Extra Glenns - 'Infidelity' (Harriet)

Oh, to yearn for times past. Harriet Records! The innocence of this all - John Darnielle and Franklin Bruno coming together for three perfect songs, as perfect as anything else Darnielle penned at this fertile time. 'Infidelity' is elegant in its minimalism, capturing that wobbly experience just perfectly with the classic chorus 'I let my hand rest a minute on your stomach / like there was nothing to it'. 'Going to Lubbock' is the sleeper, but Bruno's arrangements, backup vocals and second guitar bring a mild arpeggiated complexity to the chorus that hadn't yet been seen in any Mountain Goats materials of the time. And then the flip - the glorious 'Malevolent Cityscape X', which sounds like an outtake of something from the Peter Jefferies/Alastair Galbraith scene, with it's backwards, sinewy electric guitar line ripping over the verses. It all comes clear for the passionate, practically shouted chorus. It's one of the most perfect few minutes of music Darnielle ever has laid to vinyl (or tape or plastic); it's erupting, wild and yet still recognisable, even iconic. In 1993 nothing could stop this. By repeating the word 'perfect', can I make it clear enough how much I love this record?

Elf Power - 'The Winter Hawk' (Kindercore)

I remember Elf Power. I remember seeing them, even them staying at my house, liking them, both this 7" and their first full-length.... but I don't remember anything about what they sounded like. This isn't to say they were forgettable, but I guess I forgot them. (I do remember them covering Eno's 'Needles in the Camel's Eye' live, and it was pretty good). This is their debut 7"; they were led by a really lovely guy named Bryan Helium, and were affiliated with the Elephant 6 label, though perhaps in a second-tier setting. This is a nice record; post-R.E.M. jangle (they were from Athens, after all), some violin playing, and a warbly clarinet opens things up with 'Grand Intrusion Call'; 'Heroes and Insects' goes for a dirgy, almost doom-like instrumental approach before some trebly strumming lightens it up. This seems a million miles away from the catchy Beatlesisms of the Olivias, until the B-side comes with the title track. This is more like it, "it" being that lackadaisical indie-pop sound that I still associate with the Kindercore label. Vocal harmonies and some recorder (or melodica, or something) makes this easy and light, but still not particularly 'catchy'. It's a pretty mixed bag, this 7", and stronger than I remember it - let's face it, I don't remember anything - and maybe its diversity is the explanation. The closing cut, the impeccably titled 'Exalted Exit Wound', takes things out on a fuzz+acoustic combo, instrumental again, and reminding me a bit of 'Here Come the Warm Jets' (the song), again an Eno connection. 

Eat Skull - 'Jerusalem Mall' (Woodsist)

Coming off their great second album, I expected more from 'Jerusalem Mall', the song, which (if you're gonna command the A-side alone) should deliver more punch. Overall, this 7" feels like a bit of Eat Skull's different sides. My preference is for the fun, poppy stuff, represented here by the 7"s best track, 'Don't Leave Me on the Speaker'. Unlike 'Jerusalem Mall' this sounds bright, with the guitars working in a style that is melodically ramshackle instead of discordantly ramshackle. 'Thank you! Smokebreaks' is a fast punker along the 'Nuke Mecca' lines from Wild and Inside; fun, sure, but I think these work better on the longform player where there's a lot more meat in the sandwich. 

Cheveu/Tyvek split 7" (S-S)

Cheveu's side ('El Tortuga') is more of the same, but that's a good thing. The drum programming is a bit more interesting and these guys manage to work a bit of texture into some very narrow confines. It's a bit less distinct, melodically , than some of the album faves, but it has a thundering chorus and the guitars really ring out despite the lo-fi origins. Tyvek's track 'Future Junk' is a frantically strummed rave-up with vocalist Kevin extremely high in the mix. The most interesting part is the jam-out ending, where the guitars start fracturing and spitting all over themselves. The synth player is a bit buried but I guess Tyvek know what kind of mix they want. It's kinda blood and guts except I suspect these guys are actually pretty nerdy. There's a lock groove at the end of their side which functions as an awkward false ending. The whole thing is over in a blink (both sides), which is how it's supposed to be.

