Widowspeak-Plum; Captured Tracks Records, 2020

 

Recently Mrs. Amnesiac and I were at a local bookshop trading in some well perused volumes from our library. While we waited, we heard some very intriguing songs being played over the store's PA system. Five songs of this Pop sweetness transpired before it was imperative that I find out just what group it was that we'd been listening to. Thankfully there was a staff member at the trade in counter who was able to provide me the information desired. The album that so transfixed us was Plum, the 2020 release from Widowspeak, and I haven't been able to stop listening to it for days now. As far as this listener is concerned, it's a real gem of a document from two very talented practitioners of song craft, those being Molly Hampton on guitar/vocals and Robert Earl Thomas on guitar/bass/synth/loops. Throw in the astute drumming of Andy Weaver also. One of the overriding factors that continues to excite Disaster Amnesiac's musical receptors is the spareness of the instrumental presentation and combinations. Plum's tunes are characterized by clean and clear guitar tones that show minimal if any processing in terms of pedals and suchlike. Every note from the guitars sound as if they are coming from the simple approach of the instrument plugged into an amp, not over driven, and played with a refined melodiousness that is not as easy to produce as most music players would ever admit to. On occasion, runs that make for accents do arise within the mix, but they are never distracting and always pretty much perfectly placed. Dig Good Ones for ample evidence of that factor and then realize that it's in effect throughout the album's entirety. Hamilton's vocals are delivered in a low key high alto register, sometimes doubled. They are consistently enchanting, and the lyrics that they intone are always intriguing, insightful and relatable, as in Breadwinner and Sure Thing. In a musical world that shows so much hysterical ranting and hyperbole, Molly's performance is commendable and inspiring for all of its human down to earth-ness. Plum features a fair amount of programmed drums and they are well sequenced and unobtrusive, but that being said it must be pointed out just how lovely the physical drumming of Andy Weaver is. In a performance that matches the clean lines from the guitars, and never walks upon the beautifully delicacy of the singing, Weaver hits subtle and deep pockets of kick/snare/cymbal interaction that frame and move the songs with a not easily attained subtlety that is awesome. It's all over every song. I'll point out Money and Amy and just let the playing do the rest of the talking. Discrete details of the songs aside, they are all gems of electric Pop. Indeed every track of Plum hangs together with the other and I'll go ahead and list another one in Sure Thing. The sounds of Plum sure would have provided some light and comfort during the terrible, depressing  year in which it was released yet that being said Disaster Amnesiac is sure glad to have stumble upon it these several seasons later. Its sweetness is irresistible.

Live shot(s) #209!

 

Both shots of Alfred and the Breeders at St. Charles Tavern, Tucson 2/27/26. Tight rhythms and crispy guitar tones. Great alternating vocal performances. They made people dance wildly. More awesome Tucson sounds!

Riot-Fire Down Under, Elektra Records, 1981

 

