WOEBOT

Legal?

Picked up the wicked "Salt Shaker" Remix. (scheming) If I stitch this together with the original then I can get it to last fifteen minutes!

I was complaining to the bloke behind the counter that it was a clean version. He explained that all the stuff on Killah Kuts, the notorious bootleg label who have put this out, is always Radio-friendly for more often than not it's been given to them by the artist behind the record company's back.

Apparently Lil' Jon leaked them Usher's "Yeah" cos the label were trying to steer Usher in a different direction and weren't intending to release it. "Yeah" ends up going to Number 53 in the charts as a radio-friendly bootleg (!!!) blowing up innit, and the suits have to get their act together and sort a legitimate release out. A legitimate release which then ploughs on to Numero Uno.

Puts a different complexion on illegal music doesn't it. On a similar tip I picked up "Decadanse" a very nifty collection by one DJ Gilles from a vendor in town (naming no names!!!) quite aware that it's just a fecking CD-R. Wait till Mark K-Punk checks out the tracklisting, he'll be beating down my door:

Look you can even drop DJ Gilles a line (snicker). Incidentally the other two comps he's pushing, "White Funk" and "Cold Wave" aren't as great, and if it was up to me the stuff wouldn't be mixed. If I'd had the chutzpah I'd have put my Launderette Compilation out like this.

Erbert.

This is great. Thank fuck Herbert's got over his big band thing. "Goodbye Swingtime" had to be the worst, most pompous bit of crap that came out last year. This is a more muted exploration of the best parts of "Around the House" and "Bodily Parts." Is that what that green LP was called? I can't for the life of me remember. Less rubbish faux jazz, less irksome manifestos, less mucking around with utterly irrelevant found sound. If someone informs me it's actually pieced together from recordings of him and Dani baking bread I'll scream.

Apparently Herbert's new EP is great too, or at least that's what the folk at Soul Jazz said me when I picked this up. Yeah I go there. They were so busily telling me they undercharged me by a fiver. Usually I'd come clean, but was unsure whether I'd given them two tenners or...aw fuck it. It's quite a relief to be able to say nice things about Herbert cos (as I never tire of telling people) he's a close mate of a close mate. Yet more incisive music journalism at Woebot. Tomorrow I'll be doing a track by track breakout, except I won't.

Bedroom Disco.

Forget the micro-categories for once. Italo Disco? Let's just call it Disco and be done with it. Italo as a conceptual grouping must be one of the weakest I've encountered anyway. No it's not necessarily Italian, no it's not necessarily European, it doesn't seem to have a sensible window of time (extending back and forth nearly fifteen years), it blurs deeply into Hi-NRG, New Wave Electro, Disco and even House. I'm fed up with the term frankly; if you're gonna categorise do it with panache. It's a bit of fraff innit. Likewise "Grime", but for different reasons. Grime is a crap term I've decided, and henceforth I will be referring to music of it's ilk as Garage. Not UK Garage, just Garage. I've never had trouble confusing it with the Paradise Garage or Nuggets/Pebbles variety in any context, so why should anyone else?

The JPEG above is a scan of the label of Rephlex records latest (re)-release. the Legendary Black Devil Disco Club EP. I think they're shaping up to be the world's greatest reissue label. Hipper than Soul Jazz (by a few nautical miles) and unlike Strutt/Nuphonic (RIP) packing a serious roster of new acts. OK (ahem) only 2 or so records under their belt, but doing proud. I hope they follow this path. You got a problem with that? You got a problem with me supporting them? Good.

The Black Devil Disco Club record has picked up a tranche (well a slither then!) of notoriety right here in the Woebot comments box. Here and here. It's been on constant rotation since I got my copy, a wholly 'riginal masterpiece of Bedroom Disco, up there with later examples of the genre The Black Dog's "Virtual" and KMA's "Kaotic Madness." Lean back and feel the mattresses on the walls. The tracks go and on, pedalling sheer gourgeousness for ten minutes a side, grooves which twitch and resettle, voices doubled and masked by repetitive synthsaxsquelches, hidden depths blinking open issuing striating bleeps. "Timing, Forget the Timing" and "One to Choose" bleed into one another, an upbeat and a drawn breath and we're in the same low-curving re-shaping trance-arc. Wicked.

The whole thing reminded me of nothing so much as this:

Which shares with the B.D.D.C. the same sonic scuzz and after-fuzz; I mentioned this in the Ra piece. Disco but nasty. Euro (White) Trash on a dancefloor field-trip. I know next to nothing about it, and there are only the merest fragments of data covering it on the net. Brilliant.

And check this, a bit of Throbbing Gristle-style Disco proper! I'd like to hear Kevin Blechdom do a cover of this. Awesome.

The best review the Junior Boys will ever get!

Svengali Nick Kin was round my house the other night wafting this bit of vinyl under my nose. Couldn't give me one, needed it for the radio stations. What did I care, he'd already given me the promo of Birthday on CD? We rested it in the corner of the room and watched it. That night Nick also graciously gave me a CD copy of the Jbeez album. It's fookin great.

Birthday. I could have downloaded it off the web. The promo would have sufficed. But what did I do? I went down the shop, plonked 6 quid on counter and demanded my very own pristine black glossy EP.

Idol Tryouts: Ghostly International Volume One (Ghostly)

Electronica. It's having a bit of a crisis I reckon. Stylistically fractured (Glitch/Electro/Spazz/Micro/Post) floating free of the kind of socio-cultural undertow that underpins scenes like (Grime/Ragga/Glitz). Rather than pin themselves down with distinct imagery and discrete releases they're washing out the market with endless minimally-designed 12"s, EPs, CDs with any micro-divisions within the genre a nonsense which the artists themselves ignore. Everyone turning a hand to a zillion different styles: "You see I am also very funky as well as (hand to brow) intelligent and (jumps up and down on the spot) sporty and (pulls funny face) abstract."

