Before I get to the music tonight, I want to share a few things I wrote over at that other site. I put up a review  of some recent game music releases, wrote a thing about how I’m done with horror movies for now, followed that up with a hella bizarre piece about Kiki’s Deliver Service, Amazing Grace and Chuck and the lack of human empathy (I was having a strange week), did a quick write-up of another Nirvana re-issue, put together a sadly relevant piece about a movie that predicted America’s mass shooting problem, and then closed out with a piece on STP.

Been busy. Anyways, some weird shit for the holiday season.

I’m consistently impressed by the oddball shit I find in Japanese record stores.

This is Life In The Future, a bootleg compilation of obscure Swedish post-punk.

Quick, ask me anything about Swedish post-punk.

Okay, I’m going to be honest and tell you that I don’t know shit about Swedish post-punk. I didn’t know the Swedes had post-punk. I thought they only had two genres in Sweden, ultra-poppy and cheery dance-pop and hardcore death metal. Shows you what I know.

But I wished I knew more, but because damn, this is a really great record. It does kind of get off to a rough start with the intentionally abrasive “Forlast Javel” by HörförstÃ¥else, but it picks up soon after that, with all flavors of post-punk getting due mention here. Like dissonant, depressing post-punk ala Joy Division? Then check out “Vanda Inat” by Unter Den Liden. Into quirky dance-punk with an electronic bent? Be sure to play the utterly manic “Happy Funeral” by the wonderfully named Kitchen & The Plastic Spoons. If you like darkwave synth-pop with a touch of New Order you’re more than covered here with great tracks like “East People” by Vitality and “The Gift” by Reasons To Live. And if you like weird shit that would make most people’s head explode, skip straight to the utterly bizarre “I Throw Punches” by one Friz Be.

As I said before, most of the stuff on this record is incredibly obscure. Most of the acts here didn’t even release a full album, and instead just offered a single or two before vanishing completely. Of the acts on here, the most well-known is probably Cortex, who get their material re-issued on a semi-regular basis. I couldn’t tell you much about them though.

Keep in mind, this is a vinyl rip of a bootleg record that was in itself most likely sourced from vinyl. So don’t expect killer audio quality with this one. Still, good stuff overall, so if you’re like me and have exhausted nearly every post-punk act that England and America had to offer, check it out!

Complete Tracklisting (Download Link)

1. Forlast Javel - Hörförståelse
2. Tristess No. 3 – GPJ
3. Happy Funeral – Kitchen & The Plastic Spoons
4. Envy – Modern Art
5. Jesus I Betong – Cortex
6. Chinese Junkies – Njurmannen
7. Dance – Odd Stories
8. Rekordmagasinet – Mats Olofsson
9. The Gift – Reason To Live
10. I Throw Punches – Friz Be
11. Vanda Inst – Unter Den Liden
12. East People – Vitality
13. She’s A Waitress – Elektriska Cellskapet
14. Operator – Tres-Operator

Things I know about New Zealand:

• Kiwis
• Sheep
• Peter Jackson movies
• Steriogram (New Zealand’s Sum 41)
• Sheep
• That fucking OMC song
• Split Enz/Crowded House
• Sheep
• Kiwis

And sadly, I’d venture to say that I know more about the tiny island country than most. Let’s be honest, New Zealand is mostly known for…not being Australia. And that’s too bad, because I’ve recently discovered that a hell of a lot of great rock has come out of kiwi country, far more than enough to make up for “How Bizarre.”

From what I’ve read about New Zealand rock music, it seemed to have really hit its stride in the early 80s, and even grew enough to have cultivated it’s own scene dubbed the “Dunedin Sound,” an indie/jangle pop sound with a lo-fi bent. If the Wiki is anything to be trusted (and why not), the Dunedin Sound was a direct influence on R.E.M., Pavement and Mudhoney. Those bands, of course, laid much of the groundwork for what became the indie rock sound of the late-80s and early-90s, which in turn became the alternative rock sound of the mid-90s that absolutely dominated the cultural landscape for a few brief and wonderful years. I don’t know if it’s fair to say that without the Dunedin Sound we wouldn’t have had Nirvana, but it probably didn’t hurt.

