GUN SLAUGHTER // GIMP

 

GIMP: Brutal and powerful PV/Grind from Phoenix. They make shit different in the Sonoran Desert. 

GUN SLAUGHTER: Brutal and powerful PV/Grind from Vancouver. Five songs, three minutes.

YOU: Curious, intrigued, eager....hungry.

ME: Piece of shit.

GIMP // GUN SLAUGHTER

DESTRUCTION UNIT

 

I heard of DESTRUCTION UNIT through MARSHSTEPPER, who I heard of through AVON LADIES who I stopped to see because they were playing with someone I had already heard of on a trip through the Southwest sometime in the previous decade. All three acts share (or have shared) a member, and all three are completely different (in general and from each other). Also, all three are fucking incredible. There are a ton of DESTRUCTION UNIT recordings and I have yet to hear one that I didn't like (a lot), and 2014's Deep Trip is exactly that; a dark-psyche journey that lands like BAUHAUS and HAWKWIND simultaneously conjured by DIY punks. Probably because that's basically what they fukkn are. To hear a band go this deep and somehow never veer off course is something truly magical. Deep Trip is magic.  

DEEP TRIP

MEAT PUPPETS

 

There are probably some people reading this who don't realize that they need to listen to early MEAT PUPPETS recordings from two sessions in November of 1981. You might be one of those people and, if I'm being honest, I was one of those people until I popped this morsel in my ear holes. So if you are one of those people who simply don't know (yet) until now.....? You're welcome. Because now you know. Desert weird is an entirely different kind of weird, and these recordings are so gloriously fukkn raw that it makes me feel like I never need to listen to the first two LPs again (even though I'm going to listen to them on my ride downtown as soon as I eat this sandwich). Again...you're welcome.

FIRST ALBUM OUTTAKES

FEMALE SNAKE

 

FEMALE SNAKE was a short and fierce smash in the face when they came (and went) in 2008. Two tapes and a split EP (with songs from the other tape), maybe ten minutes of music all in....and they didn't fuck around. Savagely misanthropic power violence with all of the requisite stop/start/blast, a bass rumble to be feared and vocals that land like repeated stabs. Song titles read like chapters in a damaged love story...or perhaps an Incel Manifesto. No lyrics, so draw your own conclusion....this music isn't supposed to be pretty. 

FEMALE SNAKE

HAGGUS / ALBATROS / DISEMBOWELER / MEATUS

 

I suppose you have to be in the right mental state - or perhaps in a permanently wrong mental state - for these sounds to make sense, but some people live and breathe this shit every day. ALBATROS has a song titled "RawMinceGrind Forever." DISEMBOWELER uses Simpsons samples and has a tracked called "Itchy And Scratchy." HAGGUS open the tape with "Mincecoe Warfare." And what about MEATUS...? They spend four minutes churning through tracks like "Preparation Of Digestive Fluids" and "Odour Characteristic Of Fats." But if your head is in the right place...then there's no place you'd rather be.

RAW MINCE GRIND FOREVER

CLASS

 

"Steady Hands" kicks in and I feel like I just discovered some unknown Chiswick nugget. 

But it's not London '78...it's Tucson '22. 

And it's not a rehash...CLASS are students. 

CLASS are students...and "Pills On A Dish" gets straight fukkn As.

CLASS

 

PETER KATER & R. CARLOS NAKAI

 

Check your cool points at the door and just sit with Natives for a while. Let Peter Kater's improvisational new age piano take you by the hand and lead you into the world of Navajo flautist R. Carlos Nakai. It's a world they share on this 1990 release, and while it's not a world that I want to live in all the time (let's be honest: no riffs)....it's a world I don't mind escaping to. Old person new age recordings are kinda for the birds, but if you look closely you will find more than a few that are well worth you time (and submission). You dig bird sounds? You dig heartfelt instrumental montages? Then this might just be one of those few. It's Saturday and if you're in the northern hemisphere it might be a little chilly so....fuck it. Relax. 

NATIVES: AN IMPROVISATIONAL EXPLORATION OF THE SEVEN DIRECTIONS

FREAKS OF NATURE

 

This little morsel slipped into my inbox a while back and left me breathless. Sun baked, sweaty garage punk from strip mall wastelands surrounded by the Sonoran desert, this Phoenix outfit captures '60s fuzz and fukkn owns the energy. This is the punk of dehydration and bathtub crank, of going hard and going all night, this is the sound that made the first wave punks turn away from hardcore in the '90s - listen to FREAKS OF NATURE and you'll understand why. 

SONGS FOR SAVAGES

ELDERS

 

Hard to believe a behemoth like ELDERS only lasted two recordings (the Blind Rage LP that followed this tape is mandatory), but maybe they just couldn't take their own intensity. This tape from 2009 has the fire of early '00s fastcore but it's deliberately damaged - like late '80s SST running body checking early '80s SSD. The vocals simply exhaust me, and then hearing that clean guitar drop into a breakdown ("Bring You Down," as an example) makes my teeth hurt. ELDERS were from Phoenix...I think I saw them but once on an off day en route to a show in Marfa, Texas. We went to see the Marfa Lights after that show; it was a full moon and the weird grey shadows from the moonlit creosote freaked me the fuck out and I ran back to the van while everyone else had a nice trip. That story has nothing whatsoever to do with ELDERS, however. Listen to "Used And Abused" at full volume. 

ELDERS

MARSHSTEPPER

 

It's been quite a while since MARSHTEPPER paid us a visit. Haunting as always, distant as always, transfixing as always, I have seen very few bands conjure internal demons like they can (could) and do (did). This live transgression from 2013 should perhaps be shared on Escape Is Terminal (it is live, after all), but no one decides what we should or should not do....except us. 

THE TRANSGRESSION CONTINUES...