Ghostly International of Detroit came to my notice as a result of their Tangent 2002 Disco Nouveau Series, a very handy survey of Electroclash. The "Idol Tryouts" compilation is a label sampler of theirs. They may be the first Techno label of that city without historical connections to Detroit Techno. I'd say straight away that I favour the idyllic sounds vastly over the other offerings here. For example Charles Manier's "At the bottle" is a little "Electrocliche" (TM). Human League ahoy! Vintage drum-machines pock and chee. Also I didn't like Matthew (media darling) Dear's "Some New Depression." Which wasn't atonal enough to be thrilling. I checked the cabinet but just don't have the drugs to make this work properly. Ditto Twine and Kero and James Cotton's "Help me think of one" spazzcore. Would these tracks work innna de dancehall. Nah, I'd be kipping in the bass-bin.

Nicer by far are the contributions by Ann Arbor's Midwest Product. These dudes smell of rock. It's in their veins! They can't run from it. They don't want to run from it. "Laundry" floats on a synth-ated guitar riff (almost sounds like picking, almost like a sequencer) though at the spangly Pastels chorus it becomes clear which side of the tracks they hail from from. Their "A Genuine Display" a bit more curious, G Funk squiggles in a pastoral setting. Kiln's "Ero" was grown on the same farm, this could be off Springsteen's "Nebraxas" or a Steven Stills' b-side. Not exactly a flattering comparison, but nearly. This kind of post-rockery possibly more enticing when hailing from Germany. The rock thing also contributes to my least favorite track of the LP, which I heard first last year, Dykehouse's "Map Ref. 41º N 93º W", a hatchet job of a Wire cover version, adonyne where the original was gnarly.

The best track is outputmessage's "Bernard's Song" a masterpiece in fact, and on a constant loop here this Autumn. Reminiscent of Plaid at their most sublime and a real tear-jerker. Watch this man! Proving conclusively that electronica, while in a bit of a mess, is still capable of producing exquisite wonders.

Richard X: “Presents His X-Factor Volume One” (Virgin)

Richard X bathing in the light of a thousand flashbulbs. Puffy calling in production favours. This a producers LP like B.E.F's "Music of Quality and Distinction, Vol. 1" or Timbaland's "Welcome To Our World." Now styling himself as a Jam/Lewis for the Noughties. X calling in a cast of bonafide celebs: Kelis, Pulp’s Jarvis Cocker, and er Tiga; but more intriguingly the cheap UK reality TV cast-offs of Pop Idol and Pop Stars, Liberty X and Javine, Pop-groups (then) on the decline, The Sugababes, even Flying Lizards ("Money") veteran Deborah Evans-Stickland.

This where my heart warms to his strategy, the bootleg king (“Being Scrubbed”, “Dancing with Numbers”) genuinely in love with the abandoned and rejected, delighting in reconfiguring the tainted as glamorous, toying with the conceptual boundary twixt garish and Vogue-cover. Even the most glamorous delights, Kelis singing the SOS Band’s “Finest” rubbed up bootleg-style against Phil Oakley’s “Electric Dreams”, have echoes of the gutter. “Finest” notorious in the UK as the shiver in the spine of Foul Play’s “Finest Illusion”, interestingly also a copyright battlefield. This angle suits him well everywhere but on the two Evan-Stickland tracks which “succeed” in recontextualising Deborah as mildewed debutante. Their “Walk On By”, I skipped.

The "X" sound wrenching rubber and chrome-piston perfection. For neophytes (who dem?): sonic signposts like early Ultravox, The Human League "...", Imagination and Mtume's "Juicy Fruit" might be helpful. Certainly worth investigating.

“Cool As Ice”: The Be Music Productions 1983-85 (LTM Records)

Flicking through the liner notes to this record on the LTM label I came across a comment from Tony Henry of the band 52nd Street referring to his underground hit: “Cool As Ice doesn't have a colour to it. That's the best thing about it, that it could have been done by a black or a white band." Cough cough YOU WISH mate! But therein lies the charm of this collection of single produced under the auspices of the 4 members of New Order, the collision of lofty aspiration with reality. All these tracks smack of handbags on the dancefloor, girls with preposterous haircuts sipping babycham and pub discos with mirror balls. These tracks play the underground to Human League, Heaven 17 and ABC’s limelight fandango. The “Be Theme” itself (worked up by Peter Hook) like the soundtrack to a very low budget war movie.

52nd street’s antique electro, whilst sounding like it was recorded in basement in Oldham with egg-crates on the walls, sounds eeirily p-reminescent of Kevin Saunderson’s Inner City collaboration with Paris Grey. On ‘Cool as Ice” they aim for frosty hauteur and yet come over like supermarket assistants. That’s cruel though they’re not alone in frustrated cosmopolitan yearnings, Quando Quango’s “Love Tempo” springs to life on the same conga intro as Arthur Russell’s Treehouse/Schoolbell though it’s quickly transparent they’re more Pigbag than Jellybean. But Mark Kamins ended up producing them! And their Mike Pickering eventually convinced the public with M People (same “tack” deeper foundation cream).

Marcel King’s “Reach for Love” is allegedly Shaun Ryder’s fave factory track and yet Marcel (a low-rent George Benson) sounds like Pitman’s enchanted uncle. He’d never afford Simon Lebon’s yauct. He’d have killed to make a video! Even pastier (aw bless!) is Life’s “Tell Me” with its ghastly, deeply naff, trilling vocals.

What Scot, and former Josef K singer is doing in Manchester is a mystery. Hear him wailing on “The Only Truth”: “The only truth any more are the words I sing in this song...”, you’re gonna have to work on your lyrics bro’. The synth line has a bagpipe timbre. The outro a spaghetti junction pile-up of melodies. Egg on your cake?

It’s not all affecting desperation. Section 25’s “Looking from a Hilltop” (incidentally the mix you want) was HUGE at the Paradise Garage. Propelled by a truly startling Acid bassline. EPIC written all over it, monotonous in a manner quite unlike most jump/edit electro. No cuts here but fading interplaying textures. Also interesting are Les Disques de Crepuscule’s Thick Pigeon and their clubfooted “Babcock & Wilcox”, and Nyam/Nyam’s “Fate/Hate” unflustered by the twang of his Mancunian accent, rolling Morodor stylings (proto-Mondays).

