As much weird, loud, obtuse, and left of the margin music that we love and champion here, we also never shy away from music that we know is undeniably beautiful. Whether it's the majestic West African Kora music of Djibril Diabate and Lanaya or the evocative piano compositions of Lucian Cilio or the sweeping elegance of The Rachels. There is a long list of music that we cherish that manages to be both so beautiful and filled with soul. Richard Crandell deserves a spot right on the top of our all time beautiful music list. Playing the mbira (the thumb piano) to mesmerizing perfection, his last record was one of our favorites of 2004. Three years in the making and Spring Steel is another batch of stellar minimalist compositions that make us melt every time we hear them. There is a tenderness and focus to Crandell's playing that has the ability to make everything else in the world just fade away as you let his soft hypnotic sounds entrance you. Crandell is a rare performer, with such a delicate touch and impeccable taste.
Spring Steel sounds almost like Colleen paying homage to Steve Reich. Methodical and skilled yet so filled with soul and soothing power.
Oddly enough we've never reviewed a Cranes record, a band who have steadily released really good records since the early '90s. They are one of those groups that most people thought vanished in the mid '90s not realizing they've been around this whole time, and their last album 2004's Particle & Waves was actually one of their finest moments. Long before Mum and Pluramon were crafting their shoegazey and delicately dreamy offerings, Cranes really helped lay the groundwork for what could be done with ethereal young-girl sounding vocals mixed with lush and woozy instrumentation. Cranes continue to brilliantly bring together elements of innocence, yearning and sadness with such satisfying results. Recommended!
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SORRY.
Second Mille Plateaux release by this glitchy electronica artiste, who also recorded the excellent "Approximate Love Boat" disc under the name Lo Res. Includes a remix by Meme recording artist Henrik Johannson.
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
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Very good, very odd debut on the revered Mille Plateaux label from a So Cal electronica dadaist who has previously recorded for Phthalo and Metroplex. Warped 4/4 techno with wild swells of dark and spastic drum programming...
Crash Course In Science is a quintessentially American synth-punk / minimal wave outfit, whose primitive use of electronics find sonic sympaptico with Devo and Suicide. These Philly weirdos met in art-school in the late '70s and toiled in the shadows of the industrial harbors at the Eastern edge of that city, revelling in the isolation and the refuse. The trio released a couple of singles at that time and were in the process of recording a full album, only to presumably dissolve before that album's completion. In 2007, Crash Course In Science re-entered the public consciousness once again thanks to the appearance of their cult hit "Flying Turns" on an early Minimal Wave compilation, later reprised on the Stones Throw anthology a couple year later. All of this warranted the much needed Vinyl-On-Demand boxset, which featured the Signals From Pier Thirteen EP, a completed mix of that aforementioned unfinished album, and a bunch of live tracks.
As strong as many of the tracks were on that compilation, Signals From Pier Thirteen is seen by the connoisseurs as the essential document for CCIS. While just four tracks, it is an absurd, vibrant romp of jacked-up / punk-speed rhythms of proto-techno and bracingly strident sequences of metal-dance noise. "Cardboard Lamb" sports a pretty damn catchy one-note bassline that is eeriely similar to LCD Soundsystem's "Losing My Edge", but written some 25 years earlier. The instrumental "Crashing Song" is prescient of the Pan Sonic attack of accelerant rhythm as cast through the lens of Throbbing Gristle's Death Factory. CCIS next delivers "Flying Turns" with its tinny, flanged rhythms and the monotone vocals from Mallory Yago, who seems to have more than a few circuits that are shorting out in her brain as she chants through each of the songs. The propulsive electronics of "Factory Floorhead" is an exemplary work of unhinged paranoia sounding like warehouses filled with sirens blaring in lockstep to automaton robots going berzerk in their danse macabre in welding carparts to their human masters. Absurd and vibrant, this makes for yet another great blast from the past courtesy of Dark Entries.
We had never heard of French garage rock / trash pop duo Crash Normal before, but holy shit are we loving this stuff. Inhabiting the same sonic space as other groups like Thee Oh Sees, Sic Alps, the Mayyors, Ty Segall and all those cats, but Crash Normal take that fuzzed out garage pop sound we love so much, and go fucking nuts, dousing it in distortion, piling on echo and reverb, their garage pop veering dangerously close to noise rock and we're loving it. Two guitarists. Drums AND drum machine, although it's hard to tell which usually, these guys run their shit through a wall of fuzz pedals, and what comes out the other side is pure blown out garage pop BLISS. Big booming, echo drenched poppiness that chugs and pounds and churns and crashes, the vocals a reverbed yelp/croon, the drums a primitive plod buried beneath CN's wall of sound, the jams flit from loose ramshackle chaos to chugging super distorted pound, the production is what makes it, totally blown out, needles pegged at all times, every single sound so in-the-red it starts to sound utterly psychedelic, there are whirring organs, the vocals occasionally get doused in delay and become dubbed out and disappear into clouds of blurred effects, some of the tracks are twang flecked, others are swaggery Stooges-y stomps, others are surfy, and others are gloomy and somehow lo-fi while still managing to be speaker-destroyingly LOUD, and every song is catchy as hell, like stick in your head pop gem catchy, so much so that we find ourselves not wanting to listen to much else. Needless to say, fans of all of the above mentioned outfits, and really any of the current crop of garage rock combos, this shit will flip your lid.
We reviewed the first three reissues from legendary punk rock outfit Crass a few lists back, and now here's the 4th (of 6) in the series Anarcho-punk legends Crass are finally getting the deluxe reissue campaign they always deserved, but probably never really wanted anyway. Having spent the seventies and eighties kicking against the pricks, these DIY iconoclasts pretty much lived and breathed punk rock like few others since, making music, putting on gigs, setting up squats, coordinating political actions, starting a label, creating art, making films, advocating animal rights, environmentalism, feminism, direct action, anarchism, pacifism, criticizing various subcultures, encouraging dialogues, and encouraging participation and protest, and obviously, and perhaps most pertinent to this here review, making some of the most awesome punk records EVER.
These records sound impossibly and incredibly fresh, intense and dramatic and emotional, heavy and hooky, jagged and jittery, their ideals clearly on display, backed up by musical muscle, pop smarts, and some super original and innovative sounds and songs. The crazy thing, revisiting these records again, is how much they've influenced modern underground music, there are at least a handful of bands, who now with these records fresh in our ears, sound almost criminally beholden to Crass: Arctic Monkeys, The Fall, Louis XIV, Art Brut... the list goes on.
Legendary for a reason, all the Crass records should be required listening for punks and metalheads and hell, anyone into underground sounds, and are totally worth revisiting, we had sort of forgotten how goddamn great all three of these records are, and even if you still own beat up original copies, there's enough extra stuff, music and artwork wise, that they're totally worth picking up again...
