Monthly Archives: October 2016

“Vinyl, vinyl…everywhere!”

“Growing up surrounded by music meant libraries of vinyl. From Grandpa Vic’s Stride era piano albums thru swing, big band, be bop, blues, to the latest ’70s release. My father bought mr for my 8th birthday Eddie Cochran’s The 25th Anniversary Album—double vinyl with photos and biography etc. That was the true moment I realized the importance of music on vinyl. If I wasn’t in school, I was in my bedroom playing Eddie Cochran day in day out.

Through that record I started collecting all the ’50s greats—Little Richard, Buddy Holly, Sam Cooke, and Elvis etc. I would try to emulate the singing, dance moves…I was besotted! My brother would be cranking Nina Simone to Genesis upstairs, and I’d be dancing to Lloyd Price’s “Stagger Lee.”

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It’s not a great secret, but the spicy story of Eskew Reeder Jr., better known to the world as Esquerita, still requires a periodic retelling, the tale relating to newcomers that Richard Wayne Penniman aka Little Richard wasn’t the only wildly flamboyant piano rocker to inhabit the supposedly squaresville decade of the 1950s. But if that was the only reason to keep Esquerita’s name alive he would’ve been forgotten long ago. Fact is the man rocked with reckless abandon and his stuff holds up gloriously.

The life of the man known as Esquerita holds quite a few chapters, all of them interesting if too many fraught with darkness, desperation and (worst of all) an unhappy ending to ever translate into a big screen biopic, for the feel-good stuff all happens early and there’s no late in life redemption. The chronicle of this South Carolina native hits its highpoint with his one real chance for commercial success, the opportunity coming amidst the wild atmosphere of the decade from whence rock ‘n’ roll was born (or if you prefer was finally bequeathed with a name).

Due to the influence of Gene Vincent, Esquerita ended up signed to Capitol Records, where the label obviously hoped to repeat the same pattern of copycat success against Little Richard that they’d scored via Vincent’s Blue Caps in reaction to the retail juggernaut that was Elvis Presley. Obviously Esquerita came nowhere close to scoring a hit single, though Capitol can’t be said to have given up on him without trying. They even released a self-titled LP in 1959 and tossed on an exclamation point after this manic maestro’s name in hopes of stirring up some excitement in the marketplace. No dice sadly; the man was destined to be a solid if enduring underground figure.

Esquerita continued to haunt recording studios until the end of the ‘60s, mellowing his style and even using a different moniker (The Magnificent Malochi) in hopes of changing his chart fortunes, but by the next decade he’d been absorbed into the undiluted rawness of the old New York City subculture. When he was discovered playing a weekly gig at the nightclub Tramps by future members of the A-Bones Billy Miller and Miriam Linna, he was described as having suffered numerous hard life knockdowns, only to find himself back on the bandstand every Monday night.

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When it comes to the first wave of punk, Wayne (and later Jayne) County and the Electric Chairs are often sadly overlooked. And this despite such raunch’n’roll classics as “Toilet Love,” “Fuck Off,” and “Cream in My Jeans.” County, a Georgia transgender woman, combined glam punk with the sheer camp outrage of New York City’s Theater of the Ridiculous, and the results were both hilarious and irresistible. Yet none of the band’s albums were released in the United States, an inexplicable omission unless one concludes that U.S. record execs found County and the Electric Chairs’ songs simply too sleazy to touch.

County and the Electric Chairs were the biggest proponents of the trash rock aesthetic this side of the New York Dolls, but they took things much, much farther than the Dolls ever did. County might come on stage wearing a plastic vagina with straw pubic hair, and punk photographer Roberta Bayley recalls the time County, having decided (amongst many others, including Bayley) that Patti Smith’s “I’m the Second Coming of Arthur Rimbaud” shtick was so much pretentious horseshit, “did a big parody of her where he came on and he had a black wig and a white shirt, a tie and he did this whole thing about following one of Jim Morrison’s pubic hairs down the sewers of Paris.” If Jayne had never done anything but that, I’d still love her.