Various Artists: Newtown (AI 2003)

Since Warp’s “The Pioneers of The Hypnotic Groove” (Warp 1991) the label sampler has been the handiest and most pleasurable way of digesting electronic music. Many of the shortcomings of the single-artist post-Techno LP are remedied. The necessary genre hopping required to sustain interest levels is undertaken by artists best suited to their chosen diversions; the label itself provides the project’s aesthetic glue. Recent classics of the form include Schematic’s “Lily of the Valley”, Carpark’s "Wanna buy a Craprak?" and Kompakt’s 1-5. London’s AI records have just released what may be an addition to this hallowed clique in the “Newtown” sampler. Tracks range from the stop-motion hip-hop and spoilt textures of ADJ’s “Mashup”; to Andy Freer’s smack house epic “Super Galaxo” which rides the Basic Channel signature sound over stun bass and racing hi-hats. From Claro Intelecto’s “Delete”, post-Detroit Techno with it’s Man Parrish handclaps closing a sweet ping-pong riff, bass undertow and re-doubling drums; to Joe’s “Capiolani” 2 cms of rolling nu-electro with it’s nicely spliced phrases and pneumatic low-end. While it’s misleading to reflect on the geographical location of the label (a collection of artists from round-the-western-world), this ear hears the funky electro edge which tends to characterise UK Techno (we’re “Clear”-ly back in “The Temple of Transparent Balls”). Only smatterings here of the infinite loops which define the stark vistas of “Europe Endless’s” Micro-House.

Various Artists: Teutonik Disaster 2 (More Rare and Rockin’ German New Wave Punk and Funk 1977-82) (Gomma)

Conventional interest in German musik leapfrogs the eighties focussing on what Ian McDonald (RIP) called “Krautrock” and the 90s wave of Arty electronica produced by the Mille Plateaux rhizome. New Wave Germany produced heaps of stunning acts: DAF, Les Liasons Dangereuses, Les Vampyrettes, Pyrolator, Der Plan, Einsturzende Neubauten, all fruits of Conny Plank and Trio (Yes! Yes! Yes!). The uber-hip Gomma label, who brought us the Anti NY compilation, here serve up their second instalment of lost tracks from this era, an unapologetic mixed bag of Electro, Neu Wave and the odd bit of bierkeller pfunk bound together by gothic austerity. I was amazed how little interest was generated by the first compilation which included INCREDIBLE tracks like The Car-Men’s “Schlaraffenland” (atonal sex kitten atop clipped funk) and Exkurs’ “Natur” (Blixa Bargeld in motorik setting rasping and wheezing). Same gripes apply about the second volume which sports a total dearth of information about the tracks which (almost*) sparkle with equivalent lustre. Highlights include the phonetic English and huffing drum machines of Instant Music’s “My Boy”, (Young Marble Giants trapped in a corridor) and Camilla Motor’s “Gefahr Im Tivoli” (jack boot on the wrong foot). This music is the conceptual twin to the great NYC No Wave rock experiment, you’ll not find icier chops anywhere outside a butcher’s refrigerator.

*buy Volume One!

Give me a Dhol Beat!

Bloggers at Desi Beats: 1xtra Birthday Bash Monday August 11th 2003.

First review filed? Heronbone and k-punk had that glazed "I AM ABSORBING CONTENT" look from time to time, so with any luck they'll be mad at me for beating them to the pinch. Though presumably Luka would render his impressions as feral poetry. Respect also to Cooper who showed up out of the blue. No fellow Bloggers spotted. We did look for other socially crippled white people, but no, just gorgeous tawny sisters with flowing hair and sikhs in crisp white shirts. I'm beginning to look like those "too old" dudes who you'd see at parties "exercising", nah I fitted right in in spite of my conspicuous pallor. I keep telling you I'm dead trendy yunnuh!

There was a huge degree of excitement in the air. A tangible sensation that, as the event was beamed out live on Radio One, that this was Desi culture making it's mark on the mainstream. Certainly Panjabi Hit Squad, one of whom is gleefully introduced as the man teaching Craig David how to speak Punjabi, are red hot right now, working their way from Mariah Carey and Ashanti to Keith Murray. This from Kodwo Eshun who, in spite of his huge appearance fee, pulled a no-show: "Desi's a diss/ slang that snobbish RIs - Resident Indians- use against NRIs -Non Resident Indians ie Brit Asians Indian-Americans -the whole Indian diaspora", he made the point that it's another chapter in the sub-cultural tradition of "embracing the insult." Jazz, Punk, Gabba, Desi. It's a great starting point for any genre.

If Bashy culture is a glorious transcendence of the fake, imported music with the real mixed out, a dutty mash-up of musics that'd only share a stage in the UK, then Desi is an almost prismatic many-splendoured refraction of street culture. In a sense everything that's great about bashy, the inauthentic, is amplified and spun into whole new geographies by Desi. It's like my fave Glaswegian delicacy, curry sauce on chips.

After about half an hour I found I couldn't stop dancing. Desi Bhangra is pitched at a twice-walking-pace riddim timed exactly around the falling and re-organising of limbs. It's a divine formula that bewitching sitar loop, a roll of dhol then BASS. Factor in the helium-pitched hypersexuality of voices like Lata Mangeshkar or Asha Bhosle, the doyennes of Bollywood, and yo' ass is shaking. Since the days of Bally Sagoo the drums of Bhangra have come to match the brushed-metal perfection of Hip-Hop and Garage. No more sloppy wood-block beats, Desi r-r-r-rolls. Flashing lights, waving arms, cuties ring-dancing, dry ice, whiskey, all blurring into a no-time no-place ecstacy. And still you're twitching.