Christ The Album, Crass's 4th full length, might be the group's most famous (or infamous), again not shying away from controversy, right down to the record's title, and of course the lyrical content, sonically, Christ found the band sounding as full and lush and well produced as ever. The sound was still frantic, and frenzied, blasting and thrashing and relentless, but surprisingly polished, and the band at their least 'punk', the tracks rife with killer hooks, and plenty of pop, but the record itself remained difficult, and as concerned with the message as the music, loads of samples, all the tracks beginning with a little filmstrip style beep, followed by snippets of newscasts and interviews and various other politically charged recordings before the songs kicked in.
And nowhere was this poppier sound more evident than on "Beg Your Pardon" which sounds almost like their own version of "Train In Vain" (the song infamously left off the sleeve of the Clash's London Calling, supposedly because it was WAY too poppy, although officially it was because the track was added at the last minute), which is funny, considering Crass' outspoken disdain for The Clash, but "Beg Your Pardon" is impossibly hooky, with jangly guitars, irresistible melodies, and at times does sound quite a bit like the Clash. There's also the brooding, super rhythmic "Birth Control Rock 'n' Roll", with its frantic drumming and harmony vox, and the soaring, epic, drone-y and almost proggy "Reality Whitewash", and we could go on and on...
After this, the band would release just one more record (the sprawling single song/album Yes Sir, I Will) so Christ definitely stands as the final testament to Crass's sonic journey from the raw punk of The Feeding Of The 5000, to the polished pop flecked punk found here.
Like the original vinyl reissue, the original disc is augmented by a second disc, a collection of demos and studio outtakes, called Well Forked - But Not Dead, and like the other reissues, there's a massive booklet including liner notes and lyrics, as well as a fold out poster, all housed in a super swank slipcover, which fits together with all the other reissues, the various covers combining to form a single image. Cool.
These anarcho-punk legends are finally getting the deluxe reissue campaign they always deserved, but probably never really wanted anyway. Having spent the seventies and eighties kicking against the pricks, these DIY iconoclasts pretty much lived and breathed punk rock like few others since, making music, putting on gigs, setting up squats, coordinating political actions, starting a label, creating art, making films, advocating animal rights, environmentalism, feminism, direct action, anarchism, pacifism, criticizing various subcultures, encouraging dialogues, and encouraging participation and protest, and obviously, and perhaps most pertinent to this here review, making some of the most awesome punk records EVER.
These records sound impossibly and incredibly fresh, intense and dramatic and emotional, heavy and hooky, jagged and jittery, their ideals clearly on display, backed up by musical muscle, pop smarts, and some super original and innovative sounds and songs. The crazy thing, revisiting these records again, is how much they've influenced modern underground music, there are at least a handful of bands, who now with these records fresh in our ears, sound almost criminally beholden to Crass: Arctic Monkeys, The Fall, Louis XIV, Art Brut... the list goes on.
Legendary for a reason, all three of these records should be required listening for punks and metalheads and hell, anyone into underground sounds, and are totally worth revisiting, we had sort of forgotten how goddamn great all three of these records are, and even if you still own beat up original copies, there's enough extra stuff, music and artwork wise, that they're totally worth picking up again...
Feeding Of The 5000 was the group's incendiary debut, originally released in 1978, and almost didn't come out, as the pressing plant refused to carry it due to the lyrical content of the opening song, an intense spoken word rallying cry against religion, against God, filled with violent images and foul language, all over a field of buzzing feedback. They replaced the song with silence, in protest, and then and there decided to start their own label, which then re-released the record the way it was initially envisioned. And even now, 30+ years later, FOT5K is a fierce, frantic chunk of pure punk rock, wild chaotic angular guitars, wild scowling urgent vox, caffeinated drumming, samples and snippets of spoken word, all wound up into something frenzied and frenetic, heavy on the hooks, whether intentional or not, these songs manage to be angry and caustic and intense, but still catchy as hell, the lyrical vitriol reflected in the relentless punk rock energy, just a glorious collection on intense, emotional, swaggery, ramshackle, energetic, sweat soaked, pop flecked, PUNK, that has definitely remained as fresh, and as lyrically relevant as it was all the way back in 1978. Which speaks well of Crass, but not so well for the state of the world...
Included as bonus tracks are various live sessions and studio demos, some of which show another side of Crass, sounding almost like some sort of busking skiffle band, all shuffly and Billy Bragg-ish(!). The packaging is incredible, a gorgeous slipcover, which judging from the design is meant to join together with the other 5 reissues to form a single huge Crass logo, inside is a massive booklet with new liner notes from the band, all the lyrics, as well as photos and artwork, there's also a reproduction of the original insert, a fold out poster with the distinctive Crass artwork, a poster on one side, collages,and the lyrics as they were originally printed on the other.
These anarcho-punk legends are finally getting the deluxe reissue campaign they always deserved, but probably never really wanted anyway. Having spent the seventies and eighties kicking against the pricks, these DIY iconoclasts pretty much lived and breathed punk rock like few others since, making music, putting on gigs, setting up squats, coordinating political actions, starting a label, creating art, making films, advocating animal rights, environmentalism, feminism, direct action, anarchism, pacifism, criticizing various subcultures, encouraging dialogues, and encouraging participation and protest, and obviously, and perhaps most pertinent to this here review, making some of the most awesome punk records EVER.
These records sound impossibly and incredibly fresh, intense and dramatic and emotional, heavy and hooky, jagged and jittery, their ideals clearly on display, backed up by musical muscle, pop smarts, and some super original and innovative sounds and songs. The crazy thing, revisiting these records again, is how much they've influenced modern underground music, there are at least a handful of bands, who now with these records fresh in our ears, sound almost criminally beholden to Crass: Arctic Monkeys, The Fall, Louis XIV, Art Brut... the list goes on.
Legendary for a reason, all three of these records should be required listening for punks and metalheads and hell, anyone into underground sounds, and are totally worth revisiting, we had sort of forgotten how goddamn great all three of these records are, and even if you still own beat up original copies, there's enough extra stuff, music and artwork wise, that they're totally worth picking up again...
Penis Envy was record number three, released in 1981, and was a serious shift for the band, and easily their most polished and accomplished, but the changes were big, first, all the vocals are female this time around, and in keeping with this new more feminine vibe (or more likely it was all a single concept), the lyrical focus of Penis Envy, as is suggested by the title, is sexuality, specifically how it relates to women: feminism, marriage, sexual repression...
And the music, wow, the opening track sets the stage, a little flurry of synthy weirdness, the sound strangely proggy, it quickly launches into a super hooky minor key angular punk pop workout, the riffs woozy, the guitar sound crunchy, the drums powerful, the bass thick and low slung, and the vocals incredible, powerful and emotional, passionate and BAD ASS, spitting out some seriously intense lyrics, a wickedly sarcastic tale of feminine subjugation.
