February 1, 2017, 4:00 pm
And the prize for the most ironic title of the year goes to ...
More turntable wizardry on this CD released on Youth Inc. in 2014.
The Greatest Hits Of The Music
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February 2, 2017, 11:50 am
DEDICADO A NOIRCEUR
Un usuario de Soulseek, llamado NOIRCEUR, me escribió por privado en el excelso programa de descargas p2p preguntándome si tenía este magnífico material configurado originalmente en formato VHS y de difícil consecución a día de hoy. Me comentó que lo puso a bajar en Bitorrent y que durante meses se quedaba al 70%, pero yo encontré ese torrent, lo puse a descargar y en cosa de dos días lo tenía completado. Así que aquí os ofrezco la digitalización del VHS que recogía los conciertos de estos dos célebres grupos, imprescindible material para todo aficionado que se precie.
A DISFRUTAR !!!!
Year: 1993Genre: Industrial, Power Electronics, NoiseDuration: 1:24:54 (51: 02 + 33: 52)
Quality: VHSRipFormat: AVIVideo codec: DivXAudio codec: MP3Video: 384x288 25.00fps 1010 kbpsAudio: MPEG Audio Layer 3 22050Hz mono 31Kbps
Description:I.Genocide Organ1.Death To China III2.Face Of Horror3.White Power Forces4.This Is No Lie5.Elders Of Zion6.Negros In Sky-Wars7.Klaus Barbie8.Patria Y LibertadscreenshotsII.Rasthof Dachau9.LivescreenshotsQuality octavlyaet much to be desired, but considering all the components, the possibility of better approaches zero
Video from the legendary performance in Salzburg, Austria on 27.11.1993. Rasthof Dachau's tracklist not given.This is probably a 3rd or 4th generation VHS rip so the video quality is poor, audio is ok.
Live concerts by both bands. R.D. tracklist not given. Video in plastic case packaged with two booklets (one per band) in paper sleeve.
Video from the legendary performance in Salzburg on 27.11.1993. Released 1994 in 3 editions with one booklet by each artist: 200 copies PAL 100 copies NTSC 100 copies PAL in ammunition-box with camouflage-net
SCHMERZTHERAPIE 93 - GEN ORGSCHMERZTHERAPIE 93 - RAST DACH
Password para descomprimir el rar: STAHLFABRIK
Password to unzip the rar: STAHLFABRIK
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February 2, 2017, 4:00 pm
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February 3, 2017, 10:18 am
Label:
Not On Label – none
Format:
Cassette
Country:
Sweden
Released:
1992
Genre:
Electronic
Style:
Synth-pop, Minimal
A1 Construction
A2 Wishing Thy
A3 Dying Time
B1 You Don't Know
B2 Those Memory Days
B3 Only For Once
a huge thanks to "Human-Being" on discogs for sending me this.
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February 3, 2017, 3:48 pm
To round it all up on the Rudimentary Peni front, we have a guest reviewer,and RP advocate, from the Convivial Cannibal Clan,.....I think he like Rudi P, don't you children?![download?mid=2%5f0%5f0%5f1%5f15660947%5f]()
No More Pain E.P. Rudimentary Peni's last proper release from 2008. If you think I forgot Wilfred with no bassist on or in reality you’re a cookie hard to crumble. Any less and you would have a hum of an old refrigerator. But at least you could tune your instruments by in some soft princely subterarrians mind. If you got that you will need to explain it to me eventually someday so I too may recall. What I really mean is that this one here, without any pain, is at first glance to but the most initiated a sound sleeper. This can happen easily upon anything one has been waiting for and salivating over for years blurred by years. Suddenly to appear one day on a plate set upon a table that turns is bound to be swallowed voraciously. Unattentive before the rushing flow of anxiety can subside from the breaking of the pressurized damn by it's own contained weight in wait and anticipation. But let me skip about and go forward. When after many listens and a million millipedes crawling legs later the grumbles have curled up and all but died. Subsided to waysides and added to the piles of accepted truths I pretend to be panged before. When truth be told it warms me inside and fills voids and small crevice alike like cider vinegar given to stomach acid produces an alkaline sea filled with nay fraught but froth. The calming sea foam waters of youthful summers before the worldly ills willed their way into your direct vision of inescapable consciousness. I have to admit that I already knew that to swear on the Peni equals death. I doubly admit to the knowledge that this would be an instant death swift as it isn't sweet. I was/am/to be a moronic mensch machine it seems to the days end of my reversed youth. A surmiser of inequitable zeros stacked and racked. Drawn and hung, quartered and gutted. Measuring the drew entrails to count the prophecies in their shapes of things which shall come by this way in formidable foe of some formless fornication upon dead virgins on altered slates. A sacrificial pool of all things lost and loved more so because of their absence. Left