Way back in August 1976, “Fast” Eddie Clarke (guitar), LemmyKilmister (bass and vocals) and Phil “Philthy Animal” Taylor (drums) got together at the famous Manticore Studio in Fulham, England. That new, classic Motörhead lineup was recorded for the first time there, and now those recordings have been released nearly fifty years later.
Starting with an instrumental intro, the band wastes no time with “Leavin’ Here.” They put down a fast, heavy rocker that might make you quit your job or current relationship. The swaggering groove of “Vibrator” is matched well with Kilmister’s pub-punk vocals. “Help Keep Us on the Road” has Clarke’s guitar at the front and Kilmister’s vocals at the back.
“I’ll give you a chance to do the right thing,” Kilmister warns on “The Watcher.” Taylor’s drums are sharp on the track, as is Clarke’s solo. The new lineup’s take on “Motörhead” is as gritty and growling as you hope it will be. The album closes with two great instrumentals, “Witch Doctor” (with Clarke and Kilmister going bonkers) and “Iron Horse / Born to Lose,” and then alternate takes of “Leavin’ Here,” “Vibrator,” and “The Watcher.”
The LP version of The Manticore Tapes comes with a bonus recording a live show from 1977 in Birmingham that includes live versions of all the “Manticore” tracks as well as “Train Kept A-Rollin’,” “City Kids,” and “White Line Fever.”
This is an unearthed gem for not only fans of Motörhead and NWOBHM bands, but also metal, rock, and music historians.
Chicago rapper, producer, an all-around cool cat Ric Wilson finds and speaks many truths on his newest EP, America Runs on Disco. The title alone is accurate, whether you want to believe it or not. Wilson wrote the record during his bafflement over the 2024 election results and wanting to shake off the doldrums he was feeling.
He comes up with the funky, fresh, and frisky “They Can’t Get Next to You,” which blends rap with house music and Italo-disco touches. “Blah Blah Blah” (with Kiela Adira helping out on vocals) sizzles and snaps and will slide right into your next house party mix. Party Pupils join Wilson on “Missin’ My Window,” a fun track about not opening the door when opportunity knocks and offers you love or at least a fun night. It sounds like he missed a lot of opportunities while on tour, and “Chicago to London” is a bit of a sequel to it (“Come and get deez these disco balls.”).
The title track drops enough groovy bass to power a couple hip hop albums and comes with plenty of wisdom (“The only way to live is to accept you’ll die.”). “Everybody Red in the Face” has Wilson looking for calm in the storm of rage that’s grabbed the country by the throat, and wondering if he’s the only person searching for it (“Is anybody else out there, or am I alone?”). “When Pigs Fly” closes the EP with bright synth notes while Wilson drops bars that call out people who are embracing that anger or pretending to be hard because they’re afraid to be vulnerable or admit admit they’re wrong.
Wilson continues to drop sweet records like this. He knows the country needs to have a good time. He’s getting up early to make the disco. Don’t disappoint him by not getting any.
Mars Red Sky returned in 2023 with Dawn of the Dusk (which I can’t help but wonder if the title is a riff on Dawn of the Dead), which brings us down from outer space and plants us firmly on and underneath the Earth.
As seems customary, MRS open the album with a sonic blast that is led by Jimmy Kinast gravity well-like bass line. “Break Even” is a cautionary tale of selling out just to keep up with everyone else when you’re secretly miserable (“He’ll quit and join the race, the rank and file for normality. If you can make it there, you’ll make it anywhere. Just what you’d be making exactly is anyone’s guess.”). “Maps of Inferno” is a collaboration with Queen of the Meadow and has that band’s Helen Ferguson and MRS’ Julien Pras sharing vocals about guarding a sky-high tower (perhaps one of the ruins on the album’s cover) while the empire below lives in ignorant bliss while Pras’ guitar melts everything around it.
Kinast takes over lead vocals on “The Final Round” – a song that seems to be about that aforementioned tower guarding coming down to fight some horrible menace. The instrumental track “A Choir of Ghosts” is aptly named, as it’s spooky, heavy, and menacing. Mathieu Gazeau‘s drums take front stage on “Carnival Man,” moving from stoner metal rumbling to almost jazz-rock cymbal work.