In the world of New Zealand indie-rock, the big record label was/is Flying Nun. From what I can tell, if any Americans in the 80s and 90s were exposed to any New Zealand rock at all, it was because of that label and its efforts to promote their acts overseas via compilation albums. The first of these compilations was Tuatara, and it came to the US via the indie label Strange Weekend in 1985.

But Flying Nun weren’t the only label in town (which amazes me, because I thought there only 28 people in New Zealand), and Strange Weekend must’ve thought those other labels had talent worth promoting because just a year after the release of Tuatara they put out Unexplored, which focused more on even smaller labels from the small country.

Most of the acts on Unexplored were on Propeller Records, a label that was mostly known for it’s post-punk bands. The label apparently quite well-regarded at the time, but it didn’t last long. In fact, by the time Unexplored came out, Propeller had already shuttered. Its founder, Simon Grigg, went on to run a couple high-profile concert venues in the country before giving it another go with a second record label called Huh! Records. One of their first releases was the debut album by OMC. Which just fucking figures.

I thought I’d be able to connect OMC to this record if I tried hard enough, but I didn’t expect I’d be able to do it so easily and with so few degrees of separation.

But let’s not hold OMC against him (and honestly, OMC were better than “How Bizarre”) because if this album is any indication, he discovered some downright amazing talent during Propeller Records’ short time, and it’s a pity that most of it has been lost to the ages.

Lot of highlights here, pretty much every song on this album is worth a listen. It all really reminds me of the post-punk Liverpool scene of the late 70s. If you dig on Echo And The Bunnymen, Joy Division, The Sound and Comsat Angels, then you’ll probably eat this stuff up big time.

Complete tracklisting (download link)

1. Marsha – Blam Blam Blam
2. Falling – Johnny Bongo
3. Scarred – Car Crash Set
4. Dancing With Stars In My Eyes – Screaming Meemees
5. Grey Rooms – Sonya Waters
6. Auckland Tonight – The Androidss
7. Queen St. – The Posonbys D.C.’s
8. Conversation With A Machine – Big Sideways
9. I Like To Drive – Scott Calhoun
10. Strange Weekend – Martial Law

My pan-American trip continues. Since my last post I have left Portland, traveled south to see my brother in Florida, and am now in my lovely hometown of Toledo, Ohio, where it is dark, dreary and raining.

It’s good to be home.

Coming back to America after living abroad for over a year has kind of been a mindfuck in a lot of ways. I’m not used to driving, and everything is so fucking far away! In Tokyo if I want to get a drink or a quick bite to eat, I’m no more than a 10 minute walk to a convenience store or rice bowl place. But now that I’m out in the boonies of Northwest Ohio, it takes me a good 20 minutes to drive to the nearest decent grocery store, and all my friends are, at minimum, a good 30+ minutes away. As someone who never had patience to begin with, it’s quite the challenge.

I also didn’t miss driving, and the gigantic sprawl of construction barrels that is the Ohio interstate sure is a blast.

Oh, and this is the first time I’ve been around friends and family since the whole coming out thing. And that’s been a series of awkward ordeals that I don’t want to even get into.

But at least I can get a decent bloody mary mix here, so that should solve at least some of the problems I have at the moment.

Now drum and bass!

The Legendary Dreamscape Presents the Millennium Collection – Disc 1
In SalemI stopped into a little record store called Harvest Records. It’s not the biggest or best store I’ve been to, but it is a charming little place, and it features a wonderfully diverse selection of music, from hip-hop to classic rock. I picked up the new Modest Mouse there, as well a crazy nine CD electronic box set entitled The Legendary Dreamscape Presents The Millennium Collection. From what I can gather from its Discogs page, it’s actually a compilation of compilations, collecting three separate three-disc box sets – each of which dedicate one CD to happy hardcore, one to “old skool” and one to drum and bass.

Tonight I’ll post the first CD, which is a radical mix of classic drum and bass that goes from techstep to more fast-paced “classic” dnb before sliding back into the sci-fi tinged techstep for the finale. It features a good array of DJs, including my favorite dnb producers of all-time, including Ed Rush and Optical, who together are responsible for Wormhole, which is easily in my top five electronic albums of all-time. That shit is legendary and if you consider yourself an electronic music fan and you don’t own that, then you are fucking it all up and should be ashamed of your punk ass.