on the door steps of strangers in towns no map has drawn and whose very names are pronounceable only to those who flick tongues to taste success built upon the sorrows of broken backs and hobbled featherless roll about, blind and confined to wheelchairs after being ejected and felled with newly human bodies fragile to the very earth so they may break. Gravity doesn't subside to grace anymore than the heaven's have a direct affect on the gravitational pull unto this tiny blue speck we call home, easily lost in the pitch of the void. Surrounded and contained, it composes all that is not the aether. What does this have to do with John, Nick and Grant you may ask? But do you listen truly anyways after voicing doubt? Or do you think of only fallables to slight and rise one's own ego and self worth? Done up every which way it is always still the same. And we are left surprised in it's final sum to find it's still a god like damnable sum of zero! Still! Why you ask. For what purpose possibly you must have this be the garnish left for no substance newly prepared but the same after taste of an already fetid taste by way of conditional Dysgeusia upon the mind. Counting backwards I hear by a sentenced admittance to prepossessing an ignorant ear. One not standard but duly equipped with a built in stereo feeder backed by the bliss filled hiss of some unholy-holy anamorphic reptilian of imagined biblical proportions. Grotesque as it is shaped and twisted by unseen sources unrecognizable compared to any perceivable truth held as recognizable. That I hear it all day long from rise to set, from lows through peaks is surmountable to any suffrage imaginable but thinking straight any bounty befallen upon the mind is nothing more or less the same. Only viewed from stations separated by perceived distances in concordance to one's own placement. Befitting or askew. It is most likely I truly believe up to you. Not to so much change but more in the failure to recognize vibrations and resonances. Deaf as a doorknob I think they say in far off parts of the world which you are not familiar with. This album is a sleeper because it slides by the listener and quickly. It's simple down progression of chords is as basic as a band with rudimentary in their name should be some would surmise. If they were of small wit and dimmer inner enlightenment. Or had your parents humor. In reality this is a great Peni album from their third phase in sound (fourth if you count the Magits) that include 'Echoes Of Anguish', 'Underclass' and 'Archaic' as well as this depressible little ditty. So you may think this is dark and gloomy and your parents are going to think you're suicidal if they hear or read the lyrics sang. Nick Blinko is such a tortured soul and as schizoid as they come you may say. Well maybe he is I've never met the guy. There is an ocean of misery between us. Filled with actual oceans and too many people along the way for any despiser of the human race to endure. But just because a claim is made or words said do not make them truth or with out their context being misunderstood. The semantics of language is an enemy to sardonic and cynical thought. Comedy is misinterpreted by those with nay but serious souls barren and drab in their automaton daily gear grindings. So of Nick's purported mental state one wouldn't and couldn't be learning that based on these songs nor the lyrics nor even the claims from the man himself. Remember it's never too late nor any day is it impossible to wake up as an entirely different person and to never be what or who you once were but in passing dreams or brief flashbacks quickly dismissed. I heard about a guy once who woke up as a cockroach. And then there were others who burned all the books where this had been told to in confidence for reasons even sillier than that of the purported cockroach anomaly. Which is allowed to exist as reality? Which is deemed preposterous? Which monstrous? The mind is an uneven blade. Naturally dulled and without gleam. It takes hardened hands and keen skill to shape and sharpen. Polish and shined until it lusters in pure darkness of its own source. With a point as sharp as the tongues gathered in conversation at Agora in ancient times. Nearly all these songs and a good deal of much of their catalog of gloom has actually been penned and plucked by the one named Grant Matthews. Yup. Grant Matthews the unassuming bassist who in more likely a reality is the core individual most responsible for keeping the Peni flame alive and burning well enough through the years to keep the games playing along to the off beat paths of the always guaranteed new disenchanted youth being sprung forth in brooding packs daily and at an exponential rate. Even songs lets say from their most cynical and stark raving 'Death Church' which you swear had to be the by product of old sick Nick more often than not was mostly Grant. The beauty and what I find most endearing