Cavity "Somewhere Between the Train Station... and the Dumping Grounds"

Twenty year old me bought this album when it came out in 1997 and it's safe to say it blindsided me like the rusty grill of a garbage truck. And that's kind of how this record sounded... like rust. Grimy, filthy rust covered guitar strings, drums and even throats belting out a melding of hardcore and stoner rock that sounded just a little different from all the other "sludge-core" or "doom-metal" or what have you that I'd been listening to around that time.

For some reason about five years ago I went through one of those purgings of my cd collection that people do from time to time and I got rid of a lot of stuff. Probably about 150 cds. I was streamlining. I was growing up. I was going through a mid-life crisis. Whatever happened I ended up with about a third of my cd collection intact. Over the ensuing years I've honestly not missed hardly any of them... but for some reason earlier this year I started thinking about Cavity. I mean, this was the band that inspired me to pay great homage (read: totally rip them off) by writing many guitar riffs in the vein of what I'd heard on "Somewhere.." for the band I was in during the late '90's-2000. They had floored me, inspired me and rocked my effing socks off. And now I missed them.

Well, living in Dayton, Ohio I of course had no options to buy the cd in person unless I drove about an hour to Columbus or Cincinnati... so I did just that. I went to a couple of record stores in Cincinnati with the singular purpose of finding this disc (or vinyl--I didn't care which)... all to no avail. So I hopped on the internet (during worktime of course) and ordered me a brand spanking new copy for around $15 and waited for it to arrive... wondering if it could possibly be anywhere near the sonic greatness I fondly remembered it as.

Now, let me just preface this by saying that although back when I first heard Cavity I was also really into slower softer music like Low and Dirty Three and Edith Frost... nowadays I'm way more so. I find myself listening much more to bands and aritists like Sun Kill Moon, Clem Snide, and Damien Jurado who most would call "sad bastard" or "sleepy-time" music (they of course are right... but that doesn't make me like them one teardroplet of artsy fartsiness less) than to Slayer or Sepultura (both of whom I also love dearly). That said, I opened up my new copy of "Somewhere..." and put it in the player.

Within seconds my head was banging and I was singing along like I was twenty again. This thing totally destroys... it's like if you locked early '80's Black Flag in a room with nothing but their instruments and the first four Black Sabbath albums (and of course some rations... I mean c'mon, we're not gonna be totally inhumane to the Flaggers are we?) for a year. This is what that would sound like. It's sludgy and heavy at times but mostly it's grindy blood boiling hardcore that makes you want to destroy something. Not in a malicious way though... more like when you watch one of those time elapsed videos of something in nature rotting away... it just feels natural. And so does this disc. Eleven tracks that singe and decay right there in your cd tray like some sort of burning robot made out of junk cars with frayed wires protruding from every crevice. Like I said earlier it's the sound of rust and filth the entire length of the disc.
And as if that's not enough there's a hidden track done in a way unlike I've ever seen (or at least yet discovered) again where you pop in the disc and rewind track one to reveal an entire live show before the track starts! How sweet is that?!?

Anyhoo... check 'em out. Cavity from Florida. Sadly they disbanded years ago (after putting out 4 or 5 albums total) and their sound changed a bit along the way ("Supercollider" ,their next release and probably my favorite of their discography, is similar to "Somewhere..." though cleaner and musically more mature and "On The Lam" was their last and smoothest sounding album although it still delves into the feedbacky rawness of their previous releases on occasion). After thirteen years this thing still holds up to be an amazing record and one that I definitely won't make the mistake of selling a second time despite any financial or space issues. If you have any interest in stoner metal and punk rock give this thing a listen.

Requiem for a Dream

Darren Aronofsky has been in the entertainment news quite a bit lately. He and his longtime something-or-other, Rachel Weisz, are separating (I'm in!); he has been confirmed as the director of the stand-alone sequel to X-Men Origins: Wolverine, called The Wolverine, which will reportedly be based on the classic mini-series by Chris Claremont and Frank Miller (probably my next post for N=D); and his latest film, Black Swan, is gaining accolades, making the festival rounds and opening sporadically across the world. It's being labeled as a horror movie, but I'm pretty sure it isn't. It seems more like a dark drama/psychological thriller. However, if Natalie Portman actually does transform into a gigantic Were-Swan, and goes on a gore-filled rampage, I'll fucking pay twice the amount to see that damn movie.