And so it goes, the whole record a fantastically and fully realized groove heavy punk rock blowout, that seems to sonically foreshadow the various post punk bands that would eventually cite Crass as an influence, lots of tension and release, horns, even harmoniums, plenty of drones, and intricate arrangements, bizarre vocal harmonies, super distorted buzz, some almost funkiness, some proto-electronica, that dub vibe in fell effect, choral voices, swooping backwards sounds, super strange, but really kick ass production, hard to believe this record is 30 years old, especially considering how many bands are making sounds just like this now, and probably don't realize, Crass were doing it decades ago, and doing it better.
One of the best stories about Penis Envy, is when the band somehow conned teenage girl's romance magazine to include Crass track on a giveaway flexi disc, credited to Creative Recording And Sound Services (yep, Crass), sonically on the surface, it was a sweetly innocuous pop song, but it was Crass after all so the subtext is much more damning, and needless to say, when the hoax was revealed there was a bit of an uproar. That track is included here, as is a collaged soundscape combining the original track with responses to the hoax, as well as an archival track and a rare 2003 remix.
The packaging is incredible, a gorgeous slipcover, which judging from the design is meant to join together with the other 5 reissues to form a single huge Crass logo, inside is a massive booklet with new liner notes from the band, all the lyrics, as well as photos and artwork, there's also a reproduction of the original insert, a fold out 6 panel foldout with that distinctive Crass artwork, the original blow up doll album cover, collages and graffiti and lyrics...
These anarcho-punk legends are finally getting the deluxe reissue campaign they always deserved, but probably never really wanted anyway. Having spent the seventies and eighties kicking against the pricks, these DIY iconoclasts pretty much lived and breathed punk rock like few others since, making music, putting on gigs, setting up squats, coordinating political actions, starting a label, creating art, making films, advocating animal rights, environmentalism, feminism, direct action, anarchism, pacifism, criticizing various subcultures, encouraging dialogues, and encouraging participation and protest, and obviously, and perhaps most pertinent to this here review, making some of the most awesome punk records EVER.
These records sound impossibly and incredibly fresh, intense and dramatic and emotional, heavy and hooky, jagged and jittery, their ideals clearly on display, backed up by musical muscle, pop smarts, and some super original and innovative sounds and songs. The crazy thing, revisiting these records again, is how much they've influenced modern underground music, there are at least a handful of bands, who now with these records fresh in our ears, sound almost criminally beholden to Crass: Arctic Monkeys, The Fall, Louis XIV, Art Brut... the list goes on.
Legendary for a reason, all three of these records should be required listening for punks and metalheads and hell, anyone into underground sounds, and are totally worth revisiting, we had sort of forgotten how goddamn great all three of these records are, and even if you still own beat up original copies, there's enough extra stuff, music and artwork wise, that they're totally worth picking up again...
Stations Of The Crass (another poke at the Catholic Church, just one of many) was record number two, and was released in 1979, and found the band's sound shifting pretty dramatically. Their lo-fi sound not so lo-fi at all, and it wasn't just the recording, the band sounded way more confident, the songs catchier and more complex, the vibe more new wavey in places, the root sound was the same, jagged sharp guitars, pounding frantic drumming, but the bass is way more of a presence, sometimes getting seriously woozy and new wavey, introducing some definite dub vibes throughout, like a leaner meaner Clash in places (although there's at least one fuck you shout out to the Clash), and the vox, even more intense this time around, anguished and super emotive, sometimes spoken in a super thick cockney accent, other times vitriolic yelp, and often breaking down into a super intense tortured howl. To these ears Stations was when Crass finally became a musical force to rival their already established political and punk rock force, the music powerful and more mature, heavy and hooky and more able to convey Crass' anger and disappointment and fury in the form of sound.
While the original Stations came accompanied by a collection of live tracks, those have been left off, and in their place, as bonus tracks, is a 1979 Peel Session.
The packaging is incredible, a gorgeous slipcover, which judging from the design is meant to join together with the other 5 reissues to form a single huge Crass logo, inside is a massive booklet with new liner notes from the band, all the lyrics, as well as photos and artwork, there's also a reproduction of the original insert, a fold out 6 panel foldout with the distinctive Crass artwork, collages and graffiti, and the lyrics as they were originally printed on the other.
We reviewed the first five reissues from legendary punk rock outfit Crass over the last year, and now here's the sixth and final in the series, and as we mentioned in the other reviews, we're so thrilled that these anarcho-punk legends are finally getting the deluxe reissue campaign they always deserved, but probably never really wanted anyway. In case you missed the reviews of those first five, here's what we had to say about Crass the band (before we get to Ten Notes On A Summer's Day):
Having spent the seventies and eighties kicking against the pricks, these DIY iconoclasts pretty much lived and breathed punk rock like few others since, making music, putting on gigs, setting up squats, coordinating political actions, starting a label, creating art, making films, advocating animal rights, environmentalism, feminism, direct action, anarchism, pacifism, criticizing various subcultures, encouraging dialogues, and encouraging participation and protest, and obviously, and perhaps most pertinent to this here review, making some of the most awesome punk records EVER.
And these records sound impossibly and incredibly fresh, intense and dramatic and emotional, heavy and hooky, jagged and jittery, their ideals clearly on display, backed up by musical muscle, pop smarts, and some super original and innovative sounds and songs. The crazy thing, revisiting these records again, is how much they've influenced modern underground music, there are at least a handful of bands, who now with these records fresh in our ears, sound almost criminally beholden to Crass: Arctic Monkeys, The Fall, Louis XIV, Art Brut... the list goes on.
Legendary for a reason, all of these records should be required listening for punks and metalheads and hell, anyone into underground sounds, and are totally worth revisiting, we had sort of forgotten how goddamn great all of these records are, and even if you still own beat up original copies, there's enough extra stuff, music and artwork wise, that they're totally worth picking up again.
Ten Notes On A Summer's Day was the final proper Crass record, originally released in 1985, and like on past records, displayed yet another dramatic stylistic shift, this time toward something much more European and avant garde, two tracks, one an instrumental version of the other. The music loping and rhythmic, atonal and a bit abstract, jazzy at times, proggy at others, definitely not punk, at least not in the traditional sense. Blurts of synth, wild squalls of free jazz drumming, spidery melodies, all manner of vocals, choral, choir like, at times the sound is super academic, at others, warped and woozily whatthefuck. The instrumental version ditches the drums in addition to the vocals, transforming the sound into something much more swirly and shimmery and atmospheric, still angular and atonal in places, but much more blissed out and hauntingly ambient, not nearly as prickly as the vocal version.
