Friday, December 25, 2015


It's Christmas. I hate Christmas music. I'm not even particularly a fan of the holiday. I'm probably working it again this year. I don't celebrate and I like Holiday pay. Everybody wins.

That said, this is what I'm going to do for you this day. I'm going to make not one, but two punches in your Fifty States of music with a pair of singles from the magical state of Hawaii.

Hawaii, you say. But that's that tropical place filled with fat guys playing Judy Garland songs on ukuleles and lots and lots of fucking lame reggae. I won't argue that point with you. My wife is from Hawaii. I have a number of ukuleles as well. It's pretty mellow, brah.

It like everywhere else had its own weird music scene which produced these two little wonders.

No ukuleles in either.

I really don't know what to make of this one. It's loud. There's a metric ton of fuzz and distortion and noise. But at the same time there's a manic glee to it that suggests that they weren't really trying to be "punk" rock as much as mocking it but by the same token making something much more actually punk rock than they intended. Howard Nishioka is the guitar player here. He's also known for making an lp of psychedelic weirdness in 1979 called "Street Songs" that is somewhere on the radar of shit that people are going to start namechecking at some point. There's more than a little bit of psychedelic noodling that occurs in this but it's buried under so much distortion that you really can't tell what the fuck is going on except that it's fucking brilliant. 

This is NOS vinyl in a new sleeve. Apparently one of the band members had a number of leftover records after the initial run (with silk screened sleeves). They made new sleeves for them and a "30th Anniversary" edition was born. I don't care. I got it cheap. I  also probably would have bought a reissue copy. It's New Wave to the fucking max. My wife also informs me that squid is also a slang term in Hawaii for a nerd which makes the cover make even more sense.

The money shot is on the second side with "Tourist Riot". It's a snazzy little toe tapper about tourists burning the city when their vacations go south. It makes my day every time I listen to it.
 Let it make yours too.

Wednesday, December 23, 2015


There are some things that you come across that nobody seems to know shit about and nobody else seems to remember in the first place. Here are a couple

 No Money No Future (1980)

Never heard anybody say the name of this band ever. There is a seven inch previous to this one that I hope to find at some point. But Minnesota's a strange place. They have a fucking boatload of state pride that rivals Texas in ridiculousness, but they only really give a shit about that as it is reflected by the rest of the world. This translates into not really giving a monkey's ass about anything anybody does locally until the world outside notices it and then they'll loudly crow about it being Minnesotan until you want to punch them.
I mean, when the local news has some cause to refer to  Robert Zimmerman in any way it is always prefixed with "Minnesota Native". I'm pretty sure almost everybody knows who Bob Dylan is. Bob Dylan is sufficient in most circumstances to identify the guy. It's not like they're narrowing it down from the whole host of other Bob Dylans out there that may otherwise lead to confusion as to which one they're referring to. (Oh, it's the one from Minnesota...)

Nobody ever noticed this band. They remain in obscurity.

 Maybe (1996)

I actually saw this band. Maybe even more than once. I saw them. Liked them. Forgot their name. Forgot they existed. Later on I remembered they existed. Didn't remember their name. And so it went for quite a few years until I saw this and it all came together for me. You see kids, sometimes stories do have a happy ending just like "Ol' Yeller".

In 1998 the local rag even mentioned them as Best Local Band. (along with other recordings I still need to locate.) If they did move to NYC, they apparently didn't become super popular.

Friday, December 18, 2015

Winter: Sounds for the Season

I live in Minnesota. It's cold here. Winters can suck. And by that, they can suck in ways that you'd have to be from Canada to truly understand. (We get most of our winter weather second hand from our neighbors up north) As the days continue to shorten and as somebody who primarily works nights I do not see much by way of daylight for quite a long ass fucking time. When I do experience daylight it's mostly as an annoyance separating me from my beauty rest or shining cheerlessly on snow and traffic on my way home from work.

It's times like these that call for sounds that match ones mood. That's where Crude's Inner City Guitar Perspectives comes in. It's a bit more easier on the ears than some of Matt Middleton's other Crude recordings, but then it's on Flying Nun and they have a business to run and overhead and shit like that. But it does fill that bleak void in the skull as you putter around in a world of eternal darkness.

Sunday, December 13, 2015

Oh yeah, Hula Hoop

These are the folks who split several releases with Boyracer which you may or may not remember from the endless stream of Boyracer posts way back when.

