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prpGROUP -- Today Was the Happiest Day of Your Life [prpHQ (UK) CDR, 2005] If I'm countin' correctly, this is the first full-length prpGROUP album after five EP-length CDRs. The Leeds-based trio has been around about as long as this stupid century. Drummer Ashley Clarke and bassist Michael Clough roughly approximate the same sort of outward-bound groovecentric improv as Holger and Jaki with Can, or a less funky dub rhythm section from the mid-70s. Except this is even more stark. Richard Errington's guitar chanks and clangs along with tasty accents and exclamation points. At least those elements are where prpGROUP begins.Today Was the Happiest Day of Your Life takes out some of the punk-like pummel of their earlier, more condensed efforts--but adds delicious space and wide-screen stoned focus. "Ptarmigans," the opening track, sounds like a PiL/Krautrock merger similar to the German band S.Y.P.H. The rhythmic vehicle gets an extra bump or two on "Shatner's Bassoon." Then things slow way down for "Cow"--sort of Ennio Morricone stuck in in the mud--loose-stringed thumpin' bass and heavy-echo drums work together in odd ways while guitar wavers, plunks, and hovers lowly. Guitarist Errington does an intense, sometimes glitch-heavy, sometimes hypnotic remix/noise piece called  "Dub Version of the Previous Track" that sounds nothing like the previous track. Finally, "The Elephant Charmer" begins as noise and works into a fiercely heavy groove that sounds more like prp's earlier free-rock punk-churn. Hey man, killer disc!

Noxagt -- The Iron Point [Load Records CD, 2004] Heavy. Pummel. Rumble. Power. Trio. Kjetil D Brandsdal, noise-maker and sound-stirrer from Norway, tunes down his bass and baritone guitars. And instead of THE lead guitar, we get Nils Erga filling in holes with violin, viola, and a bit of piano. Drums and percussion come from Jan Christian L Kyvik. Roar. Boar. Burrow. Up. Down. Deep. These European fellas rip the stuffin' out of something that you might call heavy metal, or that you could imagine as mid-70s Crimson without all the fancy doin's, or etc. They produce a huge, attractive, riffing sound that sounds simple until you think about what they're really doing. "A Blast from the Past" actually sounds like the post-hardcore thing that too many underground bands currently wear like a badge--except I always thought most post-'82 HC was dull kiddie music. This, on the other hand, is slab-melting sound made by grown men, and it just obliterates most of what's passed for "hard" or "intense" in recent years. They're probably very nice guys, but it sounds like Noxagt will come to your house in the middle of the night and burn it to the ground. The opening track, "Naked in France," could be an anthem to pound your fist into the clouds--except there aren't any words--so you'll most likely produce thunderstorms before you ever find the "message" that's contained only within the sound itself. On "Kling No Klokka," they finally do add a vocal (by Hagbard Heien), and things slow way down. For a moment. Then comes "Svartevatn," four minutes of prog-fug shovel-pounding bulldozer-humping that's not even slightly dainty, in spite of that four-letter word I used (prog). They close the proceedings with Tom Rapp's "Regions of May," which creeps along and shivers in the rain like a Velvet Underground drone-ballad reborn for our very depressing times. No vocals, though. Good grief, this is powerful shit.

Ultralyd -- Chromosome Gun [Load Records CD, 2005] Total intense fucking (post-)free-jazz destruction! Imagine the most balls-out moments of the Sonny Sharrock/Peter Brötzmann-led Last Exit combo pushed through 20 years of noise, and this is where the road ends (for now). This shit makes the typical Blowhole-style lo-fi not-jazz approach whither in comparison--strong sound-based throttle made by white guys who, for a change, have all the punch and drive of the African-American giants who created this sound in the first place. And it comes from Norway! Ultralyd is Frode Gjerstad (saxophone/clarinet), Anders Hana (guitar),
Kjetil Brandsdal (bass), and Morten J. Olsen (drums). The opening "Beautor" is a declaration of war against mediocrity--the sound of walls falling down on top of other walls--followed by a super-rocker called "Pink Mood." "Zooblast" reminds me of the instrumental elements of the great L.A. punk band Fear circa 1980--slithering one moment and rippin' the next. And then they start pulling things apart with "Ejaculatorium" and "Brown Degree": sax/drums call/response, but all outta time, guitar rings and bass thunders, everything's free and fragmented but together. Yeah, this is "jazz," all right--something that would not be unrecognizable if Ayler and Trane suddenly rose from the grave (I think they might grin in approval). The shreddin' 'core returns on "Glottality"--the 'Lyd quartet moving as one immense beast, thundering through yer ears like Godzilla in fast-forward. Bass thrums and drums space as "Last Resort" begins a slow wind-up to the end, sax (or clarinet?) squealing lowly but in a high register. It's all over before you think it's begun, which is the ultimate goal of the perfect high-energy FUCK. Breathless and seemingly effortless--yeah, what a grand time this sho' 'nuff IS.

