To Whichever BBQ Bro It May Concern,

Hey everybody! What’s good? Not much here. Just getting ready to fuck up a can of Campbell’s Chunky for lunch. Should rule.

Welp… heard you all got in a lil’ pickle outside of Nashville in Hopkinsville, Ky. Got nailed for having a lil’ “controlled substance” for party hard solutions. That’s a bummer, man. It’s kinda like the song “Rollin’ Dirty” with the Bone Thug bros. I probably would’ve been humming that to myself if I were in a similar situation. Anyway, good to hear you’re out of the slammer. Hope you followed protocol and bitched up to someone. I’ve not been incarcerated myself, but it’s my understanding that doing such is just good standard operating procedure. When in Rome, amirite?

Alright, let’s get to brass tacks. I read in a recent interview with Sam Hunt, your booking agent with Windish (who’s a super great guy who helped us secure a lot of awesome shows for WRFL when I hung tough there – tell him we said hello), who gave the local reporter in Hopkinsville a couple of preliminary ruminations from the band: “I’d kind of be surprised if they played again,” Hunt said. “It’s been a real drag, you know? It’s been a real shame for a lot of reasons. They’ll probably never set foot in Kentucky again.”

Ever play again? What, are you guys that wimpy? That shit’s sad, Khan. Lil’ Wayne’s getting his ass arrested all the time, but he still seems to release 500 mixtapes a year and rock a House of Blues or two. I mean, you’re following in a fine tradition of rock stars sporting the fluorescent jumpsuit – check out Rolling Stone’s Hall of Fame. Work this to your advantage. All press is good press, guys. That’s PR 101.

Secondly – “never set foot in Kentucky again”? Dude, that’s some Laguna Beach shit. Like, “She tried to hook up with Stephen, I’m never talking to that bitch again.” What’s with the pedestrian playground mentality? You guys are Pitchfork fodder with a deece record contract. Time to put on the big boy pants now.

Look… unfortunately, there’s no room in this letter to discuss the nature of the war on drugs. Sure, it totally sucks you all were arrested and jailed for a non-violent crime and drug laws in the states are kinda fucked. But the fact of the matter is, right or wrong, the law is the law, and drugs are crazy illegal (see your local statute book and The Wire). So if you’re going to do something illegal, don’t get caught. If you have drugs in the car, it should go without saying that you roll careful style. And if you don’t successfully evade Johnny Law, displacing blame for getting caught with your own stash (that you’re fully aware is not legal) is kinda immature and makes you sorta look like an asshole. Just sayin’.

I understand that you weren’t pulled over for speeding or the like, but were stopped at a random safety checkpoint. Regardless, an officer cannot search your vehicle (”illegal search and seizure” in legalese) in any case without either probable cause or your consent.

The band’s official statement said “officers located a controlled substance in the cab of the vehicle.” That begs the question – how did the officers locate your shroomage? Did you allow them to search your van?  Or did you have your paraphernalia all strewn about the vehicle, providing plain sight probable cause? If it’s the former, what the hell? I have nothing else to say to you. If it’s the latter… dude, hide your shit. Especially at checkpoints! It didn’t exactly sneak up on you, ya know! The majority of the Interstate system is comprised of long stretches of completely straight asphalt, as per the original Eisenhower plan. Especially in places like western Kentucky where it’s flat!

The only other scenario I can picture is that manager Kristin Klein’s expired or suspended license warranted the search. Maybe someone who had a driver license should’ve been behind the wheel. Again, good job.

So, like, all things considered, responding to your own ineptitude by saying “fuck this state, we’re never coming here again” is rather asinine, don’t you think? Saving face and manning up is a good style. Just somethin’ to chew on. If you do decide to tour these parts again though, The Decibel Tolls will be more than happy to sponsor it. Shit, I’ll even give you some pointers and show you how I hide my own stash and keep my mouth shut.

