The Life - Alone Deluxe Edition

Speaking of lost treasures!

How the world managed to close their ears to the chiming guitar post-new wave of The Life back in the '80's is really one of the world's mysteries.  Named the best Northwest band in 1987, The Life occupied a rare space in Seattle music history.  They weren't new wave, they weren't grunge.  What they were was brilliantly composed powerpop with a madman guitarist who could propel songs with the vibrancy of his Edge-inspired playing.  Alone originally was released in 1987 to critical praise and world-wide indifference.  Seattle just wasn't the musical nexus of the world yet.   So the album vanished without a trace.  A follow up album, Witness the Will, was recorded but never released.  The band broke up.  The Life became road dust on the rock n roll highway.

Until now.

Tom Dyer, the eccentric genius who runs Green Monkey Records, has remastered and re-released Alone in all of its glory with the complete 17 track previously unreleased Witness the Will included as a bonus disc.  An amazing collection of Life.

So what's it sound like?

Again, get past thoughts of Seattle as the birthplace of grunge.  The Life took their cue from such post-punk bands as U2, The Silencers, and the Alarm.  Big, resounding, chiming guitars, soaring melodies, and anthemic hook-em chorus.  Just one listen to opener "If it Works (Don't Fix it)" and you'll get an idea of everything this band stands for -- bristling energy, big guitars and even bigger chops.  Most importantly, while clearly taking inspiration from U2 and the Edge, The Life don't ape them.  They simply fit right onto the same bill; as effortlessly and honestly as any American band I've ever heard who play that style of music.  Add to their pristine sound, a slightly darkened edge and a little depravity and we really got something.  Singer Jimm McIver isn't above roughening up his sweet tenor with guttural roars and the occasional punky wail.   Meanwhile, deceased guitar firebrand, Tony Bortko was infamous for being a loose cannon, who'd spit on members of the audience if they looked at him wrong.

Now, I'd already had The Life in my collection before Green Monkey had re-released Alone.  Long ago, after hearing two tracks from The Life on the Green Monkey Sampler album, It Crawled from the Basement, I simply had to have the album.  Through a little diligence, I tracked down a copy on eBay and it was everything I'd hoped for.  Still, as a fan, how could I not be excited about this Deluxe reissue with the entire unreleased second album included?

So, back to the music, shall we.  Alone stands . . .er . . . alone as a perfectly crystallized moment of shimmering powerpop perfection.  Each track, just as tuneful as the prior, each held together by the mesmerizing guitar work of Bortko and McIver's vaguely Bono-esque voice.  And let's don't forget the contributions of Casey Allen on bass and Eric Lichter on drums who keep everything running straight on line.   "Love by the Wayside," is another pristine example and a stark slap in the face of world-wide radio that they never picked this song up.  Bortko's guitar simply goes wherever it wants in glistening, radiant runs.  McIver keeps his voice mostly in check except when he needs to burst out, bringing just the right emotion to the song.  The band is tight.  The melody infections.  The chorus memorable.  Many will reflect on the U2 qualities of the song, but to me, The Life always sounded a bit more The Silencers, than U2, but still . . there it is.

So Alone is simply one of my favorite "unknown" albums.   The question then is what's Witness the Will like and is it worth the fuss?   And the answer is . . .oh yeah.  Song's like "Down" sound even bigger than anything on Alone.  More epic.  Grander.  This is lost arena rock of the '80's in the best sense of the world.  Way too big for a small basement Seattle club.  "Bridge of Bones," is the same.  Simply a huge song in the best of the U2 tradition.  "A Broken Man," busts out into a powerpop jangle-vibe of punchy guitars and perfect melodies.  "The Dead" is angry and dark and heavy with its tribal drum and detuned guitars.  "The Empty Space," rocks with an unbridled Plimsouls'-like abandon.

Conclusion:  One of the great unheard albums in rock was immediately followed-up by one of the great unreleased albums in rock.

If you're a powerpop fan, or a fan of the chiming guitar pop of the late '80's, you've got a treat awaiting you. I got mine already.   Go to Green Monkey and get yours.

--Racer

www.greenmonkeyrecords.com/

What's Up With the Green Monkey?: Featuring The Green Pajamas, and Sigourney Reverb

About a year or two back, I became enamored with a defunct Seattle indy label called Green Monkey Records.   Issuing a string of cassettes, then vinyl, then CD's in the mid-80's to early '90's, Green Monkey occupied a rare space between the death of the new wave scene and the birth of grunge in Seattle musical history.  And what a label they were!  With a hearty sense of humor and a 6 foot tongue planted firmly in their over-sized cheek, Green Monkey released seemingly incongruent, occasionally random singles and albums from a circus full of performers.   An oxymoron wrapped up in a mad genius of creativity, Green Monkey found some incredibly rare ground by releasing bands that could only be defined as quirk rock, yet were great musicians and took their music very seriously.  Even as they laughed.