Car Commercials - 'Jar' (Leaf Leaf)

This is the debut slab of fucked-upness from these Jersey boys, and one that obviously resonated with me enough that I felt compelled to collect their discography. But how could I not, after hearing 'Holland's anthemic rush? Rock and roll lives, and this is a riff for the ages, and when it descends into bridge made up of an aimless arpeggio, muttering and other shrieking before rocking out on a total jam ... well, it's up there with the greatest rock mindmelds in the canon. And I'm not saying "this is a clever deconstruction of the greatest rock songs ever", I'm saying that this is one of the greatest rock songs ever, and who gives a shit about deconstruction? ( I bet they don't). My accolades aren't meant to diminish the accomplishments of the other 3 tracks here, all of which are previews of their future work. 'Make Me See Joanne' is a plodding, introspective trail that leads nowhere, and 'Water' is an exploratory introduction that is charmingly pastoral at moments, with hints of the walkman-fuckery we get later. 'Rest Stop' closes things out, a ballad of beyond-the-bridge strumming and naievely stupid narrating. This is still their best record, but isn't that always how it goes?

Beltbuckle (Sonic Bubblegum)

Sometime in 1993, a now-forgotten Massachusetts label with a Bazooka Joe ripoff logo put out this 4 song EP. It was a bit of a Massachusetts supergroup, being a songwriting partnership between Lou Barlow (of Sebadoh) and Eric Matthews (of Cardinal and a generally under-the-radar solo career). The glue holding it together is Bob Fay, who later would perform in both Cardinal and Sebadoh. But strangely this slips through the cracks of history despite its total excellence. 'Judas Suicide' sets the pace with three distinct sections, merging hypnotic teenage angst with cult-like devotion. Maybe I'm just timewarping back to high school but I'm still a bit shocked at how natural this sounds despite the mood shifts. My eyes wideneds and ears tingled as I clutched my Mexican Telecaster, with this dubbed to my Walkman. Do kids still feel this way anymore or has the digital Myspace era taken all of that away? 'Pocket Skylab Love' mines some territory not far from My Dad is Dead, but with a somewhat more home-spun feel, if possible. But the gem is side two track one -- 'Mary Hair'. Early 90's indierock songwriting rarely hits such magical peaks -- 'King of the roadtrip, no defrocking' and the Beastie Boys are there, and despite fart jokes and cheapass distortion pedals, this is my adolescence captured in a two minute song. Actually, it's what I thought my post-adolescence could be. I was wrong as hell, but I'm thankful for the goal. 'Girl Who Reads' rounds it out with a bit of aggression, like Tar meeting 'God Told Me' from Sebadoh III. These days I only give two shits about Lou Barlow when revisiting this 91-93 New England-centric period -- but this may be my single favorite entry in his discography. Eric Matthews is mostly relegated to background vocals (w/Fay) but I think he certainly had a hand in crafting 'Mary Hair'. The Cardinal LP (an equally awesome project, particularly because the partner is the incredibly singular talent of Richard Davies) found an audience after all these years, getting a deluxe CD reissue. I don't know where this Beltbuckle EP will end up in in the narrative continuum since it's just a tossed off side-project, but for something tossed off, there's an incredible unity in the songwriting.

Azucar / Noggin split (Sweet Baboo)

Almost four months of limbo while we waited for LPs and CDs to catch up, but welcome back! I'm not sure how this ended up in my 7" accumulation, but it's a fun little treasure. The side which is Azucar (I THINK - they are unlabeled) is a meandering instrumental gem of piano, guitar and violin. It's tender and melodic but continually falling apart and picking itself back up. It's kinda in the vein of one of those indie-classical groups like Rachel's, only if they were afflicted by Parkinson's disease. Whoever they were, they came from Brunswick, NJ, always a home of anti-aesthetic weirdos. Could today's gang of BoneToothHorn rascals be somehow affiliated? But from the West coast, Noggin take a different approach to the violin: manic and lo-fi, dancing around the perimeter of utter beauty but also falling away from it. It's like Malcolm Goldstein put through the laundry machine a few times - on the cold/cold cycle. This was 1996; I can only think about how this would have been received ten years earlier or ten years later. Records like this make me love the 7" format - a slice of visionary weirdness, eternally reproducible in a way the CD-R won't be. Will tomorrow's centurions of the obscure dedicate their bandwidth to finding out just who (or what) Azucar were (or was)?