red army fetish

Judy Nylon, now sixty-two years old, arrived in London sometime in 1970. 

Between the death rattle of the swinging 60s and the arrival of glam rock, most of the British Isles - the media would have had one believe - was deep in the grip of a very public mourning over the demise of The Beatles.
 
Beards predominated, as Nick Kent - and assorted terrified children - observed. 

Dense thickets of facial hair deep enough to hide a monkey in.
 
Divorce and therapy became the order of the day. A primal scream or two, if one could gather together enough coin. While up and down the country everybody's mum and dad was stroking their chin and brooding over Alex Comfort's "The Joy of Sex", I was still getting off on "Meet the Monkees"; glueing my fingertips together in the struggle to get an Airfix B-52 off the ground.

Look ma, no prints.
 
Patti Palladin took a little longer to scrape together the airfare. Connecting briefly with Nylon via a transatlantic telephone conversation; leaving New York City three years after John & Yoko moved in, nailed the windows shut.
 
By 1974, of course, the complexion on and around the Thames was a good deal more refreshed. The popular charts were once more ablaze with spots. Teenage acne. Jimi Hendrix was dead, and his closest living relation was a diminutive imposter who had not long since traded his white swan for a metal guru. 

Jim Morrison's beard floated south in a bath tub in Paris back in '71, and by 1974 even Marc Bolan no longer seemed quite so elfin. Of course, by then he'd been on the game for close to ten years.
 
Suzi Quatro from Detroit was in vogue. Paper Lace. Mud. The Rubettes. 

A predatory paedophile called Gadd. 

In hindsight, there was really very little fairy dust being flung around. Snorted. Despite all the glitter. Nothing remotely glamorous. The London which propelled Snatch out of obscurity into more of the same was a soot bricked Dickensian warren of shysters; apprentice Fagins peddling smack on the side; swarthy entrepreneurs from the Midlands resembling Fred West.

In fact. The beards might have been shorn but, underneath the undrneath, it was all still business as usual.

Look a little closer and one is hard pressed to unearth a single genuine teenager lurking near the top slot. Just a bunch of corseted paunches masquerading as puppy fat. Propping the stage door open to usher in an endless procession of wan underage meat.

Between 1974 and the emergence of punk commercially, any blushing roué on stacked heels was virtually guaranteed an audience. Just chauffeuring the Glitter Band radiated enough of a spark to leave an adolescent open to persuasion.

I suspect.

Well. It might not have been Emerson, Lake and Palmer. Butt. A steel capped size nine in the seat of the pants was nevertheless just what the doctor ordered.
 
"I.R.T.", back to back with with "Stanley" on Lightning Records and Bomp in 1977, may have basked a little in the receding spectacle of a sweet jane disappearing into the dark maw of the subway painted on "Loaded", but really it had more to do with those fluoroscent tunnels trailing under Piccadilly Circus; a blinking strip light in Finchley Central.
 
Rumour continues to circulate that The Damned's Captain Sensible makes his presence felt on "Stanley", but so far as I'm aware it has never been corroborated. Exactly who plays on it subject to speculation. Judy and Patti have never openly dispelled the myth, but The Heartbreakers play a later documented role in their fabric of conspiracy.
 
In 1978, Snatch very nearly scraped the bottom of the UK Top 40 with a double A-Side - "All I Want" b/w "When I'm Bored" - featuring ex New York Doll and one time Heartbreaker, Jerry Nolan on drums. It got to No. 54 and promptly sank without a trace. Nylon and Palladin appeared unperturbed.
 
There followed a collaboration with Brian Eno. Another single: "R.A.F.". By then I only had time for Hurricane fighter planes.

In 1983, Pandemonium Records compiled a string of demos and those all too few 45 releases titled, simply, "Snatch". Irritatingly, although it includes versions of the tracks which appeared on the 1980 Fetish issued EP, "Shopping For Clothes" - their final release, produced by John Cale - those versions differ markedly from the (uncompiled) original Fetish product.

The Pandemonium curated mixes are a good deal crisper, more commercial than the Fetish issue. Interesting, but only by way of contrast.
 
Now. I did not buy into this snatch of vinyl first time around. "Shopping For Clothes" passed me by. The following vinyl rip(s), then - so far as I can gather now completely out of print - were cribbed from the now defunct Direct Waves.