There's a shade of formality to Asian culture. They're trying to shake it off. They're maybe even embarrassed about it. A seriousness, earnestness, tidiness. But that's great. Notice how beautifully the event is choreographed, how Punjabi Hit Squad manage the rush. Rewinds aren't Jamaican-diaspora-messy like those of Semtex now the archetypal bashy DJ (who does a kool set), they're immaculate. You almost want to bow. Desi Highlights include Jassi Siddhu ("Reality Check") who's just back from Nairobi. He's joined by twin dhol drummers live on-stage. Woo! If this was a drum and bass night, with a live bass-player (snicker) I'd be cynical but here this is coming direct from the Bhangra Wedding bands, and it's done, as with everything in Desi, in a joyfully uncynical manner, you're just swept along in the enthusiasm. Also a wicked live performance by the ravishing Ms Scandalous, who stretched her tune (was it "Hai Hai", guffaw, c'mon I'm doing well here!) over 20 minutes. I was weak at the knees. Though the blogsterati all concluded that Jay Sean, the Asian so-called future of of UK R'n'B would do as well to climb back in his box. Back in yer box mate!

Heartless Crew are more reassuringly grimey though they fit the Desi agenda. Mighty Moe is that curious thing an Arabian who MCs in patois, a true fake. Out of the gate they rock 3 versions of Diwali, any notion of faithfulness to Garage proper is out of the window. Heartless floated Mark Ryder's "Joy" the late 90s Garage re-rub of Tainted Love, Shy FX and Apachi Indian's "Original Nuttah", a stack of Wiley riddims and their own classic "The Superglue Riddim". Heartless are shameless showmen, and maybe this reluctance to cleave to a straight Garage set is much to do with the fact that the crowd would tire. Bushkin strips off his purple flowery towelling tracksuit top, gets his washboard out for the ladies, swaps with Fonti on the decks. It might not be as seductive as a show as the Bhangra crews, but Heartless lit the party's wick.

Walking eastwards pissed with Luka, breakdancer extraordinaire pontificating about varying hybrids of lichen, a gang stopped at the lights in a saloon. That squeaky Superglue riddim on a tape. "Oh yeah!" I waded towards them, "Yeah we saw the Heartless Crew tonight", confused but cheerful conversation ensued. The lights change. "See ya mate!"

Messthetics.

Took delivery of an astonishing package yesterday from Chuck Warner's Hyped2Death organisation, all 8 of the Messthetics series. I say all, but the series is organised alphabetically and there is a HUGE gap between "E" and "R", and I understand that Chuck is having to go legit and therefore this may never be plugged. If I were you I'd get thee hence before that point and secure these volumes (and the Homework series) sharp-ish.

"Messthetics" is an astonishing body of work, you'd never imagine how many D.I.Y. punk and post-punk singles got made by gangs of losers from Dundee, Coventry, Birmingham etc etc. It makes a very strong case for viewing that era within the same frame as American psych-punk and UK Ardkore, such is the overwhelming fecundity and "can-do-up-and-at-em" spirit. Surely to do with abandoning the major labels. There was no need for this lot to require the authentification that a 5 year deal with Sony bestows. Parrallels with the Nuggetts, Pebbles, Back to the Grave and Rubble are inevitable, strengthened in part by the rockist slant that characterises the music. That might sound disparaging coming from me, though I'll admit I'm scraping the surface at the moment, and actually what I've heard today has been distinctly un-rock, current fave being The Rest's "Raga" London 1980, which is the split of the early Beta Band. Also with such a quantity of music any broad impression becomes like a tint through which one sees more individual currents.

The only other comps which can even begin to hold a candle to Messthetics are the "Instant Pop Classics" series of two, which chronicled the same era lovingly, all one-shot-DIY-losers, but which were limited to 500 and disappeared quickly through the cracks. I know other rock pals of mine Jay Strongman and Dan Setzer snaffled copies in San Francisco and New York, and actually I got mine shipped from Japan so they must have been spread (albeit thinly) across the globe. See if you can find 'em, they've got awesome cover art and lovingly collated rears, little snapshots of all the 7"s sleeves. My own Launderette effort is definitely pitched on a less obscure terrain than these comps, but it's more tightly focussed. I stand by it, it was through the gate pretty early. Mention must be made of the recent Rough Trade round-up, personally I don't know why they bothered slinging in all the new stuff, all this linking of the two scenes is, I think, over-stressing the equation. It's lazy and boring. Why does a music which draws on the past for influence suddenly get packaged so tightly with it. You never heard compilations with Jesus and the Mary Chain and The Velvet Underground on them. While I'm not a huge fan of the new stuff, I believe it should be allowed to stand on it's own merits. A similar charge could be levelled at Gomma's (excellent) Anti-NY comp, you didn't need the modern remixes there fellers!

All this has made me wonder why there has yet to be a solid compilation of the Ardkore era. Yeah I know about the millions of comps of this era, but they're all bucket-shop cheap nasty efforts, with little respect for the material. Crazy innit, I'm like the saddest git in the world, I mean "lovingly-packaged-ardkore" have you ever considered such a wholly contradictory thing.

TWANBOC Sells Out!

Marcus at Rephlex sent me a copy of The Bug's Gun Disease EP. On the face of it an extremely generous gesture. It's smashing in red. I've painstakingly ID'd it for the CDDB.

Now in receipt of my first promotional record I am no longer a reputable source of untainted music business info. It's all payola, back-handers and bribery from here on in. (I accept all major credit cards.)

But sheriously folks, it's a great record, The Cutter's voice does NOT sound like "spent knicker elastic" (actually Old Testament gruff as opposed to Street Corner ferocious) and the production is noice noice noice. You see, you don't believe a word I say any more.......

Fallacy.

Too Shabby,
Too London Bashy,
Pushed around Cars with a scratch on the chassis,
Left-hand drive with the German plates,
With the Lock broke down it just ice the cake.

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Fallacy’s Big N Bashy is something like a revolution. Or at least a new chapter. The man’s interviewed in the excellent free mag FWD. He says hey that’s a lot to place on one fella’s shoulders. Those lines above send shivers down my spine. Bringing back looping drives through the metropolis spliffed up in beat-up motors, (always) soon-to-be-nicked bassbins locked on hard-left.

I LOVE this track since I saw it on MTV Base, with its thrifty anamorphic-stretch DV video. Busting with hookers in shiny black leather pulling obscene dancehall moves. Our man Tubby T (gave us a coupla plum Sticky tunes on the UK Bounce tip) with his eyebrows shaved in stripes coming on all young/old with the denatured Gregory Isaacs melody line. Fallacy SO confident with Eastern Hospitality.

