Full Blown A.I.D.S. – "Full Blown A.I.D.S." (Wicked Sick Records – #7)

Oh yeah, we're in a what did I do today  general scenario bollocks ain't we just? Well I had a lovely meal on the Saturday last weekend, for me girlfriend's birthday...she ate as well if you were wondering,and Champagne for afters.

Then when we got back to where the car was parked ...it wasn't there,fucking gone !?...Turned out the cops towed it away and put it in their state of the art compound miles from town....and it won't be released until the local Pigs had checked my moth-eaten dodgy paperwork;....trouble was,all the paperwork is in the car innit? Miles away,with no way of getting there before the bastards close for the weekend. Had to call a friend to drive 50 miles round trip to shuttle us from one bunch of cunts to the other cunts.Got papers, showed cops,who fined me for having "bald" tyres...so they say!? and then back to the compound to show the man my cop endorsed paperwork,signed by yours truly,and pay the fucker 200 quid for the sheer joy of it all.....and no-one noticed I was pissed drunk?!

So as a result I wanna kill somebody and laugh at people with incurable diseases. So where to go for the soundtrack of this internalized destruction.....answer....anything by Anal Cunt I thought? Or even better something by Half of Anal Cunt called "Full Blown AIDS" !

The difference between GG Allin, and Seth Putnam is that one was a funny idiot,and the other one was just an idiot. The answer to this conundrum is up to you, but ,let's just say that GG never had a band called 'Full Blown AIDS'. One of the best band names I have yet encountered.

Anyone who is actually insulted by Anal Cunt and its derivatives should just get Full Blown AIDS themselves and die in my opinion.....especially jobs-worth traffic cops....nah...they weren't so bad,especially when confronted by my post-Brexit and totally illegal and out of date British Driving Licence from the early Nineties. I just lied,said I was a tourist,can't speak the lingo guvn'r (not far correct anyways),and they couldn't get us out of there quick enough.

This Sludgecore classic was committed to a cd-r just three years before Seth's untimely death by Heart Failure.....I suppose we should laugh,as that's what Seth would have done if any of us had died in such a gay way.....'Gay' being one of Mr Putnam's favourite unwoke words by the way,I inform,so as to deflect and Savage Wokery nastiness coming in my approximate direction. Basically, I just wanna be liked, and admire anyone who genuinely just Don't give a flying Fuck about anything or anyone.......unless you're in on the joke.

One would have thought that a person with such cathartic externalised hatred would escape the predictable heart attack finale wouldn't you? May well have had something to do with Seth being such a fat bastard.You can't externalise clogged up arteries....or can you?

Tracklist:

1st EP:
1 No One Cares
2 Track Team
3 It's All Fake
4 Stupid Bitch
5 Trash Picker
6 Alcholic

Leech EP:
7 Leech
8 For Those About To Rock (We Salute You)
9 Fact Finder
10 Everything
Bonus
11 Throwing Cars At People On Coke With Thor

DOWNLOAD the anti-cure for AIDS HERE!

John Shuttleworth – "The Dolby Decades" (Chic Ken – CHIC KENCD017) 2008

More from the maestro of the Yahama organ including "I Can't Go back To Savoury Now";if that isn't a good enough incentive to get you to download this recording you are probably dead.

However, "I Don't Want To Dance (But You've Got To" is the only tune ever to face up to the White Male'a dilemma of whether to dance and look like the prat you are,or show resolve and decline the opportunity to indulge in this ridiculous pastime,passing itself off as an expression of Joy(?)....what the fuck is there to dance about anyway?...This track has the compliment of having a guest vocal spot by Richard Whitely, of lame afternoon quiz shoe "Countdown" fame, before he died.....he had "One Foot In The Gravy" i guess?...of course referring to John's meditation on the spectre of mortality which goes by the same name on track 16.

Coronation Street gets namechecked again,through "Betty Turpin" who stood behind the bar of the Rovers Return soap opera pub for 42 years,never(well occasionally a few lines) having more than a few words ,such as "yes luvvie"to say,ever!