The reissue tacks on a handful of bonus tracks, remixes and unreleased jams, the sound tending toward the experimental, collaged and chaotic, one track sounds like weird warped eighties MTV pop, albeit more tweaked, while another sounds like Current 93 style apocalyptic folk, the vocals a dead ringer for David Tibet, while the last track is a lovely bit of haunting choral music, that near the end splinters into some twisted synthy angular pop weirdness. Wow.
Like the other reissues, the packaging is incredible, a gorgeous slipcover, which is meant to join together with the other 5 reissues to form a single huge Crass logo, inside is a massive booklet with new liner notes from the band, all the lyrics, as well as photos and artwork, there's also a reproduction of the original insert.
We reviewed the first four reissues from legendary punk rock outfit Crass over the last few lists, and now here's the 5th (of 6) in the series Anarcho-punk legends Crass are finally getting the deluxe reissue campaign they always deserved, but probably never really wanted anyway. Having spent the seventies and eighties kicking against the pricks, these DIY iconoclasts pretty much lived and breathed punk rock like few others since, making music, putting on gigs, setting up squats, coordinating political actions, starting a label, creating art, making films, advocating animal rights, environmentalism, feminism, direct action, anarchism, pacifism, criticizing various subcultures, encouraging dialogues, and encouraging participation and protest, and obviously, and perhaps most pertinent to this here review, making some of the most awesome punk records EVER.
These records sound impossibly and incredibly fresh, intense and dramatic and emotional, heavy and hooky, jagged and jittery, their ideals clearly on display, backed up by musical muscle, pop smarts, and some super original and innovative sounds and songs. The crazy thing, revisiting these records again, is how much they've influenced modern underground music, there are at least a handful of bands, who now with these records fresh in our ears, sound almost criminally beholden to Crass: Arctic Monkeys, The Fall, Louis XIV, Art Brut... the list goes on.
Legendary for a reason, all the Crass records should be required listening for punks and metalheads and hell, anyone into underground sounds, and are totally worth revisiting, we had sort of forgotten how goddamn great all three of these records are, and even if you still own beat up original copies, there's enough extra stuff, music and artwork wise, that they're totally worth picking up again...
Yes Sir, I Will was Crass' last 'official' album, and was originally presented as a single album long track, spread out over both sides (making it the longest punk rock song ever!), and unlike the overt poppiness of Christ The Album, Yes Sir is dense and tense and tangled, rife as always with samples and sonic snippets, even a haunting piano ballad, the music was furious and vitriolic, dueling male/female vocals, over crunchy angular riffing, all wound around frenetic drumming, the production raw and brittle and a little lo-fi, the entire record mostly improvised, Crass version of 'jazz', much of the lyrics culled from a poem by drummer/vocalist Penny Rimbaud, an attack on prime minister Margaret Thatcher and her handling of the Falklands War, it's a pretty intense record, sonically and lyrically, and very ambitious, especially for a 'punk' band, but by now Crass were far from the typical punk band. The extra tracks here, a bonus disc entitled "Why Don't You Fuck Off", is a 2002 'jazz remix' imagining of the whole record, which is about as 'jazz' as the record proper, a slightly noisier and more chaotic take on the original, although there is some saxophone
Like the other reissues, there's a massive booklet including liner notes and lyrics, as well as a fold out poster, all housed in a super swank slipcover, which fits together with all the other reissues, the various covers combining to form a single image.
This anarcho-punk classic, recently reissued on cd, now available again on vinyl!!
Anarcho-punk legends Crass are finally getting the deluxe reissue campaign they always deserved, but probably never really wanted anyway. Having spent the seventies and eighties kicking against the pricks, these DIY iconoclasts pretty much lived and breathed punk rock like few others since, making music, putting on gigs, setting up squats, coordinating political actions, starting a label, creating art, making films, advocating animal rights, environmentalism, feminism, direct action, anarchism, pacifism, criticizing various subcultures, encouraging dialogues, and encouraging participation and protest, and obviously, and perhaps most pertinent to this here review, making some of the most awesome punk records EVER.�
Their records sound impossibly and incredibly fresh, intense and dramatic and emotional, heavy and hooky, jagged and jittery, their ideals clearly on display, backed up by musical muscle, pop smarts, and some super original and innovative sounds and songs. The crazy thing, revisiting these records again, is how much they've influenced modern underground music, there are at least a handful of bands, who now with these records fresh in our ears, sound almost criminally beholden to Crass: Arctic Monkeys, The Fall, Louis XIV, Art Brut... the list goes on.�
Legendary for a reason, all the Crass records should be required listening for punks and metalheads and hell, anyone into underground sounds, and are totally worth revisiting, we had sort of forgotten how goddamn great all three of these records are, and even if you still own beat up original copies, there's enough extra stuff, music and artwork wise, that they're totally worth picking up again...
Yes Sir, I Will was Crass' last 'official' album, and was originally presented as a single album long track, spread out over both sides (making it the longest punk rock song ever!), and unlike the overt poppiness of Christ The Album, Yes Sir is dense and tense and tangled, rife as always with samples and sonic snippets, even a haunting piano ballad, the music was furious and vitriolic, dueling male/female vocals, over crunchy angular riffing, all wound around frenetic drumming, the production raw and brittle and a little lo-fi, the entire record mostly improvised, Crass version of 'jazz', much of the lyrics culled from a poem by drummer/vocalist Penny Rimbaud, an attack on prime minister Margaret Thatcher and her handling of the Falklands War, it's a pretty intense record, sonically and lyrically, and very ambitious, especially for a 'punk' band, but by now Crass were far from the typical punk band...
In the mid-90s, Ian Crause had fronted Disco Inferno, one of those difficult to pigeonhole entities that led Simon Reynolds to coin the term post-rock. Crause had also helped out on the fantastic Piano Magic album "Low Birth Weight." Those two elements would make you think that a solo outing should make for an interesting listen... unfortunately not. Instead of experimenting with fractured melodies or electronic treatments on guitars, Crause turns in two tracks of '80s college rock sounding much like The Church.
Ten years on and Craw (remember them?) are still at it. Combining some of the best parts of the Dazzling Killmen, Bastro and Jesus Lizard and coming up with a bass heavy, groove laden, crushing metal onslaught. Equal parts metalcore and post rock, Craw spread out expansive rhythmic structures, with the bass and drums tightly wound together while guitars roar above and around, riffs weaving in and out, slowly building into walls of sludge-thick guitars. Craw's weak point has always been the vocals. So much so that a lot of people I know would probably cite Craw as one of their all time favorite bands, if it wasn't for those damn vocals. Well, the vocals are still a bit of a problem, but they are so much better than before. Not sure if the singer is singing better, or the vocals are more buried in the mix (more like both methinks) but whatever it is, makes this new Craw record go down way easier and means that this is WAY RECOMMENDED!
