Endless Boogie on a School Night

For starters, I should not have gone to this. On a schools night, after two plastic buckets of overpriced Budweiser at the sweaty and solid Arctic Monkey's show (journalistic hardship), but it's hard to turn down a Psychedelic Horseshit show, especially when they're opening for Endless Boogie at the last minute. Not sure when PHS will get their sea legs back and get off the house music -- love it, but after hearing Too Many Hits for the very first time I prefer a rambling band behind the brother. I was already a bit blotto anyways, so it didn't make much difference. Those infective blips are worth any lost sleep.

BUT....it was the nonchalant mosey to the stage made by Endless Boogie that proved the night's worth. Nicely (scantily) attended for a Monday night in Columbus, I only lasted through the first two 15 plus minute openers before submission -- a 70 MPH date with 71-N. I decided not to research too much into what is exactly going on live with these guys. They are Matador affiliated, record obsessives with a sweet tooth for kobe beef. The magic is in the magic man, the axe in the front, who reminded me of any of the guitar gods scribbled on the trading cards that come with the Galactic Zoo Dossier. I'd rather remain ignorant to anything the man has done before -- hopefully some forgotten blues-psych metal LPs will be re-issued when the time is ripe. Oh wait, there are three perfectly groovy Endless Boogies records to keep me occupied into my '50s. And two of them, the first two, priceless artifacts well worth tracking down. I can't be sure but I think they led off with my favorite "Stanton Karma," though after a while it all blends into one-mammoth solo that never breaks for conformity or uh...squareness. I need to make it out on more school nights.

Live through this:


Dominique Young Unique Indeed

Let’s list ‘em – a half-decade list of female “of this moment” lightning bolts in bottles – Rye Rye, Lil’ Mama, Lil’ Sister, Yo Majesty, Amanda Blank, Santigold. All have achieved at least an ephemeral minute of notoriety, but only an artist like M.I.A. has really taken it to the finish line or at least close for now. Not sure if it just starts of so white hot, that the burn-out is immediate – hip-hop sparklers? Not so much letdowns, they just haven’t followed through. So then, another? Sure, Dominique Young Unique is wilder. The Tampa- native, Yo Majesty-affiliated, seventeen year- old just won Florida’s artist of the year. This is not surprising as her debut platter “Music Time” is wilder than anything I spoke of previously. Of course, as stated, it’s much too early to predict or even hope, but so far these hyper-booty-dub-sides by way of Danny Elfman pinball is enough to make me let loose. Let loose.


Ashes Grammar Laboratory Test

A Sunny Day in Glasgow’s Ashes Grammar is my first specimen for the “lab test.” Gushing over it a few weeks ago, I have to give it a second time around to assure myself the album has a safe secure spot on the year end list. Confirmed.

Vaporous colours trapped in a sphere of iced glass. In that headspace melodies stream in and out of consciousness, somewhere in the distance a band is playing, but even with binoculars their visage appears out of focus, ghostly, transparent. Wisps of whimsical genius – “Failure,” “The White Witch,” that finale – they never really cement, bringing about an amorphous atmosphere, reminding me fondly of the Swirlies. They’re a band I discovered at Second Time Around on Brown St. in the three dollar bin. That Boston band created a similar shoegaze intoxicant. Blonder Tongue Audio Baton is at the other end of the spectrum though – thick, abstract, abject, slippery psych-sludge. No need to really re-evaluate both. Get Ashes Grammar, Find Swirlies (it’s all pretty good).

Below -- 120 Minutes standard video for the Swirlies "Bell" -- Sunny Day should be making film like this.


Today is Times New Viking Day (Equinox)

YES. It's been ringing in my ears for the entirety of the summer, but today, you can, and should, walk into a physical record store and buy a physical copy (preferably vinyl)of Times New Viking's fourth and decidedly darkest record to date, Born Again Revisited. I highly recommend it, though I'm the slightest bit biased. Fuck your blog.

And in the spirit, we did an Agit-Feature on them.

Below, the video for "No Time, No Hope"

They'll be back in town Oct. 14th at the Summit. Take the next day off work.


More on the Clean...

In conjunction with the Agit-Reader's excellent feature with the Clean, I decided to go scouring for the old snuff on the band. Above, a nice primer, and below the story of Flying Nun, which may or may not have survived without the Clean. Regardless of your opinions towards Mister Pop - I happen to love the slow-burn melodies intertwined in each bit of psychedelic-lite they make -- these clips are necessary viewing.


Os Mutantes Coming to a (American) City Near You

Though, in my own mind, I've become somewhat of an expert of Tropicalia, and would likely talk your ear off for an hour or two if you asked for some recommended albums from the era -- I couldn't likely pull myself away from what made me all in love with the genre -- and that would be Os Mutantes. I was completely nonplussed with their first announced reunion at a Pitchfork festival way back when, but decided to give them another chance this second time around -- since, at least Sergio Dias Baptista, was considering recording a new album. Well, Haih or Amortecedor has finally seen the light of day, and though reviews have been somewhat mixed, and I think that's due to ears not being hip to what's currently popular in Brazilian sound, I'm loving the variety, the diversion to our perceived "weird" underground and ethno-tastes, I'm thinking, though it's not up there with the top 3 Mutantes records, it's certainly better than the output they were outputting whilst falling apart in the '70s.

Still, nothing can match those magical moments in the late '60s.


Polvo's In Prism is That Good

If you read here regularly, you might notice I'm in a constant struggle with my teenage love for Polvo. I've often thought their music might not make it in a modern world, but I'm here to say that, yes, each and everything they did has aged well. Judging from my interview with Dave, guitarist from Polvo, the men of the band have, themselves, as well too. Now, a month or so after the release of In Prism, their 12 year comeback record, I can easily commit to adding the album to any subsequent year-end list. This is especially true when it is listened to on the thick vinyl issue of this behemoth. Each song sounds like craft-work, as if each song has been poured over and loved since they day Polvo threw in the towel back in '98. It's rare that a group, who seemed permanently cased in amber back then, can re-e-Merge and sonically compete - and nearly ravage -- any of their contemporaries who currently ape their "sound" and/or peers who angled and shone right beside them back in those days.

I say -- let the Polvo renaissance begin. We'll start with their humble beginnings. Keep in mind I didn't say their '90s video output aged well. Pure 120 Minutes mis-e-scene here.


Casual Vikings Blog

Yeah. It happened. I don't care about the opinion of the public, or the locker room for that matter, on the return/disappearance/return of Brett Favre. Everyone knows this is the right fit for my Vikings and everyone knows they're going to win a lot of games this year -- even if he sits some of those games out. Look. I'm over it and Brett Favre has been my most hated player in the NFL since he started wearing a Green Bay uniform. But I'm accepting, especially if my team is winning. Mike Vick I might have a problem with -- but Favre? Get ready AFC North.

I'm just posting this to warn you that World of Wumme may in fact become a "casual Vikings blog" for the remainder of the season. I've also decided to root for the Bengals. Go figure.