Could go through it track by track,listing the producers, what keyboard John Played,studio equipment,Beatles influences and shite like that,as if i was writing for Mojo Magazine,but fuck that!

Its fucking good,that's all you lot need to now.....isn't that right Betty?....."Yes Luvvie."

Tracklist:

1 Life Is Like A Salad Bar
2 Serial Cereal Eater
3 Three Men In A Van
4 Fish And Chips
5 Unaccompanied Lady
6 Disaffected Youth
7 God's Waiting Room
8 God Bless The Fleece
9 Dandelion And Burdock
10 I Can't Go Back To Savoury Now
11 I Don't Want To Dance (But You've Got To!)
Featuring – Richard Whiteley
12 Blatherwyke
13 Betty Turpin
14 Two Margarines
15 She Lives In Hope
16 One Foot In The Gravy
17 Karen's Tangerine
18 Mutiny Over The Bounty
19 When Suburbia Wakes
20 Scenes From South Yorkshire

DOWNLOAD a decade spanning collection of dolby encoded wonders HERE!

Flagitious Idiosyncrasy In The Dilapidation ‎– "S/T" (Bizarre Leprous Production ‎– BLP 086) 2008

Yet Another Japanese all-female Grindcore band,that makes two that I know of ,are the ludicrously named 'Flagitious Idiosyncrasy In The Dilapidation'.....what does that even mean,or am I just Thick?

Of course they had to get a post on here purely because of their silly name,but they ain't nowhere near as good as Self-Deconstruction',whose version of Grindcore is infinitely more complex and unique.

This lot are far more conventional,and lean rather too far into the 'Metal' category for my tastes,or lack of therein?

But they are all-female,which is one up on Self-Deconstruction,but nowhere near as cute as.

The vocalist,Makiko.... notice that i didn't use the word 'Singer' as her job description.....has an unerring ability to sound like two or three different people,one of them surely male?...but no, she does all the voices. Definitely in need of a gargle after a show i should imagine? If there's ever a musical version of "The Exorcist" she is certainly a shoe-in for the Linda Blair role. A good Grindcore song title  is "Yer Grandmother sucks cocks in hell"......i dunno if that qualifies as eternal punishment for some grandmothers i know, but in Grindcore folklore it's just a bit of harmless cathartic fun to exorcise the demons of Japanese emotional repression.

The songs live dangerously longer than the one minute barrier,which is perilously long for any Grindcore to not outlive its welcome. Remember Napalm Death's one second song "You Suffer", the one that was ruined on their John Peel Session because some smart alek decided to put an immensely looooong Reverb setting on it....so much so that it lasted nearly 30 seconds....which just so happens, Ironically, is the perfect Grindcore song duration.

Tracklist:

1 Visualized 1:16
2 Smudge 1:47
3 Finite Dark Water 2:44
4 Studeny Klih 1:58
5 Dusted Ratina 1:44
6 In The Sludge 2:18
7 In The Gray Room 1:53
8 Tied Up 1:20
9 Unvoiced 3:10
10 Lost 1:14
11 Dizzy Confusion 1:21
12 Elimination 1:54
13 Evacuation 1:21
14 Twine 1:57
15 Euthanasia 0:56
16 Under The Surface 2:45
17 Felaceus Oedipus 1:56

DOWNLOAD some unlady-like metal stylings from Japan HERE!

Rhys Chatham & His Guitar Trio All-Stars ‎– "Guitar Trio Is My Life!" (Radium ‎– TOE-CD-813) 2008

 As Branca apparently got his inspiration from C.C.Hennix and other minimalist also-rans,let's find out who he really nicked stuff from;namely  Rhys Chatham.

For New Years Day here's ten rendition's of Chatham's self-defining classic "Guitar Trio", as played on the 30th anniversary tour of the original recording in 2007.

Fusing the one note drones and harmonics of Tony Conrad and, with the minimal one chord rock of Punk,this 'composition'....its called a composition if is its done by a music graduate,....is as if a three second morsel of "Don't Wanna Go Down To The Basement" by that long-haired group from Queens, was looped for an indetermined number of minutes.One of the greatest serious Rock'n'Roll compositions of allllll time.