Bands like The Icons, The Green Pajamas, The Life, and The Queen Anne's jumped off the retrospective compilation CD that found it's way to my desk.  I became obsessed, scouring eBay for any original releases I could find.  Not every one followed up on the promise hinted at by the cuts on the compilation, but many exceeded it.  A very cool label that did things their own way, completely independent and completely mad.

Imagine my bursting heart of joy then when Tom Dyer, the Wizard of Oz-Monkey wrote to tell me the label was reforming, reissuing some of it's back catalog and, yes, releasing fresh new Green Monkey music.  Had time passed Green Monkey by?  Would they still sound as ironically fresh today as 20+ years ago?  Who could tell.  But I waited, and finally, Green Monkey's first few new releases started crawling through my doors.

The Green Pajamas - The Complete Book of Hours

I've reviewed the Green Pajamas before and their EP, the heartbreaking Red, Red Rose.  I've written about Jeff Kelly before and his solo album, Ash Wednesday.  I kind of knew what to expect here; perfectly constructed post-Beatles pop.  But still, I'd never heard the Green Monkey's 1986 first full album, Book of Hours before.  Here expanded with the inclusion of numerous tracks that appeared on various incarnations of the album as it was released and re-released by record labels around the world, Green Monkey has compiled the "Complete" Book of Hours and set it loose upon an unsuspecting population.  And it's everything I'd hoped it would be.  Definite retro-Beatles hooks mixed with some wry post-Paisley Underground psychedelia, all wrapped up in sweet pastry of unmitigated quirk.   What caught me by surprise was some of the tougher, garage-y aspects of the band, like the charging "Paula", the rough and tumble, garage funk, "Big Surprise" and the spartan, Jonathan Richman and the Modern Lovers raunch of "Higher than I've Been."

What I did expect was the smooth as fresh ice psych pop perfection of "The First Rains of September,"  the grand orchestrated Beatlesmania of "Under the Observatory," the near-whimsical beauty of "The Night Miss Sundby Died", and the is a slice of timeless pop perfection that is "Ten Thousand Words."  If you're a fan of slightly offbeat, psych pop, you've found a new (old) friend here.

The Green Pajamas - Green Pajama Country

So, after the mournful Red, Red Rose and the release of the retro-looking The Complete Book of Hours, what do the Green Pajamas do for their first new release in 2011?   Another paisley-painted pop dalliance?   A Lennon and McCartney-flavored slice of life disc?  Nope, Jeff Kelly and the crew don 10-gallon cowboy hats, rally up the covered wagons and head out to the wild frontier with Green Pajama Country.  And country it is, full on old-school Hank Williams/Johnny Cash flavored country with twang and strumming and nary a "new country" anthem in sight.  And, probably not to surprisingly, the crew manage to pull it off without it sounding like a gimmick or a fad or a jump onto any imaginary bandwagon.

"Pass Me Another Whiskey" swings with a darkened authentic country tone while still maintaining that classic Green Pajamas vibe.  Sure, it's country but it could just as easily have appeared on any other Green Pajamas album, and I mean that in a good way.  A jangle to the guitar, some beautiful vocals and memorable hooks.  Yep, that the Green Pajamas.  But that all changes immediately with the country guitar twang of "You Had a Way About You."   Now we're full-on into Green Pajama country a place where languid summer days pass while you're passing the time chewing on a piece of grass, settling into the shade of a lone oak tree, and strumming that beat up six-string.  "Honky Tone Girls" keeps the vibe alive with some down home harmonica and footstomping beating going on.  "Last Night was Like the End of the World," alternates again towards more familiar Green PJ's territory but still with a firm western flavor.   And it all works.  I'm not the biggest fan of country or twang, but this all works as a somehow logical next Green PJ's album.  The melodies, the hooks, the pop smarts, it's all still there, covered with a layer of trail dust, a broken heart and a cowboy longing for a warm body and a drink.  Fun stuff.