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
The new one from this cult heavy/emo/mathrock band.
Colley is a self-taught sound artist from Sacramento, where he has slowly been building an extensive (if underappreciated) catalogue of dissonant rumbles and threatening drones out of lo-fi electronics (piezo microphones, malfunctioning speaker cones, buzzing wires). I admit a skepticism about Colley and the industrial bent of his earliest work. Yet, he, more than a lot of California noise artists, has stepped beyond the 'noise for noise' purism for an expressive and at times gentle broad band of electro-acoustic drones that have demonstrated the potential to parallel the awe-inspiring absolute concrete work of Francisco Lopez. "Everybody Gets What They Deserve" is Colley's fifth album which begins with demonstrations of the aforementioned lo-fi electronics and ends with an assortment of Hafler Trio-esque media collage cut ups.
Joe Colley (aka Crawl Unit) specialises in the internal feedback loop, showing masterful restraint, in keeping this simple sound generation technique from exploding in Merzbow's purposeful ugliness. Where fellow quiet feedback artist Arcane Device builds complex banks of electronic gear to transform and modulate these tones within controlled parameters, Crawl Unit plays fast and
"Trans History - Works 95-99" is a collection of singles and compilation tracks drawn from Crawl Unit's electroacoustic / noise 'n' drone work. A specialist in internal feedback systems, Crawl Unit sets up lo-tech / post-industrial looping patterns of granular textures and white hot electrical buzz. As all of this work had been commissioned as rather short pieces (a seven inch or
To say that Homunculus Equinox is a more accessible record than Crawling Chaos' preceding album The Gas Chair is certainly true, but also a bit misleading since this album is as complex and weird as the best work of Amon Duul II, Brainticket, or Pere Ubu. The Gas Chair is just that odd of an album! Homunculus Equinox falls considerably far from the grim, Mancunian post-punk sound of Factory Records who released the aforementioned Gas Chair album. Even so, everything from Homunculus Equinos came from the same hours and hours of recordings that the band made during the Gas Chair sessions at their own studio back in 1981. This second album was self-released on their own Foetus Productions as a cassette. It's not really a surprise that Factory didn't release it, as Factory's in-house producer Martin Hannett was disgusted that Tony Wilson might consider releasing something as lo-fi as Homunculus Equinox. The remastering job on this CD renders the album with as much clarity as any given reissue from, say, 1967, but admittedly lacks the pristine surface that Hannett provided to Joy Division.
Homunculus Equinox is wilfully eccentric album, fully aware of its predecessors. Crawling Chaos produced a weird hybrid of indulgant Krautrock psychedelia, bleepity bloopy electronically driven space rock, and post-Morricone melodies that get so epic and bittersweet that it wouldn't be surprising if Quentin Tarantino appropriates Crawling Chaos for one of his upcoming soundtracks. Thoroughly surprising and vigorously challenging.
Typically dismissed by Brit-pop collectors as "the worst album to be produced by Factory Records," The Gas Chair is anything but. On the contrary, Crawling Chaos' bizarre fragmentation of art-rock, lysergic psychedelia, and primitive electronics should rank as one of the great, lost art-punk records to be re-discovered. Were it not for the fact that Tony Wilson did sign Crawling Chaos to Factory, The Gas Chair would have surely disappeared entirely never to have been heard again. But because LTM has dedicated their energies to reissuing the remainder of the Factory catalogue from the early '80s, The Gas Chair (as well as Crawling Chaos' self-released 2nd album Homunculus Equinox) have thankfully returned to print, and now here we are singing their praises.
Those Brit-pop afficionados are right in saying that there is very little in Crawling Chaos that has anything to do with the Martin Hannett's production or Joy Division's dour atmospheres or anything that remotely sounds like what a Factory band should sound like. Rather than punk antagonism or death disco grooves, the Crawling Chaos harken back to a broken psychedelia which rewires the already complex sounds of Can, Faust, Joe Meek, Comus, and Cro-Magnon. I'm not even sure that they would have found much solace in contemporaries such as Nurse With Wound, The Residents, This Heat, and The Lemon Kittens. As a result, Crawling Chaos don't really sound like much of anything else; but there is an intellect behind the band which keeps The Gas Chair from merely being weird for the sake of being weird. Elliptical post-punk effect dour brooding; oblique electronics meld with serpentine Arabic melodies; thoroughly disturbing pagan folk songs splattered with psychedelic noise, mirroring Comus and Cro-Magnon; Brian Eno-esque pop idiosyncracies disfigured and dislocated; mechanoid synth-punk workouts repleat with vocoder heavy vocals. There's always the possibility that The Gas Chair is a situationist joke, a grand piece of irony that was smarter than most everything around it. Perhaps the aesthetic wandering appealed to Tony Wilson's situationist desires; and that may be the only reason why he signed Crawling Chaos to Factory.
Regardless, The Gas Chair is infinitely more bizarre than the Homosexuals and executed with much greater panache than Metal Urbain, making it one of the best art-punk reissues to come out in a very, very long time.
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THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
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Not sure why we never reviewed this back in the day, Cream Abdul Babar were one of our favorite weirdo noise rock / sort of metal combos, with what is arguably the worst / best band name EVER. On this all-covers ep they tackle "Burning Inside" by Ministry, "Rid Of Me" by PJ Harvey, "Born Annoying" by Helmet, "Gladiator" by the Jesus Lizard and "Space" by Mira. There's also a hidden bonus track, "Material Girl" by Madonna! And as you might imagin, Cream Abdul Babar's versions KILL!!!
One of the best bands with one of the worst band names. But if we can love Japancakes and Flaming Lips and the Butthole Surfers then by God we can love Cream Abdul Babar. CAB are a southern fried noise rock outfit who channel all that was good about Amrep, Homestead, the aforementioned Buttholes, and twenty years of indie/post/dirge/noise rock chaos. This 2cd collects their first LP on disc one, and on disc 2, all of their splits and comp tracks as well as a wicked live number. CAB are notorious for the addition of trombone to their otherwise traditional guitar/bass/drum/vocal lineup. The trombone adds even more low end and gives the proceedings a woozy sort of seasick feel. This is awesome, ass kicking aggro noise rock in the tradition of Butthole Surfers, Halo Of Flies, the Cows, Jesus Lizard with plenty of dynamics and melody to keep things interesting. Highly recommended.
This monstrous 7 piece experi-metal ensemble has been around for years now. Alternately referred to as either 'that metal band with the trombone player' or 'that band with the worst name ever.' Let's address both of those issues right off the bat. They do
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Ultra brutal, extremely technical metal/hardcore. Four new songs amidst a collage of noise. All with an extremely political anti-technology bent.
