SORRY FOr RECENT LACK OF UPDATE ACTION.

HERE'S A ROUND-UP OF SOME COMPILATIONS I'VE BEEN LISTENING TO RECENTLY:


Gimee Skelter (Buddyhead)

A handsomely assembled compilation in which Aaron North and Travis Keller of the Buddyhead website and record label put together music by a lot of bands they like - namely an unwholesome selection of contemporary American guitar-slingers, plus token Old English Dudes Primal Scream and Wire.
Things couldn’t kick off much better than with curator / spiritual godfather Iggy Pop delivering a hilarious diatribe against Moby (“..that fatuous bastard!”), before Mudhoney give us the gleefully salacious ‘Hard-On for War’ (“It is our patriotic duty / to make sweet love tonight”) and the Yeah Yeah Yeahs do their trademark 90 second lo-fi shred attack. Other highlights include Burning Brides and Dead Meadow drawing us into a gnarly narcotic haze and Primal Scream almost making up for their frequent shitness by letting Kevin Shields off the leash on a blazing live version of ‘Shoot Speed/ Kill Light’. Le Tigre contribute ‘Mediocrity Rules’, one of their punkiest and therefore best tracks (I would have thought all the casual sexist / homophobic banter on the Buddyhead website might have made them reluctant to take part… obviously not, thankfully for us listeners) and the gender ratio is helped out further by all-girl new wave revivalist types Radio Vago. Your attention is also drawn to a cheery tune from the terrific Beehive & the Barracudas, and a fucking great track from the much underrated Your Enemies Friends. Proceedings conclude with a taped interview with Iggy, who amiably chews the fat about cocks and obscure ‘60s Detroit bands with an over-excitable DJ. Add some typically spot-on Raymond Pettibon artwork and a most satisfactory compilation is achieved.
In many ways of course, the Buddyhead gang’s belligerent outsider rhetoric is a complete con. They may declare that “Corporate rock sucks cock”, but about half the bands represented here are signed to major labels, and the likes of Weezer and Cave-in are hardly likely to blow anybody’s mind. It’s all good hedonistic fun though, and hey, maybe we should be glad that big corporations are throwing money at some of these shifty fuckers – they’re sure to waste it all on noisy, impenetrable albums, sell no records and get dropped. Fun for all the family.

The Psychedelic Experience Volumes 1&2 (Subliminal Records)

A fairly recent collection of terminally obscure American ‘60s psyche sides which have somehow been ignored by the countless previous compilations and bootlegs in the post-Nuggets universe, coming at us from Stockholm based label Subliminal. Some awesome death goddess cover artwork and thoroughly entertaining sleevenotes bode well, but the immediate drawback here is the sound quality – in stark contrast to the amazing remastering jobs on the Nuggets and Pebbles collections, these tunes have been ripped straight from dusty 35 year old mono 45s with no enhancement or cleaning up at all, and it shows. Obviously fans of stuff like this will easily be able to overcome the murky sound, and if nothing else it helps to add a certain cultish mystique to sound of a bunch of San Bernedino dropouts banging around trying to sound like the Doors, but still – an advance warning on the packaging would have been appreciated. If I’d bought this for full price I’d have been pissed.
Nevertheless though, the general quality of the music here is great. The compilers’ decision to concentrate exclusively on the more druggy/deranged end of the garage spectrum yields up some total gems of freakery. The unpromisingly named Dirty Filthy Mud give us ‘Forest of Black’, an utterly mindbending 1967 excursion into dimensions of alien sound which have rarely been heard before or since. Combined with a haunting melodic vocal and some serious freakbeat drumming, it’s a classic of the “what the hell were these guys ON??” variety. ‘I’m Not What You Are’ by Jason Merrick & the Finders sees the startlingly angry Mr. Merrick ranting incoherently about ‘pure bourgeois’ posers over a rough n’ ready garage backbeat – an unlikely precursor of The Fall? The Fantastic Zoo’s ‘Light Show’ meanwhile stinks so strongly of Hollywood hippy kitsch you expect Peter Fonda to come reeling round the corner looking for a groovy trip. And, well, I could go on…
Inexperienced psychedelic adventurers are directed straight to the Nuggets box set to get the basics on one of the consistently bizarre and joyous subcultures in pop history, but for greedy aficionados this disc will provide a good few days lysergic feasting.

A Soldier’s Sad Story: Vietnam through the eyes of black America 1966 – 72 (Ace Records)

The number of soul cuts dealing directly with the Vietnam War puts supposedly more radical white musicians to shame, and this excellent collection, much championed by John Peel shortly before his sad passing, does exactly what it says on the tin. Quality is top-notch throughout with some of the cream of sixties black talent represented. The tracks are arranged in roughly chronological order to suggest a journey through the typical black soldier’s experience, with relatively upbeat tunes such as ‘Marchin’ off the War’ (William Bell) and ‘He’ll be Back’ (the Players), both from 1966, slowly giving way to the more uncompromising likes of ‘Bring the Boys Home’ (Freda Payne) and ‘Stop the War Now’ (Edwin Starr) in the early ‘70s, culminating in Swamp Dogg’s rendition of John Prine’s devastating protest song ‘Sam Stone’.
Hearing the previously limited range of soul music subject matter expand to include foxholes, gun battles and lost limbs is chilling, adding a whole new layer of urgency and yearning to the more traditional love songs, as “I’ll see you tonight baby” is replaced with “I’ll see you in three or four years baby”, or indeed “Viet Cong everywhere I look now baby!” (courtesy of Johnny & Jon on ‘Christmas in Vietnam’), and the artists here manage to address the difficult political and social issues at stake with the same hard-hitting purity they give to songs of romance and redemption.
Highlights aren’t hard to find. The Monitors ‘Greetings (This is Uncle Sam)’, featuring great drill sergeant backing vocals, poignantly captures the feelings of a carefree young man who wakes up one morning to find he’s in the army. Mike Williams' ‘Lonely Soldier’ is absolutely stunning – a foreboding and questioning song, beautiful and universal enough to make anybody sit up and pay attention. In the ridiculously bombastic ‘I Believe I’m Gonna Make It’, Joe Tex introduces us to the rather disturbing notion that thinking about his girlfriend makes him want to “get up and cut down two more enemies!”. Gloria Edwards presents us with a despairing vision of her man finding happiness in the arms of “some slant-eyed woman” in the bleak ‘Something you Couldn’t Write About’, and Carla Whitney’s ‘War’ is a great hard-driving slice of politicised funk.
I’ll resist the obvious comment about these songs being more relevant now than ever before, and simply say that to call this album ‘essential’ is an understatement.

(I used that same line about the Rough trade Country comp a few posts back didn't I? Well never mind, it's still true. well-chosen compilations are where it's at.)