This Captain Spud chap, with his mildly alarming synthetic-bop is in the alternative charts down here in Adelaide with this CD single. This could mean anything. What it actually means is that Spud has done it again.
While I believe that men like this should be surging up the charts, exposing the dross and bogus aspects of the entertainment industry, the reality is that gorgeous little tunes like this, with its toyland-‘60s-musical aspect placed in a modern context … don’t.
Fifteen years after it was recorded, this superb piece of Nomads ramalama sees the light of day as a split single with psychedelic collective Donovan’s Brain.
Recorded in Montana while they were sweeping through the nooks and crannies of North America, Sweden’s finest manage to lay waste to this rippling instrumental (written by studio owner and Brain ringmaster Ron Sanchez) like it was one of their own. This is desert driving music, simple as that. A big, fat fuzz bassline and tumbleweed guitars from the severely underrated pairing of Hans Ostlnd and Nick Vahlberg - supplemented by Sanchez and bandmate Richard Teece - make this something special.
Donovan’s Brain plays a whole different ball-game to the Nomads but the flipside keeps up the pyrotechnics levels. “Bread Man” is a Sanchez vocal-led heavy psych rocker fleshed out by Deniz Tek lead guitar. It’s over too soon. “Snow in Miami” eschews vocals and goes for a roughed up surf sound. It dates from 1998 with then-Brain guitarist Richard in place, adding some tasty skronk.
1/4 - The Nomads
- Donovan's Brain
Career Records on the Web
Tuned-down, thuggish riffage played by a Birmingham power trio of veterans, “Crazy” is the sort of song best played at stun volume. Dave Twist’s heavily propulsive drumming recalls Rock Action on the A side. Paint-stripper guitar and a fuck you vocal make “Crazy” glow with more menace menace than a short-changed back-street mugger after chiucking out time.
These guys have doubled as Walter Lure’s UK backing band and although “Crazy” is more Sabbath than “Going Steady,” you can appreciate that Waldo’s foot soldiers are tarred with a similar brush. The B side is even better than the A. Alan Byron locks onto a riff and doesn’t let go. Darren Birch’s simple bass-line throbs away under a ragged vocal. An album of this stuff would go down well.
The band has issued this on their own label but it’s being distributed via Easy Action. Go here for the goods or risk a good thumping.
Pressed up for the recent European tour, the A side is a mono version of the song from the “Detroit” album. Mono remasters on vinyl are more often than not a great thing. “Can Of Soup” punches above its weight, sonically speaking.
If you’’re aware of the Jeffrey Lee Pierce Sessions Project you’ll already know the quality of the acts contributing to the ongoing series of musical tributes to the late Gun Club frontman. Here’s another salvo, this time in the shape of a double A-sided seven-inch single pairing a punk rock supergroup of sorts with a super garage rock group from Scotland.
Chances are that your command of the Norwegian language is as limited as mine and that your knowledge of the Finnish underground music scene is even more bereft. That’s why the finer details behind this moody seven-incher by Finnish band Riitaoja on a tiny label from Norway will probably forever remain darker than a late evening stroll in an Arctic Circle winter.