Prior to Metal and all of its varied branches, there existed a form called Heavy Metal. Heavy Metal occurred from the period of roughly 1977-1982. Granted there were references to the term "heavy metal" used as descriptors of certain musical acts and approaches, but the actualized form Heavy Metal happened during that time frame. Subsequent to that time frame what emerged and has since morphed into countless offshoots was Metal. The two are of course related as Heavy Metal set the subculture tones and basic sonic template for Metal. Still, it often feels important for Disaster Amnesiac to make the distinction. And no this is not a qualifier as regards quality, not that anyone, least of all the Metallic legions, would care that much. This has all been noted here because I want to enthuse about Riot, an American Heavy Metal band, and more specifically their 1981 masterpiece Fire Down Under. Riot were a foundational American Heavy Metal group. It always sounds to this listener as if they took musical influences from the Heavy Rock and Blues Rock a few years antecedent to them, acknowledged them as such and then worked up their own purely Heavy Metal style of song writing and performance. It must also be noted that Riot were young American men. Their lyrical topics and playing styles reflect that reality of their output, and output that Disaster Amnesiac posits having Fire Down Under as its pinnacle. The vocals of Guy Speranza are the most obvious reflection of the dynamic: higher pitched notes within the alto range are commonly on display within his performances on the album. Disaster Amnesiac was discussing this the other day with a peer that enjoys the heavier of the post Punk Rock/Hardcore style of singing and he made it clear that vocals of the Speranza type are not to his taste. Had to disagree with him: I like the singing that Guy did, and feel that it captures an emotional rawness that's largely been jettisoned in the wake of Punk Rock and even within Metal (but not within Heavy Metal). Moving away from the vocals, the style and approach to guitar playing within Heavy Metal can now be mentioned. As anyone familiar with the form will be aware, electric guitar and its sounds are a central, probably the most central, concern. As regards Fire Down Under, just put the needle on side one's first track, Swords & Tequila, and you'll hear a definitive Heavy Metal guitar riff and its timbre. One would be hard pressed to find a better crystalized example of Heavy Metal guitar playing than that. Same for the guitar solo on this tight album opener. The initial riff on the title track reminds me of a certain riff off of the Stooges Funhouse album until the drums add a bit more sophisticated syncopated flair. Kip Lemming on bass and Sandy Slavin on drums rage as they push the track forward with their tight, interconnected rhythm section merging. Guitarists Mike Reale and Rick Ventura play tightly intertwined arrangements on the doomy Feel The Same. This track has made Disaster Amnesiac think that Riot may have had a bigger hand in the formation of the Rock style that came to be known as Grunge about ten years later. The stutter stepping of the chorus and emotionally expressive guitar solo on the tune never get old for me, along with Speranza's emotive vocal delivery. An even more effective chorus is baked into Outlaw. For the past few weeks Mrs. Amnesiac has at times begged me to stop singing it, and for good reason as it's got very powerful ear worm potential. The song has road burn boogie shuffle and more of that creative twin guitar interplay. Its fade at the end would probably give a suburban dude a decent crash course in functional Español to boot. And them's some dusty desert boots as the outlaw gets no deal. Fire Down Under's more catchy, Pop-ish portions start off with Don't Bring Me Down and its lyin' lady lament: chick took his cigs fer cryin' out loud! Perhaps a bit more of an Aerosmith vibe happening here with the humor and good times seeking of that band's spirit inflecting Riot's approach. Joey Kramer's style informs much of Slavin's playing on the track, and that's alright because Heavy Metal in some ways insisted that bands give nods to important predecessor acts. Altar Of The King starts off with nods to Ritchie Blackmore's Rainbow before pushing into a deep Prog Rock pocket. The bass and drums tightly intertwine and support the big guitar riff until everyone syncopates, unleashing 16th note blasts that crush. Guy shouts encouragement and Reale takes another blazing guitar solo turn. I'd call it proto Power Metal but really it's just purely Heavy Metal. Riot return to a bit more of a Pop feel on No Lies. The verses are tom tom driven before and the guitars remind Disaster Amnesiac of Todd Rundgren. The overall sound brings to mind the Washington, D.C. band Kingface, who were right in the mix with all of the other "Emo" bands from that town in the mid-1980's. Riot as an influence on Fugazi? Mark Sullivan must have certainly had a copy of Fire Down Under. The band get quickly back to their ragin', white line fever worthy sound on Run For Your Life. It's a track with the kind of manic pacing that always evokes images of the wheels of the tour vehicle turning endlessly upon some freeway somewhere far from home. It also features more hot action guitar solo turns and lyrics that are a feminist's nightmare, something kind of essential to Heavy Metal generally. This classic 1981 Heavy Metal document closes with Flashbacks, a noise guitar feature along the lines of Terry Kath's Freeform Guitar on Chicago Transit Authority to start off. After a few minutes of that bonkers action the rest of the band kicks in and they sound like a 1960's Beat combo blasting away in Swingin' London. Live recordings are spliced into this action and they allow us to hear audiences' enthusiasm re: Riot. Disaster Amnesiac is very much inclined to agree with that sentiment. Mention also must be made of Rod Hui's engineering of Fire Down Under. Excellent balance was achieved between all of the instruments and the vocals, as no element overpowers any of the others. There are so many sonic sweet spots to be heard on the album, and Hui somehow made them all audible. There's Metal, which encompasses a great deal of styles and methods to heavy music production, and there's Heavy Metal, which was a specific form of music produced within a specific time frame. Riot were of the Heavy Metal genre and time frame, and with Fire Down Under they produced a seminal statement of it. All of these years later it's still an essential listen.

Glen Weyant-Helicopters Over East Montpelier Rag:a; self released via Bandcamp, 2026

 

Black helicopters in the sky are for some people at minimum intriguing and for others disturbing. Black helicopters in the sky can feel ominous to certain types of American citizen. Can you imagine how veterans of Vietnam must have felt for a certain amount of time after that era? Disaster Amnesiac sees them on occasion, floating over Tucson. There's a major Air Force base here, so in some ways they just feel part of the scene, regardless of what my subjective feelings about the Military Industrial Complex are. For Vermont-based composer Glen Weyant, a recent sighting of (presumably black) helicopters in the sky over his head in East Montpelier inspired a musical action. It is documented on Helicopters Over East Montpelier Rag:a, an almost fifteen minute composition for guitars, percussion, and electronics. Weyant essentially pairs his noisy musical sounds with the whirring of said helicopters as they worked out some kind of maneuver. It's a righteous blast of chaotic electric guitar overload, enhanced by some sort of resonant metallic object, eruptions of feedback scrawl (the electronics element probably), a dog, and the helicopter blades. It sounds as if Glen was really inspired and worked quickly to document a duration of possible mental instability, turning it into art and thereby winning a small battle against a force that is so much more well funded and in some ways omnipotent within this realm. Those helicopters' sounds are still present at the conclusion of Helicopters Over East Montpelier Rag:a but then again I imagine that Weyant is as well, having taken instruments of mostly destructive nature and utilized one of their features towards a more creative vision. Dig in here to help this peaceful art warrior.