Best,
Kenny Bloggins

MP3 :::
Times New Viking – City on Drugs
The Rain Parade – Prisoners
Ariel Pink – House Arrest
Mazzy Star – Free

In what seems to be a suite of albums that namedrop the jams that Anton Newcombe loves (with the first being 2007’s My Bloody Underground), the Brian Jonestown Massacre is set to drop Who Killed Sgt. Pepper on New Year’s Day. And since Newcome is. always. on. fucking. MySpace. showing. us. the. dinner. he’s. cooking. and. other. random. and. often. stupid. shit., the tracklisting was made available for a brief time before it was retracted. Probably after a phone call from the manager. Be it as it may.

1. Tempo 116.7 (Reaching For Dangerous Levels Of Sobriety)
2. The Heavy Knife
3. Lets Go Fucking Mental (Melodica Mix)
4. White Music
5. This Is The First Of Your Last Warnings (Icelandic Version)
6. This Is The One Thing We Did Not Want To Have Happen
7. The One
8. Someplace Else Unknown
9. Detka! Detka! Detka!
10. Super Fucked
11. Our Time
12. Feel It (Of Course We Fucking Do)
13. Felt Tipped-Pen Pictures Of UFOs

Before the full length drops though, the BJM will release a new teaser EP that comes out next week called One EP. You can czech it courtesy of Cargo Records. Looking forward to hearing that, for sure. However, I currently have no predictions on whether Who Killed Sgt. Pepper will rule or not. This is the best of the streaming tracks I’ve listened to thus far, and I like it quite a bit. But some of the other tracks I’ve heard sound abysmal, and some were pretty decent. I dunno, what do you think? I’m certainly hoping for the best myself. I’m on your team, Anton.

POSSIBLY RELEVANT :::
The Brian Jonestown Massacre vs. The Decibel Tolls

Black Rebel Motorcycle Club is known for two things: 1) being called “hippies” by Brian Jonestown’s Joel Gion in Dig, and 2) very strong live shows. So considering the latter, it’s fitting the group is set to drop a 2 DVD and CD live package, poignantly titled Live. The package spans a number of European shows on their Baby 81 tour. The jam hive hits shelves next Tuesday, November 10th. Wanna win a copy? Cool… well I have two to give away.

Just shoot an email over to kb@thedecibeltolls.com and tell me what you’d like to see more of on the blog. We’ve had a lot of discussions on how to better serve you, the smarmy blog reader. This way, we get something, and you get something awesome. Contest closes on Friday at 5 p.m.

You can peep the track listing and pre-order info here. Good luck.

MP3 :::
Black Rebel Motorcycle Club – Spread Your Love [Live]

Strangers Family Band offers a fine pastiche of the various splinter genres of flower power much like The Brian Jonestown Massacre’s finer catalog (czech “Wooden Hands” and hear how the vocal interplay is almost dead-on Anton Newcombe and Mara Kegal via Their Satanic Majesties’ Second Request). However, also like the BJM, Strangers Family Band do not amalgamate old sounds with new. They are unquestionably channeling the various strata of late ’60s mindbending west coast pop art experimental jangle – light garage rock timbre, pinch of British blues a la John Mayall, and homage to Ravi Shankar that became nothing but en vogue in the post-druggy Beatles summer of love. With that said, they take full advantage of recording technology today to really sharpen the feel and sound of classic true-blue psychedelia to cultivate a truly polyphonic headtrip. Nowhere is that more apparent than the seven minute “Transmission,” bolstered by crisp Twin Reverb distortion, lots of sitar (real sitar, not effect-created), and dark, thick Rhodes organ, punchy tablas – all of which almost play second fiddle to the distant, dark, saturated vocals.