We KNOW bashment is a shady promotional gimmick. We KNOW Dizzy* is on a different tip- but admire the promotional crew’s chutzpah. Fake UK Platinum Rap. Too right its bloody dodgy mate. It’s a dutty street crime.

Last Eastern Connection show I caught they played not one UK Garage track. Just a fashionable pile-up of Ragga and Gangsta Soul with a likkle MC-ing on top. Why do I riff on this slowing-down of UK Rap tip? I heard a tune last November on Mystic FM (in the car) :“Slow, sounds almost like ghosts-era Japan/Yazoo with really moving inner city rap ("believe what they tell you in school, you only get one chance")” with a mnemonic “I love…” spoken riff. It was one of those alternative-futures white labels that disappears between the cracks. A garage dubplate, but that slower pace decompressed both the music and the rap. Inner-space opening out. All that’s here with the Fallacy tune (OK more Scorpio-scratch in the sample, but close, close!)

All this for £2.99 at HMV.

*Ditch the stylist mate.

Avant-Folk Drubbing.

Jon at Astronaut's Notepad sent me a handful of 4 CDs (all the way from OZ!) in the Mesozoic era when Dinosaurs roamed the earth. I’ve dragged my heels and dragged my heels and grown a beard and cut it off. Australia drifted away from the land mass Pangea. The Mrs has been away (with her Mum) on an extended Easter break so I’ve had the time to BLOG IT UP BABY!!!!!! I’ve been out on the piss with me real mates too (a lot…groan holds head…TOO much) in case you worry I sit here chained to this machine…..I work fast kids, be like me, work fast too. And I wanted to dignify Jon with a proper reply to his stuff (publicly natch). Jon’s a very smart dude (buy Careless Talk Costs Lives, cut out his stuff and then toss the mag in the bin), he’s also tough as old boots, and he actually asked me to be honest here. So I have been.

The music in question is what Jon (or was it me?) called Avant-Folk. It’s a revival of sorts, and a refusal of sorts. Whatever you think about it. Its an interesting phenomenon. Here goes (rubs hands)

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Thuja: Silly Pompous Bells and drones, neither mystic nor menacing, wheres the off switch for that amp, bedtime chaps!

Blithe Sons; The Hurdy Gurdy Men in da infinite celtic revival (yay)

Hala Strana: Sound like a bunch of Morris Dancers on Mogadon

Thee Floating Birthday Children: er……… ditto

The Muons: Elegant Byrdsy floating, let down by the stoner on vocals

The Franciscan Hobbies: You’re kidding right?

Markus: Popol Vuh without Herzogs fat monthly paycheck. Still playing stone circles.

Kemalliset Ystavat: Nippons at least going head-first into the fray. Hilarious cosmically intoned deep vocals over caterwauling fray, (DRAGS NEEDLE ACROSS RECORD.) then (That bit at the end of It Aint Alf Hot Mum them where the Sergeant Major goes SSSHHHAAAAAAAAT UP to the guy on the sitar)

Avarus: Well this is surely a scene……all these groups sound the same. This stuff was recorded in the crypt of the local church with the other bands microphone (in the corner). Distant-sounding badly-played guitar (quite amazing, ineptitude you don’t get to hear all that often) and distant-sounding badly played borrowed church organ (quite amazing, ineptitude you don’t get to hear all that often).

Maher Shalal Hash Baz: What! A studio! Straight away listenable. Hey they’ve got girls this lot. Maidens in long dresses with plaided hair. Hello! Bubbling water fx Damo Suzuki style vocals. Silly words (I never give a toss anyway). Yeah this is OK. (Listens to next track)……..er that’s the same. (Next track, I'm sooooo generous to this gang) There's some Elizabethan square-dance style thing going on here, with Cacophonix the bard from from Asterix on flugelhorn. (next track) MOR Ballad……er right that’s enough.

Alasdair Roberts: I’ve actually met this guy. He was singing these 13th century ballads on London Bridge Will Oldham style. I gave him 20p, then on second thoughts I went back, took all his earnings, and kicked him in the balls. Not that I condone violence of any sort.

Fursaxa: More Amon Duul (that’s Amon Duul 1 not Amon Duul 2) styled waxings.

The Idatrod: Acoustic finger-picking (I used to like this stuff aged 16…..what was I thinking?) with that screech/creak as the guy reaches for the next chord. Pale Peter Paul and Mary Style wafting group vocals. TERRIBLE violin playing, the guys trying to snake around to keep this out of focus. If you cant play mate, fuckit, we don’t care…let it all hang out.

Hall of Fame: Jim Hall style picking. Nicely recorded female voice. “Oh the boredom slipping slowly” er right. Quite Isaacs/Badalmenti actually. Pretty……but I couldn’t sustain interest too far. That’s interesting their next track is a radically different drone mash-up. Oh no that’s just the Intro. This lot are OK too.

Six Organs of Admittance: 12-string plangency.

Jackie O MotherFucker: In the context quite impressive. Sounds like a rusty rattling 16th century space-craft (full MEV reference intended). I like the gratuitous sonic fx. Very free-form but in a (sub)harmonic way. Must be good live (wink).

Lady E Quartet; More free-form brownrice rambling. Its SOOOO tempting to say this stuff was done better by the old hairshirt crew, but it probably prompted precisely the same reaction at the time, (DEEP PROFUNDO BASSO) “Get a job!”

Daniel Carter & Jomf: Ditto, but with an actually very cool desperate psycho vocalist. I like him a lot.

Joshua: More ponderous Fahey style fingerpicking (Fahey’s playing was actually quite sparkling and pretty). Whispered Vocals. You get the drift (pun not intended but welcome)

Vibracathedral Orchestra: The name sez it all. Droney Conrad-style viola, fluttering flute? Clearly up to its chin in influence from the La Monte Young 1965 outfit.

Sunroof: Like Jackie O but pitched higher. Same dilapidated low-fi sonic fetish. Bells etc

Richard Youngs: I’ve actually met this guy. He was singing these 12th century ballads on Waterloo Bridge Alastair Roberts style. I gave him 10p, then on second thoughts I went back, took all his earnings his guitar and floppy hat, kicked him in the balls and then pushed him over the edge onto a passing silage barge. Not that I condone violence of any sort, but occasionally it can be a crude but effective means to an end.