So, of course it should be played over and over again to further strengthen the concept to a level previously unheard. The Complete Funhouse Sessions by the Stooges did my head in to the point that I may never want to listen to "Funhouse" ever again!;but this I never get tired of.....I've even played a version of it it with my groop (Scouts Of Uzbekistan).If you don't wanna go down into the Guitar Trio Basment then you may as well stop breathing!It's as fundamental as that.......but don't forget "BORIS JOHNSON IS A FUCKING CUNT!"

Tracklist:

1-1 Guitar Trio Pt. 1, Brooklyn 19:27
1-2 Guitar Trio Pt. 2, Chicago 23:34
1-3 Guitar Trio Pt. 1, Buffalo 21:15
2-1 Guitar Trio Pt. 2, Toronto 19:20
2-2 Guitar Trio Pt. 1, Montreal 22:24
2-3 Guitar Trio Pt. 2, Cleveland 16:35
2-4 Guitar Trio Pt. 1, Minneapolis (Excerpt) 6:45
3-1 Guitar Trio Pt. 2, Milwaukee 19:04
3-2 Guitar Trio Pt. 1, Chicago 30:23
3-3 Guitar Trio Pt. 2, Brooklyn 16:27

DOWNLOAD from the basement of rock magic HERE!

Henry Flynt, and C. C. Hennix ‎– "Dharma Warriors" (Locust Music ‎– L114) 1983/2008

Good to hear that american minimalist legends are as clueless and talent strapped as we are. With the technical efficacy of The Prats ,Drone masters Flynt and Hennix provide us with a 30 minute rock work-out that some not so bright spark captured to a cassette on a Boombox. It would have been thrown in the garbage were it not for the glowing CV's of the two performers. Hennix's drumming drifts between the mildly incompetant to producing drum rolls that echo Rat Scabies at the height of his powers. Flynt, without the easy stability of a drone to prop him up,struggles to sound like anything more than a schoolboy practising in his bedroom.Now we know why he was booted out of the Velvet Underground. 

The begining of 'Warriors Of the Dharma' even has hints of Rhys Chatham's Guitar Trio,which Ironically the Minimalists had originally inspired,revealing a disturbing lack of ideas for a man once so proficient on his fiddle when it comes to improvised droney bluegrass. If this album had been made by a couple of unemployed kids from Grimsby in their bedroom,then I would have been singing its praises;but its been made by a pair of intellectuals who should know better. Admitedly not intended to be released,but nonetheless it was.I'm just surprised that it exists, so that in itself is its justification.

DOWNLOAD as the intellectuals jam HERE!

 

Preggy Peggy & The Lazy Babymakers ‎– "Get An Ace Case Of The Measles" (Ultra Eczema 63) 2008

Preggy Peggy and her be-tracksuited albanian boyfriends or boy fiends, the odd well hung swarthy babymaker,undoubtedly called Mongo, respendant in his bulging Lee Cooper stone-washed jeans.An item worth killing for in Enva Hoxha's Albania.Mongo's thick set monobrow frames a stare that suggests he did kill for those jeans;an act he called,or rather grunted, 'Going Shopping' back in the motherland....am I being Racist again?...probably, but this is how I imagine this anonymous collective if they existed in real life, and I'll shout down anyone who tries to trouble me with 'Facts', alternative or otherwise. I don't wanna know who they are thanks,and leave me with my ill-advised fantasy. I'm still scarred by Bill Drummonds recounted Residents' Mole Show experience when he noticed a thick wad of long curly hair pertruding from underneath one of the eyeball heads. This couldn't be true,surely?But now ,with the culture diluting...am i being racist again????....well at least uncomfortably right wing ,for which i apologise......where was I?...Ah Yes, the culture diluting Internet, revealing the identities of the Residents as an example of the Myth Busting of the gossip obsessed porn addicts that this 'Future' is populated with.Shit innit?