ABBA -- Waterloo [Atlantic Records LP, 1974] On the basis of what was actually released at the time, 1974 was THE worst R&R year ever--at least until the 70s were over (never mind what was bubbling under the surface in '74). Except for maybe the second NY Dolls LP, this was my favorite album of that stupid (yet somehow groovy!) year. Waterloo is a near pefect pop-rock collection, a still weird mix of early 60s girl group/wimp-pop, mid-60s post-Beatles pre-psych whatever, late-60s bubblegum, Carpenters/MOR pop, etc. The title track was a brilliant top 40 move, but there's lots more here. "Sitting in the Palmtree" sounds like non-ironic 10cc exotica. "King Kong Song" adds heavy guitar to Elton John piano ("Saturday Night's Alright for Fighting") and silly vocals. The other heavy move is "Watch Out," with riffin' guitar, pop strings, Moog swoosh, and the promise that "I'm gonna tame you, wild thing!" Even the undeniable dreck of "Hasta Mañana" sounds cool. Disco eventually turned ABBA into just so much more 70s product, but the pre-disco here is tasty: the glam/bubblegum swirl of "Dance (While the Music Goes On)," and "My Mama Said" with slinky funk bass and chanky guitar that buries Blondie's late-70s disco moves. "Honey, Honey" comes on like the best 1969 bubblegum, but with added strings and "adult" sexual umph. "Ring Ring," co-written by true wimp icon Neil Sedaka, also reeks of chawed-up hard sugar. Even folk-rock 12-string guitar jangle gets dragged into the mix on the killer "Suzy-Hang-Around," although the lyrics are strictly grade school: "Get off our playground and stay away!" And there's more pud: "What About Livingstone" ("Wasn't it worth the while/Traveling up the Nile"), and "Gonna Sing You My Lovesong" (sweet as the sweetest poon of your deepest cream dreams). What an album! And oh them cute Swedish chicks!

Mike Rep & the Quotas -- Black Hole Rock [Old Age/No Age CD, 2005] Or as it says on the tray card: "The Harrisburg Ohio Sessions 2004." I was around for the 70s proto-punk "scene" (ha!), albeit in Alabama and a bit of time in Indiana, but Mike "Rep" Hummel was one dude I didn't know about in the way-back-then. More's the pity to my ears, because his music has precisely the type of crunch and noise that has always triggered the R&R fever in my mind: MC5 and Stooges, yeah, but WITH Sabbath and Alice Cooper rolled up in the same ball o' confusion. Later listeners probably don't understand the deep connection between all that stuff at the time. Think Rocket From The Tombs, not Pere Ubu or the Dead Boys. These recordings done a couple years ago find Rep and the boys stompin' like it was still 1975--forget about the graying hair and decades in between. They open with "Rocket Music On," a new version of a 30-year-old Quotas classic. It's not as "lo-fi" now, but still sounds like nitrous-fried space-metal of the highest lowest order. Lead guitarist Johnny Furnace starts his reverb attack here and keeps soaring throughout the disc. At times, the band sounds like Hawkwind if they'd come from middle Amerika and swallowed more cough syrup than LSD. Or dig drummer Tommy Jay's "Florida Blue," full of the sleek Midwestern raunch that fueled Midwestern bands from the Litter to Sister Ray. It rocks, yeah, but with a heavy slouch and a cynical twinkle that still sounds precisely like the late 70s with a case of beer. Check out Rep's killer-diller versions of the Ramones' "I Don't Want to Go Down to the Basement" (my all-time favorite R's tune!) and Jim Shepard's "Queen of the Underground" (with lyrics that sound way too much like the first girl I ever fucked!). Not to mention (but I will) new takes on the Quotas' "Black Hole," "Steppin Fetchit Is Dead" and "H M My Mind" ("In my cosmic reality, it's still 1973/No friends, no attention span/Getting high with 'Iron Man'/Heavy metal has destroyed my mind"). Need I say more? Rocket on, dudes!