Tower Recordings: Folk Scene LP. Now I can see why Jon rates this and gave me the whole LP. And I'm assuming this is NOT a compilation but the work of one outfit, though the name sows confusion here. This really is extremely good. Indeed I would suggest anyone reading this get a copy of this record. It’s that brilliant. Seriously. Amazing how a range of tactics, instruments and approaches can in some peoples hands suddenly come alive, gell, make true sense. Its both genuinely cosmic and very affecting. Like a wistful hippy Position Normal. I particularly like the singing they do as in “I guess I’ll get the Vapours”. These people are true individuals, not in the least derivative. BRILL. LAVVIT!

IG Six: Parlour Tricks and Porch favourites LP. This is good too. A bit silly. Nah its bollocks.
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Which in conclusion brings me to Simon’s (oh mentor!) recent championing of The Animal Collective. I have Avey Tare and Panda Bear’s 2001 “Spirit theyre gone spirit they’ve vanished” which is exquisite. Tinkerbell synthesisers aftertrailing flight-of-foot chromatic drums and fly-in-a-bottle vocals tinged with hard-disk editing. I’m gonna name that influence in one (puts down pint, adopts Jockey Wilson poise, squints right eye, a firm but fair hand-action) Van Dyke Parks “Song Cycle” (Bullseye!) But you know what, the line between that and something like this Tower Recordings LP (BUY!) especially on this Campfire Recordings (ahem acoustic on the back porch) LP is, well, slight. Looks like you’re gonna have to eat that 10” cardboard hand-drawn Japanese import there big man! TWANBOC striking a blow for Beatniks around the world against the Uber-Yob himself (probably having totally alienated them earlier in the process....oh well) The Animal Collective are doing an in-store at the Rough Trade shop on 9th May and according to Dave of the Animal Collective: “In case you are interested we are also playing in Brighton at a festival on the 10th” I’ll be out the front of the shop at dawn in my camper van and open-toes.

Me, Me and The Light of Saba.

Has it escaped your attention the supreme irony of one of the world's greatest living writer-philosophers dedicating his energy to writing music journalism (vapid nonsense) about reggae compilations (junkily repackaged sub-mainstream nonsense). I swear to you, I is TOOOOO GUTTTTAHH!

You might recall somewhere in my pathetic, paranoid and self-engineered fight with Paul Meme that I gave some credence to the compiling and reissue work which Honest Jon's have been up to recently, which has almost eclipsed the artistry of Berlin Rhythm & Sound reissues of Wackies. The man behind the operation is Mark Ainley, but they've also roped in designers like Will Bankhead (Massive Attack) and got Von Oswald (Basic Channel) to do their re-mastering. Their Unity sounds compilation was stylish, an unlikey "london-centric" rake over the embers of that label's Sleng-Teng-era digitalisms, the true foundry of Jungle and point-zero for later SUAD/Ragga Twins stalwarts Peter Bouncer and Deman Rockers. Though maybe the tracks themselves didn't quite hold up. I missed the very interesting looking Lord Kitchener record (Van Dyke Parks held him in the same high esteem as Beethoven). Their Heart of The Congos Congoman 12" seemed a little pointless, the Carl Craig remix was so cautious and literal it added precisely nothing. But anyway, all good really so far (ha ha).

However I've got problems with their latest darling. They've built up quite a lot of froth up over their Light of Saba reissue. We've had 2 teaser EPs of material, the first of which featured their (uncharacteristic) masterpiece, Saba in Dub, which sounds like nothing more than a bit of peak-period anadigital Mouse on Mars so perfectly honed are it's sumptuos waveforms.I've had Steve C's rip of his Light of Saba Sabebe LP for some time now. Steve (the fiend) gets all toothy when he mentions it and starts drooling at the very thought of his owning this HOLY GRAIL of reggae. I however don't get it, I don't get it at all. To me The Light of Saba encapsulate nothing which I like about Reggae. I should explain:

The Light of Saba's sound is practically THE MISSING LINK between Community Jazz and reggae. What's Community Jazz Matt? Community Jazz is everything from Sun Ra downwards me old mucker. Community Jazz is Phil Cohran, Strata East, Leo Smith (who actually converted to Rastafarianism), Brother Ankh, Eddie Gale, Marion Brown, Julian Priester, some of the less bloody of BYG/Actuel's Parisian Collective mash-ups, etc. It's not really free jazz, tends to have a discreet groove lurking in the background. Indeed Kool and the Gang, some members of which washed up palying with Ra, occasionally got quite Community Jazz-ish. Musically it's the interface between Jazz-Funk and Free-Jazz.

Back in the day of Giles Peterson playing the Wag Club, when The Wire carried some (very un-)cool dance bop as it's concession to commericalism and Straight No Chaser had just started pimping Donald Byrd to student hipsters I believe some Community Jazz would have been on the playlist. For those chaps in fez's to frug to. Things like Pharaoh Sander's Prince of Peace would actually be danced to, and danced to IMAGINATIVELY. Almost makes you want to vomit, eh! Just as Acid House was melting us down into machine parts. Well actually its quite sweet innit. Athletic young men jumping four feet in the air, right hand clutching bowler hat to head etc.

And I bet you that THIS is the real reason why this Light of Saba LP is being reissued. Dudes have been stroking their chins for nearly a decade going MMMMM I wish Rob from Galliano would lend me his Light of Saba LP, I hear it's the missing link beween Community Jazz and Roots Reggae. And surprise surprise who release it in the end (in an elegantly packed double pack with RUBBISH cover art) but those beatniks in disguise at Honest Jons.

It wouldn't take long for me to put together a paranoid soul-boys-taking-over-the-rave-empire diatribe starring Kirk DeGiorgio with Honest Jon's as the Dark Star. So here goes: What else have they given us but James Lavelle, former counter employee! It's clear to me now that all these comps (especially the Unity one) are subtle tactical mission statements aimed at turning liberated ravers into beard-stroking beatniks. It's like they're saying to us (well me at least), "Aah but don't you see how your aims are at source those of the Beatnik! Peter 'Raving I'm Raving' Bouncer is in fact a rootsy soul man not an AvantYob at all."

