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De Stijl Discovers a True Gem with 39 Clocks

39clocks De Stijl Discovers a True Gem with 39 Clocks

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)

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A Quick, Odd, Fun Email Exchange with Oneida

oneida-email A Quick, Odd, Fun Email Exchange with Oneida

I shot a message over to Fat Bobby shortly before Preteen Weaponry, part one of the Thank Your Parents long player series, dropped in August with a couple of fun questions.  He got back to me to January.  What he loses in punctuality, he makes up for in dedication.  My questions were goofy, and the responses were equally so.

Bobby felt bad about the delay, writing “no worries if it’s way too late to post, and I agree about me being a fucking unreliable bastard…but in my defense, I haven’t answered anyone else’s questions, at least not meaningfully, so I hope you can take my delay as just the odd gearings of a fucked up clock.”  Part two in the series, Rated O, has been pushed back to a summer release date, but in the meantime, enjoy picking the brain of 1/3 of Oneida…  Continue reading ‘A Quick, Odd, Fun Email Exchange with Oneida’

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Don’t Be a Jerk – Grip the New Deerhunter, For Real

deerhunter2 Dont Be a Jerk - Grip the New Deerhunter, For Real

Tomorrow, Deerhunter’s monolithic double disc Microcastle/Weird Era Cont. drops courtesy of Kranky or 4AD, depending on where you live. Yes, it leaked, and we all greedily took. We all witnessed the Lord of the Flies-esque free-for-all, and the subsequent fallout from the blog debacle – in addition to the rueful behavior of the fallible, sinful collective of scalawags and pirates known as your peers and neighbors. And after the dust settled, we all found out that Deerhunter had recorded an incredible collection of music. Continue reading ‘Don’t Be a Jerk – Grip the New Deerhunter, For Real’

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Women Shatter Glass Ceilings, Eardrums, Et Al.

women Women Shatter Glass Ceilings, Eardrums, Et Al.

I love the new self-titled album by Women. It’s currently available on the near flawless Jagjaguwar label, and since it’s based in Bloomington, serves as possibly the only really awesome thing about Indiana. As you can see, Women is (presumably) four dudes. Sausage fest!

I was introduced to Women (that sounds so odd) by a fellow Tiny Mix Tapes writer who proclaimed that Women is prefect for anyone who “gets their dick up to Animal Collective.” I was certainly intrigued after that statement, especially since he said the word “dick.” And while I would concur that the Calgary band sometimes evokes the more menacing material on Here Comes the Indian and Danse Manitee, Women are by no means a knock-off. Whereas Animal Collective has always exuded a playfulness and childlike veneer, here be dragons within Women. The crescendo of the excellently titled “Lawncare” wants to pillage your village and breed with your women (pun intended, motherfucker). Continue reading ‘Women Shatter Glass Ceilings, Eardrums, Et Al.’

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Me and Michael Gira Down By the Schoolyard

meandmichaelgira Me and Michael Gira Down By the Schoolyard

The photo above is Kenny Bloggins doing his angry Michael Gira face, exhibited with the gatefold spread of the Can’t Find My Way Home 12″ by Swans. I love this single. It was a going-away gift from punk rock historian Uncle Bill Widener when I moved to Chicago. I like to crank it when I take my relaxation bubble bath, complemented by only the finest sacred oils and incense imported from India. This, among other reasons, inspired a little write-up on Swans.

First, boo’s been into reading rock biographies as of late. In the past month, she’s read memiors by Beatle wives Pattie Boyd and Cynthia Lennon, Clapton by Eric Clapton (not joking about the title), and Everyone’s Fucking: The Fleetwood Mac Story (okay, I am joking about that one). Now she’s in the middle of the new Sonic Youth biography, Goodbye 20th Century by David Browne, which she says is excellent. The first half of the book details Thurston Moore’s relationship(s) with experimental/no-wave luminaries in the New York area, Michael Gira in particular. She was excited to discuss with me all the reasons why Michael Gira, at least at the dawn of the ’80s, was pretty much a doo-doo head, albeit an intriguing one. Secondly, Swans is not recognized nearly enough for being a premiere shoegaze band, and as such, I wish to entertain an argument for this premise. And thirdly, M. Gira’s playing a show this evening in NYC for five binks. All these reasons seemed poignant enough to me to write an entry, so let’s begin, shall we? Continue reading ‘Me and Michael Gira Down By the Schoolyard’

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Indian Jewelry live on WFMU

indianjewelry Indian Jewelry live on WFMU

The Chicago by way of Texas no wave psych fright fest Indian Jewelry recently laid down a gross set on WFMU (still the best station on the planet) who posted the entire performance up on the Beware of the Blog. They played a pretty eclectic cross section of their catalog, including grooves off of their latest, excellent and surprisingly catchy record Free Gold, their previous, more sinister Inevasive Exotics, and some choice miscellany. My favorite live shows tend to gravitate toward quite different, but not unrecognizable, performances of the recorded material, and Indian Jewelry seem to pretty much feel the same way. The extended version of “Lost My Sight” is sexy like my tractor. Trenchant and nefarious – these dudes are prophets.

I had the privilege of seeing Indian Jewelry live in the fall of 2005 with sludge warriors Warmer Milks, and it was psychotic. The stage was ornate with intense strobe lights, billowing smoke, shawls, industrial sized aluminum foil, animal skulls, and the Lone Star State flag. Not for the faint of brain, Indian Jewelry steer the helm of a very ominous head trip. Worth seeing if you have the chance. I definitely recommend tryin’ to grip Free Gold, so hey, why not preview it here.

MP3 :::
Indian Jewelry – Live on WFMU

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