about the partnership which is Peni, is their seemingly complete lack of inflated ego at all. Or so it appears to me anyhow. A single fan separated by space and some time zones. Maybe I'm right. Maybe I'm wrong. I'd rather not know. The mystery is the allure and I shall say that again and again. Fact less are many of our so called facts and knowledge over this band that it is near impossible to get the same story twice ever. Peni is well aware of this and by no shorting of strong wills I'm sure have continued on in silent repose. To the nays of some but to the cheers of the silent majority whom keep to themselves and have always been immediately attracted to one or all elements of this band only to have it grow by the years spent wondering and imagining and filling in their own stories for lack of attention gained into the private lives of it's members. Nick's lucky I'm in southern California or I'd loiter about his dwellings just as those wretched curious miscreants whom haunted Syd Barrett in his house on the hill days spent in self exiled alone time. So naturally lack of public corrections and statements have led to facts being derived from as far back and up a ways inside dark recesses of our own asses. Pinkish palaces to keep heads too tired or cold to leave the warm but cramped corridors of denial and ignorance. Risks of suffocation or retardation due to lack of oxygen to the brain not even enough to talk one out into the fresh airs of clarity. that I wouldn't be surprised if it was all culled out by carefully inserted tubes by sordid nurses who wash hands with naught but bodily fluids splashed. The reuse of and unsanitary swapping out plasma for colostomy bags are frowned upon but by whom? The elastic plastic shoot 'em up junkie's of faux pas youthful fountains? Turned over to reveal truer yet identities of a vandalized urinal. Naked as a porcelain god but dressed down in scraps through scrawled initials of unreal hound dogs bringing home the dug up bones of it's long dead master. Whom have tried and toiled at or about degenerated activity in non duality. In vain or vanity either leads to the trickle of the anointed nectar, this gnosis, this stream. Silently staining the gene pool in a luminescent hue like piss dribbled down the leg of blue jeans soaked through. All this non concerned to force an epic enema of very mean proportion onto the sad eyed crass kids because they were smelly and ate dapper for breakfast in between huffs. i remember being told when younger that Nick Blinko used to live by a graveyard and as a kid would dig up bones and put them back together like some ghoulish kin of Gein, in sorted fragments. Hogwash. I am so far off in a flight of ideas let me pull the madness in.
This album is great its simple yet catchy. It's lyrically gaunt and grim with little substance and only dark sentiments. Though if one see's through this casting of ominous shadows and thinks mercurial thoughts one may just see a smile in place of the assumed sneer and for some ephemeral moment it is whimsical cheer and music from distant merry go rounds forgot from youth in wistful recall. Dare I say it but they almost sound like they are having fun. Even frolicking I will go as far to exclaim. Pox on my head but they sound happy to me. Songs like 'Doodlebug Baby' are possibly products of an itchy schizophrenic Kafkaesque nightmare one could climb clouds to claim. Though I swear you would hear a snickering like choir overhead ever so faintly. Even the opener with lyrics ripped out of the pages of T.S. Eliot's Wastelands is more ode than malodorous in it's intention. So goes the closer and what a closer indeed. In any other hands it could have been foppish and as boring as it would be pretentious. Thee ol' 'Pachelbel's Canon In E' which some who you would think to be in the know pointed out that 'Canon in D' is more common than 'In E' is of little to no consequence and as near non sequitur as relative aesthetics are to theorized relativity. The fact this piece believed to writ around the seventeenth century had fallen into obscurity or swept into dustbins only to be rediscovered in the 1970's and gain in popularity to the point it is as recognizable as any anthem or god forbid top of the pop charts record holders is likely the inspiring tell tale behind it's tongue in cheek inclusion. But I'm as likely wrong as I am long winded or rather narrow yet long in fingers as I peck away at keys like seeds to the well preened bird. Late to rise but not filled with worms either. There are seeds a plenty that go by unconsumed and left never to sprout. The possibilities are endless. Congratulations for making it another half decade to scrape on by hand me outs. With stagnate upturned palms unmoving and expectant over some force of animal magnetism to pull the loose change from pockets and purses through their powers of self pity and pungent pores clogged with filth and folly. You earn