Best thing since sliced bread? Maybe not, but I quite like this band. Some time more than others, but I do find myself coming back to them every once in a while for a spin or two. They're kind of like a musical version of fish sticks. Not something you could have every day and probably not the best thing in the world, but every once in a while you get a notion and for a short while it's the most soul satisfying thing you can consume. 

That said, "Butterfingered" is a great pop song.

Monday, December 7, 2015

Mopping up.

Here's the last of the last batch of things I digitized literally months ago and have sat in a folder on mediafire just waiting for me to get my lazy ass shit together.

It's more Comped to Death shit.

A snazzy little garage number from this Saginaw, Michigan band that even the presence of a horn section cannot quite diminish. It was a decent regional hit back when those could happen because one company didn't own all the radio stations in the country and decide what the country was going to consider a "hit". I don't listen to radios.

Yeah, it's been comped a million times. You may have already. But this is my copy and I fucking love this song. I'm a little less enthused by the b-side, but I fucking love "It's Cold Outside". 

The band were from Cleveland, OH and would eventually reconjigger to become the Raspberries best known for a AM hit about trying to convince a girl to bang you. (Kind of like a slightly less graphic "Paradise by the Dashboard Light") Eric Carmen who sang for the Raspberries would go on to a successful solo career making dreary light rock songs for the rest of the 70's. I don't recommend them.

Tuesday, December 1, 2015

Unrelated things

Kind of orphan singles that don't pair up neatly with other things that I've digitized recently.

This was, based on Discogs, the swan song release for the Claim. It's on Bus Stop. They formed in 1980. They were English and played with the Dentists. Now we're up to speed.

If the Clique are remembered for anything it's got to be that REM covered one of their songs for a minor hit long ago when wooly mammoths roamed the fruited plains and everyone smoked in elevators. Speaking of elevators. (note the clever transition) Here they do a cover themselves of fellow Texans 13th Floor Elevators track "Splash 1" which seems much less implausible in retrospect than it did to my naive self back when I got it. They don't fuck it up, but do manage to sand a few of the edges off it. If I were a noted rock critic who treated people's records like high school essays on literary symbolism in SE Hinton's "The Outsiders" I'd give it a solid B.

Thursday, November 26, 2015

You're Welcome

It's apparently Thanksgiving. (or at least it will be when this posts. It's nowhere near then right now as I prepare it for the queue.) Here's something to be thankful for.

While I was getting the last post together I realized I needed to upgrade my rip of this disc. There's a song on it called "Why Sting is Such an Idiot" which is a wonderful little pop ditty and one that likely ended up on more than one mix tape for girls. It, like Sting, was a lot more relevant in 1994. If you're under thirty, you may need to have somebody older explain what a "Sting" is/was and why it would ever have been relevant. (Or wikipedia. )
The times have long since shifted, I can't say for the better, for all of us and Sting. shall I put it?  Let's go with "New Times, Same Old 5lb Bag"

Monday, November 23, 2015


Two singles that sit side by side in the box.

the Countdowns (1967)

New England garage on a Holyoke, Mass label. A lovely song celebrating the girl who works third shift. I can relate. I work nights.

I'm always a little confused by dates on stuff like this because it sounds to me like it should have been released at least a couple years earlier. I like both sides a lot on this one, but I've always been a big proponent of the New England 60's garage sound. I mean, I love a good fuzz punk pounder as much as the next person, there's something about the moody pop side that hits me deep in the feels.

Meanwhile in Galveston, Texas

the Countdown 5 (1967)

There's apparently a picture sleeve for this with a first pressing on a different label of the band all neatly coiffed and in matching collarless white jackets with black trim (I'm assuming since it's a black and white photo) They look like fine upstanding young men.

Tuesday, November 17, 2015

The Sound of One Allen Clapping

More stuff from the venerable Bus Stop Label

Allen Clapp is also the main dude in a band called the Orange Peels. This stuff is primarily home 4-track recording indie pop stuff of which he, like me, did a shit ton of in the 90's when computers were still not that good at that stuff and crazy fucking expensive anyway. He did it better than I did. (More or less. I had my moments.) "Mystery Lawn" ended up on quite a few cassette compilations of the period.

A single on the Spanish label Elefant from 1996. I played this one a lot less, but my tastes had shifted a bit in the previous four years. Fits in well enough a couple of decades later.

Wednesday, November 11, 2015

Cult Figures

Zip Nolan (1979)

Blah blah blah. Swell Maps involvement on their Rather Records label. If that means anything to you then you have an idea of what it sounds like. Home taping is music.

Follow up ep is a bit more polished but no less enjoyable.