Brutal noise collage from SF (relocated from Pittsburgh, PA) grind activists Creation Is Crucifixion. Three super long tracks of dynamic harsh electronics and rumbling drones. Comparisons to Bastard Noise inevitable, CIC's aural palette is similarly aligned with that of Monde Bruits or Russell Haswell's.
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Reissue (with improved artwork, and a jewel case so Allan can finally buy a copy) of this amazing slab of pummelling grind. Super political, and anti-technology, 1000 mile-an-hour, hyper complex and totally intense grindcore.
Awesome co-operative release between southwestern political grindsters Creation is Crucifixion, Critical Art Foundation and the Carbon Defnese League. Beautiful box with a cd/cd-rom and a huge perfect bound book. The book examines the 'reverse engineering of
Split 3" cd-r of two hardcore technical grind outfits in extreme power electronics mode. Uum features Travis Ryan of San Diego's Cattle Decapitation. Three short tracks, one small price...
Not sure how it worked for other folks, but discovering On-U sound back in the eighties was definitely a gateway into classic dub, the On-U stable of bands like African Headcharge, Dub Syndicate, New Age Steppers, those Pay It All Back comps, the On-U sound was an electronic dub rooted in punk rock, that while true to the roots of reggae and dub, also pushed the sound in stranger, more cosmic and psychedelic directions. For us the ultimate dub music came courtesy of another non-traditonal electro-dub outfit, the Bush Chemists, who pushed dub to it's very breaking point, slathering sounds in ridiculous amounts of delay, sending beats careening into the ether, rhythms constantly collapsing and crumbling, before reconstituting only to do it all over again, while all around, the vocals and other instrumentation got the same treatment, for a non pot smoker, it was about as close to stone-y musical bliss as one could get.
But a close second in terms of tripped out psychedelic dub, was no doubt this one, Creation Rebel's Starship Africa, from way back in 1980, described by the label as some of the "greatest sci-fi dub soundtracks never put to film", which is really not that far off. We never really think about dub being space-y or psychedelic, but Starship Africa most definitely is, it's core sound is pure dub, upstroke guitars, wheezing melodica, woozy groovy basslines, swirling synths, and of course hypnotic rhythmic grooves, but in the hands of Creation Rebel, these sounds seem to blur into something else entirely, melodies shift, sounds blossom and expand outward like some exploding star, the drums occasionally splinter into fractured rhythmic shards, weird processed alien vocals hover in fields of reverb, the basslines thick and low slung, also seems to ooze and warble, anchoring all the other sounds, but in their own way stretching out to the heavens as well, and the tape speed constantly warbles, even slipping into an old school DJ style rewind, only to slip right back into another spaced out psychedelic groove.
Just check out the sound samples. Total druggy, dreamy, drift off headphone bliss.
The resurrection of dub reggae music and its influence on post-punk in the late seventies and early eighties didn't really take off in America as it did in Britain. It seems that the aura of Thatcherite austerity policies that were taking their toll on the impoverished lower classes and urban council-flat populace as well as the increasing population of young Jamaicans whose parents emigrated en masse to England after World War II due to a British labor shortage, caused a reinvigoration of the pounding rhythms, industrial echoes and rolling bass of dub as a music defined by struggle. You can still hear this sonic thread as it has evolved over the years through drum and bass, grime and dubstep. But Adrian Sherwood's On-U label was the first on the beat in the late seventies when he began to produce the first Creation Rebel albums which presented a heavy urban take on classic dub and reggae sounds and re-tweeked it with the stoned out spaciness of Tangerine Dream and the Grateful Dead. Collaborating with another Sherwood produced-group, New Age Steppers, a rotating collective of punk and reggae musicians that at one time included Ari Up from The Slits, Keith Levine from P.I.L (both featured here) and Mark Stewart (The Pop Group) amongst its members, Threat of Creation was released in 1981. Channeling the raw energy and urgent spirit of roots, punk and reggae, into a cerebral concoction of mind-expanding rhythms, pensive social dissatisfaction and scorching sonic decay. This is the first vinyl reissue since its release and it's as sonically hard-hitting and socially relevant as ever.
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The Creatures have been a project since the early 80's as the rhythmic outlet for Siouxsie Sioux and the Banshees' drummer Budgie, but since the dissolution of the Banshees, Siousxie and Budgie have had much more time to concentrate on the Creatures project. The previous single "Eraser Cut" was an awesome outing that presented the Creatures with such potential as to possibly jumpstart the entire Goth subculture into finally making a good record again.
Unfortunately, Anima Animus does not live up to such potential. But that doesn't mean this is a bad album. Siouxsie's dark theatrics as the ice queen of the pop world are just as seductive and chilling as from Juju, while Budgie's rhythm section packs a punch of driving beats and eclectic Arabic flares. Glamour photos courtesy of Pierre & Gilles!
A great time for Siouxie and Budgie fans. Shortly after their stellar reunion tour come two incredible releases and a collection, indeed a beastiary of old ep's, lp's and singles from the early 80's. "Sad Cunt" is one kick-ass track (not on the 10") rolling-out Siouxie's pseudo tribal post-punk, without being retro; an amazing pairing with "Eraser Cut", four songs of Budgie's ecstatic, exotic percussion matched by Siouxie's theatrical chill. A Beastiary of includes the Wild Things ep, "Feast", and the "Miss the Girl" and "Right Now/Weathercade" singles. We are not only excited by these releases; we are grateful.
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A great time for Siouxie and Budgie fans. Shortly after their stellar reunion tour come two incredible releases and a collection, indeed a beastiary of old ep's, lp's and singles from the early 80's. "Sad Cunt" is one kick-ass track (not on the 10") rolling-out Siouxie's pseudo tribal post-punk, without being retro; an amazing pairing with "Eraser Cut", four songs of Budgie's ecstatic, exotic percussion matched by Siouxie's theatrical chill. A Beastiary of includes the Wild Things ep, "Feast", and the "Miss the Girl" and "Right Now/Weathercade" singles. We are not only excited by these releases; we are grateful.
Having ventured to Japan for the "Seven Year Itch" reunion tour for the Banshees in 2002, Siouxsie Sioux and Budgie (who have also recorded a handful of albums together as The Creatures) had managed to arrange a recording session with Japanese Taiko drummer Leonard Eto. Budgie, already an accomplished percussionist known for his exotic flourishes and militant post-punk stomps, was thoroughly enamoured of Eto, and worked much of that extended session with multiple layers of marimba, gongs, hand drums, and big timpani crashes. But as with the Banshees, the Creatures focus upon Siouxsie's voice, which is as lovely, icy, and sensual as ever. Theirs is a simple formula that has worked well before with minimal accompaniment to Budgie's percussive mantras and Siouxsie's inimitable voice; and Hai doesn't veer off course at all, and is as good as anything that The Creatures have produced in the past.
