Six Word Sunday

Sleeping in on a Sunday = joy!

New Wave for the New Week #153

When it comes to Los Angeles-based punk bands, there are certain names that spring immediately to most people's minds: Black Flag. The Circle Jerks. X. The Germs. One often overlooked name that belongs on that same short list of important LA bands is The Plugz.

Along with fellow Chicano punks The Zeros, The Plugz played rough, loud, driving music that was abrasive enough to please the punk kids, but was given a decidedly noticeable flavor of traditional Mexican folk music.  Over the course of two outstanding if underrated albums and a handful of memorable singles - not to mention inclusion on the soundtrack of one of the greatest movies of the era - The Plugz found a unique and memorable voice among the throng of often samey-sounding LA bands cropping up in the late-70s/early-80s.

The original line of lead vocalist Tito Larriva on guitar, Barry McBride on bass and Carlos Quintana on drums came together around 1977-78, debuting with a 3-song 7-inch that included "Move," "Mindless Contentment," and "Let Go."  This was followed a year later by an outstanding single (one of my favorites of the era, actually), "Achin'."  These two records introduced the band's basic sound: basic, straightforward garage-y punk.  It was the flip side of the "Achin'" single, however, where they really let loose with a hyper-speed cover of Richie Valens' "La Bamba."

An album soon followed.  1979's Electrify Me gathered re-recordings of "Let Go" and "La Bamba" together with a strong selection of new material that ran the gamut from the reggae-fied folk of the title track to the thunka-thunka punk of "A Gain - A Loss" to the Clash-like "Satisfied Die."  There simply isn't a clunker in the mix.  Excellent.

Barry McBride left the band around this time, and was eventually replaced by Tony Marsico.  In 1981 The Plugz issued their second album, Better Luck.  While the music here harks back to the earlier material ("El Clavo y la Cruz" could have fit easily on the first record; "Achin'" gets re-recorded for this LP), The Plugz did not remain stagnant in their sophomore effort.  This album explores some of the folkier sides of their music which were only hinted at on Electrify Me, and tracks like "Touch For Cash" and the stunning "Blue Sofa" show a band that has matured and moved out of the garage.

The Plugz disappeared for awhile after that, resurfacing in 1984 when they donated three tracks ("El Clavo y la Cruz," "Reel Ten," and an excellent cover, "Hombre Secreto (Secret Agent Man)") to the soundtrack to the movie Repo Man.  Rather than a triumphant comeback, however, this turned out to be The Plugz' swan song: the trio would morph into The Cruzados, a more straight-ahead and, unfortunately, bland rock and roll outfit.

Both Plugz albums were reissued on CD by the Enigma label around 1990, but those discs have fallen out of print, and unfortunately both they and the original vinyl albums command high dollars if and when you can find them.  Still, if you're patient you can sometimes find them turning up in an eBay auction or a used record shop at more budget-friendly prices.  Trust me, both are well worth the effort.

Listen to the original single recording of "Achin'" and their outstanding cover of "La Bamba" below to enjoy one of the truly underrated bands to come out of the LA scene. Enjoy!

Six Word Sunday

Screaming, but none seem to hear.

FINAL PUSH: Let's Make the Amy Gore & Her Valentines Record a Reality!

In lieu of this week's NW4NW, I wanted to take the opportunity to ask all of you out there to help in this final day of Amy Gore & Her Valentines' Kickstarter campaign to raise $4,500 to release their debut LP.  The clock runs out at midnight tonight, and they're just under $1,400 shy of the goal.

We can help make this a reality if everyone is willing to pitch in!  895 of you follow @TWIWGTS on Twitter; 244 of you "like" the TWIWGTS Facebook page.  By my math, if everyone pitched in $1.25 per Twitter follow and $1.25 per Facebook like, we'd make this album happen! Why, that's couch change!