James Brown -- It's a Mother [King Records LP, 1969] Oh man, this is one of THE killer JB albums. Loose but super tight, hard, sweaty, almost all groove (with a couple notable exceptions). Side 1 is 100% super funk: "Mother Popcorn" (parts 1 & 2), "Mashed Potato Popcorn" (parts 1 & 2), "I'm Shook," and the instrumental "Popcorn With a Feeling," featuring JB on organ and probably St. Clair Pinckney on flute. Side 2 starts with a vampin', riffin' two-part call-and-response audience-participation live thang called "The Little Groove Maker Me"--JB was even a master at that often painful R&B cliche. Then two of the always eclectic Mr. Brown's pop covers: "Any Day Now" given a real chopped-up funk spin, and "If I Ruled the World" sticking closer to pop melodrama. A reworking of JB's ground-breaking 1966 jam "Out of Sight" ("You're Still Out of Sight") sounds like Bobby Byrd on vocals--either that or JB's vocals have been slowed down a lot! The final "Top of the Stack" is a full-on jazz-funk instrumental that reminds me of Miles at his funkiest, Hank Mancini's fake jazz, and the MC5's "Skunk." Great album--try to find it on the original shitty King Records pressing from the 60s--then turn up the bass! Say it again: UNH!

O-Type -- Western Classics
[Family Vineyard CD, 2004] Guitarist Bruce Anderson and bassist Dale Sophiea, MX-80's main musical men, have always had a fascination with movie (and TV) soundtracks, so this disc is a natural: seven movie themes done up in the current MX-80/O-Type cut-and-paste style. If you haven't been paying attention for the past couple decades, O-Type is what happens to MX-80 when Rich Stim isn't doing vocals. Same guys (minus Rich), similar vibe, different name. Along with Bruce and Dale, the group includes drummers Dave Mahoney and Marc Weinstein, and guitarist Jim Hrabetin. Besides playing bass, Bruce also adds "narrative flow"--i.e., he makes musical sense of the performances, samples, and loops that comprise their current approach. This collection is a deeply zoned experience that makes me wish I still had a good L connection! It doesn't really sound like the Dead, but there's a dense, spacious atmosphere that evokes similar feelings (like I said about connections!). Bruce plays beautiful, stinging, soaring solos throughout. And Dale's "flow" is so effective that it's easy to forget which track you've already heard. The themes they use are from these "Western classics": The Searchers, The Manchurian Candidate, 3 Faces of Eve, Point Blank, Mean Streets, Out of the Past, and (for 30+ minutes!) McCabe and Mrs. Miller. This is a great album within which to get very lost.

Allun -- Onitsed
[Bar La Muerte (Italy) CD, 2005] Sex 'n death--hold yr breath spread yr legs up the ante--noise no wave baby rattle--shake 'n shriek free freek rock high heels 'n drone--Yoko no no no Godz no no no John Cage no no no. The avant kinky gals of Allun strike once again, although what was once a quartet is now the duo of Stefania Pedretti (vocals, guitar, violin, toys) and Natalia Saurin (toys, appliances, radio, CD player, samples). The two artists build up a pretty dense wall of sound (with just a bit of help from Silvia Grosso, A034, and Mae Starr). Stefania moans and sings, while children play. Hit the triangle again. A worming bit o' feedback follows itself home. Underwater flyin' saucers 'n monster makeup shakeup. There are tittering, skittering video-arcade pussy assaults and otherworldly corset-binding electronica. Toys 'n violin scrape up against panty percussion pretty horror. It's hard to know what gets lost in translation from Italian to Amerikan, both conceptually and in literal words, but it seems that Onitsed may be the most "serious" Allun release so far. It sure seems hefty, and I mean even the literal weight of this bit o' matter: the CD comes packaged inside an elaborate full-color booklet with lots of Allun photos from different periods of the band's existence. Is this a summing up? A bumming out? A scumming in? For some stupid reason, Allun has received far less attention than many inferior artists on the international noise stage. Dunno if it's the cultural differences, or more likely, because they don't suck up to the "important" U.S. record collectors who don't really listen to the music they promote. Whatever--this is way excellent shit--a golden shower of brilliant ideas and extremely listenable sounds.