Enjoy the hardcore electronic music. Next post will be all Madonna.

I meant to post this one up Christmastime last year. But between preparing a transcontinental move, packing up everything I owned to put into storage, selling my home, and dealing with an unexpected near mental collapse, I kind of got swamped.

Holiday Greetings From The Epic, Portrait And CBS Associated Family

This is the kind of relic you just don’t see anymore. I assume record labels still put stuff like this together from time to time, but they’re probably beamed across satellites and data lines to hard drives and then quickly wiped and forgotten after they’re limited use is exhausted. The fact that, at one point in time, a record label had to commit to vinyl something so meaningless and empty as canned celebrity holiday greetings really amazes me. I wonder how many of these silly useless records got made? I bet only a fraction of that number were ever used. What radio station would want to cue up a record just so their audience could hear a six second seasons greetings message from Gregory Hines?

Yeah, the line-up for this one is all over the place, I’ll just go ahead and list them all in alphabetical order:

• Gregg Allman
• Billy Always
• Basia
• Cheap Trick
• Cherrelle
• Alice Cooper
• Gloria Estefan
• Europe
• The Fabulous Thunderbirds
• The Godfathers
• Gregory Hines
• Insiders
• Living Colour
• Alexander O’Neal
• Ozzy Osbourne
• Quiet Riot
• The Rave-Ups
• REO Speedwagon
• Rhythm Corps
• Dan Siegel
• Slammin’ Watusis
• Henry Lee Summer
• Survivor
• Tony Terry
• Til Tuesday
• Luther Vandross
• Gino Vanelli
• Stevie Ray Vaughan
• Weird Al Yankovic

There are some big names there, that’s for sure. You got your bonafide legends like Gregg Allman, Ozzy and Weird Al; you’re gone but not forgotten stars of the era such as Survivor, Europe and REO Speedwagon; and you even have a few memorable flashes in the pan like Til Tuesday and Quiet Riot.

But even for me, some of these acts go cross the Rubicon of obscurity and into the realm of pop culture oblivion. Bands that were such failures that they can’t even claim to be forgotten because that would imply someone heard of them in the first place.

Sure, some of them, like Cherrelle or Basia just worked outside of my areas of interest (easy-listening soul and jazz-pop, respectively), but who the hell are Billy Always, Insiders, The Godfathers or Henry Lee Summers? I did a courtesy tour of these artists’ tracks on YouTube to see if my memory would be jogged at all, but I’m completely drawing a blank – and honestly, usually for pretty good reasons. There was a reason why alternative music laid waste to the pop landscape of the late 80s and early 90s, and it was because of dramatically drab pap like this.

Although I will admit that Henry Lee Summers had a pretty remarkable mullet.

The messages themselves are sadly forgettable more often than not, with many just delivering bland “seasons greetings” messages and little else. Living Colour couldn’t even be bothered to do that. They just scream “we’re Living Colour” and leave it at that. I can’t imagine that was really useful to any DJs.

There are some bizarre highlights though. Of course Weird Al’s messages are suitably, well, weird, while Alice Cooper’s labored efforts to come off as “edgy” are enjoyable in their own ridiculous way. Stevie Ray delivers one of the few legit great moments on the album though, thanks to a brief little solo.

And Europe sing a traditional Swedish Christmas song! So there’s that.

Much belated, eagerly anticipated (by someone I suppose) here we are; my last post on wrestling music – until I waste my money on another dumb wrestling record.

Piledriver: The Wrestling Album II (complete album download)
Piledriver: The Wrestling Album II, as the title suggests, is the second album of music released by the WWE (then WWF). It was originally released in 1987, about two years after the release of the original Wrestling Album. While the original Wrestling Album was kind of a comedy piece, with novelty tracks and skits taking up half of the LP, Piledriver is actually an attempt at a “serious” record – and is shockingly a far better record for it.

The original Wrestling Album was mostly the work of Rick Derringer, along with the occasional contribution by Jim Steinman and Cyndi Lauper, but on this album Derringer takes the backseat, only contributing to two tracks. The majority of the record was written by James A. Johnston, a composer and songwriter who is still creating music for the WWE to this day, so good on him for landing a steady gig.

