Local Music
The 45 came to the AGENDA office in a plain, almost generic mailing envelope simply marked: "Attention: The View From Nowhere." Inside, the seven-inch single sleeve was cheap typing paper with crude rubber-stamped markings on one side - Uprising Records - and the mysterious name: Universal Indians. Both names were sky blue in color and framed in the seven-inch square block. The information had the appearance of emptiness, starkness and detachment.
The flipside of the sleeve was the same whiteness except for a three-by-three-inch watercolor on paper, cut and glued to the center of the packaging. With off-white, fleshtones and a hint of blue and yellow/green, the effect was not unlike an Oriental watercolor from the 1800s.
I took the record from the sleeve. Black vinyl with the record company name, the band name - Universal Indians - and nothing more, save the two song titles. The label was again blue, with white lettering - the kind that you don't have to pay extra for at the record pressing plant. I got out the 45 adapter and popped it on the turntable.
Side one exploded from the speakers. "Freak By Nature" the label read and if there was ever truth in packaging, this was it. This wasn't just a "sheet of sound" as the cliché goes but a fullscale military invasion of noise, angst and intensity. Imagine if you can the Velvet Underground's Sister Ray taken one step over the edge, the beauty of amps tumed up to the breaking point, with touches of REM-ish folk chords on acid.
The recording is crude (done with two V-Tech microphones and a 1960s-era Rodgers reel-to-reel tape recorder), raw and painful, but that only adds to the artistic powers at work. Vocals are buried and it's impossible to understand ANY of the lyrics or if the vocalist is a man or a woman or a machine.
The flip, "Bought and Sold," is a little more low-key with more feedback, a Patti Smith overtone/voice to the lyrics (again the listener hasn't a clue of what is being spoken or sung, but it does not matter), and a John Coltrane sort of ending that falls into complete chaos by the tune's end.
This is big noise, with touches of melody and an artistic originality the likes of which l've never heard before. If you thought Morsel or WIG were a little too middle-of-the-road, easy listening for you, this single was made for your listening pleasure. Universal Indians is not a band record companies will get into a bidding war over any time soon, this is true. But who cares?
After the blast/rush of Universal Indians, it was nice to relax to the new Salt Chunk Mary single "Screaming Weasels by Rubber Legs" on Deep Red Records. Recorded at the legend-in-the-making White Rose Studios, this duo of metal grunge punk/pop tunes is Motor City-bred guitar rhythms that mixes structured guitar feedbacks with good songwriting. While it's wonderful to hear a singer screaming away at the one word chorus (Weasel....Weasel...) and the raw garageness of the two guitar/bass/drum, what stands out here is the songwriting. While it's not the "Monkees-meet-Zeppelin teen angst" the band claims In their press kit (now that would be cool...), it's still great rock and roll.
Caught a couple of hot sets from Jerry Mack and his hot-as-hell Terraplanes on a recent Friday night at the newly rockin' Crow Bar on Main Street The band looked cramped on the tiny stage but the music was anything but that. Rockin' American roots music that sounds so perfect while downing a beer, Mack and the boys deserve more weekend night gigs besides their Blind Pig blues jams every Sunday. While The Terraplanes were boppin' the blues, it was painfully obvious and no fault of the band what a truly horrible place the Crow Bar is to check out soulful music. With all the warmth of an airplane hanger and liquor company "girls"/reps trying to sell shots of Jack Daniels whiskey with T-shirt giveaways (The View From Nowhere would never make a value judgment on anyone trying to make an honest living...), it was about as far from a juke joint as you could get.
Borax, that cartoonish, demon-powered powerpunk r&r guerilla band of musical terrorists, has finally released on full-length CD, "Kinky Krunchy Porno Monkey" on the Throbbing Cop label and if you're talking the Monkees-meets-the Stooges-for-a-good-time, Borax is the band for you. This collect on of 24 tunes both kicks ass (the guitars have a "clean" studio sound while playing dangerous chords much more so than most neighbor hood garage outfits influenced by the Sex Pistols or the Necros) in a pop sort of way while making the audience roll in the aisles with laughter at the Lyrics. Every track is a winner, but my favorite, "Goin' To Detroit," is both a classic rock and roll anthem and a rejection of the upscale, monied mecca that cities much like A2 have become. "Goin' to Detroit and l'm never coming back.. .Goin' to Detroit and l'm never comin' back...". But for now, Borax ranks as one of Ann Arbor's best rock and roll entertainment ensembles.
The debut three-song cassette from the funky Butterfly is enough evidence I need this is going to be one amazing bar/dance band once the word gets out. While their gig at the Green Room makes sense (on Friday April 12th), Butterfly seems more at home in a packed smoky club with a crowd of beer drinking dancers, boppin' the night away. With members from a wide range of now defunct (or de-funk) groups like Reggae Ambassada and Uncle Chunk, Butterfly seems equally comfortable with Prince-influenced seduction attempts (on "Deliverance"), Bob Marley-lovers rock on "Love Is True," and your general dance-club blend on "What You Give Is What You Get." Butterfly is a group to watch....
Send your comments to: The View From Nowhere, AGENDA 220 S. Main Street, Ann Arbor, Ml. 48104 or email to ALANNARBOR-AOL.COM.