Sigourney Reverb - Bees in Your Bed

Quirk rock.  Did I say quirk rock?  Yep, I said it.  Did I also mention that I really can't stand most quirk rock?  It just seems to clever for it's own good, to self-conscious in trying to be different.  Too willing to sacrifice good music for unnecessary time changes, strange instrumentation, and random bizarreness.  Sure, it may be created in the spirit of experimental imagination, but that doesn't mean I want to listen to it.

So imagine my surprise when I not only found myself listening to Sigourney Reverb's album, but digging it.  I don't mean just digging it, but really digging it.  Yeah, it's quirk rock, there's no doubt there, but it's amped up and pumped up with a healthy X-like sense of punk urgency and Pixies aggression.  Its doesn't just quirk, it rocks.  It punks.  It actually frightens just a little.  And that's good.

The one-sheet with the CD describes the album as 14 songs, 12 of which have hooks.  Opener "Cabin of Hour Dreams" is one of the non-hook ones, a cacophony of noise and yodeling and stuttering guitars and a garbage disposal beat.  Didn't bring me in but luckily "Who's Yer Muse?" came only 1:44 later and introduced me to the beauty of the band.  This is punk, and with the male-female alternating vocals, I can't help think about X.  It charges, it barely contains itself.  It speeds off to somewhere only they know where, but it does it well, with fun and passion.  And a hook.  Great stuff.  From then on, (once I grasped what the album was about) it's a winner all the way through.

--Racer

A Sunday Conversatin with Green Monkey Records

Don't get me wrong.  It's not that I'm jaded, but having been doing this Ripple thing for the better part of three years, I've heard a lot of music come through the Ripple doors.  And while a good chunk of that music's been pretty good, not much of it has been surprising. Most of it just fits nicely into the preconceived notions of genre and category.  That was until the Green Monkey Anthology came through my door.  To put it bluntly, I expected one thing and got another thing entirely.


And what I got was good.  Very good.  Garage, psych, powerpop.  Keen original post punk pop the likes of which went right to my happy zone.


With that, it was only a matter of time before we had to get Tom Dyer, the main monkey, to stop by the Ripple office, plop on down on the red leather couch and spill the beans on all things green and monkey.

You detail the entire history of Green Monkey Records in the insert of your excellent CD anthology, but for our readers, let's refresh.  How did you get started running an independent record label?

Well, traditionally there are two main ways people start labels. Either as business to make some dough off artists or as artists to get their skwak out. Occasionally there is something in between. For me it was definitely case #2. I was a late bloomer. Though always a music lover and a singer of sorts, I didn’t start playing guitar until I was 25. Had an art/punk band in Seattle around 1980 that was pretty cool in a tortured sort of way that really didn’t get too far – couple demos –but enough to convince me I needed recording gear. Did a bunch of one-man-band (me) recording and started recording my friends’ bands. By ’83 I had enough stuff of my own and other peoples’ that wasn’t getting put out anywhere I decided to start putting it out. Green Monkey was born and the next level of personal entertainment was up and running.


What motivated you? Did you tap into a particular local scene or were you aiming to capture a sound?

We were mostly limited to the sound we could get by the kind of gear that we used and the dinky studio space I had. That said, there was and is now an esthetic to my work. I have always had a greater leaning toward dissonance than your average American. When we were kids my brother bough Beatles and I bought Stones. When I was 17-18 it was all about Trout Mask Replica (drove my mom nuts). Later I was more interested in Ornette and Coltrane than Miles (Miles is great!), way more interested in Harry Partch and Stockhausen than Beethoven (z-z-z-z) and at one point I definitely wanted John Lee Hooker to be my personal savior. He was a guitar genius and had an even cooler voice than Johnny Cash.

Back in the 80’s when I had a little 8-track studio, I mostly got my clients word-of-mouth. Some of them like The Hitmen or the Fallouts became GMR artists for a while. Some folks I sought out like the Green Pajamas (after I bought their cassette) or The Life (got told about ‘em). Some would send me stuff like Glass Penguins that I liked and we would try to get something done on the cheap. I think the music we put out at that point was fairly inconsistent stylistically. It was just whatever was around that I liked.

I will say that over time there is a certain sound to my work that moves beyond the gear. It has something to do with intent and will.

Which was your first release?

GM001 Local Product (various artists) and GM002 Tom Dyer – Truth or Consequences were released simultaneously in ‘83, in a no doubt calculated manner to seem more important than we actually were. Both were totally recorded on Tascam 2340 4 track reel to reel with a little 6 channel Tapco board, a spring reverb, an analog delay and crappy mikes. We were totally living. We could overdub for crissakes! Kids in the Garage Band world have no way to understand how totally fucking cool that was to be able to do at that point.  Put ‘em out on cassette – 150 copies each – off to the big time.



