supersoul

Fedezan, calm down a bit, maybe do some work on yourself; they don’t pay for reviews here, so there’s no bread for that. Anyone can write anything, and everyone can express their opinion, especially about an author they love, but I don’t need your advice on how to rate it, nor do I feel the need to rate it myself. You do it, otherwise go bother someone else, because today is not the day.

But honestly, this frenzy to fill in the gaps of Debaser (as if it were a Panini sticker album to complete) by writing four hasty pieces, as imasoulman says, I think does more harm than good. A review, in my opinion, comes out well when you have something meaningful to say about an album and share it with others, rather than just to fill a void. In the end, someone in the future who writes something captivating about one of Hitch's best albums will also be accused of being repetitive. And Hitchcock left the Soft Boys because he considered them a band for kids (not to mention Television).

Damn, the Human Switchboard from Ohio... with the Farfisa and 100-watt amplified guitars, just great. The male/female vocal duet in "Refrigerator Door" was killing me.

The latest from the Jim Jones Revue is outstanding; it's 100 percent rock in an era where rock is said to be dead. If I may offer some advice, get your hands on Thee Hypnotics records from the early nineties if you don't have them already, where Jim was the frontman. As the reviewer rightly points out, today he delivers an anachronistic Jerry Lee Lewis, just as he was an anachronistic mix of hard psychedelic influences from Blue Cheer, Stooges, and MC5 back then.

"if we’re talking about Bill Fay, it means there’s still life on debaser..." and thank goodness for that...Bill Fay here will never reach the fame and views of Truce Baldazzi but he is an extraordinary character. Some time ago I read an interview where they said he ended up packaging frozen fish trays. That between the first namesake and this second one, something must have happened to his head like to Skip Spence or Roy Harper is evident from the two different covers: in the first, a clean-shaven young man walking away in a Freewheelin' Bob Dylan style, talking about the things of life accompanied by an orchestra; in the second, a bearded bear à la Rasputin/Manson who, with sparse accompaniment, speaks in apocalyptic tones about the end of the world, a concept album about an individual who feels the "calling" and has to face the "change." Besides the two records, there’s also a beautiful collection of demos recorded during those years where I recall a "Warwick Town" that is very Harper-esque...beautiful with that orchestral arrangement and even a lalalala.

thank you for handling a group like this ;)

Jon Spencer doesn’t quite fit in; he is a cross-cut saboteur, the Revelators are somewhat traditionalists with a punk approach that the reviewer strangely did not perceive while I’ve never heard country in their music. There are tracks a few minutes long that are pure, blazing punk. It’s no coincidence they were under the wing of Greg from the Oblivians. I’d say they are even fiercer than the Gories.

The Resonance one is more or less the European reprint of Buried Alive, then Crypt reissued everything on CD.

The group "Boy Can I Dance Good" is the Milk of Denny Carleton (former Moses), active with other bands since the late sixties in the Cleveland area, and I think he also played for a few years with the Pagans. What can I say? An unknown but extraordinary band in the city of the Dead Boys and Rocket From tha Tombs, as well as the seminal punk group Electric Eels. We have to thank Crypt for the posthumous CD compilations including Everybody Hates You and the one reviewed here (before, there were only the singles including the lethal "What's This Shit Called Love/Street Where Nobody Lives"), but I remain fond of the vinyl Buried Alive from Treehouse Records, one of the first compilations on the Pagans in 1987. Like the early Ramones records, you have to consume them all in one go because one track pulls you into the next like cherries, but these guys were tougher.

blessed are you because the Boss doesn’t make me enjoy music in the same way as he did 30 years ago when he sang in Rosalita "Now I know your mama she don't like me 'cause I play in a rock and roll band." Conversely, when I listen to "On Fyre" by the Lyres of Jeff Monoman Connolly live even today, I enjoy it like a hedgehog, and I wouldn’t trade it straight up for a ticket to a Boss concert that costs 120 times as much.