What's good about Reggae? It's an endlessly recyled restless modernism. It's a synthesis of voodoo and cheap technology. It's got CHOONS. Not it's posture, not it's internationalism (works best always as infinite localism), not the impact of other musics on it, not it's perfectionism, not it's classicism. All of which are in abundance here. Though seriously I urge you to buy the record so that you may better understand what I'm dribbling on about here.

Norah.

Daughter of the living embodiment of Hindustani music (Ravi Shankar, dudes). That's some heavy shit to negotiate. Norah has decided that the way forward is to forge some superficial-sounding, I didn't say superficial, cocktail jazz with west coast space rock overtones (listen to the solo record by ex-Mamas and Papas John Williams, the wolfking of LA, the record Dylan copped the cover for Desire from). See Norah at the piano, and while her band nod and smile at eachother (tell them to concentrate and stop larking around like sad twits), Norah looks maybe embarassed or worried at her "lite" music. "Heavy" is finger-bleeding ragas.

I like "Don't know why", just like I like California (the enemy, but what a great place to be!). It buzzes in one ear and out the other like James Taylor. She does need to pare down the instrumentation a bit, especially on the newer single. I'd like to hear Slint backing her, they did a minor key thing which was jazzy but they'd have to be quiet mind, none of their Mahavishnu Orchestra theatrics!

DND Delight.

DND. Who are they? What do those forbidding initials stand for? Deep 'N' Dark? Deadly 'N' Destructive? Dave Nick and Dan? Doris Natasha and Daniellle? Whatever it's tempting to view them as a Garage anachronism, a 2000-era US R'n'B remix project, now that we're all blinkin' ardkore rappers. DND have two classics under their belts, first the slamming "Reach and Spin" remix (caned to death for years on the pirates) with its skippy beats and lolopping acid squelch a track that sounded like a rude bwoy in a Porsche overtaking and undertaking on the M6 the tyres gripping the road at thrilling speeds. Then the totally dynamite "Diamond Rings", with its likkle rap loop, also belting out of the gate like a greyhound on it last race.

And guess what they're at it again. The totally f**kin amazing "Down on Me" remix of Ashanti. OK I admit it, I don't have a problem with the remix thing. People have said of Garage: "Oh No, another bleedin' remix", and yes I suppose it contributes to some people's perception of Garage as a music without it's own centre. But if you're a wee bit cleverer you can appreciate that well yes this music is "junk", anonymous white labels, bits and pieces from one hit wonders (no lasting stars), commisioned remixes, sporting a complete lack of interest in packaging, but that's what makes it alive and interesting. It's a big bog of seething life. What would we rather, and I know I'm going to make enemies here but here goes anyway, Horsepower Productions?

"Down on Me" is practically the "Aftermath" for the Noughties. I don't mean Tricky's "Aftermath" either, you've got to take that Garage Rap head off (briefly), but Nightmare on Wax's "Aftermath". Ashanti ripped from her warm R'n'B backing is dropped into a bleak wasteland of smearing pulses and fast-forward snares, cos that is where her head is at. She's lost in a deep frightening love dependant on some heartless beast (played here by Ja Rule) pledging herself in a way any man knows, in spite of her looking as hot as hell, is almost designed to alienate reciprocated affection. "Boy you got me, I will never leave...." over and over again. She's history! She's gonna be inconsolable too, and guess what, you won't be able to take her down the chippy and cheer her up. She doesn't like her beer warm like that Gwyneth Paltrow, she's too good for you and she knows it. It's a classic panic track and no they didn't use a sample like N.O.W. they actually got paid to make it..........

The Hard Grey Truth?

Very much looking forward to picking up the Soft Pink Truth LP. Their PromoFunk EP would have been in my top 10 of last year, if I'd had the alacrity to compile one. I certainly wouldn't have got it on the strength of it being a Matmos offshoot- but it's so much more than that n'est-ce-pas? I won't go into the music from a perspective of history/influence here in any depth, see Marcello's masterful portrait, however I've a couple of musical observations.

What singles it out to my mind is it's compositional strength. There's nothing "tracky" or haphazard here and maybe that's what people identify as being 80s-Retro about it, beyond the clear hallmarks. It has abandoned the minimal drift characterising 78% of Dance Music since Phuture's Acid Trax. We get 10 ideas here not 2. The four pieces on PromoFunk are built of distinct blocks of harmony and dissonance, (Pink) Lego Bricks in base multiples of four, buttressed together with a real flair for musical structure - we have intros and codas, chorus and verse, point and counterpoint . At first you struggle to get the logic, but soon you're hanging on the changes, waiting for that gorgeous bassline to kick in again. It reminds me of my coveted Black Dog 12"s and their elaborate structures, which seemed almost quaint at the time.

To add a slightly less hyperbolic twist I would also say one thing. Despite the fact that the Matmos boys have almost perfectly (deliberately, cleverly, temporarily?) camoflagued themselves as a Dance "Act", my excitement for the EP was mildly tempered by hearing it wedged amongst other "Pink and Purple" tracks on a tape I compiled for the wife before Christmas. It has a slight lack of that elusive quality "Fatness", (BASS!, mid-range generosity, breadth, swagger, whatever), even on the 12" format, which may mark it as an Indie endeavour (like, who cares?). This was distinctly audible when pitched against something like Roqui's "I've just begun to Love you". Maybe Arthur Russell met with similar remarks?

Burns Night.

On the 25th of January I had the pleasure and honour of attending my first Burn's Night dinner, a bonafide ethnic event! I was a guest at the Bridgeton Burns Club evening in Glasgow, established in 1870 and reputedly "the best Burn's night in the world". It was a crowded event, 650 men (no women!) with an average age of 60. I reckoned on being the youngest there by a long chalk and possibly the only one not affiliated with the Masons (boom boom).