DALE NOE

 

It's fortunate that my interest in under the radar country is a curiosity more than an obsession. I'll leave the obsession to the folks at Dollar Country (and I thank them for putting in the work), and just snag the odd nugget when it appears...like this collection of songs from (and by) Dale Noe. A quick listen to this 1992 collection will make it clear why Noe was more noted as a songwriter than as a singer, but if you're repertoire includes "It's Such A Pretty World Today" (recorded by Loretta Lynn, Johnny Paycheck, Nancy Sinatra, Wynn Stewart and countless others) then you get a pretty wide berth in my book. The title is pretty self explanatory, and I love the notion of an accomplished songwriter self releasing a cassette in his late 60s. Secret should-have-been hit: "Angel In A Devil's Arms."

SONGS I WROTE

THINK FAST

Second wave fastcore revival form Phoenix, THINK FAST ripped their way through the mid-'00s and left a small but solid collection of vinyl slabs in their wake. Someone was nice enough to throw them all onto a tape, and you can hear the (partied) records popping between blasts....a nice touch. You've got the entirety of the 2000s packed into these 26 minutes - touches of "bigger" and more anthemic 'core, pure blasting thrash, determined positive hardcore, and a near constant flurry of riffs and jump parts. Shit just makes me feel good. 

THINK FAST  

LESLIE DUKE

Considering the state of current society, considering the state of the world, considering the underlying and terminal fear that forms the foundation of the overarching, pervasive, down your throat fear that dominates most waking moments, considering that so many of us exist a reality filled with uncertainty and contempt even in the face of the love and joy (that might be) present in our personal lives...considering all of these things and so many more, I think that there are many people who might need a break. This break comes in the form of independent would-be child star LESLIE DUKE from the heart of the Sonoran desert.

LESLIE DUKE

Not sure about your copy, but mine is autographed. 

BURNOUT

This Phoenix band is just disgusting. Perhaps this is one of the many modern faces of the various and splintered subgenres that take refuge under the broad and appropriated umbrella of "power violence." Personally, I'm completely OK with that, and I'm pretty sure that BURNOUT are ok with it too. Five short minutes that will leave your day is complete shambles. 

PRIMAL CODE 

SYNCHESTRA

New Age hippie and/or Phoenix multi-instrumentalist Ed Van Fleet's SYNCHESTRA dropped eight cassettes on the venerable Elfin Music label before Van Fleet concentrated on releasing work under his own name, and this was his first. Peaceful synths soar and dominate 1981's Mother Earth's Lullaby as Van Fleet carries the listener on a journey of spiritual growth rooted in earth Herself. "We cannot achieve paradise in another dimension until we can create one in this dimension," writes Van Fleet on the J-card, "To this end and in the interest of our destiny, we offer this music." I accept your offer.

 

MOTHER EARTH'S LULLABY

"Electronic and Acoustic Instruments at their sensitive best."

SHORT OF BREATH

Flagstaff, Arizona - early 2000s. RUINACRE were still gods, even if they had split. The Casebeer brothers did shows in a basement they had literally jackhammered out of the side of a mountain (and, interestingly, had the first web server business I had ever heard of, much less seen), and Matt had his own janitorial company. WHN? and LIFES HALT played the basement in 2001 (crossing paths with DEAD AND GONE, who had played there the night before), and ARTIMUS PYLE returned the following summer to play a small space downtown. That second gig was a stinker to be honest, but Matt's new band SHORT OF BREATH played, and.....holy shit. Kinda like west coast blasting PV shits, but there's an off the rails desert grind vibe present in every crevice of this recording and its an irreverence that suits the genre well. I'm pretty sure they only left us with these nine songs....so I suggest that you pay attention to these nine songs. 

SHORT OF BREATH

BURNOUT

This thing is fukkn filthy. Too often, shit this fierce is marred by over (or under) production or a pretension in presentation that distracts (or detracts) from the bands' urgency. BURNOUT is nothing if not urgent, and even though there are only four songs on this tour tape their statement is crystal clear....and it is terrifying. Listen to "up against the wall" at the 0:37 mark of "Enemy" just as the hyper mini mosh part drops after the band slows to a deadly crawl - these fools just crush. The subtlety of a steamroller when they take their time, the intensity of a crack head who just won $250 playing Scratchers when they pick up the pace. Seven minutes is not enough. 

BURNOUT

OTRO MUNDO

When you find an Ascetic House release in an abandoned box of cassettes on the sidewalk, you take that box home with you. Because Ascetic House, you know? Sometimes though, you get surprised by things on the sidewalk...and sometimes that is a good thing. I'll leave you with those words, so that you can enter the world of OTRO MUNDO with the same predispositions that I did. Enjoy. 

THE UNDISCOVER'D COUNTRY FROM WHOSE BOURN NO TRAVELLER RETURNS

JOCK CLUB

I still sometimes think about that MARSHSTEPPER show at The Lab in SF a bunch of years ago, when I showed up on time (stupid) and waited for HOURS before anything happened and then when something did happen it was a fucking laptop techno DJ kid and I was silently fuming because I'm old and sometimes I get cranky and sleepy and I just wanted to fucking see MARSHSTEPPER and then after a few minutes I was like "damn, this laptop DJ kid is fukkn banging" and then I was really happy and MARSHSTEPPER was super good too. Yeah....been a JOCK CLUB fan ever since that night. Good job, laptop DJ kid. 

IN THE JUNGLE

J.S. AURELIUS

The title pretty much sums this one up perfectly, and the source pretty much ensures quality. I suppose I could say a lot of things, but I will leave it here: this is mandatory, my friends. Headphones and volume strongly recommended.

FOR LUXURY OR THERAPY? MEDITATIONS ON DRUG USAGE