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
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A great time for Siouxie and Budgie fans. Shortly after their stellar reunion tour come two incredible releases and a collection, indeed a beastiary of old ep's, lp's and singles from the early 80's. "Sad Cunt" is one kick-ass track (not on the 10") rolling-out Siouxie's pseudo tribal post-punk, without being retro; an amazing pairing with "Eraser Cut", four songs of Budgie's ecstatic, exotic percussion matched by Siouxie's theatrical chill. A Beastiary of includes the Wild Things ep, "Feast", and the "Miss the Girl" and "Right Now/Weathercade" singles. We are not only excited by these releases; we are grateful.
What is it about California that spawns such fury and hatred and musical malevolence? Must be the weather! Or its proximity to HELL! There's been a remarkable number of cold and frosty, cult black metal bands coming from the Golden state in the last few years, all of them worthy of inclusion in black metal's elite: SF's legendary Weakling, Ludicra, Leviathan, Xasthur, Draugar (coming soon on tUMULt) and now CREBAIN. Another one man project, Crebain is Ancalagon The Black, who handles "Majestic Hellcommand Of Kataklysmik Deathstrings, Nightmarish Throatshredding and Percussive Programming." This is classic black metal, hateful and misanthropic, buzzy and hypnotic, ala Burzum, Darkthrone, Judas Iscariot, and the like. Named for Sauron's huge black birds in Lord Of The Rings (what would black metal bands do for names without Tolkien??), Crebain exudes a similar malevolence on Night Of Stormcrow, replete with howling, guttural, hyper-distorted wails of anguish, hellish riffs, buzzing insect-swarm guitars and some masterful programming that thankfully turns the drum machine into a hellish instrument of evil. Less atmospheric than Xasthur, and less fucked up than Leviathan, but equally true and black, Crebain follows his own dark path straight to the pits of hell. And as Ancalagon states in the liner notes: "To all those who have dared to cross me, your time is coming. Eventually, I will kill you all." This cd-r is strictly limited to 66 copies and numbered in BLOOD!
MPEG Download: "Night Of The Stormcrow" [/audio/crebainnight.mp3]
MPEG Stream: "Night Of The Stormcrow" [/audio/crebainnight.m3u]
We had a handful of Crebain's ultra limited demo Night Of The Stormcrow a few years back, and they sold out in no time at all. You've now got yourself another chance to pick it up, on VINYL no less, with this here super limited picture disc version of these very first recordings from SF black metal horde Crebain. Nice thick picture disc vinyl with the logo on one side and an amazing photo of Crebain mastermind Ancalagon The Black on the other, weilding the most metal of weaponry, the sledge hammer! So fucking cool. Here's what we had to say about Night Of The Stormcrow first time around:
What is it about California that spawns such fury and hatred and musical malevolence? Must be the weather! Or its proximity to HELL! There's been a remarkable number of cold and frosty, cult black metal bands coming from the Golden state in the last few years, all of them worthy of inclusion in black metal's elite: SF's legendary Weakling, Ludicra, Leviathan, Xasthur, Draugar, and now CREBAIN. Another one man project, Crebain is Ancalagon The Black, who handles "Majestic Hellcommand Of Kataklysmik Deathstrings, Nightmarish Throatshredding and Percussive Programming." This is classic black metal, hateful and misanthropic, buzzy and hypnotic, ala Burzum, Darkthrone, Judas Iscariot, and the like. Named for Sauron's huge black birds in Lord Of The Rings (what would black metal bands do for names without Tolkien??), Crebain exudes a similar malevolence on Night Of The Stormcrow, replete with howling, guttural, hyper-distorted wails of anguish, hellish riffs, buzzing insect-swarm guitars and some masterful programming that thankfully turns the drum machine into a hellish instrument of evil. Less atmospheric than Xasthur, and less fucked up than Leviathan, but equally true and black, Crebain follows his own dark path straight to the pits of hell. And as Ancalagon states in the liner notes: "To all those who have dared to cross me, your time is coming. Eventually, I will kill you all."
LIMITED TO 500 COPIES, WE GOT 60 AND WILL NEVER BE ABLE TO GET MORE, SO IF YOU WANT ONE ACT FAST. ONE PER CUSTOMER!!!
The black cloud over sunny California grows and grows, with each addition to its dark army and each new missive from one of its elite! Black metal has found a strong foothold in this unlikely location. Xasthur, Leviathan, Draugar, Crebain and a small dark likeminded legion lurk in the shadows, far away from the fun and the sun, unleashing some of the most raw and uncompromisng black metal we've ever heard.
AQ pal Wrest and his genius one man avant black metal outfit Leviathan return with what may quite possibly be his best, most intensely weird material to date. We just can't get enough of his dark and violent, totally skewed take on grim frosty black metal. And for this release he teams up with relative newcomer Ancalagon The Black and his outfit Crebain. Not quite as weird as Leviathan, Crebain channels his darkness through a more thrashing Darkthrone/Mutiilation style.
On this split, Wrest takes his ultra distorted inhuman vocals, pummelling hyperspeed blasts, and violent riffery to a whole 'nother dimension, and moves even further away from his contemporaries, both in terms of sound and concept. There are certain sonic similarities for sure, but Leviathan has such a personal and undiluted take on the black sounds that so obviously flow through is veins. For every blast beat and every buzzing riff, there's some stuttery, fucked up breakdown, or extended blissed out ambient soundscape, or rhythmic mathrock workout, or strummy clean guitar jangle, or weird production with all sorts of glitches and strange sounds. The ambient parts here are definitely some of the most beautifully creepy we've ever heard, from a metal band or otherwise. And the metal, well, by now you should know few can touch Leviathan when it comes to black metal brilliance. And the thing is, Wrest doesn't think any of this is weird. He just makes the sounds he hears in his head, and they sound right to him. And they are right, but in such a beautifully weird way. Can't wait for the upcoming full length Tentacles Of Whorror. His half of the split ends with a straight ahead and super necro cover of cult early '90s San Francisco metallers Von's "Blood Angel." Nice.
The other half of this is Crebain's first offical cd release, having previously only released a super limited cd-r demo last year, and it's just as good as that demo led us to hope. This is as raw and buzzing and blazing as it gets. Where Wrest is a master of arranging, creating moods and ambience, Ancalagon is a master of the riff. An unbelievably good guitarist, these riffs are lightning fast and swarm into your ears like a plague of locusts. Thrashing and chaotic, Crebain is a furious no-nonsense metallic onslaught. Programmed drums allow the rhythms to keep up with the madness inducing riffery. Occasionally things slow down to midtempo, and then it becomes quite obvious that Crebain is actually writing catchy songs, not just an insane series of parts. Melodies and almost-groovy riffs propel loping hypnotic dirges towards their eventual obliteration via hyperspeed blasts and that blurry Crebain riffery. Fucking great.