Thursday, November 5, 2015


I used to have a roommate. His name was Bruce. We worked the same shitty restaurant job together and drank a lot. We were in our 20's. I'm pretty sure it's what kids still do. I sometimes wonder whatever became of him. We lost touch decades ago and he apparently doesn't have a Facebook account, so I may as yet never know. That's too bad. I'd like to say hello sometime.

That little anecdote naturally is our segue into this post featuring Couch Flambeau from Wisconsin, the Dairy State. We probably heard this played on the morning show on WMBR some bleary eyed weekday morning prepping case after case of fucking avocados for the lunch rush. It amused us. I bought it. I'd put it on mix tapes for work and we thought it was hilarious. I still think it's kind of funny. The b-side is a piss take on the Mountain classic rock tune and #1 cowbell song. It's also still pretty amusing.

So I post this now. It's dedicated to Bruce wherever his 6' 4" soulless ginger badass self is these days.

A decade later Constant Pain from New Zealand released another in our series of why it's poor design to print your sleeves with metallic paints on dark paper. They are almost always completely unreadable and any artwork is completely lost. At least there's the music to enjoy.

Saturday, October 31, 2015

Final Dentists post.

Second and final release on a major label subsidiary. And the final nail in the Dentists post coffin. That's all I've got. All you may need. Or better a road map for what you're going out and actively seeking your own copy of.

Get it while you can. It's still cheap and findable online. It's good. 
And it's one of those things that when it's gone it will be gone and unfindable again. Trust me as someone who's put off buying some common things for too long until they were no longer common because everybody threw them out because nobody wanted them.

Monday, October 26, 2015

More of that good stuff.

Not that everything I post isn't a gem in one way or another. But I especially like these two.

Clay Allison (1984)

Kendra Smith, late of the Dream Syndicate with David Roback late of Rain Parade. They would go on to form Opal who would go on to become Mazzy Star with the departure of Kendra and the addition of Hope Sandoval. Hope Sandoval is quite easy on the eyes, but I really prefer Kendra Smith's voice for this dreamy reverby pop. This is an all time favorite single.

It's included on the long oop Early Recording's compilation by Opal. I might be convinced to upload that along with the more T Rex sounding follow up "Happy Baby Nightmare" if asked nicely.

Carsickness were from Pittsburgh, PA. This doesn't sound at all like you would expect from the sleeve. That's a good thing.  Three singles and two lps. I'm still looking. I'd like more.

Monday, October 19, 2015

Another post.

hehe. boobs.

Draw your own conclusions, but frequent oral sex is not part of the lyrical content to this song.

Tuesday, October 13, 2015

Mostly Unintentional Novelty Songs

 It's hard to tell what they were thinking.

 the Cleaning Ladys (1984)

The extremely annoyingly improperly pluralized Cleaning Ladys  were apparently from the Chicago area. The lyrics are reprinted on the back of the sleeve in case you miss the jokes. (She won't French Kiss, but she'll otherwise bang you six ways to Sunday) There was an official video to go with it. You can youtube it yourself. I've got other things to do with my time.


the Bee Jays (1980)
Same song both sides. A hilariously droll gay take on the Angels hit. With only a few minor lyrical modifications. I smirk every time he gets to "He knows that you've been lyin'/Soon we will be KYing"

I'm funny that way.

  What Do We Do With the World (1967)

It's difficult to get people to really understand that the most popular and successful musical act of the 20th Century was not the Beatles that your grandparents like to remind you that nothing your generation will do will be half so awesome as. (fuck off, gramps.) It was Bing fucking Crosby. He dominated music, radio and movies for thirty plus years and then turned into a national treasure. He was also apparently a pretty nasty fucker to his kids, but beloved by millions otherwise. You may know him from "White Christmas" which is the only thing anybody remembers him for.

 For a while at one miserable cooking job doing Sunday Brunch prep over the course of salaried 60 hour weeks I used to listen to a radio show dedicated to the Bingmeister. He recorded a lot of hacknied dreck and dreary ballads which apparently went over like gangbusters during the Depression and WWII. This little number stood out the one time I heard it such that I  had to track this thing down. It's as close as Der Bingle ever got to Rock and Roll and ever so dingily and dimly psychedelic that I knew I would have to have it.

What would we do with Earth once we've started colonizing the stars?

Fucking progress...

Thursday, October 8, 2015

Stuff. No Jibber jabber. 1982.

Google it yourself. Let me know what you come up with.

Florida. Synths. the Brothers Storch. Are they related to Larry? We may never know.

Third and final release. Look at their photo on the back. It sounds like you'd expect those guys to sound. Pretty much exactly so.