So all this has made me realize that even though I frequently list Requiem for a Dream as my No. 2 Favorite Film of All Time, I have only seen it once, back in the year 2001. It is a film that haunted me, and moved me, and made me feel terrible. It's a film with such power and rawness that I immediately ranked it as a favorite and decided to never watch it again. I couldn't bear to watch it again.

So, here we are. I'mma do this. I'm gonna go re-watch Requiem for a Dream for the first time in almost 10 years. Then I'm gonna come back to this draft document and review it to see how I feel. Here's the deal. I may not come back.

If I don't come back, it's because the movie left me as devastated as I was the first time watching it, and you'll know that it remains in the No. 2 spot of my Favorite Films of All Time. Also, because of that, I will have probably killed myself due to the depressed state the movie has left me in. I am leaving a separate set of instructions for my friends to post this for me after my death. If I do come back to write out my feelings about the movie 10 years later, then something must have changed. So. Let's do this and see what happens.

I'll be back. Maybe?

Ugh.

Alrighty... So. Yeah. This is what my friend Jason refers to as “Thundercats Syndrome”. This is indeed where nostalgia has been distorted. Or something. I'm trying hard to be clever. It never works. It also looks as if I'll be looking for a new No. 2 Favorite Film of All Time, 'cause Requiem for a Dream has dropped out of the top 10. Move on up, Evil Dead II! Juice by Bruce! Juice by Bruce!

While still a gorgeously made film, the emotional impact I remember having from my first go-round was completely supplanted by being distracted by all the “clever” cinematic editing and cinematography. The patented Aronofsky Camera-in-face-while-walking bit. The repetitive montages, shaky-cam, flickering lights, monochromatic color schemes, fast-speed/slow-downs, etc. etc. Basically every little editing trick that has been commandeered by the Saw movies.

Which is fitting, since throughout this viewing, I stopped watching this movie as gritty drama, and started watching it as a horror film. So maybe Black Swan is a horror movie? It seems as if Aronofsky has already had some warm-up playing in that genre. It's hard to label Requiem as anything else, especially now. Horrific, terrible things happen, and – even though it's a hallucination – there are monsters in the movie. And a dismemberment (spoiler). But of course the biggest monsters are the four main characters themselves. And Tappy Tibbons.

That said, it's still a fantastic movie with great performances by Ellen Burstyn, Jared Leto, Jennifer Connelly and Marlon Wayans. They all achieve everything that is asked of them by the script and direction and each one knocks it out of the park, Wayans in particular, is still a spectacular suprise in this movie, especially in light of his work before and since this was made. However, whatever goodwill he built-up by being amazing in this movie was pissed away the second he thought Little Man or White Chicks was a good idea.

In the end, Aronofsky's cleverness got the better of himself and detracted from his statement by trying to dazzle the audience with his innovative cinematography. Instead of worrying about getting the fish-eyed angle right, he should have focused more on the characters, the situations, the drama. Instead, we get a pre-Saw Saw movie about drugs and addiction, while the characters become unlikeable caricatures.