Who's been your biggest selling artist to date?

The Green Pajamas by a mile. Book of Hours by the PJs is the top seller at around 5 thousand copies worldwide. It was released in the US, Germany, Greece and Australia – each version with different tracks. I just reissued it on CD after 24 years with all the tracks from every version, plus an unreleased track. Made me very happy. Still work with Jeff Kelly (PJ #1). I think he is doing brilliant stuff at the present.



There's so much to learn about running a label, share with us some of the lessons you've learned along the way.

Well, lesson one is it was always hard to get paid and still is. I became pretty conscious of cash flow back when as it really became difficult to keep funding the next project. I think it is a lot easier to get your music out to an audience in the internet age, but don’t kid yourself – it’s still work. As Andy Warhol said, it’s all about work. I like to work. I like to do things that I think have artistic merit. I think the trick is to know what you want to do and not get too sidetracked by all the silly extra stuff that will suck up all your time.



What's been your label's high point? Low point?

Two high points, one low point. First hight point, 1987 when we did the Green Pajamas - Book of Hours and The Life - Alone. It felt like we were in the verge of something in regards to commercial success. Wasn’t able to get it to go to the next step, which led to the low point, ’91 or so. It had become a chore. At that point I had put so much time and energy into it with diminishing returns, I was a dad, needed to back off, make a living and take care of life. Had to let it go.

Second highlight is now. I am at a place in my life I can do this at a level that I find satisfying. I am putting out my music and other peoples’ music I like. I don’t really care if somebody thinks it is crap or not, it is just what I am doing and I will let it get to whatever level it can get to.

What's inspired you to jump back into the ring and relaunch the label?

In the period after the initial output, I went back to school, got my bachelors, masters and doctorate while working full-time and raising kids. I never stopped recording (thus Songs From Academia, Vols. 1 & 2), but it was a lot smaller part of my life. Have my doctorate, have a job, kids are out of the house. Time to rock. Beside my gig as president of a small college, this is mostly what I do with my time nowadays.


The music industry has changed significantly since the pre-grunge days?  What changes have you seen and how are you approaching dealing with this changes?

Obviously the biggest change is the internet. It used to be that record companies were the filter to decide what was “good music” – people that were too crummy couldn’t make records. That started changing with the whole DIY thing in the 80’s – then the internet blew it up. Record labels don’t matter anymore. Anybody can get their music in front of the world. The filters used to be at the front – can you get stuff released – now they are at the end – how do you differentiate yourself from the 2 million crummy bands on MySpace. It is about reviews, PR, social networking and as always playing live, which by the way, I rarely do.

 

What changes do you see ahead for the music industry?

Well, the death of plastic seems pretty inevitable. There is still a shrinking market for CDs and vinyl, but your average person is pretty happy with their iPod and that seems irreversible.

On a more musical note, I see no more significant changes in popular music. Ever.

In the 20th century music changed as the technology to make it changed. First, there was the ability to record music. Changed everything, Then the ability to overdub made it possible to record music you could not perform live. Then the electric guitar changed everything again, making sounds that were previously impossible to make. Analog synthesis created the last batch of new timbres that popular music would require. Digital sampling was the final piece, as the hip hop guys brought John Cage’s notion that all sounds have musical validity to the mainstream.

In the past technological change in making sounds drove new music. I do not think there are any significant departures left on the kind of sounds that can be made. We can make them all.

I think what you have going forward is simply differing combinations of styles – personalization. Jazz is a great example. It runs a progressive course from New Orleans Jazz in the early century and by the end of the 60’s it has hit avant garde squawking and fusion. Sweet to scratchy – all been done. Everybody in jazz now works somewhere within that range. No place new left to go.

By the way, I hope I am completely wrong about this.

What's the biggest challenge facing you today as an independent label?

Just finding time to get things done. I’m pretty much a 1 ½ person operation. If I had greater ambitions there would be larger challenges, but at this point I am pretty happy to put things out at small but consistent level and let thing go where they go.



Are you working now primarily with your old catalog of artists?  Will you be looking for new artists?

My plan is to do a few things.

First, put out my own TD music. I’ve mostly got the old stuff out that I want out, so from here on it will be pretty much new. Second, is to re-release old catalog, just cuz I think it is great stuff that should be heard. Third is to put out new music from some old GMR folks, mostly Jeff Kelly/Green Pajamas, but we’ll see. Fourth is to put out completely new stuff by people that I’ve never done anything with. I’ve got a new band, Sigourney Reverb, that I like and may do some stuff with.