This split is another nail in the coffin containing the corpses of the Nordic metal elite, as black metal's Calfiornia contigent threatens to thaw their frosty corpses with the soul shearing rays of its black sun! Aieeee! Limited to only 666 copies!
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We've carried some strange sounds in our shop. We've listed them in other reviews, but it definitely bears repeating, ice melting, drag racing, life support machines, bats, lots of frogs, insects in stored foodstuffs, EVP voices from beyond the grave, chanting cults, arcade ambience, applause, silence, purring kittens, shortwave broadcasts, the sounds of Symphony intermissions, deer in heat, singing power lines, guitars dragged behind trucks, the aurora borealis, blank tapes, monkeys, crackling fires, the ocean, elephants playing gamelans, vibrating docks and bridges, hollerin' and so much more. The one thing we've yet to carry is the sounds of a gun being fired. Until now.
But this isn't just some random sniper fire, or some yahoos firing their shotguns out in the woods. No these gunshots have a purpose. And that purpose is art. The shooter is a man called Walt Creel, who uses a rifle to perforate big pieces of sheet metal, and in doing so creates huge images from the bullet holes. Cool huh? The works are part of a concept called Deweaponizing The Gun, wherein the gun's destructive power is transformed into the power to create. In conjunction with the visual works, Creel decided to deweaponize the gun in another way, by capturing the sound, one that usually invokes panic and terror and recontextualizing it into something while maybe not musical, something distinctively sonic, and textural, percussive and strange.
And that it is. A one sided 12", featuring recordings of Creel firing his gun into metal, an auditory glimpse into the process of creating his art. Sonically, it's reminiscent of pop guns, or firecrackers, or a screen door slamming, not the huge roar and bang you hear in movies or on TV, instead, the sound is actually slight, tinny, high end, the shots fired create a strange spare soundscape of not quite rhythms, the recording hissy and lo-fi, adding texture and grit, not the easiest listening, but still pretty fascinating, in both concept and execution. Found sound and field recording enthusiasts will definitely dig.
LIMITED TO ONLY 100 COPIES! Beautiful one sided black and white sleeves, each one hand numbered and signed by the artist, and each with a small cardstock antlered insert.
More old zines from the vaults! This is from a very limited quantity of new old stock of this fantastic late '70s / early '80s San Francisco punk zine. Creep sprung up from the void created when Search & Destroy ceased publication, with a fresh local bent and coverage of the Next Wave.
This issue from 1979 features a cover story of Jello Biafra for Mayor, an interview with (then just a radio show) Maximum RocknRoll, as well as a super profile of the Vancouver punk scene (Pointed Sticks, DOA). Also, Craig Lee of the Bags, a Paris scene report and a perplexing (i.e., trolling) interview with local contrarian Johnny Genocide of the band No Alternative. The best piece might be a first-person account of the seduction of punk from a self-identified sadomasochist lesbian, who found aesthetic and emotional community in the chaos of the infamous Valencia St. venue, the Deaf Club.
What makes Creep stand out - aside from the plethora of mind-bending new wave graphics and ads - is its earnest and intelligent commentary on punk as a movement and musings on why it wasn't going to go away any time soon. The political and social critiques of youth culture are surprisingly still interesting, even in a San Francisco that barely resembles itself of 30+ years ago.
Recommended if only just for the vintage aQuarius recOrds ads, but you should know by now that you probably want to read this. And obviously, very very limited quantities available!
More old zines from the vaults! This is from a very limited quantity of new old stock of this fantastic late '70s / early '80s San Francisco punk zine. Creep sprung up from the void created when Search & Destroy ceased publication, with a fresh local bent and coverage of the Next Wave.
A super 1980 issue featuring legends DKs, Angry Samoans and Zeros, as well as a great document of the Alter Boys and their (then) new performance space, Club Foot. Also fascinating is an article on demystifying the record production process, a Germany scene report and interview with the legendary Nervous Gender. And the polemic from the Art Police - destroyers of boring art - isn't half bad either.
What makes Creep stand out - aside from the plethora of mind-bending new wave graphics and ads - is its earnest and intelligent commentary on punk as a movement and musings on why it wasn't going to go away any time soon. The political and social critiques of youth culture are surprisingly still interesting, even in a San Francisco that barely resembles itself of 30+ years ago.
Recommended if only just for the vintage aQuarius recOrds ads, but you should know by now that you probably want to read this. And obviously, very very limited quantities available!
More old zines from the vaults! This is from a very limited quantity of new old stock of this fantastic late '70s / early '80s San Francisco punk zine. Creep sprung up from the void created when Search & Destroy ceased publication, with a fresh local bent and coverage of the Next Wave.
Another stellar 1980 issue featuring a wider assortment of artists - Vktmz, Geza X, Social Unrest, Pink Section, Alex Chilton and the Flamin' Groovies. Also, articles on the Reno punk scene, Brian Eno's use of the tape medium, the looming commercialism of punk, and a trenchant piece about shock value art inspired by Noh Mercy's inflammatory "Caucasian Guilt." Not to be missed!
What makes Creep stand out - aside from the plethora of mind-bending new wave graphics and ads - is its earnest and intelligent commentary on punk as a movement and musings on why it wasn't going to go away any time soon. The political and social critiques of youth culture are surprisingly still interesting, even in a San Francisco that barely resembles itself of 30+ years ago.
Recommended if only just for the vintage aQuarius recOrds ads, but you should know by now that you probably want to read this. And obviously, very very limited quantities available!
More old zines from the vaults! This is from a very limited quantity of new old stock of this fantastic late '70s / early '80s San Francisco punk zine. Creep sprung up from the void created when Search & Destroy ceased publication, with a fresh local bent and coverage of the Next Wave.
Final 1981 issue of this great, long lost SF punk zine: "If you love God, burn a church." Articles on Crass, Flipper, Jamaican reggae, local promoter Paul Rat, Bryan Ferry, Roky Erickson and the usual local news and controversies of the day. Also notable - an interview with Olga de Volga of the Lewd/VS and her not-so-ironic use of leather/BDSM imagery, appropriately dubbed "Bondage Rock."
What makes Creep stand out - aside from the plethora of mind-bending new wave graphics and ads - is its earnest and intelligent commentary on punk as a movement and musings on why it wasn't going to go away any time soon. The political and social critiques of youth culture are surprisingly still interesting, even in a San Francisco that barely resembles itself of 30+ years ago.
Recommended if only just for the vintage aQuarius recOrds ads, but you should know by now that you probably want to read this. And obviously, very very limited quantities available!
