Tubby Hayes ‘Voodoo session’ (trunk). You should all be familiar with the providence of this release and the story surrounding the actual session tracks within. However a recap for those who’ve been found nodding at the back. Jonny Trunk famous rambler and gatherer of rare records and master reels from sources such as charity shops, jumble sales, house clearances and rubbish skips gets an unsolicited email from Simon Spillett who during the course of excavating an archive of recordings in preparation for an intended biography about Tubby Hayes, comes across master reels of the legendary ’Voodoo’ sessions. These cuts featured in some shape or form on the horror flick ‘Dr Terrors House of Horror’ in a scene wherein Roy Castle fronted Tubby Hayes and Co through a slice of tweaked West Indian magik - rumour has it Castle landed the part when Acker Bilk the original first choice fell ill. Recorded as part of a demo session with the intention of providing the films entire soundtrack (an idea later aborted) a single was released featuring Mr Castle’s vocals - a much sought after rarity these days. However this reel features the unadulterated instrumental recordings. For the best part of five decades they lain gathering dust presided over firstly by Mr Hayes’ mother and then his girlfriend. The three tracks now find themselves the subject of a collectors issue 7 inch release via Trunk all housed in a 60’s styled EP sleeve and limited to just 666 numbered copies (ours being #511 - with a rumoured miss-press sleeve kicking around of which roughly 70 copies exist) - the release is expensive with proceeds being used to help pay for Mr Hayes’ girlfriend to fly out and see her folks. So that’s the domestics as to the release itself - well aside the fact that its stock value will soar once it sells out of its original pressing - it features three cuts ’Voodoo’, ’Give me Love’ and ’Bailey’s Blue’. All recorded in June 1964 they find Hayes and Co at the height of their powers, ’Voodoo’ itself a solid state gem of smoked and laid back lounge jazz at its finest - exotic, sweaty and partly claustrophobic and impressed with a dizzying swirl like hypnotic motif that’s deeply set with a aromatic tropical flavouring all the time pierced by some amazing squirreling back draft scowls. Flip the disc for ’give me love’ - chilled and sophisticated and featuring Kenny Lynch on vocals - need I say any more while ’bailey’s blues’ rounds up the pack with another nifty helping of hep cat finger clicking hip wiggling coolly down tempo nocturnal groove. Essential. www.trunkrecords.com
http://www.myspace.com/unexploded - something weird afoot the showcase player found on the unexploded my space page in that two of the tracks - ’unavoidable’ and ’bitchslapping a crocodile’ literally kicked us out and just plain refused to give up their sounds. Still small mercies so on and so forth we did manage to grab an earful of ’invert’ before it itself decided to follow its comrades into whatever shyly retired hidey hole they saw fit to relocate out of watchful eyes to. This lot hail from Copenhagen, well I say this lot in actual fact its just one person - Spine - who is currently putting the finishing touches to a debut full length platter which is due to break cover any day soon. Prior to that reputations have been growing following appearances on various compilations put out by imprints such as DBA and Stargate as well as a few rogue promos courtesy of Neologic. The demurring gravitational tug of ’invert’ is neigh on impossible to resist, a sublime slice of tenderly amorphous panoramic dream pop metered out by looping clock working beats, lunar synth swirls, celestial opines and shimmering riff chimes all seductively harnessed upon a pulsar like lovelorn liquid landscape set upon the subtle foundations of an acutely pop calibrated kraut dialect, we suspect we need to hear more and soon.