As time goes on I expect I will shift out of old stuff entirely. It will be all done. Probably take a few years though.



Are you a club rat, constantly searching live venues for cool acts?

Nope. Never was, always was a record guy. If I go out and see a band, it is very deliberate; I know about them from hearing something and check it out.



What are you looking for now?

The ecstatic experience. Music that makes me feel. Someone that can replace John Lee Hooker as my personal savior.



What would you like to see happen for the future of the music industry and your label in particular?

Well, I am of course perfectly fine with becoming an international superstar and having Jeff Kelly be bigger than Lady Gaga.

As for the industry, I think the decentralization of popular music that is ongoing is an unstoppable trend. I think digital music is here to stay, but I think due to increase storage crappy MP3s will go away.



Any final words for our waveriders?

Buy all our stuff. It’s better than everybody else’s.

Jeff Kelly – Ash Wednesday Rain

Jeff Kelly and I are very different people.

I remember being 10 years old, just waiting for the slow days of summer to end so I could go back to school. Yes, I was one of those.  I’d spend free days in August reading encyclopedias, from page 1 on.  That’s how much I wanted to learn.  School, to me, was an opportunity, hotly anticipated.  Old friends to see, new wonders to learn, new teachers to torment, rules to break, suspensions to avoid.  I was such an odd mix of good student and authority rebel, that the Principal (who’s office I’d spent many hours in, explaining myself) audibly grunted his displeasure when I won the “Best All Around Student” Award in 6th grade.   Damn, that made my day.

Jeff’s experience was totally different, as he makes so painfully clear in his remarkable, mournful song “Shadow Classrooms.”  Against the refined strains of a strummed guitar and Hammond organ, Jeff reveals the ancient pain locked inside him all these years.  The dread of that first school day approaching, the laughing schoolgirls, the undying wish to disappear.  His yearning, strained voice expels his fears as he sings, “Summer’s gone/Winter’s waiting/Icy school rooms fill my brain/they lie in wait/there’s no escaping/please forget me/please forget me and my name.”   The song is so drenched in honest neurosis that it’s impossible not to get completely wrapped up in this young kid's drama, driving off to school, “I don’t wanna/I don’t wanna/I don’t ever wanna be young again.”  Hammond organ flourishes bring on massive waves of shyness and anxiety.  Truly remarkable.

But that’s not the only difference between me and Jeff.  Jeff has talent.  Amazing talent.  The ability to create a seemingly endless stream of somber melodies, wrapped in sorrow, stripped bare to the chilliest bone of exposure.  Every nerve is laid bare, every pain left open.

As songwriter/singer with the Green Pajamas, Jeff's storytelling is more in the tradition of remarkable British songwriters like Ray Davies than most American writers.  He comes across as a mix of Robin Hitchock and John Lennon.  He carries Hitchcock’s sense for the off-beat bizarre in his topics and frequent whimsy, but always keeps it contained in songs that are infinitely catchy, with more than a hint of Beatles-esque craft.  The Lennon also appears in his voice which yearns in the truest sense of the word, straining through those impeccable melodies to speak its story.  

Just listen to “The Greatest Sin.”  My God!  That song simply bleeds.  Pain, regret and self-loathing simply seep from the song’s pores.  (If a song had pores, that is.) But it’s not overdone, it’s not a “woe is me, shut up and get on with your life,”-type of somber.  The emotion is so real, the melody so stunningly beautiful that I can’t help but wonder what that “sin” was that he committed.  I’m thinking adultery, but with Jeff’s slightly obscure lyrics it could be any one of the Big Ten from the Commandments. 

Other songs, like “A Year and a Day,” and “Seven Years,” are almost too beautiful to put into words. 

But before you go thinking that the album is a downer, let’s don’t forget that Robin Hitchcock factor.  Album opener “Living the Good Life in a World of Disease,” is a nearly whimsical piano-led tale that just may be one of the best songs I’d never heard before.  “What Became of Betty Page,” is like a tour-de-force of garage anthemic organs and swirling melodies.  “The Singer of Another Song,” is a crafty, spunky, downright fun, minimalist off-kilter love song, that basks in its own coolness.  Spikes of piano pop in like from the best underground jazz clubs while the song swings along on its cool, beat-poetry club vibe.  Organ twirls, punchy percussion.  “What Now My Love,” brings on that Hitchockian whimsy with its churning, near-carnivalesque organ.

