More Records … November 1995
Archived
Sardinia
Presents
Hitit Records
I must be a bit of a thickie. The cover of the Sardinia album “Presents” is a play-by-play reference to Led Zeppelin’s “Presence” cover, except the object uniting all the photos is a present, not a fetish. So why did I think, after my first listening, “these guys suck, they don’t know anything about music.” Wrong! Wrong! Wrong!
One has to go back to “Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain,” or better yet, though Sardinia resembles Pavement more than the Replacements, to “Hootenanny” to find an album so enjoyably and difficulty bound up in the history of pop music. Hootenanny, in my honest opinion, is about the smartest completely, overtly referential album I can think of in the post-rock-star history of rock. Queen, The Beatles, Zappa and the Stones, of course, were all masters of this generative paradigm.
Sardinia are Michelle Marchesseault, Marty Green, P.J. Christie and Lonpaul Ellrich; they all play most of the instruments from track to track, so one can’t even pigeonhole the individual members of this remarkable band.
In “Presents” there are obvious references to The Feelies, The Hollies, The Mamas and the Papas, Led Zeppelin, The Band, Leonard Cohen, R.E.M., The Moody Blues, Mazzy Star, Big Star, Sinead O’Connor, etc., etc. But all this reference has been blended brilliantly into a music both beautiful, absurd and angry. The mix is full of noises, from slide whistles to a Clorox bottle being beaten against a cement floor. Thought these subtle noises sound at first like a mess, they are after a little thought, clues. These are not samples, but allusions, Hendrix’s sliding note from ‘waterfall’ becomes part of the rhythm pattern of a song about rain. And the album is packed with little musical references like this. Too cool.
The secret is that this, like many albums, makes no sense if played quietly. So give it a bit of volume—not too much—a nice day and some good beverage of your choice. And don’t expect the shocking overtness of such bands as Pavement or of The Beastie Boys. One might even think of this as an Anton Fier sort of project, except that it is really, really good, and really subtle. —St. Felcher
Heavy Vegetable
Frisbie
Headhunter-Cargo
If nothing else, you’ve really gotta dig what Heavy Vegetable is doing, concocting punky art rock filled with vocal harmonies tangled in complex musical arrangements. Frisbie is their second long player for Headhunter, and takes up where the Undersea Adventures of Aquakitty left off, carving out a unique niche in Cali punk. Throughout the twenty-eight tracks, ranging from a few seconds to a few minutes, the focus is the male-female vocal interplay, whether they’re spiraling around one another, as on “Sad Mud Song” or sharply intertwined, as on “Mushroom Boy.” As rock seems to be going on the downward slide (see Foo Fighters, Bush, et al.), Heavy Vegetable is a refreshingly original outfit, and much more fun than a five pound zucchini. —McGyver
The Velvet Underground
Peel Slowly And See
Polydor
It might be banal to say, but this five CD box set is the only Velvet Underground record you will ever need. It includes remastered versions of all four of the Velvet Underground’s LP releases: The Velvet Underground and Nico, White Light/White Heat, The Velvet Underground and “Loaded,” and features a fifth CD with 25 previously unreleased recordings. John Cale’s Ludlow Street recordings from 1965 (six tracks) and from 1967 (five tracks), six live performances, and seven out-takes from the “Loaded” sessions.
The Velvet Underground are the quintessential American college-to-garage group. They understood that a mixture of beauty, noise and adroit amateurishness will remain fresh when skillful beauty has wilted in the sunlight. This collection brings to light, though definitely not sunlight, a new angle on why the Velvets were great. Sure, Lou Reed could write a song to break your heart, and John Cale still is to avant-garde guard misc what Picasso was to avant-garde painting, but Sterling Morrison, the lead guitar player, is who really shines out in the live track on this release. And the remixes are revelational in that his tone and feel are brought to the fore, more so, oddly enough, than on the original vinyl releases. He wasn’t a great guitar player. But he really was sensible (I mean that in the best possible way) and visionary in his fearlessness with playing controlled amplifier feedback. In the live version of ‘What Goes On’ there is a three minute guitar solo that, through sheer recklessness of volume and feedback, reminds me of Hendrix, and yet its sensibility is more desperate, and not at all cool. It is a musical open vein pumping blood into your listening room. It gives me shivers just thinking about it. And yet there is an evolved elegance to Sterling’s playing that isn’t often mentioned. One hears a crude, big city version of Brian May in the back of such songs as “All Tomorrow’s Parties” and “White Light/White Heat,” or kind of a stripped down Mark Knopfler lullaby blues in such songs as “Pale Blue Eyes” and “I’ll Be Your Mirror.”