After the brief instrumental “Trap Door,” we have “Slow Attack.” It encapsulates many of the album’s lyrics and themes of vigilance, combat, loneliness, isolation, ruin, and emergence from that ruin. Pras and Kinast’s guitars unleash fire from above on it while Gazeau’s drums bring to mind structures crumbling under that assault.
Mars Red Sky have begun dabbling in prog-rock with Dawn of the Dusk, which isn’t a bad thing. It will be interesting to hear where they go next. They’ve been to space and returned to an altered planet. What’s next? Back to Mars? A journey within the self? It should be a wild journey.
Melenas‘ Dias Raros (Strange Days) gets off to a great start with “Primer Tiempo” (“First Time”) – a song that hums and buzzes (thanks in great part to synths and keyboards from members Oihana and MariaMelenas). “No Puedo Pensar” (“I Can’t Think”) hits the theme of the album – days when you’re questioning decisions and even if you should worry about them. Oihana’s guitar strumming on it is top-notch.
The soft reverbed vocals and guitars of “29 Grados” (“29 Degrees”) are outstanding. Laura Torres‘ drums on “Despertar” (“Wake Up”) will certainly shake the cobwebs out of your head…but be warned that the synths and psychedelic guitar effects might lull you back into dream land. “El Tiempo Ha Pasado” (“Time Has Passed”) has lovely vocal harmonies from Oihana and bassist Leire Melenas and beautiful church organ-like sounds from Maria.
“Los Anemales” (“The Animals”) brings in krautrock elements and shows how well the Melenas can pull off mantra-like beats and bass (Leire’s groove on it is slick.) and mix them with psych-rock riffs. “3 Segundos” (“3 Seconds”) is one of the best rockers on the record. Leire locks down the track with her heavy bass tone and Laura drives it like she’s racing through the Pyrenees. Meanwhile, Maria’s keyboards and Oihana’s guitar chase after you like wailing police cars.
“Ciencia Ficción” (“Science Fiction”) does this cool switch about halfway through it from krautrock riffing to Lindsey Buckingham-like guitar work. “En Madrid” (“In Madrid”) has this lush feel to it that reminds me of Dum Dum Girls tracks. “Ya No Es Verano” (“It’s Not Summer Anymore”) will go on your “End of Summer” playlist from now on, because it has a brightness to it but the vocals have you pining for the start of summer now that you were just in the groove of having fun in the sun.
The album ends with the Velvet Underground-inspired “Vals” (“Waltz”), a great way to send us off with almost a caress and hopeful dreams.
It’s a beautiful record that feels otherworldly at times. We’re all living in strange days. This album will help with that if you need it.
You can interpret the cover of Skloss‘ debut album, The Pattern Speaks, in a couple different ways. Is the cover image light and matter being drawn into a black hole by its massive gravity well, or is it light and matter bursting from a void? Either option alters all reality around, within, and beyond it.
So does this album.
Husband and wife duo Karen Skloss (drums and main vocals) and Sandy Carson (guitars and backing vocals) create tremendous power that seems to change physics. Gravity feels heavier, colors look brighter, clouds move in strange patterns, trees loom larger, and sounds almost become solid masses. The opening title track is a reminder that patterns exist among the chaos of the universe. Knowledge is there for the taking if you give yourself the time to observe without judgement. The patterns will speak to you. The roar of the song shakes you like re-entry from orbit.
“Mind Hive” is almost the opposite. You’re not re-entering the Earth’s atmosphere – you’re leaving it. Carson’s guitar sounds like jet engines at multiple points in the song while Skloss’ echoing vocals are the thoughts in your mind sliding out and being left behind on the ground as your brain opens to the stars. On “Imagine 100 Dads,” Skloss puts lyrics aside for vocal sounds to create a hypnotic feel that leans the “cover image debate” toward the “It’s light emerging, not falling, from the void.” side…until the second half when Carson’s riffs are so big that they feel like they’re causing sinkholes under your house.
“Dead Bone” is your new favorite stoner / doom instrumental cut and might be the one that makes you think, “How is this just two people?” the most. “Snorkels Ask” mixes the sound of buzzing cicadas with angry hornet guitars. “Upper Attic” is just as fuzzy and suitable for a haunted house run by the ghosts of a metal band killed in a freak accident on Halloween. “Plugged into Jupiter” has us drifting around the giant planet, unsure if we’ll be able to escape its gravitational (guitar-induced) pull or if we’d be better off just hanging out for a while or maybe cruise along the surface of one of its moons.