Robert Burns must have been the most electric personality. No less a figure than Magnus "I've started so I'll finish" Magnusson regaled us with the speech entitled "The Immortal Memory", a serious toast to Burns in contrast to the more ribald Speakers who followed. As I became gradually more mashed on single malt I learnt of Burns forays into the Highlands on field trips to collect Highland song. Burns has a reputation as a poet but clearly the boundary here with song is practically non-existent. This was underlined by performances of Burns's songs and also recitation of his work in the form of extraordinary Choral speaking. This has to be seen to be believed; a choir of East End kids (the winners of an annual competition run by the non-profit-making club, which discovered no less a singer than Lulu) rhythmically chant Burns's poetry, the choir splitting to point and counterpoint each-other with occasional soloist breaking from the melee. The kids did "Tam O'Shanter" with such humour and passion, it was only a pity that I was alone in not grasping the meaning.

Anyway, learning of Burns's ethnomusicological forays made me flash on Bartok's scavenging of Medeterranean music (I wish I could find that collection he compiled) also of course the work of the Lomaxes for Folkways. One of my party who hadn't made it this year (the Vice-President of one of the Scottish Universities) was apparently an expert on Scottish folk music. It would have been fascinating to talk to him, it seems amazing that the same songs wash up in the Appalachians and even the Missisippi Delta three hundred years after their journey to America, preserved by the rigidity of tradition. Indeed the evening was marked by such a formality, the same straightjacket which preserves Ragas in India for hundreds of years, I thought I was going to be lynched when I asked for the vegetarian option before more wisely plumping for Haggis (tastes like a Hamburger).

The musical treats extended beyond the Wordsound of the recital of Burns's work, we of course had the Bagpipes. My neighbour George, a hillwalker but Kidney Specialist by vocation, hated them insisting they were appropriate only for the battlefield, and sure the accompanying drumming is martial by definition. George said they were either Roman or Irish by descent. There is still some wild Italian folk in the form of Tarantella, the top end of which bleeds into Opera Buffo. I really like the bagpipes. I even have an Ardkore bagpipe record Armitage and Shanks's "Bagpipes in Effect", a real kicker at New Years Parties. When I hear the bagpipes I immediately associate the sound with the plaintive wail of Bismillah Khan's Shenai.

It's a sad truth that connecting with the initial charge of an idea or person or music becomes weaker with the passing of time. It's a feeling I often get on visiting a Church (Christians please be gentle with me....). However it's worth a crack, and one need only feel the vibe faintly to be able to imagine how strong it must have once been.

Chris Morris.

Right from being told by the man behind the counter at hipster-boho record store Sounds of the Universe that the new Chris Morris reggae 10" was a bit "off-key" I had to have it. Very queer that the emporium that has made such a fortune re-re-repackaging Studio One for the unadventurous and launching the truly awful 100% Dynamite series should even consider stocking the record.

The A-side of the perfectly packaged Chariot records 10" features Bigga Dread. Musically the pastiche is bang-on, dub inna Aba Shanti stylee. Without the kind of accurate sonic detail in the form of Morris's over-ripe croon (a budget Dennis Brown), matched with a DigiDub plod rhythm and Casio FX, we'd be in cod reggae territory. Cod Reggae as in Stackridge, Faust, Snow, 10cc, The Clash and Ace of Base. Of course that the pastiche is so stunningly accurate sharpens the satire immeasurably. The Bigga Dread "Batty Dread" track goes, hilariously, "Natty Dread sitting in the park, in his car, after dark, waiting for the young boy to suck pon his cock." It's tremendously improbable and brilliantly suprising. I've never had a problem with Reggae's "offensive" lyrics - it's habitual bashing of Gays and Women (probably for no better reason than I'm neither) but boy is it funny hearing the culture being skewered so perfectly, just desserts and more effective than a march in Manhattan. Expect a Rasta Fatwah on Morris's head.

The flipside features two tracks by Carlton "Killawatt" Valley, Morris's deejay parody, the alias instantly charming for it's accuracy. The "Special Request" track is once again perfectly done, styled as an early Dancehall version of Derrick Harriot's "Solomon" rhythm in the vein of Dennis Alcapone's "Riddle I This". It features our hero Carlton Valley chanting "Special request to the man like Fred West cos you are de best" inciting the girls to leave him alone because "you might find me hands around your neck real tight." Morris switches between Deejaying and Chorus like the perfect singjay, his vocals distorted in a Stone Love sound-system fashion. Of course it sounds like a rip-off, but close enough to the real thing for one to ponder that the lyrics wouldn't be that out of place in the Dancehall. Compare it to the content of something like Cutty Ranks's "The Stopper" for implied violence or the slack-era "Toilet Sex" by Welton Irie (replete with Welton's charming pig oink) and you begin to wonder what on earth you let Reggae get away with.

The absolutely best comparison with the Chariot 10" is a track released by Prince Jammys in the mid-eighties in Jamaica by a cockney called Dominic called "Boy George". What the hell he was doing out there ("come from England and me mash up the Yard") I don't know, except there is a micro-tradition of tourists finding their way into Reggae studios, very often German women being given the proverbial "come and see my etchings" by leary producers. The lyrics to "Boy George" are less shocking than TOK's "Chi Chi Man"'s with it's incitement to burn gay people or Buju Banton's "Boom By By", shoot them: "me no wine pon man, man me no kiss, AIDS is a disease me no wan catch it" but in his drippy weekend-patois and despite the full authenticity of Jammy's rhythm track, he sounds like such a jerk.

I missed the Morris TV specials, some of them sounded very ham-fisted. Ditto Blue Jam. But this is satire of the highest order; subtle and sophisticated in many ways, and satisfyingly blunt in others.

Panjabi MC.

Panjabi MC's "Mundian To Bach Ke" sounds like any other Bhangra track to me, ace. Why has it blown up so big? Is it that subliminal bassline, surely lifted off the Knightrider soundtrack? You remember, David Hasselhoff and the car with the accent.

Here’s to it, resplendent in its suavely designed sleeve, the Bhangra 12" for the almost-mainstream. For people too hip to buy the (also excellent) Bend it like Beckham Soundtrack and not mad enough to track down the real thing from the source. Anyone have anything on RDB?