Jandek: Six and Six

I didn't get into Jandek until around 2002.  I heard the song "Feathered Drums" & liked it enough that I sent in for the 20 albums for $80 deal that was going at the time (this was a time in my life where I was making more money than usual & didn't have a girlfriend to make me live a little nicer off the extra cash).  Maybe it's because the first song I remember hearing by Jandek is on this album that I gravitated towards it, but this was pretty instantly my favorite of his & clearly the one I'd listened to the most times.  It reminds me of what I like to think I would've done if I'd recorded an album in high school on LSD armed with the acoustic guitar I had with broken tuning pegs.  But at the same time it sounds out there & crazy, the whole thing feels intentional & like a letter from a friend on the brink of discovering the ultimate truth of reality.
It's probably been three years since I last listened to this album & I really have no reason why.  Probably because after seeing him live a while ago, it felt like part of the magic was gone (due in large part to the backing band he had).  Wow, this is still brilliant.  Put him next to Bob Dylan as one of the best songwriters of the twentieth century.  Just a man & his acoustic guitar & that's all you need.  When I put the record on it immediately feels like the room is turned into Jandek's home, he penetrates.  But as much as I love this record I know it's not for everyone.  The guitar is tuned to bring a degree of emotional accuracy rather than tonal accuracy.  The same with the vocals.  People want to call this a blues record & I can see it being up there with some of the Leadbelly stuff that I also like a lot.  This is generally thought of as Jandek at his most raw & that's what I want.  Some how undistilled is better than cleaned up & purified.  The lyrics here stick with you, every time I hear someone talking about going to jail I think of the lines "I've been to jail before / Been let out to" & whenever I see two spiders I remember "two spiders meet on a rock / but they're the same anyway." 
I can't really explain what makes this record special.  There is a vibe like it was made from the sole survivor of a cult that committed suicide & I think that feeling is part of what allowed the rise of the Jandek mythos.  This is the second record (or first record if you credit the first album to The Units) & if you only ever hear one Jandek record, this probably should be the one (though I am also quite fond of the much later The Gone Wait).
The strangest thing for me is on this record Jandek is presumably 35, the same age I am right now.  So it gives me a certain degree of hope that I could go on to do something brilliant & start a new career & we all need to have that feeling of hope more often.

American Music Club: Mercury

There was a period in my life I was obsessed with this album. I have vivid memories of walking, driving and just sitting around – probably drinking, AMC is a drunk’s band if there ever was one – listening to Mercury.

Eventually I moved on to something else and it’s been years since I’ve wanted to listen to Mercury. It was imposing. It seemed too dark, bleak, too utterly devoid of hope. Not a place I wanted to revisit.

So now, 10, 15 years on, how does it sit? Well, it’s still an alcoholic’s oblivion of an album. It’s still not something I ever want to listen to with any great frequency.

Still, this has to be one of the most beautifully recorded and mixed major label albums I have ever heard, which I guess with Tchad Blake in the mixing chair and Bob Ludwig mastering should come as no surprise.

The supporting instrumentation is beautiful. The piano calls, the martial drumming, especially Vudi’s gorgeous guitar leads and textures. Vudi was later roped in as a live member of Swans, which seems like a natural progression to me. That this guy is driving a bus somewhere right now is a crime against humanity.

More than anything, though, shines lead guy Mark Eitzel’s writing. This guy makes me wish I was a better lyricist. This review really could be nothing but song quotes…

The album opens with this chipper salutation, from “Gratitude Walks”:
Why don't you be good for something
And draw down the shade
On a sign that sat up all night shivering
On a sign that sat up all night afraid

…and later…
Take a number for your big lament
They sold the rules of dreamland
in cotton, wool, and cement

…in “I’ve Been A Mess”, Eitzel ponders Lazarus’ disposition upon being reanimated by Jesus Christ:
What were the first words that crowd heard him speak
I bet he was cursing at the sky
I bet he wasn’t turning no other cheek

You know how when you were young and dumb, you could sometimes find yourself getting wasted with people you actually actively despised? “Hollywood 4-5-92”:
My revenge against the world
Is to believe everything you say
Balanced as you are on a pile of empty bottles

“Dallas, Airports, Bodybags” nails the horror of being hungover in an airport:
Shuffling through people like cards
Oh let ‘em blow around like sand
Maybe it’ll uncover some beauty in their eyes
Maybe it’ll give me a place to breathe
Maybe give me some room to stand

There’s so many more – you could pull great quotes from any song on here. Eitzel is as great or better a writer as any of your Dylans, your Neil Youngs, your Leonard Cohens. Sure, those guys are masters. Eitzel is in the same class.

The only complaint I have about Mercury is that at nearly an hour long, it’s, well, too long. But I’d be hard pressed to choose a song to cut, save maybe the instrumental “More Hopes and Dreams”, which would give us back what, 2 minutes?

I’ll leave you with my favorite line from the album, from “The Hopes and Dreams of Heaven’s 10,000 Whores”

You were a scarecrow looking for a bonfire to sleep on

...seriously. Read that again:

You were a SCARECROW looking for a BONFIRE to SLEEP ON

Realpeople: Holland aka Beirut March of the Zapotec disc II

I bought this disc at a Beirut show in Brooklyn a couple years or more ago and naturally listened to the two included EPs on the ride home to Boston.  The Beirut portion of this two EP set found it’s way into my stereo a few more times after that but the Realpeople disc was never listened to again. That is until today.