Of course, if you're willing and able to donate more, the band is offering some pretty nifty incentive gifts, which you can read all about on their Kickstarter page.  I'm willing to throw this out there as well:  if the goal of $4,500.00 is hit, anyone who donates any amount to this campaign, even if only a dollar, will earn the right to either
     
          a.) write a review of the album, which I will post right here on the blog*;
          b.) write a guest blog post as part of an upcoming series called "My Favorite Band" (more to come about that in a few days)*; or
          c.) choose a band to featured in an upcoming NW4NW post

So come on, folks!  Let's make this happen!




 * Any submitted material subject to editing or refusal for offensive or inappropriate content, at my sole discretion.

Six Word Sunday

Happy Mother's Day, one and all!

New Wave for the New Week #152

There are those who will argue exactly where the whole Mutant Disco/No Wave scene happening in late-70s New York fits on the Punk Rock-New Wave spectrum.  That it was a fascinating, creative scene is obvious from the cast of characters populating it: if you don't know the names Lydia Lunch, Arto Lindsay, Jim Sclavunos, Robert Quine, Judy Nylon, etc., get thee to Googling!  No less than Brian Eno found it a scene well worth documenting, which he did on the absolutely necessary 1978 compilation No New York. Some dismiss the music as artless noise; others see in it the seeds of influence for bands ranging from Sonic Youth to Nine Inch Nails.  No Wave had a sense of humor (or at least a sense of irony), but it was gritty, harsh, and confrontational.

Among the most confrontational of that scene were The Contortions.  Led by saxophonist James Chance, The Contortions squawked out a groove that sounded like James Brown jamming with Captain Beefheart.  Blaring and atonal one moment, funky and smooth the next, The Contortions were infamous for not only challenging their live audiences sonically but physically as well.  Chance was not above getting into shoving matches and out-and-out fistfights with the audience.

After making their vinyl debut on No New York, The Contortions issued their lone album, Buy, in 1979.  Anchored by the fantastic "Contort Yourself," Buy is a difficult but rewarding listen.  Internal tensions caused the band to blow apart around the same time the album appeared, and those tensions are audible here.

Shortly thereafter, Chance rechristened himself, assembled a new batch of musicians, and as James White & The Blacks issued the outstanding Off White LP.  While still exploring the atonal fringes of sound, this record was considerably more accessible than Buy.  A silky take on Irving Berlin's "(Tropical) Heat Wave" provides a safe and familiar jumping-off point for novice listeners, while "Contort Yourself" reappears here in a somewhat less intimidating version to welcome existing Chance/White fans.  Fellow No Wave figure Lydia Lunch (with whom Chance had helped to create the infamous Teenage Jesus & The Jerks) appears incognito on the album.  A fantastic record.

A somewhat revised lineup of James White & The Blacks released Sax Maniac in 1982, basically continuing where Off White left off.  (This time around, the Johnny Mercer/Howard Arlen chestnut "That Ol' Black Magic" gets the wailing treatment.) A few years later, a final James White & The Blacks album, Melt Yourself Down, appeared as a Japanese-only release.

Over the years, Chance has never stopped, playing with various musicians and under assorted variations of the Chance/White/Contortions names, and a number of live recordings of varying quality have been issued on vinyl and cassette.  In 2003 a handy 4-disc career retrospective, Irresistible Impulse, turned up, eliminating the need to track down the whole discography.

For this week's NW4NW entry, here are a couple of clips from The Contortions.  First, an audio-only clip of the legendary "Contort Yourself," and then rare footage from a NYC cable access show, InnerTubes, of The Contortions performing "I Can't Stand Myself" at Max's Kansas City in 1979. Enjoy!

Six Word Sunday

Door closes. Window opens. Cycle continues.