Subtle County wasn’t, but the Electric Chairs also released such bona fide trash-free classics as the celebratory “Max’s Kansas City,” the transgender anthem “Man Enough to Be a Woman,” and the most delirious song about wanting to have a number one hit since the Raspberries’ “Overnight Sensation” in “Trying to Get on the Radio.” And the best way to listen to the multi-faceted County is to pick up a copy of 1982’s Best of Jayne/Wayne County and the Electric Chairs, which includes all of the above songs as well as such searing rockers as “Bad in Bed,” “Hot Blood,” and “Night Time,” to say nothing of the lovely “Eddie & Sheena” and the Transformer-flavored “Midnight Pal.”

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“Once upon a time, there was a child whose light shined so bright…”

“You have been telling your story in personal terms… now tell it in mythological terms. Take the story past the wounding to the place of transformation. When finished share it, a show put to music and dance [and sing] the living myth.”
—JEAN HOUSTON

“She goes on a journey into the woods to find herself. The deep forest of the unconscious…She has many adventures trials and tests and gets lost along the way and off the path. She returns home after years…home within her true self…”

One record early on, I remember having an impact on me was Harper’s Bazaar “Anything Goes.” Records like this brought something tangible to the experience of listening where the moment is lingered upon and stayed with, as in how one follows the thread of a story that unfolds. This allows for a deeper experience of listening when the moment moves into a timeless realm.

“Art enables us to find ourselves and lose ourselves at the same time.”
—THOMAS MERTON

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Together with her recent work in 50FOOTWAVE, Kristin Hersh is well-known for an abundant solo discography and as a member of Throwing Muses, who alongside fellow New Englanders The Pixies helped to pioneer the onslaught of Alternative Rock. Not one to rest on laurels, in recent years she’s explored the vocation of author with noted success, her words occasionally joined with continued musical pursuit. Wyatt at the Coyote Palace is the latest example if these fruitfully intertwining threads; an auteur project if ever one existed, it combines two CDs with a hardcover book of prose and lyrics, and is available October 28 in the UK and November 11 in the US through Omnibus Press.

Hersh’s writing career began in a manner fairly standard for a working musician, specifically by composing essays and partaking in that bastion of the ’80s fanzine press, the tour diary, with her work appearing via her own website and as a guest blogger for Powells.com. But Hersh wasn’t just any working musician; this seemingly newfound outlet for creative expression branched off from impressive musical achievement having commenced way back in 1984 through Throwing Muses’ self-released EP “Stand Up.”

As the first American signing to the important UK post-punk label 4AD, Throwing Muses gained prominence through an untitled ’86 debut and House Tornado in ’88; in addition to Hersh, listeners were also introduced to the talents of Tanya Donelly, who departed after The Real Ramona in 1991. Releasing three more albums before a long hiatus and the periodic resurgences of Throwing Muses in 2003 and Purgatory / Paradise in ’13, even with Bernard Georges playing bass since 1992 and David Narcizo filling the drum seat from way back in ’83, it’s Hersh who’s most immediately identified with the name.

This is partially due to her role as songwriter and vocalist, and the situation is surely amplified by her productivity as a solo artist, though Hersh’s releases under her own name have consistently explored a dynamic unique from the band framework of Throwing Muses. This scenario reaches an apex with Wyatt at the Coyote Palace; with a few exceptions, her previous solo output has welcomed a varying degree of guest input, but as the promo notes for her latest explicitly state, this is the second consecutive occasion where she “performs and creates all instruments and sounds.”

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I’ve seen thousands of live shows in my life across all different genres but never have I witnessed anything quite like a Die Antwoord show. Imagine the ability to harness pure energy, bleeding edge visuals, art, hip-hop, and some of the biggest hooks in music today into a single performance. It was controlled chaos, completely unhinged, surreal, completely original, and dare I say, borderline genius.

Hailing from South Africa and led by the outlandish duo known as Ninja and Yolandi, Die Antwoord are a rave-rap duo who embrace the Zef culture from their homeland. What is Zef? According to Yolandi, “It’s associated with people who soup their cars up and rock gold and shit. Zef is, you’re poor but you’re fancy. You’re poor but you’re sexy, you’ve got style.” If you’ve seen the movie Chappie then you already have a glimpse into what this translates to on the big screen and what it means to embrace this lifestyle. In the 2015 science fiction film, the duo were cast to play themselves in the lead roles and did so remarkably well.

