a la HDH via the Supremes. The trebly git hook wrapped up in Jamerson-esque low-end movements is sublime. Dig it hard.





Margaret Little “Love Finds a Way” b/w “I Need Some Loving” Detroit Stars-702
A-side is predictable. Little’s voice doesn’t stand out in the least. Sax break is such a Funk Brothers lift that I feel like a witness to a crime. Flip carries more ambience but fails to deliver any interest. Unreleased for a reason?

Four Down, Four to Go...

Random unsolicited email today:


"My 6-year old son Evan has a habit of asking questions that are pretty
tough to answer. Examples from this week include:

What's your favorite cemetery where you have relatives that are buried?
Can a fish swim faster than a bird can fly?

And I'm writing you to share one that's pretty tough:

If the two dead members of The Who, and the two dead members of the
Beatles formed a band...

and the two living members of The Who, and the two living members of the
Beatles formed a band...

Which band would be better?

I can see it either way. Keith Moon, John Entwhistle, John Lennon and
George Harrison, OR Pete Townshend, Paul McCartney, Ringo Starr and
Roger Daltrey?

If it wasn't for Pete, the choice would be easy. What do you think?"

MY REPLY...

I live for emails like this. But don't unwisely invest too much in Pete's living. In my opinion, I don't particularly have much care for Daltrey or Entwistle. And Ringo gets unfairly bagged on (the fill on the Anthology version of "Strawberry Fields" alone make this man a visionary) . I feel like everyone else would very quickly choose the dead guys and for some reason that makes me want to pick apart the question even more. Now that I think about it, I'm very clear that I would much rather see Townsend/McCartney together than any other combo of those two bands. Paul is such a badass on bass...shit like "Taxman" or "Dear Prudence" or "Tomorrow Never Knows" are all undeniable. And Pete on guitar on "Pictures of Lily" or "My Generation" are ALL you need in my book. But then, do you take on Daltrey's voice as a liability? Because he's the only one there who doesn't play an instrument. You're left with a power trio and one in which both Pete and Paul can sing (in my opinion) better. With my rules, Daltrey can shake a tambourine and not have to sing. Do with that what you may.

If we were to slightly alter the challenge and took the two dead Beatles with the living members of the Who (Lennon, Harrison, Townsend, Daltrey) against Moon, Entwistle, McCartney and Ringo I would, on theory, select dead Who/living Beatles (while some may claim the three guitar vs. double drum/double bass argument is malarkey, I'm viewing it on far more intrinsic levels). Take into account the songs Pete/Paul/Ringo/Daltrey wrote vs. the songs Lennon/Harrison/Entwistle/Moon wrote. Or if you wanna ignore a lot of the crap, Pete and Paul vs. Harrison and Lennon. To me, that is CLEARLY Paul and Townsend...you get the punk and the melody. with Harrison/Lennon, you just get the melody. And if we view this above-board and pull the ever-bloody straight up Beatles vs. the Who, I'm left having to pick the Beatles if only for their consistency and paving the way for acts like the Who.

With that in mind, if we view this mathematically, Paul and Ringo would be the trump here. If we approach dead vs. living as a stalemate, equal, on-par, whatever...Paul and Ringo would be the winners in the two other categories (Beatles vs. Who and dead Beatles w/living Who vs. dead Who w/living Beatles) and Paul/Pete wrote the better songs vs Harrison and Lennon. So really, in this case, it is Paul who's living is the deal-breaker. Whatever team he's on, I'm joining. And so it is settled (in my mind) that the living members of the Who and the Beatles would be a better band than the dead members of the Who and the Beatles. Especially since dead people can't even play instruments. But if you're explaining it to the youth, you always choose the power trio over the four piece with two guitars.

Your thoughts?

The This Many Boyfriends Club...

As threatened, here is my GarageBand cover of the Beat Happening classic. This is the first project I've ever completed in GarageBand. If the download doesn't work, email me at cassdetroit@aol.com and I'll email you back with a copy of the song.
Enjoy!



http://www.sendspace.com/file/amumeq

When I Knew My Chicken...

There are certain musical moments in your life that clearly watershed. Moments that divide your life into before and after.

Hearing Brian May’s guitar entrance on “We Will Rock You” at a Detroit Rockers indoor soccer game at Cobo Hall (or was it Joe Louis Arena?) in fourth grade struck me. Bold, stinging and cocky, May’s solo is everything a rock guitar part should be and if forced to provide a template, I would point young axers in the direction of this otherwise over-wrought cliché’d arena rock.

But Winter 1995 into 1996 would leave me struck harder than any other event I’d witnessed at that point, and only a handful afterwards.

