Cannanes - 'Prototype' (Little Teddy)

This is the Cannanes 7" I pull out most frequently. 'Prototype' is the A-side, a rolling jam that mixes in some feeble horns, semi-heavy electric guitars, and is led by the confident croon of the male singer (I forget his name and no one is credited by name here). It's bouncy and catchy and falls only a few hairs short of 'classic' status - a true anthem of just being. The band still has a strong 80s Brit influence, and if you don't hear it, just close your eyes and imagine 'Prototype' being performed by the Housemartins. Far more amateur, though, without being inept - this is why I like this band. 'Bad Timing' is a Frances-sung tune that bends around a strong electric bassline with glass shard guitars commenting throughout. It's another beaut, simplistic, yeah, but open and honest. 'Der Fuhrender Sydney Rechtsanwalt' is the real departure - another horn driven song, but this time, a murky, melting lounge number. It reeks of 60's Euro-pop, but with the horns all bending out of shape, resulting in a strange trip that's nonetheless adorable. Little Teddy Records, judging from the typewriter-set catalogue inside the sleeve, was a real force in 1993. Remember the Bartlebees? The label still exists, which means they've been releasing music for almost 20 years, some of it surely pretty damn good. Keep on keepin' on -- as to the Cannanes, I guess they're still at it. I saw 'em twice - once when I was about 15 and once again a few years later where I'm pretty sure they stayed at my house. But I don't even remember really.

Cannanes - 'Stumpvision' (Ajax)

A few years ago I made the plunge for one of those "audiophile" turntables (though I assure you, mine is very much entry-level) -- but the kind where you have to lift the platter and move the belt to change the speed. Because putting technology to do this any more easily (like, a switch) would compromise the sound. I may seem sarcastic here, but I actually agree with that. It's just annoying in the case of 7"s like this, which are labeled as being 45 rpms, causing me to go through the hassle of changing speeds -- only to find that it's been mislabeled, and then I have to switch it back. Grrrr. Anyway, this Cannanes single has a pretty weird sound, a bit hollow and empty. Frances Gibson's singing is really distant in the mix - not like she's faraway, but just unconfident. 'Passionfruit' is a rainy day in tweedom but her voice gives it the proper lift. The acoustic strum rings triumphantly throughout this record; on 'Another Fight' (which is a pretty bleak song), the band turns and stops on a dime, using the space between to create a haunting vibe. 'Singing to Satellites' on side 2 is similarly dark, with male vocals this time, and some layered, amped-up echo/chorus guitars. S' O'Neil is credited with playing 'a hundred guitars' but Branca this is not; still it's a pretty big sound for a band that's always struck me as being about small things. The drummer shuffles things along and things are over before you know it. Ajax Records is one of those labels that seemed important to me at some point, but it feels already like a million years ago since they were making any splash. This is 1992, after all.

The C&B - '1991 pre-Shadow Ring recordings' (Siltbreeze)

These early recordings aren't a shock to fans of early Shadow Ring - the same broken songforms and production techniques that characterise their first few LPs are audible on these four tunes. 'Kent Custer' (which contains the lyric 'shadow ring') is built around household percussive flopping and a a repetitive, dumb 3-note acoustic messriff. It's practically 'City Lights', but it's actually the C&B, which was short for The Cat and Bells Club. There's some tapework but not much interest in dark, searing electronics or the strange collages that exemplify later work by these guys, but that's okay. As a strategy against cohesion, 'Cave of Ice Cats' is unparalleled. I've never been to Folkestone but I can envision a dingy, cold room where these two kids were sitting around a dictaphone bashing about, the stale smell of old cigarette smoke clinging to everything. The audio dropouts are very much an essential component of this 7", but the volume dips and the tape decimation that gives the acoustic guitar such a thin, broken tone. 'Father's Dead' tells the story you'd expect while someone makes sandwiches. We hear a glimpse of terrestrial TV in the background while Harris tells his tale, and there's maybe a bit more of a sense of traditional spoken performance here than we'd ever get later (think 'Lighthouse'!) I'm so, so glad that this came out though the contents aren't surprising in any way whatsoever. Torches forward for the future, or what the future was from here.