EPiC: Elvis Presley in Concert; dir. by Baz Lurhrmann, 2025

 

Back in 1977 the great music critic Lester Bangs, in his epitaph for Elvis Presley, wrote something along the lines of "people will never agree upon anything in the way that they agreed upon on Elvis". In some way that insight was probably true; in the ensuing years American society has definitely fragmented in ways which make any kind of united stance increasingly less possible. Bangs himself, in concluding that piece stated "I bid you farewell", a very prescient declaration indeed. Over the years Elvis has become some kind of figure of projection: he's been used as a signifier for many and varied stances, something that, had he known to have been the case, probably would have felt insulted by. Pure projection there, so perhaps Disaster Amnesiac is also guilty of using the King, but the fact is that I always love his music and tend to agree with the late David Thomas that Elvis fans are just nicer people in general. This being the case, when I saw the preview for EPiC: Elvis Presley in Concert I was excited at its existence and made sure to catch in the theater. Having done so, it must be stated that there are mixed feelings on my part as regards to the film. On the plus side, there are several minutes of wonderful live footage of Elvis and his band in rehearsal and performance. These scenes show how much he loved music, and musicians, along with his deep skills as a band leader. The man really knew how to tune a band, and a very large one at that, in to the audience for very effective results. His goofy humor and resultant asides made for a very down to earth atmosphere for everyone. Many frames show his men Scotty Moore and Ron Tutt in obvious delight as they follow along with E's spur of the moment cues. Audience shots show just how much regular people responded to him. Elvis's charisma is undeniable. He drove people wild and it was fascinating to watch frames of some of these people as they shook off their inhibitions and went there. EPiC also shows how much of a talented singer Elvis was. Frames during which his tenor voice concluded the endings of various songs prove that, along with sequences during which he belts out Gospel tunes to stunning effect. Again, Presley loved what he was doing, and that shines through within the film. Getting back to Moore and Tutt and the other band members, Disaster Amnesiac was completely stoked to be able to see and hear clear live footage of them as they rocked the deep repertoire that they drew from during a stretch of over 1000 shows in the period 1969-77. Tutt especially is shown as one of the great drummers of the era. Why do so few talk about his playing? Director Baz Lurhmann utilized interesting, almost Dub effects at times in order to let Presley's voice emerge from live recordings, which struck me as very astute and creative. On the down side, a lot of the film's duration was spent on more nostalgic aspects, with clips from home movies and voice overs culled from interviews with Elvis. Surely some people will enjoy those frames, but I just wanted longer sequences and full pieces of the King and his band as they rocked the house. Perhaps a physical release of EPiC: Elvis Presley in Concert will be forthcoming and feature extended live clips? Hail to the King!

Burning Star Core-Operator Dead...Post Abandoned; No Quarter Records, 2007

 

For music fans such as Disaster Amnesiac, the late 1990's to late 2000's were a very intriguing and interesting times. On account of how the music industry had really started to splinter in earnest coupled with faster information dissemination via the 'net, the vast and varied micro-scene landscape started to become much more easily accessed; it was kind of thrilling to be able to become more easily appraised of and even gain access to sounds from so many different corners of so many different scenes. The American Noise situation from that era was one of those that began blowing minds and showing vastly different perspectives to more and more people, myself being one of them. Can you recall the Wolf Eyes cover of Wire magazine and their high profile signing to Sub Pop? I recall seeing Black Dice at the Bottom of the Hill in San Francisco and realizing how impactful this burgeoning group of sound artists had become. It was clear that bands such as these and others were going to be setting the tones for music making going forward: that scene trail blazed mightily, and pretty much of their own accord. 

Chief among the American Noise environment was and is C. Spencer Yeh, the long term Cincinnati-based violin and electronics musician. If you've not read the extensive interview that Bananafish conducted with him and you're in the slightest way interested in development of American Noise from the 1990's onward, you've absolutely must seek it out and spend some time with its deep glimpse into Yeh's thoughts on aesthetics and such. Along with being a kind of primer for the scene in which he was an important figure, it's also at times hysterically funny. Seriously check it if you've not already done so. Disaster Amnesiac did, and has done so repeatedly since acquiring a copy of the issue one evening in Oakland. I've also sought out the varied musical releases from Yeh's groups, prime among them being Burning Star Core. It's a project that has multiple releases, and they're all worth hearing. That said I want to enthuse about Operator Dead...Post Abandoned here as it's been heavily in the rotation for a few weeks now. If memory serves correctly, that title is taken from a line in George Romero's Dawn of the Dead, which kind of makes the thing legendary right there. Is this four track blast of gooey Noise a kind of concept album based upon that Horror classic? I don't know if that's the case but I do know that it starts off with some kind of hardcore Noise frequency from Yeh's violin and a sort of sign wave sound on When The Tripods Came. This sets the tone for the entire release and its murky and mysterious heaviness never fails to draw this listener in. Electronic voices summmoned from Robert Beatty and Mike Shiflet bring dramatic, foreboding sounds until drummer Trevor Tremaine sets up a steady percussive pulse. Often when Operator Dead...Post Abandoned gets played at my place it's Trevor's playing that is the real highlight. On this and the title track he blends Free Jazz scattering with a more motorik pulse in ways that never fail to delight. Trevor's playing pushes the other sound producers into realms of surreal caterwaul and storming while giving them a genuinely grounded field from which to make their noisily conversation flights of doom. These two opening tracks alone account for well over thirty minutes of bliss for any fan of Noise and they are truly high water marks from the genre, American or anywhere else based. If one were to desire a musical analogue of post NAFTA United States scenario, one might want to play this album for its rusted and decaying sonic tableaux work with visuals from those types of corroded industrial scenes. That said they have also been the evocative soundtrack for an imagined Sci-Fi film in my mind. They rock like that, always have and always will, especially on account of Trevor's ass kicking drum skills. I'd imagine that the rest of the Burning Star Core dudes were equally stoked on his playing. Me & My Arrow, the third track on Operator Dead...Post Abandoned hits a bit more mellow for most of its duration, a tambourine setting a pulse from which percussive voices arise. Eventually things start to blow out a bit more while Tramaine plays a kind of break beat. A quick cut leads into the concluding piece The Emergency Networks Are Taking Over, wherein Burning Star Core quickly achieve lift off into an elevated Post Prog conversation between their varied rigs. Trevor goes nuts around his drum set, spinning out looming weaves of drum speak while C. Spencer Yeh waxes eloquent on his violin, showing traces of the conservatory training that he had as a youth. Beatty and Shiflet offer pulses and drones that Tremaine blasts over and among. The ensemble sounds eventually morph into one towering Noise voice, all of the elements combining into thicket of unified strains which tickles the ears until dissolving into a single drone to match the album's initiatory sound. Then a quick a cut and the listener finds themself in silence like they did with the final scene of The Sopranos. 