This was the season MTV had given a late night talk show to teenager Jake Fogelnest. While originally beginning as a cable access program, “Squirt TV” was shot in Fogelnest’s NYC bedroom and seemed like heaven. The walls were covered with ultra-hip posters…Jon Spencer Blues Explosion, “Mallrats”, Pavement, “Saturday Night Fever”, Mike Watt…there was a disco ball glittering away and Christmas lights wrapped around an otherwise ill-placed pillar made the place look like every 12-year-old’s dream club house.

And for a show that was on at midnight on Fridays, they pulled some sweet guests. Kevin Smith showed up with Joey Lauren Adams, Janeane Garofalo, Ad Rock, Beck and the Fugees (way before “The Score” blew up) all stopped in to chat on young Jake’s bed. As a Catholic-schooled pre-teen getting no love from the plaid-skirted counterparts, saving up my pennies to buy bootleg Nirvana CD’s and just recently discovering masturbation, “Squirt TV” was like an invitation to an otherwordly land where someone somewhat like me could be considered remotely cool, do something creative and have a viable outlet for it. I identified more with Jake Fogelnest onscreen during “Squirt TV” more than anyone else ever featured on a television screen before or since.

And the tease with the show was that it was so achingly hard to stay up until midnight. Occasionally there would be a party in someone’s basement on the weekend, Stephanie DiVirgil, Allison Glenn and Melissa Moultrie all had 8th-grade get-togethers where Spin-the-Bottle with hugging substituted for kissing was the norm. Why did dudes never host parties? Looking back, I’m glad there was still some innocence kicking around. I’d go to dances just to have a reason to wear my Silverchair t-shirt and look at girls I liked. Never danced. Not sure what I’d do if one of those girls I liked would’ve actually asked me to.

So after one of these girl-hosted parties, I came home on a wintery night to glowing television light. The rest of the house was asleep. And on came Cibo Matto.
I knew nothing about this band. They were martians as far as I was concerned. From the opening shot of Russell Simin’s bagel-on-a-hihat, snare, kick drum and floor tom, I was digging. I always appreciated a simple drum set and this would be the simplest in my world for some time, although there was always an affinity for Patrick Wilson in Weezer because he used Slingerlands. The bagel itself seemed so stupid yet so clever at the same time and I was transfixed by it. Focused really...that sort of tweener excitement that is totally unwarranted yet totally unexplainable. It just is. I think I ate more bagels after that and Simins is to blame.
But Cibo Matto destroyed my mind that night.

If I had to place the significance on any one thing, it was Sean Lennon and his fuzz bass. I don’t know if I’d ever heard a fuzz bass before that…maybe a Beck song or something, but I’m sure it would’ve been buried under the other 48 tracks of amazing shit.

But the fuzz bass was the only tonal element to this performance. It carried the voices and propelled the drums. And the whole song is pretty much just six damn notes, repeated over and over and over and over.

Lennon threw in a few tasty bass chords that to this day still sound so sick that I wish that dude was in the Dirtbombs. And then, solo time…

Begun with guttural screams from the two pint-sized Japanese women (and thus showing me what I imagined the Boredoms were like) Lennon unleashed a brash, feedback-sparked display of dexterity that seared my vanilla mind. Lennon was playing a badass Guild Jet Star bass through an Ampeg SVT…the shape of the Jet Star is arguably the coolest body of a guitar with the Fender Jaguar as the only close competition. The women were jumping frenzied on the bed and Simins held true on his stuttered hat/snare/kick combo that I still, for the life of me, cannot replicate.

Then vocals and drums together as the bass drops out. I secretly want to do an album of just vocals and drums…inspired by this moment, Co-Real Artist’s “What About You”, COCO’s cover of “Superfool” and Beat Happening’s “The This Many Boyfriends Club”. Beat Happening’s song is just a cappella with feedback, man, I’m tempted to just GarageBand that thing once I’m done here.

Cibo Matto closed the show with a Casio keyboard cover version of Soundgarden’s “Black Hole Sun” which I took as totally devoid of irony.

Not long thereafter I found a used copy of CM’s “Viva! La Woman” at Desirable Discs in Dearborn. I bought it expecting facsimile of the version of “Know Your Chicken” I’d heard on “Squirt TV”. I was cruelly disappointed. The two versions shared lyrics and nothing else, the album rendition just crappy with keyboard bits and affected vocals.
I would find an EP on El Diablo Records years later with a vaguely faithful rendition of “Chicken” as I had become attached to. Neither Simins nor Lennon play on it. It is only somewhat satisfying although pretty accurate to the version I love. Here are the El Diablo versions...