Having never been to an EDM show myself, I wasn’t really sure what to expect. In fact, when I think EDM, I usually think of a DJ on stage where the lights overshadow the actual artist. This is why I would hesitate to label this an EDM show as in this case it was the complete opposite. The crowd was hanging on every single lyric, rhyme, downbeat, etc. while completely losing their minds.

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“Recently there was a rumor that Amoeba in Hollywood was gonna close—real glad that isn’t happening.”

“Not only was Amoeba the first record store to carry our music, they also hooked me up. One time I went in to pick up an Animal Collective record, and on the way out the guy running their coat check asked me if I wanted a box of records. People donate vinyl to Amoeba all the time, and some of it’s in unplayable (or at least unsellable) condition.

I took the offer. Inside were lots of broken discs, but also working copies of Are You Experienced by Jimi Hendrix and Round About Midnight by Miles Davis. I love streaming music, but I wouldn’t have listened to those records nearly as much if I didn’t get them in that fluke turn of events.

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The Vinyl Guide is a weekly podcast for fans and collectors of vinyl records. Each week is an audio-documentary on your favourite records, often including interviews with band members and people who were part of the project.

It’s hosted by Nate Goyer, a self-described vinyl maniac who enjoys listening to records and sharing the stories behind them. Despite his Yankee accent, Nate lives in Sydney, Australia with his wife, 2 kids, and about 1,500 records. (But only about 1,000 of them his wife knows about.)

The Vinyl Guide takes records one by one, telling the tale of how they came to be, why the work is important, and then shares how collectors can tell one pressing from another. Learn more at the TheVinylGuide.com or simply subscribe via iTunes or RSS feed.

“Mike Doughty is one of my favourite artists—beautiful songs, striking lyrics, melodies that stick in the head for days and he’s prolific, so there’s more of him to enjoy. Today he stops by The Vinyl Guide and discusses his craft as well as his new LP The Heart Watches While the Brain Burns available now. Plus we feature a special track for listeners of The Vinyl Guide!”

Although largely remembered for their relationship to the first generation of Boston hardcore, The Proletariat stood apart from the breakneck speed and youthful abandon of the era while offering a sound that was just as intense. Drawing frequent comparisons to Gang of Four, they avoided generic thrash through precise, politically-oriented urgency that proved attractive to both the budding HC scene and to an older punk-friendly generation. Enduring as a highlight of the ’80s underground, the band’s debut Soma Holiday has just received a welcome vinyl reissue through S-S Records.

To get an idea of how integral The Proletariat was to the early ’80s Massachusetts rock scene, consider that they played shows with Mission of Burma, SS Decontrol, The Lyres, The F.U.’s, Gang Green, Dangerous Birds, The Neats, The Freeze, Dredd Foole & the Din, DYS, Christmas, Deep Wound, and Volcano Suns. Additional gigs with non-Beantowners include the Dead Boys, Richard Hell & the Voidoids, Johnny Thunders, Minor Threat, Flipper, Black Flag, The Flesh Eaters, Bush Tetras, Bad Brains, Dead Kennedys, and GG Allin.

Akin to the synopsis opening this review, basically every summary detailing The Proletariat’s initial existence from 1980 to ’85 (they’ve reunited for gigs in November) links them to the period’s hardcore uprising. The connection isn’t overstated; after forming in Fall River, MA in 1980 and putting out the 7-song Distortion cassette on their own dime the following year, in 1982 they ended up on two key Boston hardcore compilations.

This is Boston, Not L.A. and its accompanying “Unsafe at Any Speed” 7-inch, both released by the Modern Method label, document the HC explosion of their city in a manner similar to Dischord’s Washington, DC overview Flex Your Head and Touch and Go’s “Process of Elimination” EP, The Proletariat’s comp inclusions lending stylistic breadth to a scenario often suspicious and occasionally downright disdainful of departures from the loud-fast norm.

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