A treasure of neo-psychedelic, singer/songwriter powerpop.  Even more remarkable is the fact that the entire album was recorded by Jeff, at home on an 8-track cassette deck.  Guitar, organ, voice, saxophone, whatever.  I mean, this cat does it all.   When asked to describe the album in one sentence, Jeff said “some good songs and a lot of tape hiss.”  But really, it’s so much more. 

Originally released by Green Monkey Records in 1995, Ash Wednesday Rain is a long-overlooked classic that fortunately is being given another chance to shine.   Green Monkey Records has made Ash Wednesday Rain the album of the month, so you can pop over there and pick it up for a mere 8 bucks.  Too good to pass up.

Just don't ask Jeff to go back to school.

--Racer

Read an interview with Jeff and buy the album here:  Green Monkey Records

No Jeff Kelly videos to share, so here's a Green Pajamas classic to give you a taste of Jeff's music

The Single Life – 7 Inches of Fun – Featuring The Holy Mess, The Life, Filter, and Frontier(s)

 The Holy Mess –  Benefit Sesh 7” - Goodby 3713 (Must’ve Been a Good One) b/w A Soulful Punk Tune About a Working Class Dreamer

Hell yes!!  The words “punk rock” seems to have been absconded by just about anybody these days who fancies themselves an outsider, dropping that tagline onto their pathetic noise regardless of what the music actually sounds like.  But 90% of what comes across the Ripple desk with the moniker “punk rock” to me isn’t real punk.  I don’t know, maybe it’s because I was spinning Fear, Anti-nowhere League, Circle Jerks, The Damned and The Sex Pistols back in the day.  So much of what comes across as “punk” is really just cleverly marketed, barely disguised, annoying whining.

Which is why The Holy Mess was such a refreshing change of pace for me.  From the very first second that the needle dropped down onto the pounding cascade of drums and chaotic guitars that started “A Soulful Punk Tune . . . “ I was hooked.  Here was a band that found the wormhole time-tunnel to bring back the full-on vitriol and passion of classic punk, without losing any of today’s edge and skill.  Barely contained vocals and a grab-you-by-the-throat chorus really nailed this song into my cortex.  This has gotta be on my list of the top ten of new punk singles of the year!  Yes, why can’t they all be like this?

Having first played the disc on the b-side, I was as elated as a schoolgirl when I flipped the white vinyl platter over to discover another steaming slab of pure old school punk vibrancy.  Timeless in approach, these songs could’ve been written in 1980 or anytime since.  Great hooks, sloppy everything.  Can’t get enough.  On top of that, Evil Weevil Records did a great job with the package, with an inserted photo lyric sheet.

Besides, you gotta love any band who’s myspace address is www.myspace.com/fucktheholymess.

The Life – Do it Again b/w A Broken Man

A while back I extolled the virtues of long-lost Seattle record label, Green Monkey Records.  With renewed energy, Tom Dyer, the fearless head Monkey maniac has resurrected the label that originally ran from the mid-80’s to early 90’s.  If you like classic post punk, garage rock, and random pre-grunge madness, you gotta check these guys out.  Their newly released  It Crawled From the Basement Anthology has to be one of my favorite re-issues of 2010. 

Now, they’re coming back with some cool brand new releases, but for today’s purposes, we’re riding the Wizard’s time machine back to 1990 and this crazy white vinyl slab of near-Cramps, perfection.  With a deep throated vocal riding over a demented quasi-rockabilly beat, laced with intermingling, swirling, and singing guitars, “Do it Again,” has got it all going on.  Add a touch of a post-U2 pop sensibility and we’re really cooking.  Just down-home, balls out fun.   Flipside, “A Broken Man,” doesn’t let up long enough for a hummingbird to flap its wings.  Let’s toss some vintage The Call into our reference points here and toss in some killer loose-strung, western gunfighter guitar sounds, a mild-Doors-y mid song breakdown, and you’ll get the picture.

The Life were one of the clear highlights from the It Crawled from the Basement Anthology, and this killer single only reconfirms how good these cats were.  With Green Monkey back in action, I’m hoping we get some reissued The Life stuff.  In the meantime, this tasty platter (on white vinyl) can still be found.  Check Green Monkey Records first to see if Tom has any in his closet.

www.greenmonkeyrecords.com/

Filter – The Inevitable Relapse b/w The Inevitable Relapse (The Robpatterson666 Mix)
Long-time industrial rockers Filter come roaring back this month with their first new album in a while, The Trouble with Angels, and lead off with the single "The Inevitable Relapse."  Originally released as a Record Store Day special, we get two versions of this mechanized assault of industrial mayhem.