Nasty Grind #20 - its Sunday morning as we write this up with a cup of coffee and a fag to hand, the sound of twittering birds fills the air with their early morning chorus, Dylan the cat is loitering with intent in the bushes , we needn’t worry he won’t do owt - he’s more scared of his own shadow, the sun for a change is out and beaming brightly bathing our seating spot in a warming glow. We are feeling pretty chilled. It’s idyllic - sort off. What better way to soundtrack this moment than quickly tuning into the latest e-transmission from Lord Muck via his Nasty Grind show. Show #20 is a largely Brit psyche / freak beat special - a positive cornucopia of strange delights - the familiar sound of the Avengers theme stresses the eccentric vibe - some well heeled nuggets and forgotten friends are here to join the festivities not least Curve Air’s ’back street luv’ a track which we should admit is occasionally dug out from the collection whenever the need for a spot of cheering is needed. Elsewhere there’s some nifty candy flipped west coast vibed power throb from Les Fleurs de Lys, some tasty Monkees meets Birds-esque psych jangle from Fire who I’m ashamed to admit I suspect we’ve previously missed out on (surely not), throw in some Pink Fairies, Tintern Abbey and Tomorrow. Not forgetting to add in some out of it fuzzy Hammond freak outs courtesy of the Curiosity Shoppe, a gem from Paul Jones whose first four solo albums ever decent home should own, apply a few side servings of the End with the kaleidoscopic pop lilt that is ‘under the rainbow’, a bit of brass lined fuzzy Dylan-esque-ness from Mike Proctor’s via ‘my commuter’ and the seriously wasted Twink with ‘10,000 words in a cardboard box’. oh yea and intersperse it all with excerpts from ‘Henry at Rawlinson’s End’ - well flipped and trippy - makes you want to light up a funny fag and go in search of a maypole to dance around - hang on I‘ll just get me map for directions. www.garagepunk.com
Rebellious Jukebox ‘another precious day’ (ebony red). Debut single from the Rebellious Jukebox who are, or should I say is, the alter ego of a certain Steve Eyre of Lincolnshire fame who during one idle afternoon decided to abscond to the shed as was his want in order to begin cobbling together a ‘lo-fi glitch’ type sound, though emerged some hours later brandishing something a little more ‘anti folk’ in design and ‘lo-fi rock n’ roll ‘in sound. Don’t you find that always the case, mischievous things these sheds. Well that loosely is how the press release describes events (see speech commas to identify exactly which if you be so kind) only to further report that the intention was to create songs that had been ’made on mucky instruments in an oily fag stained shed’. there’s that shed again. Anyhow this isn’t strictly out for another month and will - all things being well - be quickly pursued by a whole EP’s worth of similar accidents of nature entitled curiously enough ’nature’s accident’. for now though ’another precious day’ which opens to the breeze dried spectres of Fahey / Elmore James like sliding delta blues riff drifts before revving up the ante and getting a mite sassy in a hip jiggling way and throwing its mojo out of the pram opting to strut its stuff with a spot of slyly infectious and snaking barn ruffling death rattled folk blues re-drilled with a becoming rollicking pop skin. Think that covers the blighter. Comparisons to Beck do not go unheeded though we here are more of the mind that this picks its scabs earned from wearing its Cooder, Burnside and Beefheart badges pinned to its flesh whilst proudly wearing its Mojo Nixon and ’68 Comeback t-shirts, keynote moment of the cut though are the teasingly brief suspended shimmering tonalities that kick in at 2.47 - very Will Bunnymen. Classy. www.myspace.com/rebelliousjukebox