I understand that, as either Kickergaard or Dick Van Patten said, to label me is to negate me. So I’ll stop the labeling and comparisons and let you all just peep the group. However, and this is the last thing I’ll say about Strangers vs. Jonestown – they also adopted the excellent “give your shit away from free and worry about sustainability later” model that Anton discovered when he started digging on the Interwebs. And it’s a great idea. Get your stuff out there, and if it’s good (which it is), people will come to the show and buy your merch. So to that end, czech the MySpazz, have a look at their dates, and see them live. Admire their sitar. Get lifted.

For fans of:  The Brian Jonestown Massacre, Outrageous Cherry, The Yardbirds, 13th Floor Elevators, The Black Angels

MP3 :::
Strangers Family Band – Strange Transmission

There’s something about the former Axis powers post-WWII that developed some of the strangest, most visionary, and most divergent music some three decades afterward. Both Germany and Japan were largely responsible for the music of the 70s and 80s that came out of nowhere and sounded like absolutely nothing else – everything from Kraftwerk to Merzbow. All of it is still as important and relevant today (perhaps even more so).

De Stijl Records dusts off and uncovers one such group out of late 70s/early 80s Hanover — 39 Clocks. While their timeline coincides with New York’s no wave movement, their Deutsche no wave is something else entirely. Amalgamating the dadaist cool and nervous energy of Suicide, their homeland’s motorik rhythm, the loud and detuned psychedelics of Spacemen 3 (whom 39 Clocks actually predate), the organ-as-diving-rod experimental pop ethos of Silver Apples, and a Nuggets-ready proto-punk punch, the mensch of 39 Clocks chew up kraut and psychedelic subsets and spit them out into a ball of drug-riddled prophecy and rock and roll shenanigans.

And like Suicide, who may still remain most infamous for the riot they provoked during 43 Minutes Over Brussels, 39 Clocks also enjoyed stirring trouble and inconvenience. De Stijl writes: “The first public appearance pairing Christian Henjes and Juergen Gleue was in 1976, at the Dada Nova (a space occupied by Otto Mühl’s AAO commune) in midtown Hannover, Germany. Dada Nova would be a space of enduring clash. From the subtlety of a shat upon organ to the ejection from communal meetings by bodily force, the AAO would display that the presence of the 39 Clocks was one of their constant grief. Known for pranksterism and the destruction of the clubs in which they would perform, friction in every form would continually follow the band. They created an outrage (they wrote a tune with the title “Art Minus Idiots”) at the Filmtage Hannover with their avant-garde Super 8 movies made under the disguise of director Zachius Lipschitz. Rumour claims that at a Hannover show at the Cafe Glocksee, they played the vacuum cleaner and a circular saw instead of guitars, and there was even a knife throwing incident in Bremen.” It’s hard to say whether 39 Clocks were going for legnedary status or if they just didn’t give a shit, but at least they wear their sense of humor on their sleeves. What, with song titles such as “Shake the Hippie” and “You Can’t Count the Bombs (It’s Zero),” you’d kinda have to be funny.

Antics aside, the 18 tracks on Zoned, an anthology of various releases between 1981 and 1987, are solid and, in my eyes, a total achievement. 39 Clocks perfected a no wave style sound they were far removed from while developing an original reiterpretation of ’60s garage rock and created a facet of neo psych rock that was about a decade ahead of its English counterpart in the shoegaze and Jason Pierce circles. But their cheif export is pure aural insanity. This is too fresh to be 23-30 years old. De Stijl really found a gem with 39 Clocks, and the remastered Zoned is a must have for any fan of mind expanding music.

Zoned is available now from De Stijl.

For fans of:  Spacemen 3, Can, Suicide, Silver Apples

MP3 :::
39 Clocks – Psycho Beat
39 Clocks – Dom (Electricity Elects the Rain)

Disappears have the Anton Newcombe approach to the music business – give all your shit away on the Intarwebz for free, and worry about sustainability later. I dig that. Since I’ve been meaning to czech out these dudes for a while, it was rather easy. Thanks, guys.