The cover is reminding me of the moment when my Daughter entered this world.An event commonly referred to as "Beautiful",rather than the horrific and painful thing it truly is.Like something out of Hellraiser!If ever a moment confirmed what i had already suspected, that there is no god, this was IT! Using flowery language to describe this,and other, reality confirming events ,transforms them into something Happy and full of the beauty of life. Its, in fact, the oldest usage of Alternative Facts as a political weapon in the long history of lying to oneself. I notice that "Beautiful" is one of ex-president's Donald Trump's favorite words from his very limited vocabulary. This is NO coincidence!

Somehow ,some Belgian chap decided to release a 'proper' vinyl record of Preggy Peg!? Thankfully it keeps up the high standard of abstract Industrial Pop as viewed through a kaleidoscope dunked in shit that we came to expect from them. Beautiful!?

Tracklist:

A1 Come Ravage The Rice In My Rug
A2 Shep Makes Coffee
A3 How So Ever Far
A4 Not A Dry Eye In G-Unit
B1 Amonia Blud
B2 Legs N.Ahll & "Lucky" Lester Lickley Meet Sammy The One-Eyed Pirate... In The Dark !
B3 Play Meaty For Me
B4 Buttermouthed Buckslappers Of Fu Manchu
B5 Saul Peels An Onion
B6 The Circle With A Hole In The Middle

DOWNLOAD and hear the beauty HERE!

Jandek ‎– "Glasgow Friday" (Corwood Industries ‎– CORWOOD 0791) 2008

It's Jandek Monday at Brigadoon,as featured on the cover.Except that the castle pictured is Dunluce Castle in Northern Ireland.

Recorded on the 14th of October 2005 at The Arches in Glasgow. Performing as part of the Instal festival, the same festival and venue at which he had made his unannounced live debut in 2004 ("Glasgow Sunday").

The main feature of this performance is how Jandek appears to be tuning up before every section!? I guess he's just making sure he's not in any standard tuning before the cacophony begins.Tuned to the key of whatever.
Tracklist:

1 Walking Blues 13:08
2 Goodbye Today 6:45
3 This Wasted Life 6:14
4 Slave Of The River 6:08
5 My Plan 10:48
6 If I Could Be With You 6:36
7 Out And About 6:13
8 These Kokomos 9:24
9 Something New 5:41
10 Arms Of A Stranger 6:47

DOWNLOAD jandek in brigadoon HERE!

Jandek ‎– "Glasgow Sunday 2005" (Corwood Industries ‎– CORWOOD 0792) 2008

Jandek's set that included a second JFK assasination connection, was recorded live at The Arches, Glasgow, Scotland on October 16, 2005.

He had previously appeared at the Texas theater in Dallas that Oswald was arrested at, in 2016;a review of which(by 'moi') you can get HERE! During which one concluded that Jandek fired the fatal bullet from the 'Grassy Knoll'. So is the reference here a further indication of our Representatives guilt? Is he laughing at us, hiding in plain sight?.....probably not, but we all like a mystery don't we? That's the primary reason we like Jandek.

The spoken account of mass brainwashing, which is the track named after that infamous Knoll, seems to suggest a Sirhan Sirhan style Manchurian Candidate scenario, which involved the Representative 'losing his mind to them', and that '(he) knew that he must GO!?'.

Like Oswald he suggests he was the patsy, who didn't go along with the plan made by that 'God Man' Sterling refers to.

Like any conspiracy nut, one can make any piece fit the jigsaw puzzle,so please face up to the clear Facts that it was Jandek wot dunnit guvner!

The ethereal guitarwork backing up this admission from our favourite beneficiary of CIA identity protection, is provided by the magnificent Loren Mazzacane Conners, whose many albums are the epitome of melancholy.Probably another outsider guitarist on the CIA witness protection program, but far less moany than the Identity given to Jandek.

Things get a bit wilder for the second track, as Alan Licht takes over guitar duty, and Jandek moves to drums.Ending in wild applause from the Glaswegian crowd.

The J(andek)FK Conspiracy starts here!