For those not in the know, prior to Zach’s discovery of Balkan jams, he apparently had this band Realpeople that relied on synthesizers and for some reason he put together an EP for this release, possibly to prove he wasn’t just a one trick pony or perhaps he thought he had some songs laying around that didn’t fit the Beirut mold or maybe he just missed synthesizers.  It’s probably safe to say that I’ll probably never listen to it again. While it’s not a bad disc, it doesn’t do much to warrant more attention than as just a curiosity.  Basically it’s a Beirut record with different instrumentation and as the disc progresses it becomes more and more exactly like a Beirut record with the addition of horns and accordions while the more synth reliant songs just wind up making me wish I was listening to Sebastian Tellier instead.  They actually wind up sounding like dance mixes of Beirut songs more so than a separate project altogether.  Not sure what he was going for with this release, but he probably could’ve saved the label some dough with the fancy packaging and just released the single EP and included the songs that were exactly like Beirut and had a stronger release.

The Cure: The Cure

I did a review of this album a few years ago for QRD and since not all memories are good memories I thought I'd revisit.   Check It Here.

Well, basically I feel exactly the same as that review back then as I do now. Although I’ve warmed up to the opener “Lost” and the closer “Promise”, mostly this album is unmemorable and in my mind it doesn’t really exist and then I’ll see the album cover pop up on the internet someplace such as Amazon or something and I remember it existed.  In the spirit of this blog this time I decided to go back and give it a listen much to my dismay.  It’s sad really, because the B-sides and unreleased songs are so much better than the actual album.  Usually there’s a balance with the Cure. “A Letter to Elise” versus “The Big Hand” comes to mind.  More importantly though, I noticed that my review/writing style (more like the lack thereof) in regards to reviews has also remained intact and that I should put more effort into spelling and grammar.  I’ve never claimed to be a writer or a blogger or any of that but if I’m going to put forth effort I should actually put forth effort.  We’ll see how that goes.

Samhain III: November's Coming Fire

How appropriate. Samhain has always been Glenn Danzig's most underrated project, neither as catchy and fun as Misfits nor as mainstream as Danzig, the band fell somewhere in between. And even amongst Samhain albums, November's Coming Fire stands out as something unique. I remember being in Germany and a big metal fan just getting into punk (which is weird since most punk bands morph into metal), we would travel from our little village to Frankfurt to go to the WOM. At the time you were able to find all sorts of unofficial releases on vinyl, many coloured Misfits vinyl were purchased and eventually that lead to the purchase of Samhain. Everything about this release fit exactly where the imagery Glenn tried to keep up should be. The music was dark, morbid, intense and fit the mood of dark autumn nights lit only by open fire, sort of like a goth camping trip. The back cover photography was exactly the mood the music on the record conveyed. Having seen some bootlegs of the band during this era, it's safe to say that what they captured on tape was something more special than their live set which emphasized the energy more than the mood of the songs. It was goth, not metal, not punk and definitely not the blues rock that Danzig became. For a couple years straight I'd listen to this record what seemed like a couple times a week. Songs like "Mother of Mercy," "Let the Day Begin," "To Walk the Night," and "November's Fire" were all favourites. To me this is Glenn at his peak and it's all been downhill since then. I think the opening instrumental could have been left off but aside from that it's pretty much a perfect record. Well aside from that and the drums being overdubbed, at times you can hear where the beats aren't exactly synched to each other.

Turtletoes: Jackersville

I have a real sort of love-hate relationship with music. In the past few years, most of the new music I've been exposed to has been distastefully mediocre and homogenized, and much of the old music I used to listen to has become dry and dull. I fill my days with podcasts (http://www.guttertrash.net), comedy, books, news and talk radio. Music can stay the fuck away. Stay away, Music! You're not welcome here. Not without handjobs and lollipops.

So, when invited to this blog and told it was to review old favorite albums long strayed, I thought to myself "Brian John Mitchell, what are you trying to get me into this time?! Goddammit!" I want no part of this. Why am I accepting the invite? What are you doing, fingerbrains? I was later told I didn't have to review an album, I could watch an old movie or read an old comic. But it was too late. I listened to something.