"Know Your Chicken"
http://www.sendspace.com/file/o387j4

"Black Hole Sun"
http://www.sendspace.com/file/khxbm9

No matter what music I would get into later on, I could always come back to “Know Your Chicken” and still be impressed. I met Simins last year and wanted to be a prick to the guy. I think I gave him shit about Blues Explosion, but I had to give sincere praise for the bagel and everything else on “Squirt TV”. He laughed and said he knew we would be friends. Not exactly the reaction I was looking for, but I rolled with it. The bagel was just from a catering tray and he was sparked with inspiration. I thought I'd never get that explanation.

As I pulled out my dubbed-from-TV clip of “Chicken” I try to notice things I hadn’t before…the Devo “Freedom of Choice” LP resting against the bass drum, Yuka Honda’s t-shirt that appears to be made by Tannis Root, Lennon playing through an Electro-Harmonix tube pedal (probably)…it is a satisfied feeling looking back at a memory of days past with knowledge attained since. It shows all the years passed by have not been a complete waste.

Cibo Matto would perform in Detroit at the Shelter on February 18th, 1997. My brother Stephen and best friend Nick Orozco had all geeked ourselves up to go. I’d even heard the band interviewed on Martin Bandyke’s radio show and actually learned from there that their bass player was Sean Lennon was John and Yoko’s kid. It was actually Yoko’s 64th birthday so they spun the Beatles “When I’m Sixty-Four”. As Nick and Steve and I got to the Shelter door, we were crushed to find out that the show was sold out. To add insult to injury, both Nick and my brother knew the guy working the door, Damon from the Notre Dame alum ska band the Exceptions. We walked away bummed. I would never try to see them again.

When I first got word of YouTube and how it worked, the “Squirt TV” version of “Know Your Chicken” was the first thing I searched. Sadly, it’s not there. I’m tempted to figure out how to transfer my static-y VHS version so that some other wide-eyed malcontents might gain the same inspiration from it I did.

Jealous Night...

I arrived too early. I had too much time. The first band had not even started yet.
When Porchsleeper finally took the stage, my ears were battered with 5th rate Big Star aping. Guitars too metallic and loud, no dynamism between the songs and a particularly (memorable) terrible lyric somewhere along the lines of “I can’t get over all these coffee shop kids. When I was young, kids didn’t drink coffee.” I definitely understood the presence of “sleeper” in the band name. I yawned. Time wasted.

Siddhartha didn’t really take the stage or properly start a song as they were more ambling around, slowly, calmly setting up before inconspicuously rumbling into what felt like a jam made up on the spot, complete with lyrics about the Chinese shooting down satellites. And not far behind was the song where they all shout “Revolution!” and they pretend, along with the crowd, that revolution is really what we want. The dual guitars made for tasty licks and more than once Marlon Hauser’s vocals dipped into Lenny Kravitz territory. I thought it was funny when he started repeating the n-word over and over again into the microphone, but then again, I missed the context.

The Sights were the Sights. Although playing new songs, those new songs sounded exactly as the Sights have sounded ever since Bobby Emmett joined the band almost 4 years ago. Even with Pete Ballard on second guitar (occasionally pedal steel) it sounded like the same old Sights. Which is wonderful, as I love the band. They were drunk and a handful of people explained their disappointment in the performance. Someone came up to me and said “What do you think of the the new poppy, radio-friendly Sights?” and I thought they were joking. There is nothing different here. Mrs. Baranek (Eddie’s mom) and I were in clear agreement that they could do with far less drinking and f-bombs. The repeated requests from the stage for booze or brews gets tired and depressing quickly. And the overzealous expectation for the crowd to sing along to “Scratch My Name in Sin” was discomforting…I sincerely felt awkward. But the teaser three-seconds of “Got What We Want” snuck into the ending of “Nobody” was clever and made up for previous discomfort.

By the time the encore rolled around I didn’t really feel one was deserved. Eddie invited a bunch of people onstage to sing the backing vocals on “That Ain’t Right”, mainly members of the Decks and the Displays, junior achievers in the current crop of Detroit rock. But they took forever to start the song…I’ve always felt any momentum for an encore needs to be quickly translated into a song or else, just don’t fucking play. What I though would be hackneyed and embarrassing was actually wholesome and sweet. The Displays are all of 12-years-old and the Decks are (probably) still teenagers and they were all into it. Eddie handed his guitar over to one of the Displays boys (Brandon?) for the last verse, a simple “bam-bam” guitar part executed to-a-T until the chord change, where a wonderfully mangled noise came from the guitar. I don’t think anyone was expecting the kid to get the change right, and I’m sure Eddie probably didn’t think to tell him the next chord, but it was all light-hearted and fun. I laughed not because the part was played wrong, but because everyone was enjoying themselves.

