"It's all just noise." That's what my father used to say about the music I listened to in my room during my teen years. In all fairness, he was right about Diesel Rhino just being "noise," but that was what appealed to me about it. As for the rest, it was music.
Back in 2016, before Covid-19 fucked up everyone's plans, the Monsters released The Jungle Noise Recordings on Reverend Beat-Man's own Voodoo Rhythm Records label. It was the 1994-95 home recording sessions of the Monsters. If you've followed the band, you know these songs. Jungle Noise was originally released by the German label Jungle Noise in 1995 as a 10" vinyl. Some of the other tracks here were released on 7"s on other labels, and the song "It's Not My Way" was originally meant for a Swiss anti-war compilation, but was not put on that release for whatever reason.
The band's lineup at the time was a bit different, than what most fans are used to, as well. Robert Butler and Kat Allen were both in the band at that time, but later parted ways to pursue other projects.
Featuring 19 songs that are a fascinating look at the band's beginnings. It starts out with the energetic fuzzed-out thrash of "Psych-Out With Me" and ends with "Skeleton Stomp." In between you got all the classics like "Mummie Fucker Blues," "Lonesome Town," "Rock Around the Tombstone," and "Play With Fire." It is, indeed, music to ruin any party, and, more importantly, it is historic.
The Monsters is the only band tattoo I sport. Not the Misfits. Not Black Flag or the Dead Kennedys. Not Prince. The Monsters. Why? I recognize its purity. Beat-Man describes the sound as "primitive rock-n-roll chainsaw massacre trash garage" music. That is the most accurate description one can give.
Purity in audio form, and if you haven't experienced the band's sound yet, you should. This is a good place to start.
The town I currently live in, Eureka, California, is home to some amazing musical talent. There are lots of areas, however, that produce an insane amount of musical talent. New Jersey, for instance. The grunge scene in the Seattle area. Sometimes it is something about the area, like with grunge, that causes a certain type of sound to become associated with that area. Besides grunge, there was also Atlanta's hip-hop scene and Norwegian black metal. Eureka does not have that kind of association with it, instead we gave the world . . .
Mike Patton and Sara Bareilles.
Mike Patton got big being in Faith No More, but before that he fronted the Eureka-based, polarizing Mr. Bungle.
Sara Bareilles is just everywhere, and most people you run into in Eureka have a story about how nice she is or how they know her family.
There is no argument that both are talented in their own right. Both have great voices. And both have a fan following. Bareilles is, as to be expected, a far more liked talent as her work is easy on the ears. Patton, however, is . . . well, he's Mike Patton. I consider him to be the more influential of the two and the more artistic, but that's just me. Listening to Mr. Bungle's first self-titled release should be enough to prove that, but you should judge for yourself.
These two aren't the only famous musicians from here, but they represent the broad scope of talent that Eureka, for whatever reason (Mr. Bungle would say it's the dismal town) produces. If this were a city the size of New York City or Los Angeles, one would understand that broad spectrum, but this is Eureka. One mall with half the stores closed. Two main shopping areas, neither being all that big or impressive. Logging used to be the main industry. Now it's pot. If there was ever an area with absolutely nothing special about it, it would be here. And yet we've produced these two artists.
That Mr. Bungle, as schizo as a band gets, came from Eureka would surprise nobody who spent over a year here. I've been here for over two decades. I think I know the town a bit. It's a haven for speed freaks, homeless prostitutes, child abuse, sex trafficking, pony girls, serial killers, sons of cult leaders, corruption, despair. It is no wonder that with a town like this you get "Love is a Fist."
That being the case, the town does not explain Bareilles. She's upbeat. Positive. Lilting. There's a side of Eureka that is a bit like her, too, but it only really prospers when you ignore all the other grime.
Mr. Bungle may be a mystery to people, and that's part of the appeal. But to people like me, it is the soundtrack to Eureka and will forever be associated with it.
Maybe you have heard of Frank Cassese because he wrote this truly sublime and disturbing book called Baby Killer. I've sung its praises many times. Little known fact, the book's title was originally going to be that of a Misfits song. You know the Misfits, right? One of the best bands (punk or not) to come out of New Jersey. One of the best bands, period. The noticeable thing here isn't that the Misfits are incredible, or even that Cassese was going to name his book after one of the band's songs. It's that he obviously has some musical knowledge and taste. And with that in mind, it goes to figure he would also produce some music.