▼ SNATCH: JOEY from "Shopping For Clothes b/w Joey / Red Army" 12" (Fetish Records) 1980 (UK)
▼ SNATCH: RED ARMY from "Shopping For Clothes b/w Joey / Red Army" 12" (Fetish Records) 1980 (UK)

a pair of live deuces

Do not contort, extort or otherwise put yourself out. Make no commotion.

The serial MO remains intact, if a little interrupted. By lassitude or intrusion.

Chance.

Actually, it was a recent reader's comment which prompted me to dust off the keyboard and dig out a couple of dirty Brown covers entangled at the bottom of the laundry basket.

Soul Power Biological. Burns whiter than white.

No Yorker, James Chance featured here previously ON THE BLEACHERS regards his 1978 "Off White" recordings; mixed and engineered at Blank Tape Studios, NYC. One more pale Taurean on the cusp of a ram's horn - born plain James Siegfried in Milwaukee, Wisconsin on April 20th, 1953 - the James Brown fixation was self-evident from the start. 

A febrile, albino fusion of free jazz channeling. Co-opted out of the No Wave movement fronted by one-time collaborator, Lydia Lunch.

Stained sheets, indeed.

Despite all this, I was unaware of this pair of Brown and Rosen compositions covered in performance at a show in Paris on the 13th May, 1980. Thank you, Magnus. The LP was reissued on Ze Records, with alternative renditions of the same live set - recorded this time in Rotterdam, June 1980 - made available through the ROIR retrospective, "Soul Exorcism Redux" in 2007.

The initial godfather workout here - "I Feel Good" - is fairly pedestrian and of interest only as a statement of intent. A chance remark. Rosen's "King Heroin", though, delivers on a subcutaneous level informed by White / Chance / Black's own weakness for those "tiny white grains". As Magnus observes: "Standing in smack up to his knees". Or elbows. Where James Brown originally supplied a sermon built on caution and rebuttal, brother Chance returns it past the point of sale. An autographed admission prefaced by contorted alto saxophone.

A welter of contusions.

As performances go, it is claustrophobic. A stunted cousin of sorts to Television's Ork released "Little Johnny Jewel"; stripped of valve, electron gun, phosphor.

An empty glass envelope out of the box.

 James Chance: vocals, saxophone;

Al McDowell: bass;
Fred Wells, Patrick Geoffrois: guitars;
Lorenzo Wyche: trumpet;
Richard Harrisson: drums.

Recorded live Aux Bains Douches, Paris, 13/05/80.
Produced by Jacques Pasquier & James Chance.

▼ JAMES CHANCE + THE CONTORTIONS: I GOT YOU (I FEEL GOOD) from "Live Aux Bains Douches" LP (Scopa Invisible) 1980 (US / FRANCE)
▼ JAMES CHANCE + THE CONTORTIONS: KING HEROIN from "Live Aux Bains Douches" LP (Scopa Invisible) 1980 (US / FRANCE)

FSLN 1 > the armagideon times no. 3

Engineered and mixed by Bill Price.
Version remixed by Mikey Dread.

illustration by steve bell.

▼ THE CLASH: THE EQUALIZER from "Sandinista!" 3 x LP (CBS) 1980 (UK)

after the box, a wobble in space

john wardle, 1981. unemployed and still drowning in pussy.

Disenchanted with the business model for Public Image Ltd., and itching to dub deeper, John Wardle stepped out alone to record a solo 45 followed by an entire LP, "The Legend Lives On: Jah Wobble In Betrayal"; an exercise in the perils of one man's ambition to operate as sole trader.

Promptly accused by John Lydon of 'thieving' corporate material from the "Metal Box" sessions, Wardle was essentially goaded into quitting PIL of his own accord in 1980, leaving Lydon and Levene in a partnership which might have floundered but for the creative focus evident on their co-opted sequel, "Flowers of Romance".

If one employs an objective ear, it would be unfair to dismiss Lydon's claims as wholly unwarranted or pernicious. On both the title track and the infectious "Tales From Outer Space" - two of this outing's strongest tracks - everything from the choppy rhythm to the wavering vocal smacks of "Metal Box" era PIL. Having fought his corner in a protracted legal wrangle with Malcolm McLaren over royalties due from his 'leading role' as Sex Pistol, it must have appeared to Lydon as tantamount to staking yet another individual claim for creative ownership.