Filter, at their best, could always keep up with the best of them, and with "The Inevitable Relapse" we find the band fully-tuned and running on rocket fuel.  This song is a kick-ass, pulsasting, dancefloor ready slab off grinding guitars, pummeling beats, and industrial crunch.  Not to be out done, the flipside strips the song down to its bare essence.  If you’re a fan of NIN, this is right up your alley.

Frontier(s) – The Plains b/w Radiomine

I must have been very good in a previous life.  How else can I describe the embarrassment of riches that Postman Sal slogged into Ripple North when the same package that brought the fresh true-punk sounds of The Holy Mess also brought the post-post punk treat that is Frontier(s)?

Leading up their debut full-length release There Will Be No Miracles Here, this juicy platter just screams to be heard.  Bringing on a kinda post-Husker Du tuneful hardcore, mixed with indy rock, jangling guitars, and more than a little bit of the old Enigma Label chutzpa, Frontier(s) have crafted two serious cuts of brimming post-hardcore rock. 

Featuring Chris Higdon, formerly of  Elliot and Falling Forward, Frontier(s) cranks out two truly strong tracks of emotive, churning post-punk bliss.  "The Plains" rides its reverb/feedback intro into a solid wall of guitars and pulsating bass lines.  Drums dot the atmosphere like hail falling from a darkened heavy and pregnant sky.   Higdon’s vocals, breathy, throaty, and raw work like a charm, deepening the emotional resonance of the song.  "Radiomine" is more of a hallucinogenic, shoegazing trip through emotive lanes of post hardcore soul-searching.  Walls of churning guitars crash against each other like waves of a turbulent ocean.  Think of something like The Velvet Underground for a modern generation and you won’t be too far off.

Can’t wait for the album to come out.

--Racer

It Crawled from the Basement – The Green Monkey Records Anthology

Music history is littered with eccentrics.  Personalities just --or way-- left of center.  Visionaries who doggedly pursue their own sound or vision despite the mountainous odds against them.  Despite an overwhelming lack of public acceptance.  Often times despite any reasonable sense of financial reward. 

And thank God for them!  Often it’s in these way-right-hemisphere thinking individuals that real creativity is borne.  Whether or not it’s appreciated in their lifetime is another matter.

I may have been too late for the first lifetime of Green Monkey Records, but damn it, I’ll wave that monkey flag high and proud now that they’ve resurfaced.

Calling their music post-punk/pre-grunge Seattle, Green Monkey Records was an indy’s indy.  Sprouting from the most humble, inauspicious of beginnings to release scattered handmade cassettes, a toss off of 7” vinyl, some albums and finally some CD’s.  Running from 1983 to 1991, Green Monkey (named after a stuffed animal that label-boss Tom Dyer found in the attic of his grandmother’s house) put out 44 releases of remarkable, sub-basement, glorious pop, punk, psych-folk, and the downright weird. 

The most remarkable thing about Green Monkey Records was that either by pure chance or immaculately calculated vision, the quality of music they put out was way above the bar from what you’d expect from their pieced-together, learn-as-we-go-along, record-everything-in-my-basement beginnings.  What could’ve turned into a “novelty” label manufacturing tracks exclusively for the Dr. Demento Show instead became one of the great homes of pre-Sub Pop indy rock.  I’m sure a great deal of luck went into creating the dynamite catalog of Green Monkey releases, but just as much credit has to go to label-boss Tom Dyer, who clearly has a diamond ear for a quality pop band.

It Crawled from the Basement is the brand new Green Monkey Records anthology.  Having let the label lay dormant but for a few licensing deals, Dyer had recently become rejuvenated, revitalized, re-energized, and the Green Monkey is swinging again.

As any anthology from an underground indy label would be, not all the songs on It Crawled from the Basement will click with every listener.  Nor should they.  That’d defeat the purpose of Green Monkey which was to explore the wide range of the indy scene developing in Seattle in the post-punk years.   Some good, some not so good, all unique and very original.

Putting this disc on for the first time, I was all ready to dismiss it.  I’m not a fan of quirk rock.  Never found the Dr. Demento Show all that interesting, and I like solid chops in my pop, not weird noises and sounds coming from human orifices.  Imagine my surprise when I found myself not only going back time and time again to the 2-disc anthology, but suddenly finding myself on ebay bidding outrageous $$$ to buy up any Green Monkey vinyl I could find.  I was hooked.  Through some insidious, devious act of mental subterfuge, I’d become a Green Monkey furry beast!  (As I wrote this, I just found and bought two Mad Mad Nomad 7" singles off ebay.)