Wrapping up with the heavy and haunting “Ghosts Are Entertaining” ends the album with another double-meaning. Are the ghosts entertaining guests, or are ghosts fun to watch in general? If it’s the former, then the sonic assault of the song makes you think that the ghosts are having a great time, but their guests might be terrified. If it’s the latter, then the fuzzy roar and cymbal crashes make us imagine we’re all thinking, “This is pretty damn cool.” while standing in the foyer of a haunted house as the ghosts rock out on a drum kit made of tombstones and a guitar made out of a cemetery gate.
So, what is the pattern? What is it telling us? Are we falling into a void or emerging from one? I’m still not sure. Skloss are able to pull us into the gravity well or slingshot us around the sun with equal skill. That might be the pattern: Two people, two instruments, two opposite yet equal forces creating one powerful record.
Remember the E.F. Hutton commercials of the 1970s and 1980s? Their slogan was, “When E.F. Hutton speaks, people listen.” When The Pattern Speaks, people transform.
Take piano from cool jazz cat Joe Alterman and mix it with beats, bass, samples, and loops from Mocean Worker in a tribute to a late jazz and soul legend, Les McCann, and you get a downright groovy record – Keep the Line Open.
Starting with McCann’s high-pitched, hysterical laugh on “I Love It!, I Love It!, I Love It!,” Alterman (who counted McCann as a mentor and friend) and Worker have a blast right away, zipping along city streets (Are those traffic and train samples I hear?) with the windows down and at least three pretty ladies in the back seat. Worker’s bass line on “Yay Yay Yay” is designed to make you strut, and Alterman’s piano is designed to make you dress sharp for the evening.
On “Burnin’ Coal,” McCann tells a story of how he paid an announcer fifty bucks to introduce him with grandeur at an early gig in California, and then Alterman and Worker slide into a sweet groove complete with samples of ladies cheering, clapping, and stomping in the background. “Never have I seen a tuning fork ever,” says McCann as he talks with Alterman on learning how to play on and out of tune piano. “I never knew the difference,” he says, and then “Gimme Some Skin” breaks open with one of the happiest grooves on the record (and that’s saying a lot, considering the whole album is a happy delight) as Alterman rips on his electric piano.
“Circus Going Backwards” is a smoky, mysterious number. How can it not be with a title like that? “Get This to the People” could’ve been a hip hop jam in the golden era of 1990s rap (and still could be – someone needs to get on this). “Moses Gonzales” is so smooth that you could roll marbles across it in a straight line. “Lemme Tell You Somethin'” thumps and bumps in all the right spots.
The album closes with “Wouldn’t It Be Loverly / Les Has the Last Word” (as he should) – a great track of simple honkytonk piano from Alterman and a recording of McCann encouraging him (and us) to continue learning and growing.
Congratulations. You just found one of your new favorite punk bands.
Hailing from Astoria, Oregon, Beta Voids have unleashed (a far better description than “released”) their debut EP, Scrape It Off, and given us a much-needed adrenaline shot and kick in the ass.
The first thing you notice about them on the opening track, “Nothing to Me,” is the great interplay between the two lead vocalists – Carrie Beveridge and Mandy Grant. They sing / yell / chant about stuff that you can care about, but they really don’t give a damn. Next you notice Alpha Rasmussen‘s wild, frenetic saxophone running around the studio and your speakers.
On “Meat Head Look” (a song, I think, about guys trying and failing to impress women), you notice Mike Vasquez‘s thudding bass that somehow is able to lock in all this chaos happening across the whole EP and give it free reign at the same time. “Palpitations” roars like Bleach-era Nirvana (thanks much to Dan McClure‘s buzzsaw guitar) if Nirvana dove further down the post-punk rabbit hole instead of the metal one in their early days.
“Alan” is a twenty-three-second tribute to famous people with that name. That’s it. That’s all you need to know, really. “Brain Malfunction” is as bonkers as its title. “Baby’s in Detox” is even crazier and seems to be about being sad about being sober.
The closer, “M-O-T-H-E-R,” is a solid rock track, reminding me of The Stooges and grounded by Seth Howard‘s straight-up garage rock beats. Ms. Beveridge and Ms. Grant either pay tribute to or complain about their moms. I’m not sure. It works either way.