Blumfeld - 'Draußen auf Kaution/Jet Set' (Big Cat)

Moody, mid-90s German indie-rockers Blumfeld made a pretty great album, if I remember it, and then faded into obscurity. At least in my tunnel vision world! I don't speak a word of their language so I have no idea what they are singing about, but 'Draußen auf Kaution' is a dramatic, mid-tempo guitar jam that reminds me a bit of what everyone was trying to do in 1995. There's arpeggiated guitar lines slowly unfolding, slow building vocals and a darkly-inflected instrumental buildup at the end of the song. Hints of Slint's "Washer" for sure, but that's unavoidable. No, it's the grooves of 'Jet Set' on side B -- actually labeled as side AA -- that I've worn out on this record. A fast, energetic thrasher with spoken/shouted lyrics, this is why I got into Blumfeld. There's a resemblance to the Fall, or maybe Moss Icon since they aren't as sloppy or lackadaisical as the Fall -- there's a real spark behind this, a statement of direction that you'd only get with some pissed off Germans. Again, maybe they are just singing about their breakfast or train timetables, but it's enough to have me hopping up and down for the past 15 years.

The Better Automatic (Resin)

Out of the three main blogs here (for LPs, CDs and 7"s), I think this 7" one is probably the most fun. The LPs and CDs I keep pretty 'clean', as I freak out pretty much annually and sell/toss things. But 7"s get away with murder - I don't notice what I have, often forgetting about them entirely -- and thus you get weird records like this, which I have carted around with me for 10+ years now. The Better Automatic are a now-forgotten band from Washington, DC who I think I set up a show for in 1998. When they came through they were a fun, lively mod-pop band (or at least that's how I remember them). This 7"s downplays melodic hooks in favor of punchy, more shouty vocals and anthemic guitar pricks. It's almost impossible for me to listen to this without thinking of Fugazi, but not because of the DC connection - because the vocalist sounds exactly like Guy Piccioto and the songwriting resembles 'Margin Walker' more than a little. That's not to say that these songs about Buckmister Fuller and sock monkeys are without their charm - and I can see the 17-year-old me getting really excited about this - but listening now, it's just begging to be forgotten. I don't know why they reminded me of the Jam live - maybe they changed sounds after this 7" came out, or maybe my memory is just extremely faulty. I also realise that this is the type of record I should be digitising and uploading MP3s of.... this project decided not to do that, because otherwise I'd end up digitising my entire record collection and that's way more labour than I'm willing to commit to. But what's the point of reading my poorly-written 3 sentence review of this band if you can't hear it yourself? I highly doubt anyone else out there is gonna be ripping this. So, if you really want to hear The Better Automatic, comment here and maybe in the new year I'll get to it. (oh, how promising!)

Bent Leg Fatima - 'Mouse b/w Crow, Cat & Snake' (Lounge)

This two-song, 33rpm single is Bent Leg Fatima's vinyl debut (I guess), and a bit of fun if you haven't just listened to the LP, like I did. But, if you are going to distill a great LP into two of its best songs and put out a single before the album comes out, I guess these are two great choices. I can't tell how different these recordings or pressings are - I'd like to say that 'Mouse's organs have a bit more room to breathe here than on the LP, but I can't really say that with confidence. Things do crescendo here and the cymbals threaten to overwhelm, but the band holds tight and the poor mouse has nowhere else to go. 'Crow, Cat & Snake' mellows it out a bit, though you'd think those animals would be fighting each other like maniacs. It's a deep Philly groove, not an ass-shaker but a headscratcher. Though it falls into mellow indie-keyboard territory, I do like the way the bass guitar, electric guitar and keys fall in and out of phase with each other - its an old trick to kick some trippyness into 4/4, but it works well. (I'm not oblivious to the idea that these instruments represent the animals of the title, in which case guitar is crow). The URL printed on the sleeve (www.voicenet.com/~lounge) is long dead (2004, according to the Wayback machine at archive.org) and I think we can assume the same about Lounge Records. I couldn't find images for this or the LP online which might put this band at the perfect cusp of pre-Internet saturation (1997-98, the golden years, eh?).

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.