At several years' remove from the release of Operator Dead...Post Abandoned it feels safe to say that it's a defining document from an artist (C. Spencer Yeh) and a movement (American Noise). It damn sure holds up over time. Seek it find it dig it.

LIve shot(s) #208!

 

 

All shots taken at Music Box Lounge, Tucson 2/13/26.

Below: Girl Slime proving that Punk Rock needs more hollow body guitar tones. Singer gots moves.

Above: The Ultramatics bring energy from Phoenix and aesthetics from Orange County. Great Ramones cover to end their set. Catch them in Bisbee tonight! 

Below: Wanda Junes. Electric guitar and bass slow jam ecstasy. To close out the night. Current drummer is a keeper. If you live in Tucson and haven't seen them it's your loss pal. 

Music Box Lounge is pretty much across town from mi casita but entirely worth driving to. A great spot for live music. Can someone please explain curling to me.

RAIC-Lamentations; Arachnidiscs Recordings, 2019

 

During the period of the mid to late 2010's, Disaster Amnesiac was pretty deeply immersed in listening to Improvised Music in as many of its varied strains as could be found. Any and all forms of delivery were veritably gobbled up by this fan, the more the merrier, really. Blessed by having a house with a sweet sound room, easy access to live venues which showcased improvising musicians and additionally a relatively low stress commute for jamming CDs, I spent tons of time enjoying the myriad sounds to be discovered from the form. RAIC (Richmond Avant Improv Collective) was one group that was discovered during that time, and Lamentations is one of their releases that shuffled into the rotation. It's a really lovely boxed CD document of the music or RAIC, which was (is?)  guided by drummer/composer Samuel Goff. This sumptuous package comes not only with a disc's worth of musical ruminations but several post card sized photos, mostly of rural southern abodes but also a few of the musical participants. The one in Disaster Amnesiac's possession features banjo master Paul Metzger looking quite severe and barefooted guitarist John Saint Pelvyn mid-exploration. All that being said, RAIC primary mission was clearly musical exploration so let's dwell upon that aspect for a spell. Over fourteen tracks, the collective do indeed explore within the macro group matrix along within their micro subjective experiences. Goff leads the group not so much by declaration as by suggestion: his drumming throughout does not so much push as it does murmur. He's very adept at coaxing rounded or fluffy tones from mallet press rolls upon toms and cymbals. These pulses offer aspects of shade and discrete drama which are hugely present and at the forefront of Lamentations. Goff keeps the wailing to a minimum throughout and it's a testament to his taste as a leader save excepting parts of Possession O The Spirit and Cancellation Reversal which close the proceedings. Mostly he sticks to his own singular free pocket explorations. The strings of Zoe Olivia Kinney on cello and Robert Andrew Scott on violin are also notable timbres on the album. They skitter about within the pieces, at times percussive and at others more tonal, but always spinning out mysterious tones and semi-tones that give the entire album a delightfully Avant tone. Erik Schroeder brings controlled alto saxophone bleats and beat howling to the mix. He pairs particularly well with Goff's drumming. Passages wherein the two feed off of each other's playing give the most heated moments on this mostly cool sesh. Over the years and listens, Metzger's banjo has mostly been opaque to this listener. Disaster Amnesiac has often thought that he may have just stuck well to the background, physically, not wanting to overtake the other players. That said, there are some interesting, ghostly moments on Baptism that sound guitar or banjo generated. Ditto for Possesion Of The Spirit. Or is that six string chiming coming from Pelvyn? The real musical wild card on Lamentations is vocalist Laura Marina, whose naive soprano utterances go off into wildly, very innocent places. It's her approach that gives the performance a veneer of childlike overall tone. When she steps to the mics it's almost as if the entire group (hello Jacob Courington on bass and Brandon Simmons on flute) is made of people that are only just now using their given instruments. I am an appreciator of that, as it seems to me that one of the goals of extended techniques and improvisation is to get to those types of places, where every note and gesture feels like a newfound discovery. Was Goff cognizant of that effect that Marina's style would have on the rest of the group? Whether or not that was the case it's testimony to his astuteness as an assembler of musical personnel. Is RAIC still a working unit? Do they still present their freely improvised sounds to people in and around Richmond, the Eastern Seaboard, or even further afield? Here's to hoping that this is the case. My copy of Lamentations came with a thank you card. Wanna say thanks right back to Samuel Goff and his crew for all of the beautiful, otherworldly sounds that they pushed out into the sonic world.

