Latest Article|September 3, 2020|Free::
Making Grown Men Cry Since 1992
Groovy with an unpretentious vibe—that literally speaks to the power of cool and the role of music in maintaining the sublime, subtle and chillax nature of a universe otherwise deemed to be in the midst of a chaos dictated to ordinary folks by the powers that be—this late February release seems to point the way to summer, allowing nature to dictate divine direction as it flows from mood to mood. The creation of a groovy environment is not enough, it’s just part of the gone-to-Saturn goal for the psychonauts in charge of this recording. They get seriously glitchy with time and temperament on tracks 2 and 4 (”LETSJUSB FIRED UP” and “LETSJUSB IN LOVE”) and spend the in between time constructing languid melodies from the the ghosts of OG synth sounds and lush R&B samples. Very now.
Would the first albums of Bob Dylan, Tom Waits, Joni Mitchell or even Leonard Cohen—just based on the way that he dressed—be considered punk rock if the term were available in the hipster or countercultural patois of the time? Or is American folk music so pervasive and multi-tentacled, awash in so many waves coming in from every direction that we’d have to toss punk rockers (all of them) onto the same boat floating folk artists around? Judy Collins and Exene Cervenka; the Grateful Dead and Mojo Nixon? I’d have to say yes to any propositions related to those lines of inquiry. Then I’d direct listeners to check out this album, a bountiful and beatific example of where those traces I spoke so longingly about interface and interlace. Favorite tracks: “worm,” “heroes” and “an escape.”
Here’s a new compilation by a cray and occluded label from here in the Burkes. The record label is Blues Funeral Recordings; they’ve just risen from one of the more action-packed circles of hell to offer citizens a curated collection of some the heaviest new Styx-borne tuneage ever heard around this river, the Rio Grande, or along the banks of the those other Stygian waters of lore, all dark and deep. A lot of these tracks exist on other recordings; this is a helluva mixtpape if you wanna look at it that way—as you get closer and closer to Satan on every cut, from opener, “She was a Witch,” by Italy’s 1782 to Brazil’s Dumblegore getting it on “My Zombie Girlfriend” and through the epic “Dark Sun” by icy Norwegian soul-crunchers Saint Karloff.