Monthly Archives: March 2009

the mummies: play their own records!

if you don’t like ugly fuzzing hiss or brain-mangled fidelity stop reading and get back to yr second life rape room. me?  i dig this. the mummies: buncha cheap obnoxious skuzzy bastards.  making dumb-ass lo-fi racket on shoddy old damaged gear.  staggering around like wild buggering drunks wrapped in dirty bandages, spitting fuck you’s at their [...]

acid fascists: are unclean (and gone)

never judge a book by it’s cover. never judge a band by its covers. the kind of things only a goddam fool would say. porn.  the detroit cobras. just two examples to refute such inanities. actually i’m not sure this makes any fucking sense on reflection… anyway thanks to the fella (fellette) who sent me [...]

last days of radio (i shot a man in reno)

…just to watch him die. the very emphasis of the commandment: thou shalt not kill, makes it certain that we are descended from an endlessly long chain of generations of murderers, whose love of murder was in their blood as it is perhaps also in ours. so said freud. ten celebrations in song to our [...]

capillary action: rm hubbert: japanese war effort: cca: glasgow

the cd is in my hand. it is an album called fragments by capillary action. in twelve seconds time i put the cd in the cd player. it’s already playing twelve seconds in the future. it’s june 2006. i’m listening to the album. the noise, the virtuosity. they play merrily with electricity and pianos. they [...]

aereogramme: box set: chemikal underground

so the vaguely related lesson for today is konsumterror.  ulrike meinhof’s defense of the red army factions terrorist shenanigans.  the real terror being, capitalism, consumption, the need forced upon us to consume constantly.  the terror of consumption; not being able to get, being too late to get, or being unable to afford what’s on the [...]

mono: stereo: glasgow

the last time i saw mono was in the sweaty basement of nice n sleazys.  i remember it being so loud i feared my head might burst like an overpuffed balloon.  thankfully it didn’t.  what the fuck would i do with my hats? so tonight squeezed into the bigger yet still sweaty basement of stereo [...]

quinta: my sister, boudicca (or learning to love the illuminatus)

in order to satisfy my sick obsessive lust for compulsive order this really should have been the fifth tartaruga release rather than the fourth.  a sick obsessive lust which is positively sexually dripping with irony considering my fully paid up membership of discordianism. so you’ll all know of the law of fives presumably… the law [...]

jade goody, princess di and tony hart

rest in peace jade.  you are in my thoughts.  you and princess diana.  up in heaven.  awwww.  but not tony hart.  fuck tony hart. beloved childrens entertainer, silverhaired brush-holding artistic visionmeister  from my prepubescent years.  you are worthy only of a page six paragraph or half column obituary.  you are best left forgotten, dusty on the shelf with yr plasticine [...]

why i hate my job (or a daily mail whine to music)

the horror.. the horror…

stinking lizaveta: holy mountain: bloc: glasgow

ah the hair, the riffs, the melvins and jesus lizard songs playing over the p.a…  have i traveled back timewards to my guitar drenched youth?  not only was it free (free sweet jeebus free!) but bloc was transformed for a few hours into the best goddam bar in glasgow.  not that it’s normally not pretty [...]

skullflower: 13th note: glasgow implodes! (not literally…)

i have a synapsefucker of a headache the entire weekend (like the kind got jeff tweedy hooked on painkillers, like the kind got max cohen drilling brains out in pi)  and eerily this syncroniciously creeps into my headspace. skullflower.  skullflower by christ. satan my black ass, steve albini = jim steinman diamond bullets would it [...]

shout at the devil: kid606 vs motley crue

just because it made me laugh… kid606: shout at the devil

enablers: tundra

storytelling reveals meaning without committing the error of defining it. so said hannah arendt. goldring, thomson, byrnes, simonelli are master storytellers. combining post-allen ginsberg beat narratives with amy hempel polaroid abstractions with david lynch-esque cinematic tension with oxbow style destructo mood swings. reductionally what it is, is spoken word.  what it is, is brooding rock. [...]

comic relief, red nose day or the sop to our collective conscience

fuck me do i hate comic relief. i find it obscene. i resent being made to feel like a cross between james hewitt and hitler for stating this opinion, for turning my nose up at the phallanx of bucket wielding happyclappers invading my personal space with japes, stunterry, shitty jokes and bile-inducing positivity. not to [...]

marley & me: a short review

this film deserves to be tied to boy george’s radiator and abused as only a faded bald popstar can. an odious manipulative paean to squeezing out chunks of baby and buying bigger houses. it has all the emotional engagement and artistry of a volvo ad. the equivalent of dog snuff.  waiting an hour and half [...]

aids wolf vs googletube vs rps

or how nobody wins… today i have been mostly watching two interested parties squabbling over the filthy scraps of something that really belongs to neither of them.  while the pirate bay circus drags amusingly on.  i won’t flog this equine carcass as it’s being throughly thrashed elsewhere but… i find it impossible to understand or sympathise with [...]

coming soon by sir tijn po

so before i toddle off to see watchmen (who watches the watchmen?  me!) this afternoon, thought i’d share this morning’s viewing with y’all.  a suitable sunday presentation.  and slightly different in tone and content from alan (it’s nothing to do with me) moores opus, i’m sure you’ll agree… it’s a bit creepy, occasionally funny, rather odd, not [...]

i woke up one morning in may: mississippi records

another collection of crackling history pastpresentandfuture from mississippi records american primitive series.  fast becoming one of my favourite labels.  it’s on lovely vinyl and limited.  as usual. you get fourteen haunted tracks of country blues dirge and hissing folk ghost in the wires.  it’s stark, bloody bones and broken hearts stark.  it’s simply voice old and [...]

c. spencer yeh on ubuweb

whole bunch of freebies on the wondrous art repository that is ubuweb from c. spencer yeh just now.  some solo work, some collaborative stuff with john olson, aaron dilloway, paul flaherty, chris corsano, john wiese and coldplay. okay the last one was a lie. though i’d like to see him noiseburst chris martins’ head like [...]

death: for the whole world to see (drag city)

another week another lost classic one-off singular vision re(re)leased on vinyl.  cheers drag city. the history: three brothers (in the genealogical/genetic sense) from motor city called death (not the chuck schuldiner (r.i.p.) death) record most of an album, sign to columbia, refuse to change their name, the deal goes awry, the album promptly disappears into [...]

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