Here's my problem. I find all artists to be unreliable pretentious fucktards without any sense of fun or basic human decency, but I find musicians to be the absolute worst kind of artist, especially lyricists. Don't get me wrong - all my best friends are artists. They're also everything I just mentioned. Especially the musicians. Good lord, the musicians. I also think that any creative person who can become adept at their chosen outlet is an amazing human being with a fantastic capacity for mastering an instrument, be it brush or guitar. They're also just, y'know, pretentious scum. But man, lyricists (and poets) need to all go fuck themselves in the faces with a funstick.

Or this.

But back when I listened to music heavily, around '95 and '96, I was always searching for something new and different. I had a couple of friends fully entrenched in the indie music scene at the time - brothers Tim and Joe - and still are to this day. We all worked together at a movie theater, I was finishing up high school and getting ready for art school. I would often work the popcorn popping shift - 8 straight hours in a tiny hot room, popping corn. Luckily there was a stereo, and I would listen to anything and everything. Tim let me borrow a CD from a band called Turtletoes. He claimed to have gone to Ohio University with the primary musician - John Hughes III. I don't know if Tim was lying. He may have been, but it didn't matter, because that album blew my mind. I made a copy and listened to that thing 'til the tape broke. It got me through popcorn popping, art school, my night-manager job at a hotel, shoveling snow in one of the worst winters I can remember, and moving into my own place. I finally got my own copy of the CD back in 2001. It's been a few years since I last heard it all the way through, and so I made it my first choice for this blog.

Self-released from Hughes' own Chicago based Hefty Records, Jackersville was the only album put out under the guise of Turtletoes. In case you missed the connection, Hughes is indeed the son of the legendary filmmaker behind such movies as Baby's Day Out and Curly Sue. The album is a fantastic fusion of jazz and indie rock. Every song is hook-filled and memorable, while all at the same time discordant and schizophrenic. But there's not a track that doesn't have some part that will stick in your head for days. The tracks tend to switch back and forth between jazzy instrumental pieces and rockin' indie/fusion songs. There's no denying that I love the instrumentals far more than the tracks with lyrics. They all have a fantastic rhythm and composition that still reaches into my dead black heart and massages it back to life and gives me chills. Strung together, the instrumentals could be the soundtrack from some sort of Neo-Noir film in the vein of Robert Altman and Elliot Gould's version of Phillip Marlowe.

That said, the "song" songs are also incredibly listenable, enjoyable and catchy. The lyrics all reek of the ridiculousness of a musician high on his own ego and pretension, in a sort of post-Beck way, though this album hit before Beck fully enjoyed mainstream popularity (Odelay was still a year away). Hughes is also not a fantastic singer by any means, but I've never believed that a good singing voice is necessary to making an effective performance. Hell, I love Lemmy.

That guy.

I don't think I could ever go back to listening to this album as much as I did in 1996, but I still definitely love it as much as I did, if not more, due to the simple lack of music I find enjoyable nowadays. I would always welcome Jackersville into my CD player or Windows Media Player. The handjobs are little rougher nowadays, could use some lotion, but the lollipops are just as sweet.

Cranes: Self Non-Self

Like many Cranes fans,  The first introduction to the band was as openers for The Cure's Wish Tour in 1992.  They came across the stadium with Alison's helium voice over dark songs and an emphasis on piano and guitar noise whilst abstract rhythms echoed.  Immediately after the show the hunt was on for the only release available at the time in the states, Wings of Joy.  What I heard was probably the most original collection of sounds I'd heard up to that point in my life.  The subsequent albums became more pop oriented and older releases were pretty much impossible to find in US based CD shops and in an age before widespread internet usage it was a blessing when their first proper release Self Non-Self was re-released by Dedicated later in the 90's.