They closed the with “Jealous Night”, their clear-and-present lift of Van Morrison’s “Moondance” that I lovingly released on LP. It was at this point my jealousy reared its ugly head.

A Sights show is one of the rare events that can make me simultaneously feel young and old at the same time. With the Sights decidedly East side crowd I would run into all sorts of characters that bring teenaged memories swirling back into my head. Hell, Eddie (the only East side member of the band) and me go back to when his band was called the Same and was still playing suburban coffeehouses. Anyway, I saw no less than 5 people I went to high school with. Kids who I had to write raps with in speech class. Kids who asked me what records they should buy from Car City. Kids who sat the bench with me freshman year baseball. Kids who had shitty bands that sang songs about “South Park”. Kids who’s driveways I painted with Grape Mad Dog 20/20 vomit.

Most alarmingly though were the actual kids that an all-ages show is wont to bring out. These young ones made those high school memories quickly swirl away into the ether and instead made me wonder about my impending loss of medical insurance, the jaded feelings creeping into my being, my usual of staying in on Friday nights and what in the hell I actually plan on doing with the rest of my life.

Where I went to grade school, 1st graders and 7th graders (along with 2nd graders and 8th graders) were paired off into a “buddy” system. The elder pupils would read to the younger ones once a week, we’d attend mass together and make crafts with each other. Shit like that.

Because I was deemed “responsible” my 7th grade year I was paired with a hellion by the name of Matthew Yee. It was thought I could be a good role model for him. He was just spazzy, nothing inherently wrong with the boy. I’d later find out his dad went to high school with my parents and was the photographer at my sister’s baptism. A few years later I tried to pawn off a VHS of some Cinemax boob-core on Matt and one of his pals for $5. He lived in the neighborhood and rode his bike past the house often. I have no idea how the subject came up. They had to have asked me as there’s no way I would’ve approached them…I hope. Something along the lines of “You got any porn?” with me thinking I could milk some $$ outta the kids, my entrepreneurial teen spirit glowing through any morals or compunction I may have had at that point. But thank God the transaction didn’t go through. Oh the delinquency of minors…

Anyway, it wasn’t Matthew Yee I saw at the Magic Stick. It was a girl who was in his class. A girl who’s the daughter of the man who would’ve been my Spanish teacher in high school had I actually taken Spanish. I understand the age-difference is six or seven years at the most (making her 17 or 18), but the feeling of seeing someone who seemed who distant before, hanging out right behind you, in the same spot I was ten years ago…I realize that youth is slowly dripping through my fingers.

My sister, 16 months my junior, asked me what age 24 is like the other day. I told her 24 feels like the first time people actually expect something from you. And talking to high school buddies, I could understand why. Auditor. Television cameraman. Deliveryman. Human-resources director. And me, whatever the fuck I am.

I find myself missing being the young guy at the shows. For years I could always find myself as the youngest one at shows at the Magic Stick or the Gold Dollar. It seems like I spent three years of my life being 18 years old. And it was all so brilliant and bright, a time unrivaled in my life where everything was fresh and exciting. Consequently, I wouldn’t want to be 18 years old in the current local musical climate. I am so thankful for being around the White Stripes and Detroit Cobras and Rocket 455 and the Hentchmen, when all of these bands were playing the small bars almost once a month and there were no more than 100 people there to check it out. I just can’t see myself getting excited about a Hard Lessons show in the same way if I was a youth nowadays. Maybe you just make do with the hand your dealt? Regardless, irregardless, I would not trade my time for any others…forget the Grande with the 5 and the Stooges, John Lee in the Black Bottom, Little Stevie at Motortown revue…the late 90’s Detroit rock scene is still where I’ll put my money any day.

Two guys I graduated with walked right past me. I am unrecognizable in my 4-month-old beard and I both relish and abhor it. I had to shout to get their attention. They kept up on my stuff in the Metro Times, agreed that Cat Power’s latest record was shitty. Asked why I didn’t have the Raconteurs on my top ten list. They’d even started a band.

We realized it’d been 10 years since we first met during freshman year of high school. All three of us were now sporting full, admirable beards. Standing there, bearded, the lights brightened to drive the drunks out like roaches, the uncomfortable lapse in conversation amongst old-time friends and newfound strangers was an apt end to a jealous night.

Where has the time gone?