As I said, this album is shockingly not horrible, although things do get off to a really weak start thanks to opener “Girls In Cars,” a schlocky piece of light rock by Robbie DuPree, the one-hit wonder best known for “Steal Away,” a song that in itself sounds remarkably like the far superior “What A Fool Believes.” This track was used as the intro music to the tag team Strike Force, but I can’t imagine how that worked. That would be like having your intro music by Peter Cetera.

After that we have the title track, performed by wrestler Koko B. Ware. This song is decidedly not horrible. In fact, I’m just going to come out and say it – I kind of like this tune. Yeah, it may be stupid, and Koko B. Ware would never be mistaken for Curtis Mayfield, or even Gregory Abbott for that matter, but he’s competent. And the song itself is actually pretty clever in comparing falling in love to a piledriver. I mean, what better wrestling metaphor could they have used? “Your love hit me like a suplex?” “She closelined me with her beauty?”

Next we have the theme music for the Honky Tonk Man. It’s an Elvis homage, which was kind of the Honky Tonk Man’s whole shtick, so that makes sense. It’s a horrible track, although to be honest my opinion of it might be skewed by the fact that I do, and always will, hate the Honky Tonk Man with every fiber in my being.

Motherfucker tried to hit Elizabeth with his guitar. Fuck that dude.

Things recover slightly as Rick Derringer makes an appearance for “Demolition,” which served as the theme music to Ax & Smash during the majority of their run in the WWE. Simple tune, thrash-inspired metal without much melody, but it’s fun enough. And it certainly fits as a wrestling entrance theme far more than “Girls In Cars.”

It’s followed by probably one of the more (in)famous tracks on the album, “Jive Soul Bro” by the “heel” manager Slick. I assume he recorded this before he became a born-again Christian. It’s pretty dumb, and it’s followed up by the equally dumb “Crank It Up” by fellow loudmouth manager Jimmy Hart. This is light years better than “Eat Your Heart Out Rick Springfield,” mostly because it sounds like a third-rate Rick Springfield rip-off with a heavy dropping of sleaze thrown on for good measure. It’s still not a good tune, mind you, but it’s listenable.

By far the strangest track on the album is Hillbilly Jim’s “Waking Up Alone,” a soft-rock country ballad that features guest vocals by a woman going by the name of Gertrude. I have no idea who that is, but she can certainly sing. Not a horrible tune, with Jim’s complete lack of vocal ability probably being the single thing that holds it back. You give this to 1980s-era Kenny Rogers and you’d probably have a minor country radio hit.

The same cannot be said for Vince McMahon’s “Stand Back.” Bad song. Bad music. Bad singing. Bad. It’s bad is what I’m saying. It’s the worst track on the album, and might be up there with some of the worst tracks on the first Wrestling Album, save for Captain Lou’s number, which as I mentioned before, is the worst song I’ve ever heard in my entire life. Thanks to it, Rick Derringer and “Mean” Gene Okerlund’s take on Derringer’s own “Rock And Roll Hoochie Koo” sounds downright amazing by comparison.

Of course, it wouldn’t be a wrestling album without an all-star number featuring the best and biggest WWE superstars. For the first album that track was The Wrestlers’ take on the classic “Land Of A Thousand Dances,” a cover that could be generously described as a sonic abortion.

This time around its an original tune entitled “If You Only Knew” and it’s…kinda funny.

I think all my praise of this record benefits greatly from lowered expectations thanks to the absolute horrid nature of the first album, but I really don’t think this song is all that bad. It’s definitely a better fit for The Wrestlers, a joke track about all the painful things they’re going to do to the song’s unnamed antagonist, than a cover tune of a 60s novelty track.

It also makes better use of the individual wrestlers, giving many of the biggest names of the time their own lines to sing, including the Million Dollar Man, the Honky Tonk Man, Slick, Jimmy Hart (giving his best vocal performance on any WWF album), Macho Man, Koko B. Ware, Junkyard Dog and Hulk Hogan.

Next week, no more wrestling.

Sorry.

I got a few new followers it seems, so I’d like to let all of you know that I actually have another website called Mostly-Retro, where I ramble about all things music, movies and games (but mostly music). Check it out. Right now I’m writing about obscure grunge rock. I’m sure that appeals to someone either than me. Maybe.

