Thanks to the conspirators of the Autistic Theater the public is now well equipped with a treasure trove of booty from “the slump” that occurred in Columbus. While it’s nice to hear the evolution of AS/US, it’s even better to hear that group’s primordial roots. I’m speaking of MY UNCLE WAYNE. In my experience as a “slump” explorer, these three men could usually do no wrong -- through they’d sit on stage constantly wronging the world around them. Anyone who had the pleasure/brain damage getting close and intimate at those turn-of-the-century Bernie’s soirees might know what I’m talking about – rarely in tune, forcibly out of tune, in continual catch-up with their own rhythms, missing strings, rambling fuck-outs, rolling eyelids, quarter-consciousness, beer and whisky rivers, drug swamps. Were they the Butthole Surfers as prodigious math-rockers, or, Polvo as wasted cretins? Each set lasted just long enough to get irritated, but eagerly awaiting what would happen the next time they stumbled onto that dank basement stage.
And back to the Autistic Theater, where currently you can procure a copy of the group’s shining moment (previously released anyways, excited to finally hear the other stuff), the Beat Hits 7” on Seldom Scene (Bim Thomas’ short-lived label, and here the Bassholes/This Moment skinsman plays drums). After listening to this you may want to ignore my descriptors, then again you’d need to see them live to get that particular not-so-fresh feeling, on Beat Hits though they’re firing on all cylinders like a resurrected war machine from the Soviet era. Serious blasted – almost disintegrating all the pigfuck and trash-punk pioneers that lay track before them (see Monster Truck 5) in the fleeting first minutes of the “Vulture of Yr Culture” and “Pilgrum Soul” one-two swing. Giving those songs an angular snarl without too much angle, a metal edge without jaking-on like Karp, and the Sonic Youth seal of distortion with nary an ounce of pretension and pose. “All I See is Chrome” fits that model again, with much more muscle and instrumental possibilities. A solid winner from front to back. I’m sure you can find some “real” copies if you look hard enough.
Those looking for the twisted Truman’s Water-esque version of the band, urge them to upload the impossible-to-find Delusions of Grandure 7” – proving they have heart. Then again I want to hear the work they did with Rep and Jim Shepard right towards the end. And why was there an end? The world shall never know.