nothing through begging without mendication and mental meditation through fortitude and balance. Buy another patch your fabric is showing. You walking human billboard spawn of the modernized hippie bastard. So hate hate if you must or find that you can. For what you hate is all that you shall ever be. Words are the sinister sister to mankind's brotherly barbarism of violence and blood shed. Semantics are pure prejudices beyond spectrum unto all things. Separating and assigning. Labeling and qualifying. From birth to death we just babble on. It's no surprise the felled towers were given such a supercilious title as Babylon or the egg before the chicken. Both trite and a steamy bowl of tripe with secret ingredients secreted in squat knowledge kept hidden out back in the old abandoned bog sheds of yesteryears. black and white half an hours worth of these bloats effort of maybe a month's worth of work out of many more unconcerned. Do they deserve our admiration... absolutely. Could they try harder and give us more... who fucking cares. Do they owe us anything at all ever again... NO. Will a part of me die when it is finally a coffin note that is struck instead of basic bar chords by them and theirs... undoubtedly. Do i feel anything I have said holds a candle to their mystery... one would hope. But pessimists aren't supposed to do that. So listen to this and have a tummy ache in one's heart. Draw the stupid faces upon the clowns and jesters of life, dyslexic and upside down. Be jolly down deep in your bleak battered speech and wear dark colors. Say existentialist phrases as you feign in your soul for divinity. Be a miserable wretch with naught but disdain for your fellow man. By manes of lions we measure the beastly gristle. Not in girth but by outstretching our own falsities and failures. A heavy burden is so wearisome it must make thee mangled and disheveled. Then they scold with the hot blooded pastels of their master Hieronymus Posh by all things in a box. Pure dross! But it isn't what it is. Is what it is, really that which it is trying to convey? Undecided. So here's the last bone to be thrown amongst the savage and insatiable packs of the dog breath ones whom walk by and stand on hinds. This shall make your fun time organs tickle like sands down the narrow canal of a shapely hourglass. It won't be long now before another. No joke is funnier than seeing the indigent, whom mope about in usual off pitched whines, rear up ugly heads as shivers down spines erect them attentive. Hear if they haven't yet and by all times excited still when it's heard that Rudimentary Peni has announced another short album E.P. shall be released into the wilds shortly on and in the Southern most tundra's no doubt. The Loder ghost stays vigilant by virtues alone in spirit. Well and thriving from diligence applied long before. As it carves out paths pragmatic and pure in intentions learned by them and passed through us that prick up ears just enough to catch winds fleeting by no mere chance. No date has been given. But there is a claim, yet only that of a title, 'The Great War'. I wonder which could this be in reference or rather in tandem with. I can only hope Nick has begun to dream of dreams again as pill bottles empty down piped drainage spouts. Adapting a new persona in that special touched in the forehead by that holy ghost of some spiritual regurgitation. Some regal king this time or warrior emperor of bygone eras and hysteria driven battles of histories greatest being the reference respectively. One can only and ever does hope i suppose. May the trumpets sound as a duck is released in a gestation of shambolic piece. Like shit through a goose if I am let down by the buckshot of my own mistake. I can only pray the atheist god is a kinder one still. I'm going off cliffs now way past beaten paths. So it goes it's been told to me and I with a hearing disorder go off to fiddle with digits on a calculator. Punching in negative numbers as a formation of meditation and relief to all those compounded interests at large. What have I said? Nothing. What do I leave? Nothing at best. What do I wish? A Happy new years to you all. It's the year of the cock. The human race should out beam the sun by this one. The orient luster of it all is mesmerizing. I guess. Like pearls before swine or the missing hands of an amputee clock still ticking away the time alone in it's own geared head.
--Sumguay S. Nodiril
(Misanthropic Schadenfreude Pond Scum, occasional Positivist)
Tracklist:
A Handful Of Dust 1:20No More Pain 1:36Eyes Of The Dead 1:35Prayer For The Unborn 1:41The Death Of The Author 1:30Grave Object 1:44Doodlebug Baby 2:11Annihilation 1:55Sublime Fantasy No. 1 2:08Pachelbel's Canon In E 4:16
DOWNLOAD painlessly HERE!
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February 3, 2017, 4:00 pm
Back into the more familiar territory of guitar and vocals ...
CD released on P.S.F. Records in 2006.