Of course, it would be silly to say that their albums are worth every penny, unless they were majorly a bummer. But I’m happy to report the Disappears clearance special is a helluva deal – I just downloaded all three releases, and they’re really great. I would’ve certainly bought these records – I love this group. I prefer their latest release Live Over the Rainbo, and perhaps that’s a rather telling aspect of Disappears. If you sound best live, you’ve probably got a good group of bros to rock with. The group, out of Chicago, actually reminds me a lot of Louisville’s Invaders (who have a similar name as well – so double association there). Reverb-heavy fuzzy guitars, punchy rhythm, a shoegaze aesthetic, and a touch of retro chic on acid – Disappears are everything that’s great about rock and roll.

Disappears are touring with the Black Angels this fall, and as such, are playing a couple of festivals in the area, including Nashville’s Next Big Nashville (duh) and Lexington’s Boomslang. I reckon I’ll catch them at one of the two, and I reckon you should do the same. Their MySpace has all the dates.

And sweet sassy molassey, you can, as mentioned, grip all their recorded work on the band’s caps lock-heavy blog here! That rules. Disappears rule. I rule. You rule. Everything rules. Except this – that does not rule.

MP3 :::
Disappears – Hearing Things

I feel like a doof for being completely un-fucking-aware that Nothing People dropped a doosey of a jam hive earlier this year until I read Joel Hunt’s review in LEO and got stoked. Late Night is a definite departure from Anonymous. The sound is richer – less spastic and noisy – and straddles the median between tremolo-saturated acid rock and shoegaze. Sure, the tone of this equation sounds like a drugged-induced exercise, but Nothing People keeps the songs focused and concise. This is a group that truly loves and understands Piper at the Gates of Dawn, creating a definitive post-millennial primer for more ominous trips down the rabbit hole.

For those unfamiliar, Nothing People, as a reference point, is Sonic Youth for Hawkwind fans. Despite the general downtempo movement of the group’s repertoire, there’s a subtle punk ethos/urgency that runs under the thick layers of reverb, knob tweakin’, and fuzzy psychedelic haze. And like all the aforementioned collectives, the line between what is improvised and what is intentional is quite blurry. I love it.

Late Night gets things started off brutally. Dig the swamp boogie of “Stuck in the Mud,” with its swinging rhythm and funky low end, or the subterranean sludgy summoner of stoner rock demons and kraut rock pulsars that is “It’s Not Your Speakers.” From there, the mood changes drastically, staring with “Pushing the Buttons,” a beautiful, windswept, desolate dirge that might invoke paranoia in the less hearty of us. “1-11″ stacks backwards samples and crossbreeds those dudes with gorgeous harmonies that, if I had my way, would’ve ended up in one of the Lord of the Rings movies (maybe the part in The Two Towers when Treebeard is all like “fuck ya’ll” and starts a riot). “Another Rattle” should please fans of Wooden Shjips, showcasing thick atomic age analog organs and a dusty, low key, heavy groove (courtesy of the new, uncredited former Monoshock keyboardist). “Janet” is what you hear right before you die, I think.

The album ends with the title track, and it’s actually a cover of the Syd Barrett’s “Late Night” (the same one that Belong beautifully reinterpreted last year). Nothing People adopts a more nauseating angle, with syrupy and sick synthesizers that cultivate a real woozy effect.

Nothing People tackle a myriad of approaches to brain melting rock/psych/post-punk/noise, and in doing so, upped the ante from their debut Anonymous. Late Night is a richly satisfying listening experience and a must-have release for any psych fan. Look for it on the year-end list. I hope Nothing People sells 5 million records.

Late Night is available now courtesy of S-S Records. Nothing People is (are?) also on MySpazz.