Moving on. When I posted Hulk Hogan & Itch-Band a few weeks back I had a sneaking suspicion that it would catch on and gain some traction with the online wrestling community. However, I didn’t suspect that it would be the most popular thing I’ve written all year. Like, by a lot. My hits usually hover in the mid-to-high hundreds. That one garnered me a few thousand. And if I’m anything I’m a sucker for attention so, congratulations you all, you made me do this.

The Wrestling Album (Complete Album Download)
The Wrestling Album, released in 1985 and the he first WWF/WWE album. It was produced mostly by Rick Derringer with some assist by Cyndi Lauper, under the pseudonym of Mona Flambe. It features 10 tracks in total, and is a combination of wrestler theme music, oldies covers, a few comedic bits and original tunes. All singing duties on the album are performed by either wrestlers or other WWF personnel, with appearances by Junkyward Dog, Jimmy Hart, ‘Captain’ Lou Albano, and many others. The album is mostly known for its all-star single, a cover of “Land Of 1,000 Dances ?!!?” that features pretty much every wrestler the WWF had at the time.

Oh. And its the worst album I’ve ever heard in my entire life.

And that’s really saying something! Because A: I’ve listened to a lot of shitty albums and B: I actually like two tracks on this record. But it goes to show you just how damn bad the rest of it is.

But before I get to the dogshit, the good tracks. First up, Derrenger’s “Real American.” While it’s most famous for being Hulk Hogan’s theme music during the majority of his time in the WWF, here the song is billed as the theme music to the U.S. Express tag team. However, they bailed on the WWF not long after this album came out, so the song was re-purposed as the Hulkster’s theme music. Still a classic, I get goosebumps of nostalgia every time I play it. Not just that, I do think it’s an honest-to-goodness good song. Not many songs can be blatantly patriotic while avoiding sounding nationalistic, so good job on Derringer for pulling it off.

Trivia note: the backup vocals are by Cyndi Lauper!

The other good track is “Hulk Hogan’s Theme.” This served as the theme to Hulk’s cartoon and was, as the title suggests, was also Hulk’s theme song for about five minutes in 1984. This track was written by Jim Steinman of Meat Loaf fame, and would go on to be reworked as “Ravishing” by Bonnie Tyler. So yeah, it’s an alright tune.

Okay, now that I got that out of the way – everything else on this album is dogshit of the worst variety. “Mean” Gene Okerlund covers “Tutti Frutti” and it’s abysmal. Jimmy Hart drops the dis track “Eat Your Hart Out Rick Springfield” and – wait a second, “Hart?” Is Jimmy Hart asking Rick Springfield to eat…okay I’m gonna move on now before I get incredibly unfortunate mental pictures stuck in my head.

One of the stranger tracks on the album is “Rowdy” Roddy Piper covering the obscure Mike Angelo & The Idols’ track “Fuck Everybody” renamed to “For Everybody.” This, of course, completely changes the meaning of the song into complete nonsense, but that’s the least of its problems as Roddy can’t sing for shit. Seriously, he sounds like someone is pulling out his testicle hair with a pair of tweezers. There’s a reason why They Live didn’t have a musical number.

Junkyard Dog, Hillbilly Jim’s , and Nikoli Volkoff all have songs too, but they’re just run-of-the-mill horrible and barely worth talking about. What is worth talking about, however, is “Captain Lou’s History Of Music/Captain Lou.” This is the worst song I’ve ever heard in my entire life. No question. The constant wailing by The Animal, the hideous carnivalesque music, the bland production (thanks to Cyndi Lauper) and, at the forefront of the shit, Captain Lou’s atrocious, hideous, craptastic singing. If you have any esteem for Captain Lou, wrestling, Cyndi Lauper or pretty much “the 80s” as a singular thing, you’ve been warned – this might destroy all of that.

As for the all-star rendition of “Land of 1,000 Dances ?!!?,” well, that’s just kind of cute. I mean, yes, its horrible and not a single wrestler who makes an appearance on the track can actually sing, but none of them are really trying to. It’s just a joke track, a novelty number and nothing more. Yeah, the joke is horrible and the novelty wears off after about one minute, but it’s a hard song to outright hate. Or maybe my hatred for it is just dulled because, when compared to the sonic manure that makes up the rest of the record, it’s downright Grammy-worthy.