やらないが できないことに なってゆく
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February 3, 2017, 6:47 pm
Label : RRR / Statutory
Year : 1990
Country : US
Format : C60
French musician Brume has a very wide and expansive discography, mostly falling under the genres of drone, noise, and ambient (frequently overlapping). This recycled tape is no exception. The cassette that was used seems to be an Techno/House/Trance (?) compilation and some parts of it seep through the overdub. I kept these parts for authenticity purposes and for the fact I'm not entirely sure their actually by Brume himself or not.
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February 4, 2017, 4:04 am
![10fuckingstars-wordpress-com]()
linki w komentarzach / links in comments
richard pinhas
oren ambarchi
cuneinform records
![10fuckingstars-wordpress-com]()
Od dawna chciałem wrzucić na blog Orena Ambarchiego. Nie wiedziałem jednak, którą płytę wybrać, bowiem Australijczyk wydał – solowo bądź grając z innymi artystami – ponad 60 albumów. Dodajmy do tego single oraz EP-ki i wyjdzie liczba porównywalna z natężeniem tweetów Lisa o Kaczafim.
Niech będzie „Tikkun”, wybitny materiał, który Ambarchi nagrał ze swoim starszym, też genialnym kolegą, Richardem Pinhasem. Wystarczy spojrzeć na dyskografię Francuza: również się nie opierdala.
A „Tikkun” to piękny kraut.
***
Garry Winogrand
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Kategoria:
dl,
foto,
streaming Tagged:
cuneiform records,
garry winogrand,
krautrock,
oren ambarchi,
richard pinhas,
richard pinhas & oren amarchi,
space rock ![]()
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February 4, 2017, 11:52 am
Seguimos re-compartiendo material perdido en HAND BEANIES / SPAIN PAIN, el blog de mi "cosinot" AUTODOLOR. En esta ocasión se trata de más material de NEO ZELANDA, o lo que es lo mismo, ANI ZINC y su derroche creativo. Pero vamos a recordar las palabras que AUTODOLOR apuntaba en su blog en julio de 2010:
Con el nombre de "Laboratorios NO", Rafael Flores creó uno de los primeros sellos independientes de cassettes en España, siendo su tercer título este que presentamos hoy."Radio sabotage" es el primer trabajo de Ani Zinc, con la colaboración de su amigo Rafael, donde las cintas manipuladas son omnipresentes. Se puede escuchar la versión original de "Paso hambre", pero también los primigenios esbozos de "No digas nada", "Si esto es amor..", "Ritmo tropical", etc, que serían plasmados con posteridad en su álbum "Mix Zelanea".El sonido es bastante precario, así que hay diferencia de volumen entre un canal y otro. No hay indexación de los temas, ni títulos en las gráficas.Este rip está realizado a partir de la cinta original master que Javier G. Marín conserva. He tenido que cambiar la carcasa del k7 para su correcta reproducción, ya que estaba amarrada. Con paciencia, bobinándola a mano, he sustituido la carcasa por otra con cuerpo de metal, y mejores esponjillas para su mejor adaptación al cabezal magnético, y tocar algo el azimut de mi player Teac. Sólo he quitado muy poco de hiss, y rebajado las frecuencias subsónicas armónicas,y bla, bla, bla...Falta escanear la portada entera, donde aparece el logo de laboratorios NO, pero ahora no tengo el escanner, y he usado la que Rafael puso en su blog, así que la semana que viene, bla, bla, bla...Javier también me envía una bobina abierta con la grabación de uno de los dos únicos conciertos de Diseño Corbusier, así como videos, que la semana que viene, bla, bla, bla...
¡Ya está bien de escribir memeces! :DAhí queda esta joya llamada...Radio sabotage
DISFRUTAD EN FLAC !!!!