The whole thing works. Beta Voids are here to stomp down doors and on faces. Get in the pit or get out of the way.
I scored Here Came the Psychedelic Furs: B-sides & Lost Grooves at a wrecka stow in Arizona last month. I had no idea this collection existed until I stumbled across it for a mere seven dollars in a used CD bin. The Furs have become one of my favorite bands in the last decade, although I have been enjoying them since I practically wore out their Talk Talk Talk album on cassette back in 1981. I missed a lot of their catalogue because most of it wasn’t available where I grew up. MTV, when it still played music videos, kept me up to date on their newest singles, but that was it.
As a result, this collection has allowed to me hear a lot of great stuff that I didn’t know existed. It starts off with a loud, gritty dance mix version of “Aeroplane” that’s over five minutes long, was produced by Todd Rundgren, and was the B-side of the “Love My Way” 12″ single from 1982.
“Another Edge” (the B-side of the “Here Come Cowboys” single from 1984) is pretty much a krautrock track with Tim Butler adding some great slap bass to the electro-beats and flashy horn section. “Badman” (taken from a promo-only 12″ release of 1989’s “Should God Forget”) has that cool psych-saxophone / spooky bass / cracking drums / drone guitar mix that only the Psychedelic Furs seem to pull off without effort.
“Birdland” is the B-side of the “All That Money Wants” single from 1988, and is a slick, dark bit of shoegaze. Up next is another five-minute-plus, Rundgren-produced dance mix from the 1982 “Love My Way” 12″ single – “Goodbye.” Richard Butler‘s vocals and lyrics are in fine form as he growls about the proliferation of apathy (“Yesterday’s news is today’s news…You don’t remember, you forget, that’s the way the stories all go…I’ll see you all around sometime if I ever go back there.”) and, at the same time, finding strength in leaving negativity.
Speaking of “Love My Way” B-sides, “I Don’t Want to Be Your Shadow” was on the flip side of the 7″ version of that single. It’s has a cool, pulsing beat and a surprising bit of guitar shredding. The 7″ remix of “Heartbeat” from 1984 originally appeared on the B-side of “The Ghost in You” single. It’s another track full of Richard Butler’s bass groove, this time churning out disco funk along with the guitars, and frantic saxophone blasts.
A cover of “Mack the Knife” (the B-side to the “Angels Don’t Cry” single from 1987) is a fun inclusion, barely recognizable, and a dark, broody version that turns the title character into someone probably found more in dark basement clubs than swanky jazz affairs. “New Dream” (taken from the 1987 “Heartbreak Beat” 12″ single) is a slick blend of 1980s city pop, shoegaze, psychedelia, and a goth of goth. It reminds me of some of The The‘s work from the same era. The guitar solo on it from John Ashton is especially good. Mars Williams was also on saxophone by this point, and you can hear how much he elevates the band right away.
The 12″ remix-edit version of “Here Come Cowboys” from 1984 is another fine example of Richard Butler’s vocals and lyrics, this time taking a jab at masculine stereotypes (“It’s so hard at times to take it serious. It really gets to be a drag when all we really need is love. Here comes cowboys, here to save us all.”). You can practically feel Butler sighing as his eyes roll upwards at the idea of angry dudes screwing things up yet again.
The extended 12″ mix (over eight minutes!) of 1987’s classic “Heartbreak Beat” is top-notch. The 7″ remix of “Angels Don’t Cry” from the same year is a picturesque love song that borders on pop-alternative, another type of song the Furs do well while other shoegaze bands chose to cover their feelings on love with walls of sound (which isn’t a bad thing, by any means, and can be quite effective and evocative). Want another remix from 1987? How about Shep Pettibone‘s 12″ remix of “Shock?” It turns the track into a nightclub hit with bright vocals, saxophone, and synths but never losing it’s rock edge.
The last two tracks are live cuts. The first is a recording of “President Gas” (a song that, unfortunately, never goes out of style) on The King Biscuit Flower Hour from 1983 and was on the B-side of the “Run and Run” single. The second is “No Easy Street” and was only released on maxi-cassette (Remember those? They were cassettes that featured one song per side.) in 1988. Both are sharp recordings. “President Gas” is fuzzy and growling, while “No Easy Street” is haunting stuff that borders on dark wave at some points.