Random photo!

 

Lawrence Hall of Science, Berkeley CA circa 2010. Ugly beauty with San Francisco Bay fog.

Skullflower-Draconis; Cold Spring Records, 2014

 

Skullflower first came across Disaster Amnesiac's perceptual radar in the mid 1990's, when I lived in San Francisco. By that time, the group had already achieved, if not venerable, than at least renowned status, and rightfully so. By way of roughly sculpted long form electric guitar drone maneuvers, Skullflower had been blowing minds since the mid-to-late 1980's. From a subjective point of view, the recordings that I found fit well within the murky and damp (kind of like a butthole) environment of 'frisco as it was navigated, generally clumsily by the person that I was during that time. Twenty or so years later, Draconis came to my attention during a stop at Los Angeles Amoeba Records and there was no question as to whether or not I should cop it, despite at that time being semi-employed and rather broke most of the time. This massive two disc slab of prime Skullflower remains a favorite recording when the need for guitar drones arises, and that need has been predominant a mi casita for a few weeks now. An overall thematic dynamic featuring dragons is predominant on the album, and that perhaps being a subset to what appears be a lament for a fallen feline friend. This is relatable as someone very near and dear to me considers cats to be of the dragon species and utilizes the latter as protectors of the former on a regular basis, within the psychic realms. Getting back to the music: Draconis spans two compact discs' worth of Matthew Bower's skills at crafting the stated long form drone pieces from guitars, synthesizers, and vocals, with assists from Samantha Davies on guitars and violin. Thick slabs of feedback and arpeggio are pulled from amps that overdriven to the max. Their sounds will drive colorful perceptual wedges into the listener's cranium; they induce trance in the most delightful of ways, even as the occasional simple melody sometimes arises from the din. Listening to it now, Disaster Amnesiac imagines amplifier tubes glowing with heat as Skullflower got down to the business of evoking magickal realms of sonic bliss within their "land of the dragon" and feels happy to have been allowed access to these rituals. Sublime loops of high pitched squalling tickle the ear drums with Minimalist delight. Occasionally diatonic riffs echo around mental canyons that resemble solitary desert zones. Melancholic refrains give salute to fallen guides. Vibes simultaneously ancient and futuristic emanate from within electric vortexes commanded by Bowers and then guided into conclusions that sometimes cut with unapologetic and yet still mysterious conclusions. Otherworldly voices arise from eddies chaotic and and controlled at the same time. Whatever inspirations pushed Skullflower in the making of these songs, they are clearly deeply felt and astutely rendered. Draconis is an album of abstract, droning bliss. Load it up, push play and pay deep attention to the mental pyramids that it constructs, and you'll discover aural Sphinxes that can provide fascinating hours of musical contemplation.

Live shot(s) #207!

 

 

All shots taken at Groundworks Tucson, 1/30/26. 

Below: Kryge. All out Metal mechanics. Instrumental wildness pulling from various strands. The drummer is a slayer!

Above: Xasthur plays an astute and singular blending of their earlier one man Black Metal with American Primitive guitar techniques. Intense focus and concentration paired with humbleness in the face of the music. So happy Xashtur came to Tucson. 

Below: Kayo Dot bring symphonic technical Sludge and sad boi vocals.  Many elements, some of which got a bit lost in the mix at times. This band needs a bigger stage.

A great evening of Avant Garde Metal at a venue which is becoming a kind of venerable one in Tucson, what with its gallery, 'zine collections and down to earth staff.

Merzbow-Pándi-Gustafsson-Cuts; Rare Noise Records, 2013

 

