Hard to pick a favorite moment on the Morgen LP. Its acid rock solid from start to finish. So go get yourself a copy on vinyl, toss out that white label promo copy of Led Zeppelin I that you like to pull out and impress your buddies with when they drop by for an extended bong session and put Morgen in the slot that those fuckin' blues robbing limeys used to occupy on your record shelf. Cuz this is real blues rock, my fuzzy friends! And not that reverent bullshit that dickholes like whatshiname from that boring ass band whose name I've forgotten tries to "educate" you with. You wanna teach me about the blues? Don't teach me shit. Just play me something that isn't a goddamn jam in E or a well documented solo by Albert King. I hate you, Mr. Blues Guitarist.
So back to Morgen.
Sure it gets kinda hippie dippy at times, but when Steve Morgen lays into the fuzz, it makes the ride worth every single paisley unicorn moment! And he's not afraid to bypass the amp and plug right into the mixing board too. DIrect injection!
( Direct fuzz is one of my favorite noises. Its right up there with farts in the bathtub and the sound of some douchebag slipping on the icy sidewalk and cracking his assbone because its the middle of fucking January and he's still wearing flip flops and cargo shorts. )
So heres a real gem from the Morgen LP. Its called "Of Dreams" and its in my fuzz hall of fame. Dig it.
8.01.2010
Great Moments In Fuzztone: Hans Doolittle
Whoa Nellie! What the fuck is going on here? Is that a fuzzbox? Tape overload? It sounds like the guitar player plugged his axe into a wall socket and shoved a microphone down his throat to capture it! Hans Doolittle's super spazz fuzztone on this bonafide punk rock classic by the Mentally Ill sounds like its wants to jump off the vinyl, assume the form of a three eyed goat and have its way with my hindquarters!
When I listen to this lo-fi/pissed off/snot punk classic, it feels as though the walls are turning into margarine and I am about to be sucked into some sorta time/space portal like the friggin' house in Poltergeist! This shit is evil. And I love it!
Fuck those so called guitar gods. Clapton? Pussy. Page? Pussy. Every dick that ever graced the cover of a guitar mag? Pussies. The retard who played guitar on Gacey's Place? Genius.
When I listen to this lo-fi/pissed off/snot punk classic, it feels as though the walls are turning into margarine and I am about to be sucked into some sorta time/space portal like the friggin' house in Poltergeist! This shit is evil. And I love it!
Fuck those so called guitar gods. Clapton? Pussy. Page? Pussy. Every dick that ever graced the cover of a guitar mag? Pussies. The retard who played guitar on Gacey's Place? Genius.
Great Moments In Fuzztone: Jeff Beck On The BBC
In our first installment, lets have a listen to Jeff Beck's fuzz tone on a BBC session circa 1967. Hi Ho Silver Lining may be Micky Most driven pop poop, (Jeff has tried to disown this track since its inception. It was the centerpiece of a disastrous solo singing pop star foray that died a quick death.) but this BBC take is the SHIT. Its bigger, badder and more unhinged than its studio counterpart, and it's highlight has got to be this thick as molasses solo that I have included for your ears and eyes. Listen as the BBC engineers quickly grab the fader and try to wrestle it into submission after Jeff's first few notes overwhelm the backing track! And check out the quick blast of half step dissonance that Mr. Beck tosses in at the end. Sweet. Hunt down an illicit copy of Jeff's BBC sessions from 67-68. Quality is so-so, but the Truth era tracks are far superior to the official LP versions. Over and way out.
6.05.2010
Charlie Watts Is The Capricorn One Of Drummers
Charlie Watts is not a musician. But he is the worst drummer of the rock era. Worse than that dickhead in Poison. More awful than the pillow fluffing mommas boy in Sonic Youth. Or am I thinking about another band? Whatever. Most drummers blow. And how come Vinnie Appice never gets the praise that he deserves? What's up with that?
http://www.vinnyappice.com/
Anyway...
Chuckles Watts hits his snare like a 2 year old hits his little sister.
Weak. No balls.
Motherfucker even drops the ball on the the intro to Jumpin' Jack Flash on Get Yer Ya Yas Out, fer cryin' out loud! And thats one of his songs! Did he forget how it went? Whatta dick.