NEO Zelanda* – Radio SabotageLabel: Laboratorios NO – LAB.NO-003Format: Cassette Country: SpainReleased: 1982Genre: ElectronicStyle: Experimental
Tracklist:
A Radio Sabotage (1) 28:08B Radio Sabotage (2) 28:17
MEDIAFIRE
MEGA
GOOGLE DRIVE
Password para descomprimir el rar: STAHLFABRIKPassword to unzip the rar: STAHLFABRIK
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February 4, 2017, 11:59 am
Label: Song Cycle RecordsCatalog#: CY989Format: Vinyl, LP, AlbumCountry: UKReleased: 2017/1976DISCOGS
A La Mariée Mise à Nu Par Ses Célibataires, Même. Erratum Musical 25:30realization by Petr Kotik, S.E.M. ENSEMBLEalto flute: Petr. Kotiktrombone: James Kasprowiczceleste: William Lyon Lee glockenspiel: John Bondler
B1 Voices: Erratum Musical 4:35Marcel: John BondlerMagdalaine: Petr KotikYvonne: William Lyon Lee
B2 La Mariée Mise à Nu Par Ses Célibataires, Même. Erratum Musical 12:15realization by Marcel Duchamp player pianoThe player piano roll was realized by Martin Kalve and Petr Kotikrecorded in Bu alo New York on Steinway player piano
B3 Musical Sculpture 4:46realized by the S.E.M. ENSEMBLE
Another legendary album which was issued on LP by Multhipla label, "The Entire Musical Work of " Marcel Duchamp realized by Petr Kotik and S.E.M Ensemble. Work planned and composed in 1913, based on chance operation. Recorded 7 May, 1976. B2 is a track for player piano, recorded in Buffalo, New York on a Steinway player piano. In the turbulent years from 1912 to 1915, Marcel Duchamp worked with musical ideas. He composed two works of music and a conceptual piece -- a note suggesting a musical happening. Of the two compositions, one is for three voices and the other combines a piece for a mechanical instrument with a description of the compositional system. Although Marcel Duchamp's musical oeuvre is sparse, these pieces represent a radical departure from anything done up until that time. Duchamp anticipated with his music something that then became apparent in the visual arts, especially in the Dada Movement: the arts are here for all to create, not just for skilled professionals. Duchamp's lack of musical training could have only enhanced his exploration in compositions. His pieces are completely independent of the prevailing musical scene around 1913. "Song Cycle Records present a reissue of The Entire Musical Work Of Marcel Duchamp, originally released by Multhipla Records in 1976. The Entire Musical Work Of Marcel Duchamp is a collection of experimental pieces composed in 1913 by the legendary artist, and executed by Petr Kotik and the S.E.M. Ensemble in 1976. Employing chance operations and non-musical sounds, Marcel Duchamp's musical oeuvre predated some radical concepts developed forty years later by John Cage. Presented here on 180 gram vinyl. ▲
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February 4, 2017, 3:49 pm
Label : RRRecords / Statutory Tape
Year : n/a
Country : US
Format : C45
Another one of these. This time it's from Tapes Of Wrath, who seem to have been a one-off project from one of RRR's locked groove conceptual pieces. Not much more to say about this 'un, collage noise madness, taped over the greatest hits of Sir Elton John of all people.
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February 4, 2017, 4:00 pm
Extraterrestrial electronics released on P.S.F. Records in 2005.
宇宙に 絡みついてる 我が痛み
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February 4, 2017, 5:00 pm
In another stylistic twist, a drum kit provides the source material for the improvisation.
CD released on P.S.F. Records in 2005.
この気配 封じられてる 創まりに
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February 5, 2017, 4:00 pm
Simply brilliant.
CD released on J-Factory in 1997.
息をしているまま
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February 5, 2017, 10:51 pm
Volvemos al universo de ODAL, el proyecto sonoro del holandés PETER ZINCKEN, nacido en 1962, de dudosa ideología pero con un bagaje impresionante en el terreno de la música electrónica experimental. Sus sonidos los produce a base de artefactos, sintetizadores, tratamiento de cintas, samplers, grabaciones de campo, etc., con un resultado que nunca deja indiferente. La que os presento hoy es una cinta C-60 lanzada por el sello INDUSTRIAL THERAPY UNIT, fechada en 1987 y que reúne todas las características sonoras típicas de este personaje holandés.
Disfrutad...