For fans of:  Wooden Shjips, Dead Meadow, Indian Jewelry, Bardo Pond

Fagen-Becker Quality Rating

MP3 :::
Nothing People – It’s Not Your Speakers
Nothing People – 1-11

Tea Tornado marks the reclusive Marmoset’s second effort since parting ways with Secretly Canadian, and first since the passing of member LonPaul Ellrich. Perhaps these tertiary factors have contributed to a different sounding Marmoset, one that has a newfound obsession with pastries (three songs are titled after items you’d find in a bakery). Or perhaps Tea Tornado is the result of a band simply trying new things. On the surface, Tea Tornado is absolutely still Marmoset – the deadpan, sarcastic, haunting vocals of Jorma Whittaker, their trademark utilization of sonic space, and the concise Syd Barrett meets Robert Pollard song structures (with a touch of Skip Spence’s creepiness).

With that said, there’s still something decidedly different about the cadence of Tea Tornado. The record is not as spooky or enigmatic as Record In Red, or spastic and sludgey like Today, It’s You. Rather, Tea Tornado comes off as an electric folk record, at least at first glance. The songs, tightly wound, play more minimal and straightforward, stay uptempo, and feature more clear instrumentation by way of more acoustic guitar, cleaner distortion, and a brighter mix.  Has Marmoset lightened up? Not exactly, but the smokiness has cleared a bit to reveal a more comfortable, onward looking Marmoset – yet one that still lurks in the shadows when necessary. Perhaps like the actual animal might.

Outside the slightly downtuned acoustic guitar and bummed lyrics on opener “Written Today,” the record opens with a sunshine folk timbre. Acid torch song “Empty Room” toys with ’60s pop and doo wop guitar. “Hallway” features upbeat Hammondesque organ and ruminations on childhood (”race you down the hallway”). Good vibes seem to abound on Tea Tornado. Yet, in these instances and others, Marmoset’s genre and mood hopping is extremely subtle. Every turn on Tea Tornado, as with all Marmoset releases, is covered with Jorma and company’s thick varnish. It’s always been difficult for me to ascertain exactly why I love Marmoset so much, and perhaps their distinction plays a large part.

However, when I said that “good vibes seem to abound on Tea Tornado,” seem is the operative word. Not all is rainbows and gumdrops with Marmoset, and if it was, our paradigm of reality would collapse upon itself. “Strawberry Shortcake” dabbles in serious low end and reverb – an almost hallucinogenic murder ballad with Morricone-style guitar to boot. When Whitakker asks you to “come with me/this is our last chance” on “Come With Me,” a song that began with “you can’t understand my evil/it hides in the depths of my grey matter” you can infer that this is not a Capulet-Montague love song. The fiercely downstrummed and stoned “He’s Been Napping” is downright demented and delightful. “You, Blueberry Muffin” acts as a snapshot of psychosis.

Yes, Marmoset is still keeping things sinister despite the injection of anti-depressants found on portions of Tea Tornado. And that may be the best part – there’s a juxtaposition in mood without a drastic change in sound. The group’s haunting facets do not hit you until later, as an afterthought or a latter reflection.

While Tea Tornado might not exist on the same plane as Record In Red (which would be difficult to do anyway, as Record In Red is a fucking classic), it’s Marmoset and it’s rad. Tea Tornado is a kaleidoscopic exercise, a great sounding record, and, perhaps most importantly, a deceivingly heavy body of songs. It’s a real creeper and worthy of your gray matter.

Marmoset’s Tea Tornado was just released by Joyful Noise and is available here.

For fans of:  Alexander Skip Spence, early Velvet Underground, Syd Barrett, Psychedelic Horseshit

Fagen-Becker Quality Rating

POSSIBLY RELATED :::
The Decibel Tolls presents… MARMOSET with INVADERS and THE HARLEQUINS

MP3 :::
Marmoset – You, Blueberry Muffin
Marmoset – Empty Room

UPDATE 8.4: While I’ve made some rather cute, possibly uncouth comments about the insane weather today in this entry, the flooding has gotten serious in Louisville. I’ve been adding news as I get it on The Decibel Tolls’ Twitter. Be careful out there, ya’ll.