Tracklisting:

The Grassy Knoll 25:26
Tribal Ether 24:47

DOWNLOAD from the grassy knoll of outsider music HERE!

Performing Ferrets ‎– "No One Told Us" (Hyped To Death ‎– Messthetics #216) 2008

This has some unreleased material on it, and some non-album singles, so its worth putting it up here innit?

Tracklisting:

1 A Story
2 Brow Beaten
3 Convenience
4 The New One
5 Howler Monkey
6 Take It Easy
7 Mandolin
8 Dut Dut Dut
9 Morgan
10 It's About A Day
11 Shoo Shar
12 Field Of Yellow Flowers
13 Plastic Macho Man
14 The Rush
15 Nudes
16 We Are This Way
17 Sycorax The Witch
18 Where's My Four Slices Of Bread?
19 Bottle Fruit
20 Bar Room
21 Rouse Rouse
22 Fallen Tyrant
23 Didn't Like Us
24 Hold The Gravy
25 Dreary (live)
26 Develop That River
27 Shu-Shau
28 Egyptian

DOWNLOAD and don't tell no one HERE!

Jandek ‎– "London Tuesday" (Corwood Industries ‎– CORWOOD 0793) 2008

Jandek Monday from a Tuesday in the UK,13 years hence.

Recorded live at St. Giles in the Fields,London,October 18, 2005.A church in the southern part of Camden, where we get a proper solo performance from the Corwood Representative; naked and raw in the  evening,with acoustic guitar and no proper musicians to flesh it out.The song "Part Three" is of particular interest, as it makes a number of direct references to the characters and themes of "Naked in the Afternoon", the first song from "Ready for the House".
The cover features our man from Corwood standing against a backdrop of the city of Bath (UK),which to my rudimentary knowledge,isn't London?.

Tracklisting:

No Mind Was A Good Mind
1 Part One 9:25
2 Part Two 7:19
3 Part Three 6:59
4 Part Four 8:05
5 Part Five 7:25
6 Part Six 7:19
7 Part Seven 9:35
8 Part Eight 11:04

if you have a good mind to DOWNLOAD something, do it HERE!

Various Artists - "Messthetics #104: South Wales D.I.Y.'77-81" (Hyped2Death) 2008

Well if you liked "Is The War Over?(a Cardiff Compilation)", you're gonna like this.
A kind of  'Best of...' South Wales DIY compilation on that Hyped2Death cd-r label that did such a great job at reintroducing the British to their own forgotten culture. Rather like what the Brits have always been doing to the Americans since 1963.
Now we all wish that these same Americans would erase their culture from the last twenty years,that introduced such heinous crimes as Nu-Metal,Rap Metal,modern R&B,99% of all Rap nonsense, Dubya,Trump,Jay Zee,that other twat who i forgot the name of,Kanye West......OMFG...the list would go on but my brain is shutting down to protect my cerebral cortex from permanent damage.
This cd-r,however, has some absolute classics on it.......Notably The Czechs 'Suffocation', which seemed to have a drum kit comprising only of a Snare drum; and The Crash Action Winners' wonderfully incompetent  version of The Red Krayola's 'Hurricane Fighter Plane'......were they the welsh 'Prats'?...I say, yes.....yes, they were the Welsh Prats. I know Wales is full of prats, but in this instance I am referring to the group of Scottish pre-teens who made a classic session for the John Peel Show, and, from before that, appeared on Fast products 'Earcom 1' compilation.
There is another appearance by future Young Marble Giants as 'Table Table', and many other,ambitionless proto-indie castaways.
Them were,unequivocally, THE DAYS! 