LR Rockets ‘renee loves losers’ (ctrl.alt.delete.). Think I’m right in saying that this is the umpteenth release from these waggish souls in as many weeks - pardon the French but they appear to be shitting delirious ditties like no ones business of late and this blistering babe is no exception. Out in a months time pressed upon a by all accounts tasty looking picture disc type thing which features exclusive shots by Gavin Watson of ‘skin and punks lost archives 1978 - 1985’ fame, this acutely cute n’ contagious speaker spanking salvo is a twin pronged electro shocked floor rogering acrylic paint bomb, headed up by the rather excitable sounding ’Renee loves losers’ a tale of falling for people who’ll only disappoint - ah yes we’ve known a few too many of those in our battle scarred exchanges with cupid’s wonky arrow - is frantic and frenetic, wiring riffs, heart stopping panic stricken dislocated rhythms, lashings of demented, schizoid and skewiff accents whose remit is to burrow deep into your psyche and cause all manner of danceable damage - quite frankly this is liable to leave in its wake scorch marks on the floors of the local hip n’ trendy indie dance haunts along with a bus line of swooning casualties flip the disc for our preferred side - like the much loved Victorian English Gentlemens Club it seems these impish pups have been stealing an earful of Adam and the Ants’ ‘dirk wears white sox’ - and why not we ask (responses and reasons to the contrary on a postcard to the usual address if you dare) for ’ok lets talk’ comes across as something a little more than a passing close relation of Goddard and Co’s ‘Zerox’, the head drilled and nagging eye poking hysteria, the wiring psychosis and the searing sinew tightening savagery of the hot wired and agitated wall of sound that they seek to smother you in makes for a punishing show of intent - you may as well add to the mix elements of Gang of Four and the Scars for added persuasion not that its needed - but you never know - and just in case you missed such detail - we love the bugger to bits. www.myspace.com/lrrockets
Sarah Grace ‘come fly’ (self released). Okay we’ll immediately and impatiently put our hands up like a school child in need of an urgent toilet break to avoid an accident in the downstairs plumbing department and admit that this is normally our type of thing, a little to light and mid afternoon radio 2 for us though that said we’re not so stupid and stubborn as to not realise its appeal. Ms Grace according to the attaching press release was the grateful recipient of a £15,000 recording war chest when won a competition hosted by those rather lovely people over at slicethepie.com which she has since spent on lost nights boozing and smoozing and smoking funny fags. Nah only joking I think we’re mixing her up with someone else, none of that nonsense for our Sarah no siree - instead she’s been busy beavering away in the studio putting the finishing treatments to a forthcoming debut full length from which this disturbingly mellowed beauty is drawn by way of an early warning teaser. ‘come fly’ is an off balanced and jaunty slice of summery driftwood, tousled with a love tipped affection, light and fluffy, trippy and skippy as it weaves a tad giddy like some dizzily dainty love swept Judie Tzuke amid the subtly smoked intones of tenderly soulful brass fanfares and the summer’s afternoon shower of 60’s key motifs. Mind you it’s the flip side that should catch the straying affection of would be listeners, caught us a tad on the hop we don‘t mind admitting - all bitter sweet and head bowed, ‘cry me to sleep’ just aches as it peels away its protective skin to reveal its inward vulnerability while simultaneously gathering in depth and texture to unfurl into a resplendent honey tipped haze of 60’s Hammond motifs, okay its not quite Chicken Shack but you can see where its reaching, that said there’s no denying that it very much tempers an emotional path so often visited by Sarah McLachlan. www.myspace.com/sarahgracebandin
Aritomo ‘e no naka no sora ukabu niwa - el jard in volador en la pintura’ (bracken)…. Or ’the flying garden in the picture to give it its rough English translation. Not the first time that we’ve had occasion to fondly feature Aritomo - in fact it was via missive 143 that we first encountered this fuzzy psych folk alchemist when into our laps dropped ’we become the cloud….’ dropped into our laps again (via Bracken) to mysteriously weave its supernatural enchantment. So impressed were we at what we were hearing on this gem like twin set that we fired off an email and ended up purchasing vinyl copies of his brace of ultra limited self released full lengths ’saku ena - blooming the ena’ and kowai komorebi - fearful sunshine filtering through foliages’ both of which were joyfully received here (along with various bits and bobs of wonderful looking art work and a handwritten note) and almost played to destruction. Both these releases have since been the subject of a CD re-issue by the much admired Beta Lactam Ring crew. In addition to these there’s also been a third album that must have been slipped out secretly and has now been the cause of our record collection sorrowfully pining its absence. It’s like that you know very sensitive (and noisy). So it’s a given thing that we’ll be sourcing a copy of that sometime this week. Anyway that’s the domestics nearly done - just needs to be said that aside being a solo musician Aritomo also plays as part of Japanese four piece Mamidori - a kind of progressive folk band who to these ears sound not unlike Sunburned Hand of the Man had they relocated and jumped onto the Elephant 6 Collective wagon trail. In between all this he also manages somehow to find time to sculpt and paint. His latest opus (and fourth at a quick count) comes on both CD and a limited vinyl pressing (one your bog standard card sleeve with inserts the other - v.v.limited edition set housed in a gatefold sleeve - all artwork / inserts provided for by Aritomo). Featuring nine tracks - alas the titles are in Japanese - so it‘ll be track numbers being used to tell them apart. ’flying garden’ may well be unlike anything you’ve previously heard in your life. Both spellbinding and nigh on unclassifiable if you’re looking for reference markers you couldn’t do any worse than re-familiarising yourself with the early career work of Animal Collective, Damon and Naomi’s occasional flirtations with Ghost (especially on track 3), Deerhoof, Nagisa Ni Te and to a lesser extent fellow BLRR-er Brunnen - for Aritomo is one of those rare breed of musicians whose delicately spun acoustic application is so faintly weaved that it sits somewhere on the hazy horizon between what passes for reality and dream, the melodies tender and translucent dissipate and swirl with an amorous and amorphous affection that’s partly hymnal while simultaneously being subtly dappled in waif like lysergic shadings. All at once fragile and frail, the carefree flurries and the genteel and nimble grace of it all at times nods affectionately towards Nick Drake‘s more reflectively faraway moments, the spectral detailing like whispering apparitions lilt and lull you with their sleepy headed hypnotic tranquillity (none more so than the sighing frost tipped chamber toned mountain folk inclines of ‘track 2‘ with its softly succulent watery chime corteges), the deftly stroked strums lend an air of beautified simplicity to proceedings - it really is mesmeric stuff and quite as though you’ve somehow stumbled upon some invisible to the naked eye secret garden. Beguiling doesn’t even begin touch it.
For the aforementioned Mamitori go to…
http://www.myspace.com/mamitori
Rock n’ Rolla #21 - Mars Volta are the bi monthly cover stars of this particular issue and also grace the inside in a 6 page centrepiece interview - joining the ranks of the all star roll call are Dinosaur Jr, Pissed Jeans, Yob, Shrinebuilder and Black Boned Angel whose ’eternal love’ set fro a few years back is still dug out and whipped upon the trusty hi-fi when the natives get a tad restless - a new album ’verdun’ is high on our wants list. Label of love this time of asking is Rune Grammofon who despite our best efforts with clearly written orders wrapped around bricks and lobbed through the windows of Cargo still annoyingly slip under the radar - mind you we do have the good fortune of having nailed a copy of In the Country’s ’whiteout’ - on double white vinyl to boot - which will be getting a most favourable review as and when. Then there’s your essential listening experience for the two months courtesy of the well heeled review section - we’ve even spotted a few nuggets there that are currently the cause of sleepless nights through their absence in our gaff - namely Cave’s ’psychic summer’ and Hopewell’s ’good good desperation’ while both Witch hunt and We Insist are primed for imminent mentions in these very pages, oh yea there appears to be a new Mike Patton set out which no doubt needs hearing - the man himself also features in the live round up alongside Throbbing Gristle, the Pixies and Jesus Lizard while before we nearly forget to mention it - James Plotkin surrenders to the pins under the finger nails and bright lights in the face for the Q&A interrogation. Anything we missed - just buy the blighter.