Too many songs (47 of em) on this anthology to go through them all in this review but the highlights are such standouts they have to be mentioned.

Al Bloch delivers a powerful, stripped down, fuzz guitar-and-organ, garage pop lament to teenage angst, “Hangin Around,”  that is so catchy it’s been outlawed in several countries, then rumbles back with a rollicking, post-sixties ode to unrequited love, “Falling Star.”    Mr. Epp & the Calculations, featuring a pre-Mudhoney Mark Arm, turn in a teenage slacker anthem “Out of Control” that rivals early Suicidal Tendencies in it’s punk-fueled, hate-my-life-and-parents rebellion.  So sloppy, the song seems to succeed in spite of itself. 

Hating novelty songs, I’m not supposed to like Me Three’s “Alien Breakfast,” nearly as much as I do, but the damn song is as addictive as a sugar high.  Liquid Generation’s “I Love U,” is a catchy-as-fuck garage rock bender.  The Walkabouts turn out a sumptuous male-female harmony psychedelic pop song to rival anything by the Go-Betweens.   Capping Day crank out a retro-garage punk stomper with “Mona Lisa,” with more balls than half the Pretenders catalog, and the Bombardiers let loose a bomb bay full of detonating garage/punk that could lay waste to a small city. 

The Queen Annes crank out a trio of freaking great cuts including the harmonica-led burner “You’ve Got Me Running.”  If that song doesn’t get you going, you better hook up your right atrium to some jumper cables.  The Glass Penguins lay down some inspired, gentle psych-pop of the sort The Windbreakers created, including the rather bizarre “Shadow of a Fish,” and the infinitely-gorgeous “She Moves Me.”   And some one-off cuts by Mad Mad Nomad, Jon Strongbow, The Fastbacks, Keith Livingston, and the label’s main-madman, Tom Dyer keep the variety coming.

But I’m being intentionally sly here, cause the highlights of this 2-disc set are clearly wrapped up with four bands.   I’ve learned that Green Monkey Records will forever be associated with the Green Pajamas, and for good reason.  Possessing a voice that’d make Alex Chilton shiver, Jeff Kelly can create a pop-psych ditty as effortlessly as I trip over a 1-inch curb.  And the track that Green Pajamas’ fans clamor for is “Kim the Waitress,” presented here in all it’s instantly-infused-into-your-consciousness glory.  I don’t even have words to describe the craft here, but with its incessant bass line, sitar flourishes, constant toe-tapping beat, and lyrics written in homage to a real-life waitress at Mr. Ed’s Restaurant in West Seattle, “Kim the Waitress,” may just be one of the most incredible pop songs you’ve never heard.   But there’s so much more to the Green Pajamas than one song.  Each of the 5 songs here hits its mark.

The next undeniable band here is Life, which steals the imagination with their two cuts, “If it Works (Don’t Fix it)” and “If I Had You (For Natalie)” which both chime with a burning post-The Alarm passion of jangling guitars, soaring vocals, and never-ending hooks.  The Hitmen, blow any cobwebs off the disc with their two slices of post-punk inspired, bass-massive rock.  “I Love Your Poems of Love” bridles with an edgy-post Echo and the Bunnymen nervousness, while “Thrasher’s Corner,” simply destroys, like some cranked up, pissed off post-punk, metal, reggae, hybrid.

Finally, a special nod needs to be tipped towards Tom Dyer’s own band, The Icons who strip the paint off every bumper in the garage with their charging purist-blast of “Write Back to Me.”   Dyer has just re-released the Icons classic retro-rock masterpiece, Masters of Disaster, on CD and I got that baby here in my hot little hands.  So expect a review of that one soon.

I’ve left tons of good music out of this review like The Elements, Slam Suzanne, and Danger Bunny, but there’s just too much here to talk about.  If you’re a fan of indy pop music—good honest, ballsy, delicate, garage-y, punky, folky, mildly trippy pop music—do yourself a favor and pick up this anthology.  It will be nearly impossible for you not to find several tracks that you’ll just wonder how you lived this long without.  This isn’t a CD set to be played, it’s one to be savored, immersed in, bathed in.

It really is that good.

Now I gotta go find me a green stuffed monkey.



--Racer

Buy here: It Crawled From the Basement: The Green Monkey Records Anthology

http://www.greenmonkeyrecords.com/