Equally, it can be argued that it was precisely as a consequence of uninhibited cross-pollination that Wardle functioned so successfully as cornerstone in the PIL wall of sound; his innate ability to harness raw Dub sensibility - abetted by Lydon and Levene as the antidote to all things Rotten - and transplant it still beating into an all but mummified rock 'n' roll carcass.

In hindsight, given Wobble's farther forays in eclectic collaboration with all manner of musicians, it seems inevitable that he would eventually have opted to resist containment. With or without the attendant pension and blue chip shares.

Composed, arranged and performed by Jah Wobble.
Produced by Jah Wobble.

▼ JAH WOBBLE: TALES FROM OUTER SPACE from "The Legend Lives On: Jah Wobble In Betrayal" LP (virgin) 1980 (UK)

blair witch project, after a fashion

Alan Bennett is drowning in his teacup; a surfeit of suburban semi-detached ennui posing as angst.

A whirlpool in a sweeping - suitably modest - driveway emptied of carp. No koi, then, just cloyingly demure. Petty resentments smouldering under doilies scattered like iced fancies. Or fossils behind chintz curtains.

Well, alright; as per usual it is simply the television to blame. The flat screen banshee in the corner stripped of cathode ray glimmer. The twins are dead. And so is the legitimate ghosting I have learned to endure on a Saturday night.

If Snatch were lost on the I.R.T., we are done. Screwed. A valve driven box with one knob missing. Reeking of Ameretto. Disaronno. Crushed almond over viagra, stiffly anticipating a verbose duel.


▼ THE CLASH: JUNCO PARDNER from "Sandinista!" 3 x LP (CBS) 1980 (UK)

dub weh

cry tuff

Shot dead on home turf in Kingston, Jamaica in 1983 following a confrontation, seemingly, with an opportunistic armed intruder, Michael James Williams - aka Prince Far I - qualifies for an honorary season ticket on the Bleachers; no refund. The findings of any police enquiry in a city notorious for its 'higher than I' murder statistics can never wholly be taken at face value. What is certain is that his death was no small beans. A major presence and pioneer on the UK Dub scene and its influence on more commercial productions, Far I was every bit as cutting edge as the biggest names operating out of Studio One. Razor beats and stroppy bubbles.

Long before the bullet casings became prima facie evidence, the "Final Chapter" was written.

▼ PRINCE FAR I & THE ARABS: BLACK WEH from "Cry Tuff Chapter 3" LP (Front Line) 1980 (UK)

clockers

design by ib.

Long overdue.
This one I intended to feature a couple of months back at least, but circumstances, alas, drew close scrutiny from the relentless ticking of hands.

In short, I f@cked up.

Dating from 1980, this 45 clocked in on the John Peel Show on at least three late evenings between 10 and 12 PM. No small achievement for a self released slab of vinyl cooked up by four possibly disparate teenage first timers; one on the run from a full time date with an offset litho printing press.

Guitarist, Andy - on bass here - was just fifteen years old at the time:
"Think we recorded about eight songs in a few hours in a little hall, straight onto a Revox B77 4-track, the bass-end is rather missing, but it captured the feel very nicely.

I played classical guitar quite well & was much into Bach - Clock came about after I thought the counterpoint of one guitar going up & one down might work ok - & it did. The (Jazz) drummer had some of those flared tom toms ( forget the name ) where the bass version looked like some giant Jagger lips."

Marvellous.

Keith Ostler: Vox Phantom guitar;
Andy Ball: bass; Alan White: Gibson Les Paul, vocals;
Paul Wiseman: drums.

Thanks to Andy for taking the trouble to mail me both the original vinyl and the spine tingling rip.

▼ THE RHODESIANS: CLOCK from "Clock b/w Post Mortem" 45 (Period) 1980 (UK)
OUT OF PRINT

anonymous crack

VS370.

A b-side I've played more times than may be strictly sensible. Stay off the tracks.

Malcolm Owen: vocals; Paul Fox: guitar;
John "Segs" Jennings: bass; Dave Ruffy: drums.

"For Malcolm who lived for the crack - shine on."

▼ THE RUTS: THE CRACK from "West One (Shine On Me) b/w The Crack" 45 (Virgin) 1980 (UK)

PURCHASE THE CRACK + BONUS TRACKS

C-30; C-60; C-90...