Now, what kind of music would the man who wrote Baby Killer make? Punk in the style of The Exploited or even the Misfits? Maybe. What about some neo folk? Not likely. Hip hop? Please. No, the obvious answer is metal. In this case death metal.
Ladies and gentlemen, may I present Corpse Stain.
The album is The Last Messiah. Click on that album title and be prepared for a treat. Now, I'm not the biggest death metal fan. I like it, but I don't actively seek it out. Those of you who followed me back in my Tattoo Savage days may remember I wrote a review of a black/death metal compilation CD that pissed someone off so much that he wrote a letter to the magazine saying he was going to decapitate me and defecate down my neck. The editor published the letter not realizing that it came from just a few towns away from where I lived. She later apologized to me and wished me good luck in not being killed.
With that in mind, I can honestly recommend this as being worth at least an initial listen. My guess is you'll want to hear it again. Even I, not the biggest death metal fan in the world, have listened to it a few times. Chiefly when I am working on the next volume of Sinful Cinema.
Go give it a listen and buy his damn book. Neither of these will disappoint you.
On January 24, 2020 the world turned upside down. No, it wasn't Covid-19 and the subsequent death tolls that fueled conspiracy theories and turned every idiot on Facebook into a doctor. It was a nervous breakdown, and not of the Black Flag sort.
"Far out, over the edge, filthy, desperate fuzz noise, garage rock 'n' roll from France," was how it was described. It was an apt description of what was unleashed that day. Destination Lonely. NervousBreakdown. A double album to usher in a New Age. This was the dawning of the Age of Virus.
Voodoo Rhythm Records released this monster. It came from a studio that was book for two weeks. 17 songs came from those 14 days. Two covers were thrown into the mix: "I Want You" from the Troggs, and "Ann" from The Stooges. You knew that, though. Destination Lonely is bound by law to do such things. And while it seems like the band's third album should be a triple album (imagine the thrills), it was kept to a dual release. Two times the fun as the world started coughing and dying.
It was easy to miss this release from the French trio. After all, some other things were happening at the time. The virus was makin' news and introducing terms like "social distancing" and "shelter in place" while "Schizo MF" and "Blind Man" played on stereos for those of us in the know.
Is it a good album? Of course it is. Destination Lonely can't put out a bad release. It just ain't in their blood, Jack. When something opens with "Lovin'," and it's all kinds of fuzzed out, you just know it's all gravy from there. If you'd judge it by its cover (who doesn't?), you'd be tempted to think it is some college-level experimental minimalism masquerading as "something deep and meaningful, man." You'd be forgiven for thinking that nonsense. And while it is deep and meaningful, it isn't pretentious noodling around. It is as described. Filthy. Fuzz. Noise. Garage. Desperate.
And damn good.
You are trapped inside. Concerts aren't happening any time soon. Why not grab something new to listen to? Take a chance on something? You can get it on Voodoo's site, or on Amazon. I don't care where you get it from, just get it. Put it on and watch the world slide into a new traumatizing normal. To quote the song "Day by Day," "Well I came into your life like a spit on a face/I blew your mind I made you really so insane." These guys knew it was coming before you did. The least you could do is give them a listen . . . before you end up dying in some emergency room . . . alone . . . the coughs of the dying mingling with the beeps of various machines. Yeah, that's the least you can do.
Does anyone ... anyone remember Nasty Savage? I was first exposed to this wonderful thrash band with its song XXX on the Metal Massacre VI LP, which was a fantastic compilation. Whenever I read articles on the history of metal, or pieces on fondly remembered metal bands, Nasty Savage seems to be left off the lists. Maybe it is because the band is from Florida. Maybe it's because there were a bunch of other great bands at the time that slightly overshadowed the guys. Maybe it's because I'm just one of a handful that liked it.
Whatever the reason, if you like metal you should at least attempt to check out Nasty Savage. It was good stuff then, and it holds up now.