Listening to him on stage with the Rolling Stones is like hearing a guy who has never heard a goddamn Stones song in his life. He's a sham. And a pussyfart of a drummer.
Stop buying Stones records!
Don't make Charlie any better off than he already is. He didn't earn that 11th century castle that he calls home. He simply got lucky. That castle belongs to Keith and Brian.
But most importantly, please don't forget that Charlie Watts has no idea how to play the drums properly. That's the main thing. He's a mess back there behind the kit. And whats with the whole losing your place on a song you recorded light years ago fuckups on stage? Whats the matter, Charlie? Still can't figure out how get out of the chorus of Under My Thumb?
Fuck Charlie Watts.
The great Bernard Purdie on Charlie Watts;
"He may have shook a tambourine, but have you ever seen him play live? He does that little hitch with the snare and hi-hat. Guy can't keep himself from doing it if his life depended on it." Purdie is referring to the way Watts pulls off the hi-hat when he hits the snare. "What's he think he is, a fucking reggae drummer? That shit don't swing, that shit don't rock. Not even white folks can dance to that hitch!"
Amen, brother!
And that leads me to Jimmy Miller. Not only did he engineer the Stones, but he also played drums on "You Can't Always Get What You Want" and the second half of "Tumbling Dice". Seems that poor old Charlie couldn't hack it. Couldn't wrap his mind around something that wasn't four to the floor bar band slop. So Jim stepped in and nailed it. Probably did it one take too. AND his drum parts were crucial to both songs! Jimmy Miller "got it". Watts wilted like a week old head of cabbage. Fuck him. And fuck the Rolling Stones too. And don't give me this "But John, they were so loose and soulful!" bullshit. I'm not buying it. The Rolling Stones have been on autopilot since they killed Brian Jones. Small Faces forever!
p.s. The Rolling Stones would be way better if they had Dan Peters on traps. I would pay to see that.
5.05.2010
Staring Down The Piehole Of Life
4.30.2010
I Want A Watch Children Reunion!
Hey, Hey It's The Watch Children!
These paisley frocked weirdos were legendary in the 80s/90s Jersey Shore music scene. ( I must mention that "the scene" consisted of a couple of good bands floating on a toxic broth of irate hardcore boneheads and Bruce Springsteen teat lappers, so anything that was even slightly left of center was like manna from heaven for a jaded music lover like myself.) And like most fantabulous ideas, (Vanilla Coke, for one) they were around for too short of a time and then they were gone. Poof! Just like that. Check out one of my faves from their horribly/beautifully produced cassette. I humbly offer up the super genius candy psych monster, "Coconut Lifesaver". Listen as head Head Marc Saxton channels Space Oddity era Bowie and runs the whole sugary mess through Stacey Sutherland's Echoplex. These suburban punks were hot shit! Their lone "official" release, "How Does it Feel To Be So White?" is right up there with Easter Everywhere and Psychic Powerless Another Man's Sac in my own personal Drug Punk Valhalla. The Saxton tracks are creepy and out of whack, while the Martin Splichal songs are caveman-ish and troubling. Lennon & McWhatshisname aint got nothin' on these trouble makers!
Go ahead and Google the band name and cassette title, make a few illicit clicks here and there and dive into the poison lagoon.
Up next; The Laughing Soupdish, Ripping Corpse and Cold Beer!
4.26.2010
Enchancing Your Listening Experience
Void were the kings of scary noise/chemical huffing doom metal. Bubba Dupree made his guitar sound like a botched suicide.
Beautiful stuff. Buy the Void/Faith CD and scratch a pentagram through the Faith portion of the disc. Then listen to it while drinking straight Scots Miracle-Gro. You'll thank me later.
Seige were Boston goons. They were pissed about everything and mad all of the time. These dicks were probably the scourge of the local 7-11. Always loitering out front by the ice machine, and shoplifting anything that wasn't nailed down. What a bunch of assholes. Their records sound typical, but this live performance(and the other clips that are available on YouTube) make mincemeat outta Steely Dan's Aja when it comes to sonic perfection. Crisp and well defined highs! Clear and vibrant midrange! Thunderous lows! Its all here, jazz rock lovers. Take a lo-rez MP3 of the audio to your local hi-fi specialty shop and have em' play it on the biggest and most expensive stereo on the floor. Then take a dump on a $5,000 Austrian turntable and try to grab the security guys gun.
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