Unlike the later more song driven and pop oriented albums, Self Non-Self assaults you with the contrast between fragile vocals and the harsh throbbing rhythms.   Obvious influneces included the Birthday Party, but its much more controlled and not a free for all (probably as a result of the lack of drug use in this band in comparison), and I read that the Young Gods were a big influence but i've never really gotten around to listening to them to be able to accurately say it's true.  Self Non-Self is definitely an album that a.) stands the test of time  and b.) sounds like no other album I've heard which probably is why it stands that test of time.  It's not something I can listen to on a regular basis which is probably why I haven't listened to it in quite some time and as a result I'm probably going to be listening to Wings of Joy pretty soon too.   The harsh rhythms, noise guitar, and simplistic repetitive melody structures are industrial and goth influenced but not in the corny electrogoth way, instead offer something more unique that I'm finding a difficult time describing accurately.  It's a pity to hear where they wound up when you listen to where they came from.  

Highlights include "Focus Breathe" and the live version of "Reach."

The Mission UK: Carved in Sand

1988-92 seemed to be a peak in the British music scene’s output, most of the bands that formed in the late 70’s & early 80’s seemed to have released their best material during this time frame and a new crop of bands that would carry the torch were formed.  The Mission UK fell into the former category and since they formed from a split with Andrew Eldritch’s Sisters of Mercy, they’ve released a few albums all seeming to lead up to Carved in Sand.  It was probably their most successful release both commercially and artistically. I’m sure some research would prove that out but it’s not really the point of this review so I’m going to let readers google that on their own if they care.

I purchased this release on cassette at the PX based on the strength of hearing their cover of Aerosmith’s “Dream On” (which at the time I didn’t realize was a cover and wasn’t on this release unfortunately).  Carved in Sand is pieced together the way you’d imagine a live set would come across with songs bleeding into the other, heavy 80’s drums, a wash of reverb over the guitars and upfront vocals.  The thing about the Mission UK is that musically nothing really stands out but instead it all works together to form a cohesive backdrop for Wayne Hussey’s vocals.  Whom in my opinion sounds like Bono, if he actually cared about what he was singing.  It’s full of passion to the point that it’s almost whining.  Both a blessing and a curse for the Mission because on one hand it fits perfectly and adds a different element to the music on the other, it’s sometimes unbearable and borderline cheese filled.   The album kicks off with “Amelia” a sweet song about father/daughter relations which starts off with fast acoustic strumming and Hussey’s whine, calling out to Amelia and damning her fathers actions and for the next five songs the Mission UK delivers a strong, nostalgic and peculiar arena rock set of songs.  Highlights include “Butterfly on a Wheel” and “Deliverance”.  Things start winding down around “Grapes of Wrath,” which reminded me that when I had the cassette, I probably rarely listened to side B.  The songs on the later half of this release mostly sound like the first half but less catchy or interesting, the only exception being the acoustic closer “Lovely.”  This album would make for good traveling music, riding alone in a car for long distances.  It actually reminds me of going to Spain, probably because I purchased it around the time I took a trip there for the first time, although in reality I probably didn’t listen to it once on the trip and in all likelihood I heard Snap’s “I’ve Got The Power” and Technotronix’s “Pump Up The Jam” way more that week.

The Sisters of Mercy: Some Girls Wander By Mistake

I bought this CD in 1993.  Pretty much the peak of my phase of being into the “goth scene” before getting fed up with how much of it was about fashion rather than music.  A part of getting this was that a girl I liked was into the song “Temple of Love.”  I was 18, so girls could still influence the music I listened to at least to a certain degree.  Even back then I remembered thinking this was a bit uneven, probably part of why I haven’t listened to it in about twelve years now.  It kicks off with “Alice” & me thinking, “Why haven’t I listened to this in so long?”  Then the rest of the record starts.  It totally has that production vibe of all the British proto-goth bands (Joy Division, Bauhaus, The Cure, etc.) & the weird swirling stereophonic reverbs remind me of when I used to take LSD & listen to this kind of music.  That probably is the best way to listen to a record like this.  Be 18 & depressed & lonely & intoxicated & trying to crawl into someone else’s brain to figure out how their vision of reality works & if yours is working properly (newsflash: it probably isn’t).  There are songs I like on here (“Alice,” “Heartland,” “Phantom,” “Body Electric,” “Adrenochrome”) & really take me back in time in a pleasant way.  Though it sounds incredibly like 1983 (when most of the songs were recorded), to me it sounds like 1993 & when I master time travel this might be the CD to take me back to that summer.