This collection is well worth tracking down if you can find it, and it begs for the Furs to release a large retrospective. There has to be a vault of live cuts, demos, and other rarities somewhere on top of their already impressive catalogue.
Hailing from Lyon, France, Désordre (Disorder) bring their three-song instrumental EP, L’Échappée Belle (The Great / Beautiful Escape – depending on how you choose to translate it) that’s indeed an escape from whatever reality you’re in now.
“Chèvre Bleue” (“Blue Goat”) is a cool track that builds from desert rock mellow riffs to heavy space rock lift-offs, and then back to desert rock, but this time you’re racing across the desert on horseback and instead of taking a slow ride on a camel.
“Ordalie” (“Ordeal”) stomps the gas pedal and cranks the volume, giving you the energy to power through whatever trial or tribulation you might be experiencing. It will make you feel like you’re in an action film at times, and like you’re meditating on a mountain at others.
“Débordé” (“Overwhelmed”) does this balancing act just as well, deftly moving back and forth between stoner rock power and psych-rock mind trips. It can indeed feel overwhelming at times, but Désordre know when to pull back and let you get a breath before they toss you into orbit again.
It’s a solid EP that bodes well for a future full-length LP from them. It feels like a pre-launch sequence to an interstellar mission.
French psych-rock / yé-yé enthusiasts The Limiñanas have returned with a new album, Faded, that includes an impressive lineup of friends helping them pay tribute to many forgotten (faded) film stars of a bygone era.
The opening track, “Spirale,” brings you back to smoky, sexy 1960s French nightclubs with simple, elegant piano tones and guitar fuzz. They team up with Primal Scream‘s Bobby Gillespie on “Prisoner of Beauty,” in which Gillespie sings about women being thrilled with the exotic worlds of modeling and film and later feeling trapped there as time takes its toll. Their team up with French actor / musician / composer Bertrand Belin on “J’adore le Monde” (“I Love the World.”) is a gritty, groovy rocker, as is “Shout” featuring another Frenchman, Rover. “Shout” moves back and forth between trippy verses and a sharp call-and-response chorus while Lionel Limiñana uses his guitar to create a weird atmosphere around you.
Penny joins the band on the title track, and her lovely vocals evoke memories of long-gone girl groups and classic country singers. Anna Jean‘s breathy vocals on “Catherine” will leave you wondering, “Catherine who?” and “Where can I find these women?” You can tell there’s a fascinating story here.
“The Dancer” is an instrumental tribute to Lionel and MarieLimiñana‘s friend frequent video collaborator Foulquesde Boixo, known as “The Dancer” or “The Dancing Man” in so many of The Limiñanas’ music videos. Appropriately, it has a great beat from Marie that will have you dancing with de Boixo in spirit.
“Space Baby” is one of two collaborations with Jon Spencer and Pascal Comelade on the album and it has Spencer singing about a woman who’s so far out of his reach she might as well be in space. “Tu Viens, Marie?” (“Are You Coming, Marie?”) can be taken a few different ways. Does it refer to Marie Limiñana herself? That’s a good guess, as the vocals are back and forth between her and Lionel. Does it refer to a journey or something, ahem, else? I like the mystery of it, so I’ll leave it as such.
Their cover of “Louie Louie” is the type of cover only they could pull off, as they turn the weird garage rock classic into a whispered, yet loud, psychedelic freakout. The couple give us a tour of their house, and the stuff from all over the world throughout it, on “Autour de Chez Moi” (“Around My House”). Again, it seems like only they could perform a song like this, turning a walk-through of their place almost into a meditative mantra.
Mr. Spencer and Mr. Comelade return on “Degenerate Star” with Spencer singing about forgotten fame and how fast one can fall from the public eye when the next big thing appears (“All I’ve got is this picture, and your smell. Where did you go?…I was a star, the biggest, brightest star. Don’t you remember? Have you forgotten everything?”).
The album ends with their cover of Françoise Hardy‘s “Ou Va la Chance?” (“Where Does the Luck Go?”). Hardy was a yé-yé icon in the 1960s, who, like de Boixo, died in recent years. She often sang about heartbreak and missed opportunities for love, and the album fading out with a song written by her is a perfect way to end a record about fading stardom.
Faded is a lovely and groovy record that assures us that the Limiñanas aren’t fading just yet and that those who came before them will stay with us a while longer.