Managed by Malcolm McLaren, and fronted by a fourteen year-old Anabella Lwin, Bow Wow Wow was essentially the great rhythm section behind the original Adam + The Ants; drum and bass with a pan African slant. A distant precursor to the controversial nature of blogging and the internet, this piratical celebration of "home-taping" caused considerable consternation and bankrolled outrage within the rank and file of the BPI - British Phonographic Industry - which led to it being effectively black-listed on the UK chart. Once again, too, EMI unwittingly found themselves at the centre of McLaren's machinations.

Anabella Lwin: vocals; Matthew Ashman: guitar;
Leigh Gorman: bass; Dave Barborossa: drums and percussion.

▼ BOW WOW WOW: C-30; C-60; C-90; GO! from "C-30; C-60; C-90; Go! b/w Sun, Sea And Piracy" 45 + Cassette (EMI) 1980 (UK)

PURCHASE I WANT CANDY

cry tuff, holler tuffer

Style Scott: drums, percussion; David Toop: flute; Sowell: lead guitar;
Bing Bunny: rhythm guitar; Earl "Chinna" Smith: rhythm guitar;
Prince Far I: percussion; Steve Beresford: toy synthesizer, melodica, whistle.

Produced by Prince Far I; mixed and overdubbed by Dub Syndicate.

▼ PRINCE FAR I & THE ARABS: FINAL CHAPTER from "Cry Tuff Dub Chapter 3" LP (Front Line) 1980 (UK)

PURCHASE CRY TUFF DUB CHAPTER 3

i'm only sleeping

08/12/80.

This morning I discovered an unsmoked - and relatively unbent - cigarette among the crumbs lurking under the cushions of my sofa.
I am smoking it now. Looking at the hoarfrost melting in the sun from my window here on the twenty-second floor, and pondering John Winston Lennon's December demise twenty-eight years ago.

I considered posting a song to commemorate his death yesterday, but given all those DMCA notices circulating currently I think it safe to assume they are just waiting for an excuse to pounce.

You know the drill. Imagine a number and hum along. Just not that one, please; the post title will suffice.

grafitto 191

grafitto 191.

Kenny & Leon left in a huff

David First: guitar; Barry Halkin: drums;
Steven Bilenky: bass

▼ NOTEKILLERS: SPACELAND CHANT (1980) from "Notekillers (1977-1981)" CD (Ecstatic Peace) 2007 (US)

PURCHASE NOTEKILLERS 1977-1981 (SUREFIRE DISTRIBUTION)

PREVIOUSLY: NOTEKILLERS; PENNSYLVANIA EXPERIMENTAL NOISE

les hommes morts sont dangereux

The first release - a 45 - on Geoff Travis's independent Rough Trade label in December 1977 was not homegrown. He didn't look to London, and he didn't scour the seedy venues of northern districts and boroughs in a bid to fly the flag.

The first release on Rough Trade was Metal Urbain's "Paris Marquais b/w Clé de Contact", limited to a 10,000 pressing. RT 001. Even the song titles themselves proudly broadcast the group's European status and Rough Trade's intention straight from the off. This was no insular enterprise.

Metal Urbain had previously released a self-financed single in Spring of the same year; "Panik b/w Lady Coca Cola" on the French Cézame Cobra label (COB 47004). Limited on that occasion to a 5,000 print run, they were hardly moving into mainstream distribution in signing with Travis, but they were at least travelling in the right direction. Faith was the overriding principle at play. Faith sealed the deal.

"Paris Marquais" was their first and last 45rpm outing on Rough Trade.

Metal Urbain called it a day in late 1979.

A retrospective album, including updated remixes of their British single, appeared on the Celluloïd label in January, 1981. Rough Trade released the LP with a different track sequence and minor mastering alterations in the UK.

This excellent song is from that album. By this time, Clode Panik had retired from vocal duties, as had original guitarist, Rikky Darling.

Eric Debris: vocals; Hermann Schwartz: guitar; Pat Luger: guitar.

Produced by Tony Platt and Doug Bennett.

Dig, Lazarus, dig!

▼ METAL URBAIN: ULTRA VIOLENCE from "Les Hommes Morts Sont Dangereux" LP (Celluloïd / Rough Trade) 1981 (France)

PURCHASE LES HOMMES MORTS SONT DANGEREUX + BONUS TRACKS

wall of voodoo

SP 70401. cover photograph by scott lindgren.