Tracklist:

1 –The Czechs - Suffocation + 44 Seconds
2 –Current Obsessions -Fish
3 –What To Wear-The Robbery
4 –Tax Exiles - (I Don't Believe In) Miracles
5 –The Flying Brix- Uniform (I Don't Wanna Be Different)
6 –Immortal Invisibles - No Zip
7 –Spitfire Boys -Funtime
8 –Decadent Few- There's A Place
9 –The Sane - Arnold Palmer
10 –Discount Chiefs- In A Different Light
11 –Table Table- Magic Moments
12 –Crash Action Winners - Hurricane Fighter Plane
13 –Reptile Ranch- (Don't Give The) Lifeguard (A Second Chance)
14 –Addiction - Violence
15 –The Boy wonders- He Man
16 –Hugh Volk- Talk Of Town
17 –Decadent Few - Burning Caroline
18 –Ralph & The Ponytails - James Bond
19 –Janet & Johns - I Was A Young Man
20 –What To Wear - We're The Martians Now
21 –Ralph & The Ponytails - Splendid Stories
22 –Discount Chiefs- Smell Of Fossils
23 –Puritan Guitars- Making It
24 –Tax Exiles- Rough In The Valley

DOWNLOAD from the welsh valleys of DIY HERE!

Rudimentary Peni ‎– "No More Pain E.P." (Southern Records ‎– BOOBOO 09) 2008

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?



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 1:20
No More Pain 1:36
Eyes Of The Dead 1:35
Prayer For The Unborn 1:41
The Death Of The Author 1:30
Grave Object 1:44
Doodlebug Baby 2:11
Annihilation 1:55
Sublime Fantasy No. 1 2:08
Pachelbel's Canon In E 4:16

DOWNLOAD painlessly HERE!

Bendle / Dustdevil and Crow - "Discography" (2008-2013)

1. 
   jesus
2. 
   accidental music
   dustdevil & crow
3. 
   ...and chuang tzu dreamed that he was me
   dustdevil & crow
4. 
   while speaking softly you can hear the insects sing
   dustdevil & crow
5. 
   while walking slowly you can see the grasses grow
   dustdevil & crow
6. 
   tattered tongues 
   
   
7. Well,as we have been posting all thing Bendle related for the last week or so,its only fitting to remind y'all that the great man is still at it today,mainly with the Experimental ambient metal Neo-folk psych digital doo wop drone hybrid combo, Dustdevil and Crow.
8. So, pop along ,via the approved links above to the relevant Bandcamp page and download his complete oeuvre,for any price you care to volunteer,including nought pounds. I'm sure he's worth donating few quid to after all these years of hovering under the radar of the counter culture?
9. BENDLES BANDCAMP LINK  where you'll find even more stuff.

Jandek - "The Myth Of The Blue Icicles" (Corwood 0790) 2008

Jandek makes another return to his traditional heartland of twisted solo acoustic guitar accompanying vocals that swing from what seem to be very personal, diary-like narratives to image-laden, death dream prose.All the classical Jandek marks are present: the tangled acoustic guitar that manages to clash with itself; the deep, cat-scratchy vocals that sound like they were only achieved after a lifetime of swallowing glass and drinking his own urine; and the lyrics that are part-confessional, part-sixth form poetry, and part-one-half of a conversation that we were never meant to hear. "The Myth of Blue Icicles" is one of his finest piece of writing and improvisational poetry, with acoustic guitars that shift from cacophony to blues-influenced playing throughout. The lyrical content of this album is phenomenal, dark and considered; psychedelic, vivid and improvised all at once. The personal nature of much of this writing will endear the album to the majority of Corwood listeners, who thrive on the raw,uncut and untouched emotion of these releases.
Is he the perfect pop star?

Tracklist:

1	Too Course	7:30
2	Blue Icicles	9:45
3	The Daze	14:29
4	There’s No Door	5:11

DOWNLOAD some blue icicle mythology HERE!

