issue 10  october/november 2001
"front page"


"Blastitude" is a word coined by Angus MacLise, original drummer of the Velvet Underground and quite possibly the coolest hippie of all time. (cf. track four of his posthumous CD release The Invasion of Thunderbolt Pagoda, released by Siltbreeze/Quakebasket. Click HERE for immediate cf'ing.)

(or click on Angus)


Blastitude #10.

Ladies and Gentlemen, your host for this issue, The Unknown Comic!!! Just kidding. (Anyone have a 'complete works of The Unknown Comic" video floatin' around? Something with all the Gong Show appearances, his 'blue' cameo in the movie Night Patrol, any other esoterica that somehow got broadcasted...Hollywood Squares? Fernwood 2 Night? The Love Boat?)


What makes this issue special? Why, this is the issue where for some reason I decided to review every single record I listened to, while I was listening to it, for a week. To do this, you have to type really fast, and finally, I understand what Truman Capote meant when he said of Jack Kerouac's body of work, "that's not writing, that's typing." I'm definitely guilty of some typing, but the thing is, I always go back and tortuously revise my typing, chipping away at over and over again, trying desperately to shape and reshape it until it's actually writing. Sometimes I'm successful, but even when I'm not, I put it up on the web anyway because I've got a deadline. That's as close to the Blastitude mission statement as I can get after my tenth deadline-intensive issue in a row.
     Ah, but the astute ones out there have surely noticed the deadlines have been getting less intensive every issue. Look for that trend to continue. Really, I've just listened to too much improv-type noise music these past few months. Hell, I'm listening to improv-type noise music right now, guitars I think, coming from the CD shuffler, and three minutes in, I don't even know who it is. My initial reaction is, "Damn, take it off, put on some Fela" know, after four minutes in, the music starts to insinuate itself.
      This whole improv-type noise thing really does have its way of insinuating. I always want to get up and turn it off, because it's just another noise record, but it numbs me into apathy before I get around to getting up. (It's not a coincidence that marijuana is a very popular drug among noise users.) Because of the inherently tedious circumstances the existence of "another noise record" thrives upon, hearing another noise record -- on your own stereo, no less -- can instantly divert you into some sort of task that helps you ignore it. For example, cleaning the kitchen while it plays in the other room, turning it down so you can better concentrate on driving while eating that taco, or writing a review about it for your webzine.
      And right now, while writing about it, I'm realizing that this record is The Somnambulist by Delayed Sleep. I've already listened to it once, and I reviewed it while I was listening to it then too, which can be read on page six. This time I'm liking it just as much, and the reason, I'll admit it, is because I'm MELLOWING WITH AGE. Call me a 'sissy' if you like, but in my humblest opinion, I'm aging like a good red wine. I like all kinds of noise music, and I think it's cool how noise killed the song, but I still really like songs too, and I wanna hear songs at least 50% of the time. I mean you should've seen Harvey Sid Fisher last night at The Hideout...those were songs...Bill Callahan can win all the Magnet Magazine "best songwriter" polls there will ever be, but he has never connected with me 1/10th as much as Harvey Sid does...I'm not joking at all...
      Anyway, it's not like I'm fleeing for Elephant 6 here. (I only own one affiliated LP, and that's a CD-R dub of In The Aeroplane Over The Sea that I've listened to exactly once.) It's just that, with all the noise music in the world, if you're gonna do it and I'm gonna be engaged by it, there has to be a song somewhere in it. I don't care how deeply it's buried, but I wanna feel it: a hook, a sequence, a progression, some kind of narrative arc, however experimental...any semblance of the soul of an individual other than simply the rejection thereof...there doesn't have to be words or vocals...there doesn't even have to be notes...there just has to be a CONCEPT other than "Being Beat Up For 30 Minutes" and "Being Beat Up For 30 More Minutes."
       Cock ESP, for example, did it by beating you up for ONE minute instead of 30 -- a much more invigorating experience. On record, they broke up the noise with interview segments, and then audio verite arguments, and then actual songwriting (retarded electronica songwriting, but songs nonetheless). Delayed Sleep know how to do this too. They don't keep punching when you're already down, they give you a backrub. And they know how to change it up; track seven ("4'15") is a killer mid-album curve ball, consisting of a slowed-down and faraway hip-hop beat coming out of an amp with one of the guys whispering some pleasantly indiscernible lyrics over it. Most of the rest is just mellow mellow mellow ominous spacious guitar improv. When it's over and a mean 'n' evil early Captain Beefheart blues demo kicks in, it actually sounds too mean. That old Beefheart raw adrenaline, so often a source of excitement, is now a source of aggravation. I wanna go back to (delayed) sleep.