The WWF certainly thought the track was noteworthy. It was the only song from the album to get a video, and they even released it as a 12″ single, complete with an extended version and an instrumental. Now, I know what you’re thinking, what idiot would be dumb enough to buy that?

Yo.

The Wrestlers
Land Of 1,000 Dances (Dance Version)
Land Of 1,000 Dances (Instrumental Version)
So if you were listening to the album version of this track and thought, “you know what? This needs to be about two minutes longer and end with a wicked drum solo,” then you are in luck. As for the instrumental, you should download it just so when people ask you “what’s the dumbest, most pointless song in your MP3 collection? you have an easy answer.

Enjoy the horribleness. One more wrestling album coming soon.

It’s slightly better than this one.

Slightly.

Hulk Hogan & Itch-Band
Itch Ban
Night Home
You’ve Got To Leave
Axboomba

From 1972 to 1976, Telly Savalas, better known as TV’s Kojack, released four albums. All of them are generally regarded as being horrible mistakes that should have never existed in this reality or another. Today they are forgotten, and justly so. However, I remember reading once that, when asked years later, why he released not one, but FOUR horribly hideous albums, Savalas replied simply, “they let me.”

I feel that a similar explanation probably lies behind Hulk Hogan & Itch-Band, the Hulkster’s 1983 self-titled EP that was released only in Japan. He must have said to someone “I want to release an album” and that someone had enough power somewhere to let that happen. That person must be put on trial for crimes against humanity.

The album was recorded and released during the tail end of Hulk’s run in the New Japan Pro Wrestling League, where Hogan was so damn popular that his nickname was simply “Ichiban” which means “Number One.” I guess that partially explains why Hogan’s band name is “Itch-Band,” but why they just didn’t go with “Ichiband” is beyond me.

There are four songs on Hulk Hogan & Itch-Band. The first is “Itch Ban,” a self-aggrandizing boast track where Hogan exalts the power of his wrestling skills; his massive wealth; and even his cameo appearance in Rocky III, all to a disco-funk beat and a chant-like chorus of “Ichiban is Hogan San! Hogan is our Champion! Ichiban Is Hogan San! Hogan is number one!”

And it must be said, right up front, that Hogan’s singing voice is one of the most atrociously awful singing voices I have ever had the extreme displeasure of hearing in my entire life. It is so horrific that I didn’t actually recognize it as his voice the first time I listened to the record. I guess I expected Hogan to sing like he talks, all deep and gutteral and “what’s you gonna do brother!” But instead he sings in this bizarre high-pitch with a strange accent that sounds like…I don’t even know how to describe it….like a mentally handicapped Hanna-Barbara cartoon villain? You know how the bad guys in cartoons always make that “bwa ha ha” laugh? That’s Hogan’s singing voice…maybe with a touch of Jimmy Hart thrown in for good measure.  It’s something that has to be experienced, it escapes words.

After that nightmare abortion from hell we’re treated to “Night Home” a quiet instrumental number where Hogan gets to showcase his…surprisingly decent bass skills. That’s right, Hogan plays bass, and he’s not that bad! Who knew? Actually, as a whole the music on Hulk Hogan & Itch-Band isn’t horrible – it’s just Hogan’s singing voice and the ridiculous lyrics that sink it, both of which return after that instrumental interlude.

First, we’re treated to “You’ve Got To Leave,” where Hogan laments his upcoming departure back to the states, followed by “Axboomba,” an ode to Hogan’s then-finishing move of a running arm lariat (and totally not as cool as the flying leg drop). Throughout both Hogan’s vocals rest somewhere between the sound of nails on a chalk board and the howls of a cat in heat in terms of annoyance and auditory displeasure.

Hulk Hogan & Itch-Band might be one of the worst records I’ve ever bought. Although musically benign, Hogan’s horrific howling, matched up with some inane self-important lyrics, truly outshine any talent that was put into the music. Beyond hideous from start to finish, its only saving grace is that, with a brief four tracks and a running time under 12 minutes, it manages to stay firmly in so-bad-it’s-entertaining territory simply because of its brevity.

But it’s still better than WWF’s Wrestling Album. At least it doesn’t have Mean Gene singing “Tutti Frutti.”