Sweet sassy molassey! The concert event I’ve been waiting for all summer, Deerhunter, is tonight at the Southgate House in Newport! And I better not be stymied by our ill-tempered God in our attempt to hang tough with Braddy C, Lotus P, and the whole rabble rousin’ gang. As of right now, rather gnarly, apocalyptic weather abounds. WHAS is reporting that it’s all 1937 up in this bitch. I’m currently listening to NOAA weather radio, and to paraphrase, everything is “fucked” in Louisville as we speak, especially the suburbs on the Indiana side. Large stretches of the expressways are shut down, the buses are running 90 minutes behind schedule, and lots of mellows are harshed throughout the area. LEO Weekly’s Jonathan Meador has very good (and contextual) coverage of the insanity in the River City today on our news blog.

Here’s the garage of the main branch of the Louisville Free Public Library. Dude, it’s like Fahrenheit 451, but like, the opposite:

Churchill Downs now hosts water polo:

And here’s a visual aid representing what we’re driving in later this evening for Deerhunter times. Groovy:

Should be a wavy gravy time on the roads this evening. However, and this is important to you all reading this particular entry, northbound I-71 is golden. Deerhunter is one of the best bands ever, performing at one of the finest music venues in the nation. So I’m goin’, I don’t give a shit. I suggest you do the same if you’re traveling from Louisville as well. Eat it, Mother Nature.

Moreover, tonight’s performance is part of Deerhunter’s “Round Robin” tour wherein they’ve invited some friends to play along in collaboration, seamlessly weaving through each others songs. The Southgate rockshow is one of only seven dates that are part of this special showcase. The friends they’ve invited along are folks you might like, specifically the No Ages and the Dan Deacons. And that’s cool. But for me, all that matters is Rowdy Roddy B. Cox and Motherfuckin’ DEEEEEERHUNTERRRRR!!!!1!!11!!ones1!!! Tickets, I think, are sold out, but there are usually some friendly scalpers around The Levee should you need to resort to that. Perhaps they will trade you tickets some reliable umbrella technology.

See you there? In one piece?

P.S. – In other news, B Cox is totally hilarious and a rad bro, even when tripping on flu meds, as evidenced in this highly entertaining interview with Buddyhead:

MP3 :::
Deerhunter – Death Drag
Deerhunter – Octet
Deerhunter – Wash Off
Deerhunter – Little Kids
Lotus Plaza – Antoine
Atlas Sound – Ativan

The band’s name features the buzz word “zombie” and hails from New York, but don’t write Manual Zombie off. This is fresh. Mixing the instrumentation of traditional psychedelia with homemade gadgets – everything from samplers to the buzzing of television tubes – Manual Zombie pulls you by the headphone tech down into a celestial swamp and lets you hang uncomfortably. Ice From the Sun is nasty, delicious, shifty, possibly completely improvised psych that lays the fuzz on thick and keeps the vocals to a grumble or a growl, like Dead Meadow after seeing some shit that can’t be unseen (czech “Automatic People,” not to be confused with Automatic For the People, hombre). You even hear a little punk and surf in the record’s mid-section by way of “Slave.” And just when you think you’ve ingested the doctor’s recommended dosage, Manual Zombie totally switches it up on the cascading and beautiful “Justifying to God.” If The Outer Limits was reincarnated on television, I vote for “Woods Off Of Interstate 55″ to be the theme song.

In short, Manual Zombie feels like Swans at their least Satanic, Bardo Pond at their grooviest, and Hawkwind bummin’ hard on some downers. Do not sleep on this! Go see about them at their Interwebz place or on MySpazz (the latter features a number of awesome posters like the one above).

For fans of:   Swans, Bardo Pond, Acid Mothers Temple, Plastic Crimewave Sound

MP3 :::
Manual Zombie – Automatic People
Manual Zombie – Justifying to God
Manual Zombie – Woods Off Of Interstate 55