Written by June Carter with Merle Kilgore, and made famous by husband-in-waiting, Johnny Cash.

Stanard Ridgway: vocals, organ; Marc Moreland: guitar; Chas Gray: synthesizer; Bruce Moreland: bass, piano; Joe Nanini: percussion.

I first heard this version on a porn soundtrack in the early 80s. The video footage featured cowgirls with unholstered dildos in a studio rigged to resemble a campfire on a midwestern range. Cheap and rather nasty; it nonetheless did persuade me to go out and buy their LP. Produced by Phillip Culp & Wall Of Voodoo. Engineered by Jim Hill.

▼ WALL OF VOODOO: RING OF FIRE from "Wall Of Voodoo" 12" EP (Index) 1980 (US)

PURCHASE GRANDMA'S HOUSE ON WAL-MART FOR $0.88

baden powell: nosso baden

palminor rodrigues ferraira with 'os originais do samba', 1968.

It seems 'normal service' has been resumed. We have musical accompaniment once again. Hopefully, those earlier rations of some Beer and me were sufficient to keep you entertained.

The following tracks come from Baden Powell's 1980 LP, "Nosso Baden", released on the Atlantic label.

From Loronix:

"Baden Powell's guitar has only the accompaniment of Os Originais do Samba rhythm section, there is no bass, drums or any other electric instrument. It is a late acoustic album, a very common concept today."

The first, "Jongo" - an instrumental composition by João Pernambuco - features just Baden on guitar, but Os Originais do Samba make their vocal presence felt on "Até eu", supporting Powell's small but eloquent voice on a song he co-wrote with Paulo César Pinheiro.

I would like to thank Zecalouro of Loronix from stopping by to comment on last Monday's post from Baden Powell's 1964 album, "Série Autografos De Sucesso No. 2". Of special interest to admirers of Powell's music is the site Baden Powell: Brazil On Guitar, which can now be found permanently under "Bands & Online Resources" in the sidecar links. That Zecalouro - himself the leading source of information on vintage Brazillian music on the net - should single out this fan site for attention, is telling enough.

▼ BADEN POWELL: JONGO from "Nosso Baden" LP (Atlantic) 1980 (Brazil) 
▼ BADEN POWELL: ATE ÉU from "Nosso Baden" LP (Atlantic) 1980 (Brazil)

BADEN POWELL ON CD UNIVERSE

motörhead

that's right...
Having done the backline breakdance for a solid couple of months once, this shit resonates.

My stint as a roadie may have been short lived, but I don't think my back has ever fully recovered. This version kicks ass, as they say.

Take it away, Ian.

▼ MOTÖRHEAD: WE ARE THE ROAD CREW (ALTERNATIVE VERSION) from "Ace Of Spades (Deluxe Version)" 2 x CD (Bronze/EMI) 2005 (UK)

GET IT

freez

freeze, muthaf@kers!

I was never really much of a clubber. Unless you bring coshing teenage thugs into the equation. And that was a long time ago. When I was a mere teenager myself.

So was this one on the legendary independent label, Beggars Banquet.

It reminds me of a brief episode in my youth when I frequented an atrocious night spot on weekends with my girlfriend and associates out in the country. On misty evenings driving out there was a little like a commando sortie in the mountainous regions of a fictional Tibet. The inside of the car reeked of whiskey and spearmint chewing gum. The stereo played horrendous synthesised drum loops ad nauseam.

The music was seldom to my taste, but that was a fitting introduction to what was to follow when we finally arrived ; already hopelessly intoxicated and disheveled from cramming too many people in for the ride.

Actually, it would be more accurate if I were to say I was never really much of a dancer. I far preferred to sit and chain-smoke in a dimly lit corner and attempt to perfect the look of a young Chet Baker. No mean feat considering we share no apparent outwardly physical resemblance.

Of those friends I remember, one of them - a guy I had known since our first day together at elementary school, or primary school as we call it here - died nine or ten years ago of a heart attack. He never smoked and was a fanatical exerciser. We lost touch somewhere down the road but for a long time we were very close. I drank myself into a stupor on the day I heard the news.

This is not the first song I would necessarily associate with my memories of him, but when I hear it played I always stop and think. Shit happens.

▼ FREEZ: SOUTHERN FREEZ from "Southern Freez" LP (Beggars Banquet) 1980 (UK)