Rodd Keith -- Saucers in the Sky
[Roaratorio CD, 2005, recorded circa 1963-1974] Rodd Keith was the musical genius behind an unknown number of records from that most obscure of American pop forms: the song-poem. You know--those strange records pressed in small quantities for the amateur lyricists who responded to magazine ads from Hollywood companies that would turn your poem or lyrics into a song for a fee. Rodd composed music, did arrangements, sang, and played on hundreds of the quickie records. This disc collects 26 examples of these strange, sometimes absurdly inspired, and often downright bad records. They're done in a variety of popular 60s/70s genres: R&R, R&B, C&W, psychedelic rock, adult pop, funk, etc. Rodd was a musician up to the task of turning this odd hack work into listenable music, sometimes creating very cool genre pieces filled with obviously non-professional lyrics. One of the best is "My Living Doll" (lyrics by Joseph Pugel), which sounds like a groovy Del Shannon demo--one of the few tracks here that doesn't reek of brain damage or artistic depression. For instance, "The Merry-Go-Down" (words from Ray Bon Giorno) is like a drugged-out meeting of the Lennon Sisters and Frank Sinatra Jr. Or dig Don Gaydick's (!) "Go Go Girlie," which could be a warped version of mid-60s Hanna-Barbera cartoon rock. In the late 60s, Rodd became an intense tripper--consuming all manners of mind-altering drugs--and sadly fell to his death while walking the railing on the Hollywood Bridge overpass. You can hear his acid-drenched self coming through on "A Soothing Dream, But . . . " (words from J. C. Sullivan), a dark psychedelic ballad with great fuzzed-out guitars and spooky vocals. Or check L. Smith's anti-hippie lyric "Don't Be a Dope" ("LSD is not for me"), with an arrangement that sounds totally dosed. Neill Lidholm's "Saucers in the Sky" has Rodd doing a good-timey rock tune for the crazed lyrics: "Oh, what fun we'll have each day/Way up in outer space/That's the true American way/When we win the race." One of my favorites is "Cancel My Order," low-rent Motown-style R&B with the chorus: "Cancel my order/Send me back my quarter/Cancel my order for love." Lyricist Thelma Dye must've done a lot of mail-ordering, including her own now-classic record (wonder how many of these poets know that their work is now being collected and enjoyed by thousands of people!). I also dig "Lettuce and Lace" (by Mildred Goodman), given a pop-country vibe kinda like Billy Joe Royal or Joe South: "She was a pretty waitress/In a pretty place/She was serving lettuce/She was wearing lace." There are two unreleased tracks that are a cut above most of the rest and not really song-poems: "Get On My Honda, Rhonda" (co-written by Rodd and Kevin Marshall) is uptempo psychedelic funk, not the Brian Wilson knock-off you would expect from the title. And "Here Comes the Judge" is a "soundalike" done for a session with Rodd's friend Del Casher (who contributes liner notes, along with Rodd's daughter Stacey). It's certainly not as funky the original by Shorty Long, but it's good goofy fun. This is a weird and wonderful collection.