TRACKLIST:
1- Onzuiver Bloed2- Impure Blood
MEDIAFIRE
MEGA
GOOGLE DRIVE
Password para descomprimir el rar: STAHLFABRIKPassword to unzip the rar: STAHLFABRIK
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February 6, 2017, 12:58 am
As much as the idea of Crass depresses me, they did however have a very independant label, which amongst the dross,and awful Crass stuff, released some classic records, like Rudimentary Peni's "EP's" compilation, and a singles collection by The Cravats called "The Colossal Tunes Out".As we all know, The Cravats had a saxophone in the line up; so what happens if someone plays a saxophone in a rock based format?...yep...they get the Jazz suffix applied to their genre label.In the poor unfortunate Cravats case, they got labelled as 'Jazz Punk'!!?? Have these people ever heard any Jazz?X-Ray Spex never got called 'Jazz Punk' did they? Niether did Theatre of Hate! Not even Jazz Goth was mentioned.(I'd love to see an actual Jazz-Goth group,can't think of a more incompatible coupling).Jazz encompasses the art of the 'unexpected note',and an uncertain quota of improvisation;not just any musical ensemble with a sax in it. Neither of these traits can be applied to The Cravats, but they did have a sax player, amusingly called Svor Naan, who's sax playing followed the X-ray Spex template, playing melody lines rigidly adhering to a predetermined song structure.The unexpected part of The Cravats was how unique sounding they were amongst the Post-Punk herds.Mainly due to their Dada-esque leanings, and The Shend's unhinged vocals.This compilation's high points are undoubtedly "You're Driving Me", and the paranoid classic "Rub Me Out";previously released as singles on Small Wonder and Crass records respectively.One of the stand-out and most relevant acts of the early eighties.Tracklist:
A1 –Off The Beach
A2 –Terminus
A3 –Firemen
A4 –The Station
A5 –Working Down Underground
A6 –I Am The Dreg
A7 –You're Driving Me
B1 –There Is No International Rescue
B2 –And The Sun Shone
B3 –Ice cubists
B4 –Rub Me Out
B5 –Daddy's Shoes
B6 –When Will We Fall
DOWNLOAD these colossal tunes HERE!
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February 6, 2017, 3:34 pm
The Cravats were one of those often ignored 'Peel Bands'; the ones the DJ seemed to favor and benefited from regular invites to record a session for the BBC.
So they managed to squeeze in four sessions between 1979 and 1982.
The first three sessions were classic cravats, but the fourth features a changing line-up and signaled the the end for the group. Soon to morph into The Very Things; who weren't very good.
These sessions, however feature great alternate versions of such post-punk classics as "Rub Me Out","Precinct" and "You're Driving Me".Who could possibly want for more?
Track Listing:
31/07/1979:
1-Welcome
2-Who's In Here With Me
3-Pressure Sellers
4-Precinct
5-Live For Now
23/09/1980:
6-Still
7-In Your Eyes
8-Triplex Zone9-You're Driving Me
10/08/1981:10-Ice Cubists
11-Rub Me Out
12-Terminus
13-Firemen
06/11/1982:
14-The Station
15-Working Down Underground
16-There Is No International Rescue
17-Daddy's Shoes
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February 6, 2017, 4:00 pm
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February 7, 2017, 3:11 pm
The Cravats released some fantastic singles between 1978 and 1982; but when it came to the Album I remember being a bit disappointed in it's lack of 'Hits'.Most of the tracks on here are mere fillers by Cravats standards;another entry in 'the would have made a great EP syndrome'?"Still", "In Your Eyes", stand out track "Triplex Zone" and one more, would have formed an outstanding seven incher.Having said that, compared to the thirty odd years of shite that followed, this record is a work tantamount to genius.So to highlight this fabulous groups ability with the shorter format, I have adhered the three singles that preceded the album onto the file as much needed bonus tracks.The rest of their superb singles can be found on "Colossal Tunes Out!" as featured a couple of posts back on this very blog.Tracklist:
1-Still
2-In Your Eyes
3-Welcome
4-Pressure Sellers
5-One In A Thousand
6-X.M.P.
7-All Around The Corner
8-Ceasing To Be
9-Gordon
10-Live For Now
11-Tears On My Machine
12-The Hole
13-All On Standby
14-Triplex Zone
BONUS TRACKS:
15-Gordon (single Version 1978)
16-Situations Vacant (Gordon B-side)
17-Burning Bridges (Single 1979)
18-I Hate The Universe (Burning Bridges B-Side)
19-The End (Burning Bridges B-Side)
20-Precinct (Single 1980)
21-Who's In Here With Me (Precinct B-side)
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February 7, 2017, 9:00 pm
Somber and static tape loops and drones by the sadly-obscure and under-rated Nick Henry/
Silvum. In the years he was active,
Silvum was quite prolific, releasing several albums per year from 2005 through 2008, then his production slowed and he seems to be inactive today (though I could be mistaken about that). "Oceans" was one of the earliest albums, but his style pretty much started out fully formed. Released as a CDR in a numbered edition of 40 copies by the artist's own label
Raoul's Left Ear in 2005.
Silvum - Oceans
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