Delayed Sleep
Delayed Sleep



Gillan: I've heard 'em. Angel Air have released about 600 CDs by the group in the last six months alone. Mayahoshi Urabe appears on all but two...

Nandor knew "Vulva" from the long-distance guest sessions for "The Wigmaker." I dig his version a lot. "Wig" is due soon, soon.

Lyrics are at the Shave archive:

More specific to your quest:


Hello there,

I stumbled across your review of Opprobrium online recently, ironically whilst in the process of searching for background information about Birchville Cat Motel for a review of his Hermescorp CD. I found your take on Opprobrium refreshing, and I thought your review raised some very pertinent points, so thanks much for your comments. I receive next to nothing in the way of analytical response from anybody, so it's always nice to get a bit of feedback, even - or especially - when negative. Some of it I disagreed with, but then some of it I agreed with; there are a few issues I could raise, but not without coming off as incredibly anal and prolix, so I won't indulge myself. The one thing I would point out is that it's erroneous to argue I "[have] always written off the Campbell Kneale/Birchville Cat Motel/Celebrate Psi Phenomeon axis". Birchville Cat Motel have been reviewed three times in Opprobrium (the Insample CD in print issue 4, and the Drunken Fish CD and lathe LP in online issue 1), each time positively. To my recollection - please correct me if I'm wrong - I have never written anything negative about Campbell Kneale or Birchville Cat Motel. And to say that I wouldn't be able to tell the difference between a BCM cassette and a Bruce Russell cassette is a bit silly. FYI, I thought the BCM H/corp CD was okay, if nothing startling. New issue of Opprobrium by the end of October, with - hopefully - fewer reviews written by me.

Nick Cain

so i found a copy of "glory road" at work yesterday and actually listened to it, swear to christ, and while it wasn't nearly as bad as would be reasonable to expect, it only had ian gillan's voice and way w/ a vocal melody to put it above same-era whitesnake or rainbow ( which would mean graham bonnett-era?) come to think of it, i'm not even sure if mick underwood's on it, so maybe it doesn't count. is glory road one of the "good" ones?

what about mick allsup? don't know shit about him other than he plays guitar on kim fowley's outrageous ( a duty he shares w/ official greatest name in rock n roll mars bonfire - so not sure who's doing what) - but that really ought to be enough i think to make the list.

anyway, your zine's pretty keen and all, although several mentions of the verve had me listening to that at work too, thinking maybe it was deserving of re-evaluation and i still haven't figured out what the fuck i'm supposed to hear in 'em, but nobody's perfect i suppose. keep up the good work and all that...

--David Houser in Las Vegas

Several mentions of the Verve? I do have a strange soft spot for their album A Storm in Heaven, and Brad Sonder did give it props in his column a year or so ago, but I can't recall a single other time they've appeared in our pages. I haven't heard anything else by 'em and certainly don't feel the need to, but that album -- listened to at work in a record store -- hit us with some sort of freewheeling acid-soul bonfire-on-the-ocean-at-night thing. At the time, it was a nice release from ringing up Garth Brooks CDs for hours straight. It still sounds just as good to me, but hell, I like a song by Blackbox Recorder, so don't take me as an authority or anything...

Yes, being named Mick and playing with Kim Fowley automatically puts one in the Top 10, if not Top 5, Micks of Rock. If only I'd apologies to Mr. Allsup. As for which Gillan LP's are the good ones, perhaps only Ian himself can tell us...

BLASTITUDE will be published quarterly from now on. Next issue probably not until March 1st. And I need help! Would-be submitters, sharpen your pencils PLEASE...
Comments, recommendations, complaints, submissions:
Any music/tapes/books/artifacts/records/documents for consideration should be mailed to Blastitude @ 2158 N. Mozart St. #2, Chicago, IL 60647

editor, designer, collater, curator, writer: Larry "Fuzz-O" Dolman
"Gathering Buds" by Tom Smith
"Living Like Burt Reynolds On A Mac Davis Income" by Tony Rettman
"Inklings and Musings" by Brad Sonder
Portrait of Brad Sonder by Michael French

BLASTITUDE #10 © 2001
Published by Tiny Press








To browse through all issues of Blastitude so far, check out the MASTER LIST. To check out this ish first, you can start by checking out this week's lead story:

a few columns to start this issue...we're proud
to have Tom Smith on the staff...we're proud to
have Tony Rettman back...and editor-in-chief Larry
"Fuzz-O" Dolman even contributes a new column,
Larry Dolman Live, as if the whole magazine wasn't
already a column by him...