Nilsson -- Son of Schmilsson [RCA Records LP, 1972] In 1971, singer-songwriter Harry Nilsson released Nilsson Schmilsson, which spawned no less than three radio hits ("Coconut," a cover of Badfinger's "Without You", and the perfect-for-FM rock jam "Jump Into the Fire"). It was a nice, slightly addled pop-rock album, produced by Richard Perry, and followed Harry's earlier mediocre LPs (you might recall his early shining moment as the singer of Fred Neil's "Everybody's Talkin'," featured in Midnight Cowboy). In '72, Nilsson teamed up with Perry again and released this masterpiece, which spawned no big hits whatsoever. The mix of Harry's weirdest songs, stoned London studio musicians, bizarre humor, and behind-the-curtain self-references was just too twisted for Amerika caught in the throes of transition from 60s strangeness and charm to 70s paranoia and bland pop music. But it is a beauty. The opening "Take 54" sets the tone for the rest of the album. It's a chugging Lennon-style 70s rocker, with a backing band that includes Ringo Starr ("Richie Snare"), Lowell George, Nicky Hopkins, Klaus Voorman, Jim Price, and Bobby Keys. Check the lyrics: "It was take 54 when she walked in the door with the red light on it/I knew in a minute if I wanted to get in it, that I'd have to get on it/I sang my balls off for you, baby/I worked my fingers to the bone/I closed my eyes to hit the high notes/But when I woke up, I was alone/Baby baby, come back. . . . " It ends with a bit of goofy humor involving producer Perry. The other rudely rockin' non-hit is "You're Breakin' My Heart," with lyrics that were startling for '72: "You're breakin' my heart/You're tearin' it apart/So fuck you . . . You stepped on my ass/You're breakin' my glasses too." George Harrison is on slide guitar. There are several fine, out-of-kilter ballads: "Remember (Christmas)" (lush and dreamlike), "Ambush," "Turn On Your Radio," "The Lottery Song," and "Spaceman." The latter is very druggy, with low doo-wop vocal accents and a melodic hook that sounds like the Partridge Family! And there's "Joy," a C&W spoof that outdoes most similar attempts from the 70s: "Joy to the World was a beautiful girl/But to me Joy meant only sorrow." A cover of the El Dorados' 1955 rocker "At My Front Door" blasts along with hot guitars from Peter Frampton and Chris Spedding (both play on several songs). The album ends with two strange ones. The silly "I'd Rather Be Dead" ("than wet my bed"!) is driven by accordion and features the senior citizens of the Stepney & Pinner Choir-Club No. 6. And the LP closes a calypso/50s-based thumper called "The Most Beautiful World in the World" ("I love the way you wear your trees"). Richard Perry's cinematic production and arrangements are amazing throughout, creating a vibe kinda like Van Dyke Parks's Song Cycle crossed with Sgt. Peppers and lots of humor (not even counting Nilsson's lyrical content). Nilsson made quite a few more albums, but his creative spark was soon lost to the 1970s party scene in L.A.--too much coke and booze. In any case, this album is an incredible work, full of exquisitely crafted pop music and great fun. Dig.

The Daily Flash -- I Flash Daily
[Psycho Records (UK), 1984, recorded 1966/1967] Formed in Seattle in 1965, the Daily Flash was among the best American psyhedelic groups, although the band never even did an LP. Their first single "Jack of Diamonds," recorded while still in Seattle, is a great slice of acid-touched folk-based hard-rock. It begins with a wave of feedback and staggering drums before locking into a freight-train blues that falls somewhere between Dylan's Chess Records-style electric swagger and the Byrds at their speediest. On the flip side was a groovy version of Dylan's "Queen Jane Approximately." In the spring of '66, the Daily Flash moved to San Francisco, where they found a snug fit in that early lysergic scene. They then moved to L.A., where they recorded a second great single and split apart. "Green Rocky Road," like their first single, is an uptempo folk-based rocker, catchy enough to become a regional top 40 hit and also be featured in Peter Bogdanovich's film Targets (released in 1968, though, a year after the single was on the radio). On the single's flip side, "The French Girl" has a baroque feel, complete with harpsichord, but also features superb Byrds-like harmonies. There are three other studio tracks on this collection. Probably the best is Eric Anderson's "Violets of Dawn," done up as drippy L.A.-style folkadelica--not unlike the better Monkees tracks of similar vibe. On "The Girl from North Alberta," you can hear why guitarist Doug Hastings was one of the players in the final Buffalo Springfield breakdown--the song is a very nice mix of Stills and Young that would've sounded perfect on
Buffalo Springfield Again. "Barbara Flowers" is another one of the Daily Flash's acidic folk ballads--this one with an English folk quality that is frequently interrupted by stinging psychedelic guitar. This LP's second side is taken up by two long live tracks. Herbie Hancock's "Cantaloupe Island," recorded October '67 back home in Seattle by a newly configured Daily Flash (half the band split), blazes along in a modal way not unlike the Allman Brothers Band a couple years later. The final flash here is an extended blast of "Queen Jane Approximately" at the Whisky in L.A. "Give us this day our daily flash." Amen.