Lou Reed said of Morrison, “Sometimes I think his guitar playing is very much like his first name—sterling. It’s involved. And yet it has a grace and elegance to it, even in the fast-note runs. You could play me a hundred guitars, and I could spot Sterling.” I think Sterling Morrison brought to the group what John Densmore brought to The Doors, an original sense of how to add his particular instrument to a sound, which feel simultaneously right, and yet is unexpected enough to feel a little tense and uncomfortable. And it is this insistence on the tense and uncomfortable in the midst of relative beauty and skill which makes the Velvets such a joy all these years later, and why you should buy this set of CDs. –St. Felcher
Barry Black
Barry Black
Alias Records
Okay, the only reason these albums are in the same review is because they’re distinctly non-rock albums with proper names that don’t refer to anyone in the band. T.J. Kirk is four jazz musicians from the Bay Area with an uncompromising love of James Brown, Felonious Monk and Rahsaan Roland Kirk. The three guitarists, including the phenomenal Charlie Hunter, and drummer roll through funky covers of songs from all three of their heroes, including classics like Brown’s “Cold Sweat” and Monk’s “Epistrophy.” Although Hunter’s playing is less in the forefront here than with his own trio, hearing the guy play at any opportunity is mindblowing. The vibe is sort of a cross between Parliament and The Meters—guaranteed butt-shakin’ either way. Whether you’re a fan of the artists T.J. Kirk covers or are just looking for something fresh and funky, this record is well worth a listen. Make that several. Barry Black, meanwhile, is the side project of Archers of Loaf frontman Eric Bachmann. Dark and affected, the album plays like the score to a Tim Burton film. It features a roster of guest musicians that reads like a who’s who of Chapel Hill, MC scenesters (no, actually, nobody from Superchunk) contributing piano, horns, etc. There’s even some vibes on one track. Very different. —McGyver
Gringo
Gringo
Pravda Records
Gringo is a trio from Chicago by way of Missouri. They play music that they say compares with X, but is prettier and more up to speed. Take X, a little NIN, a little, no, a lot of Patsy Cline, and some Violent Femmes and that is Gringo.
I’ll tell you why Gringo is not like X. They are better songwriters—you heard it here first, folks—they know how to turn a tune right on its ear, all the way around, and make it land on its feet. Turning a tune was something X always did half-heartedly—so as to keep their punker crude-entials—sheepfuckers.
There is a concept to this self-titled album, but if I didn’t read the press release, I wouldn’t have guessed it, so fuck that. It’s a John Lennon approach, not a McCartney approach we’re going for here. This is a great batch of songs, some are sad, acidy ballads, some are rattlesnake poison rockers—and they have the authority of production values which are totally yesterday. Recorded on an 8-track in the house of one of the Gringos—does it even matter whose?—you don’t even know their names—it sounds absolutely fabulous. I mean like a good jazz recording—clean, naturally reverberant, huge, and real. What a gem of an album.
Oh, yeah, Gringo is: Leila Vartanian–vocals and bass, Tim Krause–drums and Jim–vocals. So I still don’t know whose house it was, cause I just don’t remember, okay? Buy the damn record and listen to it, maybe you can figure it out. –St. Felcher
Various Artists
Cough It Up: The Hairball Story
Tim/Kerr Records
A Lawrence, Kansas compilation… That’s pretty much what this record is. There’s cool stories inside the CD cover and the bio about how every song was recorded in the Hairball Studio by Talk Farm head guy James Grauerholz. That means nothing to me. This record has such a huge mood though, that it’s scary. Maybe there is something to the story. There are 18 songs on the CD. Two of them kind of suck. The rest are exceptionally good and a few of them are really fucking good. Not to mention William S. Burroughs doing a great little ditty about immortality called “Mr. Rich Parts.” Like I said, this record’s mood is huge. Almost unbelievable. I will be listening to this record when I’m sixty. –Mr. Pink
Kepone
Skin
¼ Stick
Led by former Gwar bassist Mike Bishop, Kepone is a ferocious guitar-driven trio out of Richmond, VA. Going thin on the theatrics and heavy on the aural beef. Skin bursts through the speakers like Lou Ferigno through a Hanes Beefy-T. The cover alone (an etching in charcoal gray stone) provides all the clues to sounds contained within; stark, imposing sounds paint a despondent vision of blue collar life. Mike Bishop’s tortured wail provides a cold sincerity to lines like “I do my wash/I eat my food/I read my books/I lay back down.” Skin is excellent sludgecore in the mold of The Jesus Lizard and the Melvins. –McGyver
Won Lump Some
Clean Hits
Sh-Mow Records
This band boasts of originality. Won Lump Some falls into its own category somewhere between the Crazy 8’s madness and any obscure rock band that missed in the last five years. I’m not sure, cause I haven’t seen them, but I’d bet money this band kills live. They reek of energy. They also reek of diversity. Some is a dance jazz punk in a Clash-y sort of way without the bad accent and spit. This is a hard band to describe, so I’ll stop and just say if you can find this record, check it out. Well worth the price of admission. –Maxx
Vic Chesnutt
Is The Actor Happy?
Texas Hotel
Vic Chesnutt has a unique vision of the world. Example: on “Sad Peter Pan,” he sings, “I’m a reluctant rebel/I just want to be Aaron Neville,” his tweaked, almost childish voice providing just the right touch of realism. Crippled in a car accident years ago, he still manages to play his guitar, writing understated, beautiful songs. Is The Actor Happy? sways between folk and rock, Chesnutt’s acoustic musings accompanied by some sweet electric slide and pedal steel guitar. I could sit here all day and tell you why this album is great, but that would hold you up from getting to the store to buy it, so get to it. –McGyver
Klover
Feel Lucky Punk
Mercury
Capt. America’s Inner Monologue: “Maybe I shouldn’t be reviewing these CDs, they all sound the goddamn same, I can’t possibly continue to compare them all to Green Day, some people like Green Day, I won’t be reaching these people… but it’s true, these fuckers with their Los Angeles-English accents (phrasing borrowed from SLUG publisher) and their phony bullshit punk posing. Surely someone other than me can see some worth through the bullshit, maybe they should have this job. Maybe there’s some subtle nuance to this that I’m missing, maybe the nugget of gold lies within the lyrics, maybe the bio is right when it says “Klover… are card carrying members of the initial American punk assault.” Maybe I’m supposed to have some sort of respect. I don’t know. Well, I guess I’ll just keep writing, what else am I gonna do?” Capt. America’s Review: About midway through the third song, Feel Lucky Punk came out and Sketches of Spain went in. –Capt. America