New Wave for the New Week #151

Claiming influences as varied as The Birthday Party, Motörhead, and Leonard Cohen, The Sisters Of Mercy came together in England as the '70s turned to the '80s.  Through a troubled and sporadic recording career that spanned  a decade yet only resulted in three proper albums, The Sisters Of Mercy created some starkly memorable, deeply moody music that often gets lumped in with the Goth scene but was much more than that.  Yes, you can hear the echoes of Peter Murphy's horror-flick pretensions in Andrew Eldritch's rumbling growl, but there are equal parts Jim Morrison rock-n-roll preening and Nick Cave swagger mixed in as well.  Their music verged at times on pseudo-psychedelia, rocked hard when they so chose, and could become the stuff of nightmares with surprising ease.

The Sisters Of Mercy began to gather steam through a series of early singles including "Alice" and "Temple Of Love," as well as The Reptile House EP, all of which were recorded by the group's original lineup: Eldritch on vocals, Gary Marx and Ben Gunn on guitars, Craig Adams on bass and a drum machine they named Doktor Avalanche.  In 1983, shortly after "Temple Of Love" was released, Gunn left the band due to personality conflicts with Eldritch, and was replaced by former Dead Or Alive guitarist Wayne Hussey as the band recorded their first full-length album, First And Last And Always, released in early 1985. Bolstered by outstanding tracks like "Black Planet" and "Walk Away," the album found a receptive audience at home in the UK and became an underground hit here in the States.  They toured in support of the LP, but during the tour Gary Marx quit, blaming an inability to get along with Eldritch (you may notice a pattern emerging here).

Unphased by Marx's departure, Eldritch, Adams, and Hussey went to work on recording their next album, but soon found themselves at odds over which tracks would make the cut.  With a partial album in the can, Adams and Hussey walked out.  The pair intended to rechristen themselves The Sisterhood, but Eldritch beat them to the punch by releasing his own record under that name.  Adams and Hussey then settled on the less provocative name The Mission and began doing their own thing.

Having thwarted the usurping of his band name in any form, Eldritch enlisted bassist Patricia Morrison, formerly of The Gun Club, and in 1987 released the second Sisters Of Mercy album, Floodland. Eldritch may have been difficult to work with, but he sure knew how to make great records!  Floodland was a bit heavier than First And Last And Always, but was every bit as good - if not better.  "This Corrosion" and "Lucretia My Reflection" found regular airplay on college radio and MTV, and were legitimate chart-toppers back home in the UK.  "This Corrosion" remains the best track in The Sisters Of Mercy catalog; a searing rocker that crossed playlists from punk to metal to hard rock with an irresistible "hey now, hey now now" chorus that stays lodged in your brain for days. Brilliant.

Morrison soon went on her way (I'll leave it to you to guess why), and Eldritch went about reassembling his band.  This time he brought in two guitarists, Andreas Bruhn and Tim Bricheno, and enlisted Tommy James (formerly of Generation X and Sigue Sigue Sputnik) to play bass.  Loyal drum machine Doktor Avalanche remained the only "band member" to last with Eldritch from the beginning.  This group issued 1990's Vision Thing LP.  A bit more sprawling and unrestrained (the lead single, "More," runs over eight minutes!) but just as good, the album unfortunately got lost in the dust of a squabble between the band and their record label.  Eldritch soon announced The Sisters Of Mercy were going on strike, and would not record again until WEA released them from their contract.

The label went ahead and issued Some Girls Wander By Mistake, a 1992 import-only collection of the first lineup's singles, but The Sisters Of Mercy held their ground and never recorded again (even though finally in 1997 WEA officially released the band from their contract).  Instead, The Sisters Of Mercy have continued on as a strictly live band - mainly Eldritch and whomever he recruits for each tour.  Over the years they have introduced several new songs in their live sets.  Perhaps one day we'll get a proper collection of them released on CD.

Until then, here are a pair of The Sisters Of Mercy's shining moments:  the first album's "Black Planet" and the magnificent "This Corrosion."  Enjoy!

Six Word Sunday

I am sick of being sick!

Six Word Sunday

Second verse, same as the first.