Patrick Sky -- Songs That Made America Famous [Adelphi Records LP, 1973] Patrick Sky is a post-Dylan folkie who released his first album in '65, and is probably best known as a songwriter. His tune "Many a Mile" was recorded by Buffy Sainte-Marie, John Kay, and others. But for me, his crowning achievement is this amazing LP. It was recorded in 1971 and rejected by just about every small folkie label and mainstream major label until Adelphi Records had the balls to release it in 1973. Even by the standards of 2006, it's strong stuff. In fact, it's more relevant now than ever, in spite of its supposed topical nature. Long before there was punk-rock or political correctness, Patrick tossed off this collection of offensive, blasphemous, hilarious, politically savage folk-based insanity. Nothing is sacred, and everything is downright laughable. His perspective is certainly from the so-called hard left, but even with tongue firmly in cheek, much of his theoretical audience did not think this appropriate. "Fight for Liberation" attacks all of modern capitalist/Christian society: "Then we'll get a bloody rope, and we'll hang the fuckin' Pope/And we'll burn the Sistine Chapel to the ground/Then we'll turn our tommy guns on the screaming, ravaged nuns/And the people's voice will be the only sound . . . So, if you hate the working class/But you'd like to save your ass/Then you better give your money to the poor/Or we'll sell your mother's twat to a sailor, or your yacht/And we'll turn your favorite daughter to a whore." Patrick has more insults for the church on "Vatican Caskets" and "The Pope." But he also has rude words for feminists ("Radcliffe Highway"), black folks and other minorities ("Bake Dat Chicken Pie"), rock'n'roll ("Rock Star"), the physically deformed ("Ramblin' Hunchback"), etc. On "Child Molesting Blues," he plays the role of an obscure country-blues singer named Blind Funk Earwax, whose only record is an ode to his 12-year-old girlfriend. Racist rednecks are blasted on "Okie," while he goes after both racists and the U.S. President on "Under All Flags": "The President's flag is the kind of flag that a sane man wipes his ass on . . . The Rebel flag is a filthy rag that a Yankee wipes his ass on." The acapella "Luang Prabang" is a brutal anti-war statement: "And now the boys all envy me/I fought for Christian democracy/With nothing but air where my balls used to be/But now I'm a fuckin' hero." The traditional dead-chick-in-the-river ballad is rewritten as "Yonkers Girl": "But I did not heed her wailing cries/I only beat her more/Until the ground around my feet/Was covered with her gore/I took her by her long black hair/And I drug her round and round/And I chunked her into the river/What flows by Yonkers town." Yep, this is a great album--now available on CD (forget which label--I know Patrick himself never got paid a penny for the original or the reissue, and suggests that if possible you download it for free). I got this at age 15 or 16--shortly after it was released. Fellow rock writer Tom Bingham, who was about ten years older, told me to write Adelphi for a promo, but warned me: "Don't play it when your parents are around!"

Advertising -- "Stolen Love"/"Suspender Fun"
[EMI Records (England) single, 1977] In the pre-punk 70s, I really dug Big Star, the Raspberries, even things like the first Blue Ash LP and various Hudson Brothers tracks--but once there was an official genre called "power pop," in '77/'78, I found most of it pretty repulsive. The stuff was usually either obvious sell-out poop or overly clever art-fop-pop. Well, here's a winner from the big year of 1977 itself. It's a very silly record, played by guys who look like they're auditioning for an English TV sitcom, but it rocks in a big Sweet-like manner and is full of good clean dirty fun. The A-side sounds like a glam-metal tango, with the useful advice that "people shouldn't care any more if love falls off the back of a lorrie [truck]." The flip is even better: a thumpin' tribute to suspender (garter) fetishism, with punctuations of guitar squiggles that sound like synthesizer and guitar scrapes that sound like Tommy Hall's electric jug on the 13th Floor Elevators records!

ADC Band -- "Long Stroke"[Cotillion Records single, 1978] Super stupid P-Funk rip-off that's always tickled this vanilla Funkateer's booty. Heavy sexy groove, poppin' bass, female vocal chants, Hendrix-y guitar, floatin' synth, and a Bootsy-like lead vocal: "I'm comin' to you from the outer regions of the galaxy, flashlightin' on down to the mother earth" . . . "Drop your socks and let the fungus be among us" . . . "Could you accept what's behind the ninth door?" And on the fade: "Mary, don't take me on no bad trip, baby," a reference to the obscure 1969 acid-funk classic "Mary Don't Take Me On No Bad Trip" by Fugi (check In Yo' Face! Vol. ½: The Roots of Funk CD). These guys had a few Cotillion LPs, unheard by me (anybody out there got the scoop?). My copy of this single is a mono/stereo promo single, so it's the only track I've heard by 'em.

Stuff I Been Listenin' To
Stuff I Been Watchin'
Spam Pomes: Junk Email, Unedited (& Uncredited)

Stooges in St. Louis 1974 photos by Bruce Cole
Creme Soda Q&A 1974
1974 Rock Writers Symposium in Buffalo NY by anonymous

Teenstar 69 online reprint