Jandek ‎– "Skirting The Edge" (Corwood Industries ‎– Corwood 0794) 2008

The 56th release attributed to Jandek released by Corwood Industries in 2008. The album features Jandek's trademark medicated Dylan vocals, limply strummed atonal acoustic guitar, and explores a number of dark lyrical themes including ill-health, death and the casting-off of material possessions.The album's first track "The side of the road" sets the scene for the rest of the album; lyrical content that can be seen to be relatively "positive", in that the piece is about accepting the certainty of death at the end of life's journey, contrasted with music and vocal delivery that seems far less sure of this acceptance... This is "deathbed blues", and this strain between lyrical content and delivery shows clearly the raft of conflicting emotions that one man can witness when considering the inevitable.
 The second piece on the album, "I know my name" seems to be more improvised and raw in its emotions; the artist's vocals can be heard to be strained, sad, joyful and resigned at various points of the story... This is how love songs really should sound. "Take this big picture away, I want to be with the little things". This is a sentiment that many will empathise with; the complicated nature of life and human relationships getting in the way of the fairytale ending that we believe would occur if we existed in a vacuum, away from the strains of life and outside interference.
Following on from this is "The Playground", a piece that discusses what we would assume to be an incident from the narrator's childhood. The song again deals with illness and cure, this time as the result of a stone thrown by local children near a friend's house. The song describes how the subject's friend, Albert, took the shirt from his own back to help stop the bleeding, before his mother "stopped the process of my demise". The incident seems to have given the narrator a fresh outlook on life at the time, and notes a recognition of the inherent kindness in others as he witnessed in Albert that day; "And then I hit the street all cured and pure clean / I swept the scenery / I touched the water every day / I found you floating in another person every day".
 The final song on this album is another piece that comes across as being mostly improvised, the oblique "Last Sunlight". This piece deals with mostly natural images of a metaphorical journey, again seemingly taking on the album's themes of ill-health and the end of life.
This album is an excellent addition to the catalogue of releases from Corwood, and is one of the label's most challenging in terms of its themes. Those with a particular interest in the acoustic material Corwood has released in the past will relish this album, and the record comes highly recommended, alongside the other recent all-acoustic album, "Myth of Blue Icicles".

Tracklist:

1 The Side Of The Road 7:08
2 I Know My Name 23:43
3 The Playground 7:53
4 Last Sunlight 11:57
DOWNLOAD and don't skirt around the edge HERE!

Jandek ‎– "Glasgow Sunday 2005" (Corwood Industries ‎– Corwood 0792) 2008

Live Jandek????
Jandek plays live???..............has this destroyed the mystique?.............I rather think.....Yes!
Although he still doesnt confirm that the performer IS Jandek himself, referring to himself as "The Representative From Corwood".The first ever live Jandek concert took place in Scotland in October 2004. It was unannounced.
This is a later Glasgow appearence from 2005.
The credit on the back says “RECORDED LIVE: THE ARCHES GLASGOW SCOTLAND OCTOBER 16, 2005”. On the first track the representative from Corwood delivers a long spoken narrative. He also sings and plays harmonica,expertly backed by improv legend, Loren Connors on electric guitar. On the second track, the rep plays drum kit, with Heather Leigh Murray on lap steel guitar and wordless vocals with Alan Licht on electric guitar.
This is more Jandek, backed by very capable improv legends, than classic Jandek. It's far too 'good' in the "well Played" department to be filed under Jandek. Outsider music played by Insiders to entertain an audience of Hipsters.
These live outings are Jandek's most 'acceptable' recordings,taken seriously by chin strokers everywhere.
Very listenable stuff indeed, a kind of outsider ambient, atmospheric harmonics, floating underneath Jandek's haunted poetry, and ghostly harmonica. Stuff you could play without your wife complaining.
It gets worse, he's even done an interview recently with mainstream music magazine 'The Wire'???? I expect TV appearances will follow; probably on that horrible Jools Holland music show, that infects my TV with its smug bank managers coffee table vibe that makes one feel sick, and music pointless.

Tracklist:

1	The Grassy Knoll Electric Guitar [Uncredited] – Loren Mazzacane Connors Vocals [Uncredited], Harmonica [Uncredited] – Jandek	25:26
2	Tribal Ether Drums [Uncredited] – Jandek Electric Guitar [Uncredited] – Alan Licht Steel Guitar [Pedal, Uncredited], Vocals [Uncredited] – Heather Leigh Murray	24:47

DOWNLOAD a sunday in glasgow 2005 HERE!