Trail ’prism’ (trail music). More emotionally turbulent souls I’m afraid, this lot have apparently snucked beneath their collective belts a debut full length entitled ’to the rest of the world’ from which this debut single is culled. Having already made it to the last 10 of O2’s Undiscovered roll call in 2007 as well as lashing the chasing pack to take Capital radios Unsigned award last year interest and word of mouth is mounting on the London based five piece. ’Prism’ is a colossal calling card, breathlessly gliding through the gears from tender to turbulent in the blink of an eye, this throbbing super charged dynamo soars and sears all the time arcing forlornly sapped by a melancholic tear stained undercurrent that drags down deep on your heart strings as it majestically opines amid the sleek and slick production values and the panoramic terrains all the time endowing your listening space with its bruising ache. No doubt destined for heavy drive time radio rotation though us here suggest you take a little peak at the punishing pile driver pulsar that is ‘fumes’ which you can find over on their MS page at www.myspace.com/trailmusic
Baxter ‘end of the world’ (malloty up). Okay the press release notes that this lot have in their ranks a member of a Scottish rock act who attained local cult status and on their travels supported Girls Aloud and Ocean Colour Scene, someone who used to be in New Zealand indie types Revolver and a former boy band member. So that’s the domestics done with. Are you nervous. it’s the mere mention of boy bands that’s done isn’t it - go on be honest - no one else is reading this - so your secrets safe. Did we mention that this particular boy band had the distinction of being the first act to be kicked off from whatever sad bastard TV show that passes for a comatose Saturday’s nights televisual viewing. I guess your quaking in fear now wondering worriedly just what the hell is lurking on the grooves of this four track debut EP. Well you needn’t. Baxter - not to be confused with the thunderous beat grind combo of the same name albeit with an additional ‘x’ who appeared via Bearos a few years ago are a five piece - 4 chaps and one lady, who frankly make the most emotionally turbulent of sounds, the type of which that drag you headlong on a rollicking rollercoaster ride one minute lifting you high on peaks of euphoria and then the next plummeting you to the depths of heart aching despair. Okay agreed its not a new thing but my word can they carve a right royal anthem driven nugget or four as happens to be the case here. Truly tumultuous stuff that sees ‘end of the world‘ heading up the charge, reminiscent it should be said of the much missed 50hz who blazed a trail of promised glory a few years back only to disappear off the radar then momentarily re-appear before absconding again into who knows where (clues as to their current location / activities on a postcard please to the usual address). Anyway as said much in mind of 50hz in terms of the way they appear a little to at ease in their mastery of that loud / quiet and crushing / celebratory dynamic, this beauty in particular cast asunder with a punishing tear swelled undercurrent that’s awash and tethered by a searing power tripped haloing of stratospheric piercing struts, between all this epic engineering moments of crestfallen lulls dink the senses bathing you with a glimpse of elated hope through a downcast and resigned to the fates bitten lip. The bracing rapid fire drill that is ’standing at the edge of the tide’ is laced with a pulse racing sinew tightening speaker punching throb that literally pins you flat against the wall, dressed in dreaming wide screen key swathes and stricken with a tightly calibrated punitive riff burn if we didn’t know any better we’d have to say it was a sign of encouragement to go forth seek out an open space during a torrential storm lashed downpour and scream at the world. ’something got to give’ provides in our view the sets best track, a bit of a quiet one, mellow and forlorn and cutting deep to such an extent you may need counselling. Which leaves ’avenue’ to pick up the pieces despatched as it is with a glowing demurring splendour that nibbles away at the latter career work of James. Need we say more. A bit of a gem really. www.baxteruk.com
We All Inherit the Moon - of whom we should extend a word of thanks, not that they’ll be tuning in to read this being as they all no doubt have hectic social calendars and are probably right at this moment doing fab rock n’ roll things while their super model girlfriends are pining away counting down the seconds until their safe return home to whatever glitzy pad they own in some upmarket and arty sector of whatever town / city. Anyhow we’ve just received vinyl copies of their two releases to date - both much loved and fondly reported in despatches in these very pages at some point or other. They currently have a cassette only release doing the rounds via the ever wonderful Scotch Tapes who will we be mentioning more of in the coming days not least because we’ve just received the latest opus from the Insect Explosion - a mighty thing it is to. As to We All Inherit the Moon - these albums are lovely looking things - first up comes their debut 5 track set, one side featuring the sounds the flip side an individual hand etched drawing - all come replete with a limited edition and signed John Thompson print and pressed up on quality 180gm wax. The other release - a split affair with the Ascent of Everest - ultra limited to just 100 numbered copies - ours in case your keeping notes on such details being #78 - again pressed up on heavy duty wax and housed in a rather lovely looking hand screened flip jacket sleeve. For further details go to http://www.myspace.com/weallinheritthemoon
Here’s a video that their friend Rob made….
And that’s it for a day or so - as always a heartfelt thank you to all those who’ve tuned in, sent stuff or had some kind of hand in these ramblings. For submission details please refer to previous singled out’s or else visit www.myspace.com/thesundayexperience - if you do send stuff and want it to go to me then - DO NOT SEND TO ITALY - I NEVER SEE THE BLIGHTERS.