Reflections about cool have been at the forefront of Disaster Amnesiac's thoughts as I've compulsively listened to Cuts, the 2013 Rare Noise Records release from Noise power trio Merzbow-Pándi-Gustafsson over the last few weeks. We all know the drill: if you find someone or something cool, we do things to try and keep the cool happening. Heaven forbid if someone that you find cool decides that you are not cool. It's happened to me and yeah it stings for a while but eventually the hurt wears off. After all, you're surely involved in other pursuits. If you aren't, well go and get a life bud and maybe stop being so concerned about what other people think. As regards cool music, chances are the only pain you'll suffer will likely be a bit more tinnitus, a situation much more easily managed, despite its constant annoyance. It would seem as though this may be one of the reasons that hardcore music fans can be such loner types. Why risk all of that squishy emotional involvement when you can just hit play for a CD such as this and find the cool that you're seeking, provided your music consumption includes Noise? Cuts is indeed a very noisy affair. The session was performed in Budapest over exactly one day, a day during which it sounds as though drummer Balázs Pándi had prepared for. Dude plays with ferocity all over his drums, on five of the tracks that appear to be named from some type of poetry chapbook. Pándi gives blast beats, Samba Metal passages, snare to tom to tom to tom runs, cymbal washes, and they're all delivered with the muscularity evinced by the top flight drummers in Metal and Fusion. Balázs gets down hard and heavy while laying down rhythm patterns and bursts of energy atop of which Masami Akita and Mats Gustafsson do their respective things. Said things are the noisy and dense walls of noise which Akita, as Merzbow and other monikers, has refined since 1979. Surely Akita gets paid to be a Noise artist and when one listens to records such as Cuts one realizes why this is the case. Total conviction and a commitment to over the top aesthetic choices inform his sound selections. Discerning consumers of his type of esoteric Noise summoning will all agree that his stuff's among the tightest examples from the genre. His sounds just churn away unceasingly during the disc's pretty lengthy duration. Mats spends the first few tracks pulling burbling and screeches from a small rig of what sound to Disaster Amnesiac to be ring modulators and some type of reverb unit. Between the two of them, Merzbow and Gustofsson develop huge slabs of Noise, sometimes somewhat "conversational" at others just not so much connected as just wailing within the same spectral areas. Fans of Mats' saxophone playing must wait until three tracks in for that to emerge, along with his clarinet a bit later. All of his multi-phonic prowess and high energy freedom search blowing is there, and, lifted by the drum propulsion of Pándi and the high energy electronic scree of Merzbow, it really moves in pleasingly Free ways. Taken in as the music of a unit, and despite the probably hurried nature of the recording, Cuts highlights a trio that plays with apparent simpatico. When I've stood a bit further away from the speakers, I hear these sounds as group sounds, particularly the case when the drums are fully present in the mix. That mix is good, too. All of the varied sound generators and drums and cymbals and woodwinds placed within an equal balance. There is even some clear slap back type of wave form happening from the drums on deep lines. cuts. Listen for it! Cuts is a solid holler of free form energetic blasting from some deep players of the international Noise/Free Jazz/Free Improvisation/Free Fusion scene. It's a damn blast and as cool as the Cramps t-shirt donned by Mats Gustafsson at its recording session, along with being hot as hell in its free form caterwaul. You can be cool if you find it, and you can be cool if don't either. It's out there though, just sayin'. 

Live shot #206!

 

Barefoot on Bumblebees at Time Out Lounge Tempe AZ, 1/17/26. Their blending of Folk aesthetics and Punk Rock abandon informs the music which they produce. Additionally there is emotional vulnerability. They operate in a truly independent manner on all levels and that's so cool.

Some art Disaster Amnesiac saw in Los Angeles, on walls and pavement.

 

It needn't be recounted just how much graffiti embellishes the Los Angeles environment. That said, Disaster Amnesiac was over in that crazy environment last weekend and I had the chances to take a few snaps. These shots were all benched in downtown L.A., and obviously were surrounded by larger burners and pieces. I find them to be smaller details within the overarching graff ecosystem, and they're just as fascinating to me as the more dominant tableaux that cover the City of Angeles. The above shot exists on the pavement of a parking lot. Dig on that subtle blending of almost Dodger blue with the controlled lettering. 

Below: manic wall expression. Los Angeles is crazy and this art reflects that craziness. 

 

Above: detail from a larger piece on a wall of The Smell, a long-running music/art venue. Simple lettering that resonates.

Below:details for a larger piece that's made up of a matrix of letters. This letter style is rooted in very well developed hand style graffiti that's been around for decades. Disaster Amnesiac would refer the reader to the art and thoughts of Chaz Bojorquez for insider insight into the form. 

Driving back and forth within Los Angeles and few of its satellite towns, Disaster Amnesiac marveled at the copious amounts of wall art in the region. It must drive a lot of people nuts but I find it delightful and intriguing. As Black Flag intoned so many years ago: "spray paint the walls!"

Boston At Fifty.

 

In subjective terms, Disaster Amnesiac does not recall too much about the United States bicentennial year of 1976. Blurred and fragmentary memories of riding in the back of Dad's Chevy, walking through the aisle of some grocery store, a heat wave at Christmas time and perhaps a bit more. Recall a photo of my family at the National Mall in D.C. for the big Independence Day festivities of that year too. On to the more objective side of things, I do recall that year being a bonanza of great music having been released: Songs In the Key of Life, Jailbreak, Presence, Blondie, Year of the Cat, the incredibly important Ramones debut to name a few (and let's not forget the myriad and largely unacknowledged releases within the always churning DIY underground). From this list it was Boston's debut album that had the most immediate effect on this listener, albeit a few years later, and  that's the one which I've turned to the most in the intervening fifty years. That probably outs Disaster Amnesiac as a major nerd at best, and probably aesthetically questionable to some but that being said I keep coming back to the idea of spilling a bit of digital ink about Boston. Right off the listener is treated to the acoustic guitar arpeggio of Tom Scholz and high alto vocal of Brad Delp on More Than a Feeling. Obviously it's been an FM radio staple for decades now and even this fan of Boston must admit to being kind of over it, that is at least until the chorus with its hand claps, driven by the great Seb Hashian on drums takes over and suddenly it ain't so bad.  Scholz slides up the neck of his guitar and into that Pop sweet spot, one that Nirvana utilized in an amended fashion a decade and a half hence. Tons of other bands aspired to the power of that wizardly catchy riff. I recall watching the Lunachicks kind of jokingly play the song during a set at Berkeley Square in 1993 or so, but the joke was on them because it was hands down the best tune that they played, in spite of all of their brazen charisma as performers. What happened to Marie Ann one wonders. Not as though I knew it at the time, but when Disaster Amnesiac was repeatedly spinning Peace Of Mind I was really the beneficiary of some pretty sublime Buddhist advice on detachment within the material world. It certainly is easier to listen to its vocal delivery, at least for suburban honkies, than, say a choir of Tibetan monks. I guess that one could accuse it of pedaling base stoner "wisdom" and probably not be too far off of the mark. Still those twinned guitar leads hold up pretty nicely, regardless of whether or not you takes its advice to just go with that 1970s flow and big wind up and fade ending. For many years now Foreplay has often elicited a faux bong rip sound from me. It has that at the time de rigueur Prog jam out thing happening before morphing into Long Time which features more of that easy going "I gotta be me" sentiment so prevalent in the Me Decade. Hopefully the lyricist's paramour didn't get an STD before he walked on outta the door. It strikes Disaster Amnesiac that songs such as this are the type that elicit so much vitriol from the Punk Rock people, but, hey they should be reminded that Scholz was an ardent and vocal explorer of veganism, kind of like the dudes in Concrete Sox or some shit. Say "punk, innit'?" with a Bean Town accent and chill bro. Oh and just like the Hardcore, Boston keeps recycling the same riff over and over, but it's a good one so yeah no worries. Real rockin' vim and vigor is thrown down on Rock & Roll Band as the boys in said band recount their trail of glory. Cigar chomping big wigs wanna party with 'em in Rhode Island and doesn't that sound like a grand time? At least it opened up major label distribution and tour support for Tom, Brad, Barry, Fran, and Seb and they took that shit and rolled with it so good on them. What's so wrong with a good old American success story anyway, right? It's recalled by this reporter that Smokin' was included in a documentary that my worried parents viewed, its subject being the demonic influences that emanated from Rock music. This presumable paean to the Devil's Lettuce was presented as proof of groups such as Boston's Satanic designs on the brains of America's youth. At this point it seems as though everyone is high as fuck on pretty much legal grass and good luck to those States that are now trying to put that genie back into its bottle. The song itself has tight syncopation and Delp delivers a high time partying vocal performance while Scholz gets all organ trio over the joint before some astute tension and release rhythm section jamming and late Psych raving. Fire it on up but remember that Jesus saves. Are the lyrics to Hitch A Ride, presuming that they were penned by him, suicidal ideation from Brad Delp? The question has just arisen in this ancient noggin, just now but it's likely one that will persist. Is the ride being hitched one which crosses that black muddy river? The tune also has a really colorful and well executed organ solo and those hand claps yet again. It's really at this point on Boston that the template has been determined. Those on board with it will stick around for the most part, even though Disaster Amnesiac postulates that the band's cultural relevance will be greatly diminished if noted at all by the end of this century. The society that existed in 1976 is long long gone.  Penultimate tune Something About You has morphed into this fan's favorite cut on the album. Something about the florid lyrics is always exciting. They're very romantic, almost saccharine to the point of being wedding band cheez, but could a wedding band ever really pull off the cracking histrionics of Tom Scholz and Brad Delp at their most manic? I think not. Additionally the chord sequence that kicks off the lyric portion is just Pop Rock ear candy, done in, as mentioned, a style that's extinct. Tom's engineering wizardry is in full effect here and it's just dandy for what it is and that's fuckin' alright dude. Let Me Take You Home Tonight strikes Disaster Amnesiac as having been a great tune to blast at suburban house parties as the proceedings died down. Have imagined inebriated teens' awkward approaches towards each other, drunk and high an whatever they could get their hands on. This one could have enhanced the necessary courage for really breaking on through to other side of whatever emotional walls there were. It's also a fine example of Page-ian guitar craft executed by a non-Page human with six strings and a decent plectrum. Its mood sets a perfect tone as an ending statement of the group's debut with that ravin' conclusion. 

As Disaster Amnesiac has worked on this post, the writings of Chuck Eddy and Joe Carducci have been at the fore as regards their thoughts on Pop and Rock in general, and of Boston explicitly, at least in the case of the former. Eddy pegged Boston as something like a 1970's Pet Sounds update, and that makes a lot of sense over here in Amnesiac World. Tons of Pop sweetness delivered within a Rock shell; when that shell breaks the gooey nature of the songs comes exploding out and slathers the ears in easily heard audio syrup, something that I just can't deny sometimes. As to the latter writer it's just that his works dealing with musical aesthetics are just so clear and as such deeply imprinted by now. I've read his books extensively and if you desire clear eyed opinions about the how and the what and the why 20th Century music worked you need to read them too.

Boston turns fifty years old this year. It's by no means the most influential release from a year that was an embarrassment of musical riches within an even richer culture. For the most part that's all vanished now, destroyed by forces hostile and ignorant and clueless and greedy. Still it's there like a comfortable old quilt to be wrapped around shoulders fatigued by whatever life has thrown at it, at least that's the case for me. Surely there are others who'd concur. 

This post is dedicated to Moon Face and Butterscoth and a guy named Paul.

Random shot!

 

 

Needles, CA July 2021. There's a curry restaurant near this spot which serves downright sublime food. Their target market seems to be Sikh truckers who drive through, on their way to parts east and west.

RIP Bob Weir

 

 

The last of the front line of the Grateful Dead has shuffled off from this earthly realm. Bob Weir, was a singularly lateral thinker, both in terms of musical phrasing and ideas. In tandem with John Perry Barlow, he essentially developed one half of the fascinating Dead song book. His tunes are hooky and angular at the same time and their topics and arrangements are the perfect foil for those of his main man Jerry Garcia. Deadheads will surely think of him often, especially whenever they see a Picasso moon.

Mike Bell & Ed Wilcox-Road Dogs; Illuminated Paths Records, 2020

 

It's a mystery as to just how Mike Bell's YouTube videos started showing up in Disaster Amnesiac's feed but somehow they did. Glad for it, too! Along with presenting great footage of Baltimore's AMAZING Motor Morons, a band that was playing shows during the time that I lived near enough to their town to have actually had a chance to take one in, had the information been presented, the channel also hipped this listener to Road Dogs, a 2020 release featuring Bell with drummer Ed Wilcox. Over four rather long tracks, Bell's instrument is the sounds of short wave and CB radios, from which he coaxes very primitive synthesizer type drones and whirls and beeps and pops. Voices of actual truckers are also very present, and indeed they represent a kind of lead vocal aspect. They often sound as if they're arguing about some type of issue, or maybe just debating the ins and outs of long haul etiquette. For a person that watched Smokey and the Bandit type of films a lot as child and having also spent some time working as a short haul truck driver, these samples resonate firmly. From a more objective perspective, they provide quite intimate glimpses into a very specific sector of the American economy, one that's actually still functional. As such, it's more than a little bit essential. Disaster Amnesiac has thought that Road Dogs should be submitted to the Library of Congress as evidence of such. Temple of Bon Matin drummer and student of the Late Great Milford Graves Ed Wilcox displays his singular drum style over and around trucker/short wave audio, with what sounds like a pretty sparse drum kit. Ed has mastered a kind of Free Improv/Garage Rock blend. His break beats chatter along in dialogue with Bell's sample work until he hits these really long and artful press rolls. Disaster Amnesiac has been a fan of his work since the late Andrew Palmer introduced it to me ten years back or so, and it's work that I love to hear and whenever possible online, see. The man's got the junk shop Jazz aesthetic down and it's highly digable, from the bass drum on up to the cracked cymbal bells. Wilcox's drumming meditations, as stated, are distinctively his own. Taken as a whole, the four main tracks of Road Dogs make for fascinating deep listening or amusing background sounds, their aspects mixed so that the elements of voices, radio wave frequencies, and drums dwell on equal plains within the sonic spectrum. Both listening styles have been utilized over here by I-10 in Tucson and they're both worth the time spent. Road Dogs is a very thoughtful and exceptional release both in the musical approaches of its players and its significance as a sociological window. It also comes with close to thirty minutes of bonus material in which one's ears can bathe in the untreated and unaccompanied voices from the CB chatter that Bell captured in 2020. To quote one of the predominant voices therein, "bye bye bye!!!!!"

Live shot #205!

 

 

Solo Blues musician. Down Home Records, El Cerrito CA, December 2013. Wish I could recall his name but that information is long gone.

Protohuman-Dishumanus; No Sides Records, 2025

 

It was hoped by Disaster Amnesiac that the entire sequence of late 2025 No Sides Records releases could be heard and "reviewed" during that year, but a profound sense of laziness overcame me during Christmas time, and I just could not be bothered. That being said, here we are in 2026 and a nice series of rain storms has cleared the air here in Tucson so that enthusiasm is back and Dishumanus, the four track CD from Protohuman is playing in mi casita. Really fascinating, the way that Protohuman blends purely Noise tones with what sound like set lyrical forms for each song. Opening track Dust keeps making this listener think of the album's aesthetics as being a kind of futuristic Folk Music, and this vibe hangs out for the entirety of Dishumanus. For the most part its sounds are spikey, on the higher end of spectrum and pushed by primitive drum machine programming. Protohuman sings or speaks words in a soprano voice range that deal with mysterious, presumably subjective topics affecting the life of writer. Being on an equal level within the mix as greasy electronic whirls and beats, they aren't exactly easy to discern but that's fine: this mix renders them as equals parts within the sonic spectrum of each song. Protohuman is mining a vein of post-apocalyptic sounding Noise/Pop fusion that Disaster Amnesiac can see being a standard type of musical output later in this century. Their Bandcamp page mentions Tucson in the tags section. Are they playing a set for the Desert Drone series any time soon?