Archive for the ‘MUSIC’ Category

Anna B Savage  - A Common Turn

The latest apple of our eye, Anna B Savage, is putting out her debut via City Slang Records in a couple of weeks, and I can personally say that there hasn’t been a debut I’ve been this excited about in quite some time. The stunning video for the London singer’s unbelievably vulnerable first single off of “A Common Turn”, “Chelsea Hotel #3,” has been on a near loop at my house since it came out nearly a year ago, and its follow-ups have been just as arresting. In addition to having the privilege of pressing A Common Turn to vinyl,

The London based singer-songwriter Anna B Savage makes question-mark-music, captivating and powerful, navigating various recurring themes including female sexuality, self-doubt … and birds. Often questioning the validity of her own thoughts and feelings, her songs are heavy with unanswered queries. Is this even real? Do we have what I think we have? How did I get to this point? Is anyone listening? Or the record’s opening and most potent question: “Do I understand this?”.

Yet these questions are buoyed by her ability to conjure melodies and lyrics so devastatingly candid, vulnerable and honest, that somehow still manage to be bewitchingly charming, utterly modern and often funny. ‘A Common Turn.’ “For me, ‘a common turn’ is those moments of decision where you think ‘I’m not taking this anymore, whether it’s the way someone else is treating you or the what you’re treating yourself” Savage explains.

From a young age, Savage has also always been surrounded by music. The daughter of two classical singers, Savage spent her childhood birthdays in the green room at the Royal Albert Hall, as her birthday falls on the day Bach died and her parents were booked to play the Bach Proms each year. Her 2015 EP was deeply intriguing as a project, it contained four songs, all of which paired Savage’s deep, rich voice with lyrics rife with insecurity and unfinished business and was released with very little accompanying information about the artist.

The success of the EP caught Savage off guard, triggering a form of imposter syndrome, stifling her writing and ultimately affecting her mental health. At her lowest point Savage wasn’t sure if she could continue making music. At one stage her well-meaning parents started to cut out arts administration jobs for her and put them on the bed for when she arrived home.

In the five years between her first release and this forthcoming one, Savage ended the bad relationship mentioned previously (“I was so small by the end of it”), took up odd jobs, moved across the world twice, got herself a lot of therapy and eventually built herself from the ground up again. “I sat in the sun and read, and I ran my book club, and I went swimming in the Ladies Pond, and I went on trips, and I got drunk, started smoking again and going to parties, and I started dancing again and seeing my friends and, most miraculous of all, I started to like myself.”

For the last three years, focused and reenergised, Savage wrote music for her debut album, stitching together influences and references “One month I printed out all the lyrics, blu-tacked them to my wall, and drew lines between each corresponding idea. Making sure I’d lyrically covered all the themes I wanted to, linking ideas, deleting repeats, and making me look like a literary serial killer”. The album is littered with personal and cultural references (Rocky Horror Picture Show, the Spice Girls, female pleasure, mental health, and a ceramic owl mug by Scottish alt-rock legend Edwyn Collins, among others), all of which are now sewn into her music like talismans.

Savage got in touch with William Doyle, (FKA East India Youth – 2014 Mercury Prize nominee)’ having seen his social media post asking artists to contact him if they wanted to experiment together. From their first meeting, William provided ambitious yet elegant production to the demos Anna brought him, and ultimately gave a definitive shape to the record she had at one point deemed officially impossible to finish. Theirs is a blending of earth and industry, of human feeling and mechanized deconstruction of expectations and barriers. As a pair, they were able to make a record that is, in Savage’s words, “about learning, adapting, growing, being earnest and trying really f***ing hard.”

Savage’s music is deeply vulnerable, without being submissive. The subject matter could weigh these songs down, but instead they soar as she lays claim to her own fragility. There’s an intoxicating catharsis woven through the album and the stories she tells are of taking up space, finding connections, and owning the power in not knowing all the answers. Hers are songs for anyone who thinks hard, feels deeply, and asks big questions.

During the years since the release of her debut EP, Savage has also been making a film with two collaborators. The film can be read as in conversation with this album. More details of that will be released at a later date.

“As mentioned in Chelsea Hotel #3, I’m done with being ashamed in any way of taking ownership of my own pleasure. This whole album is about questioning, exploration and trying really fucking hard. Hopefully a vibrator is a good companion for most of these things. To sum it up in two words: wank more.” –Anna B Savage

Something Else by The Kinks

‘The Village Green Preservation Society‘ may the one that gets all the plaudits, but ‘Something Else’ can lay claim to being just as good in it’s own way, featuring some of the best of Ray Davies’ songwriting, which of course means it’s up there with the some of the best song writing ever.

Apart from “End of the Season”, the album was recorded between the autumn of 1966 and the summer of 1967, when the Kinks had cut back on touring and had begun recording and stockpiling songs for Davies’s as-yet poorly defined “Village Green” project. The song “Village Green” was recorded in November 1966 during the sessions for the album, but was released on a French EP in 1967 and did not appear on a Kinks LP until the next release, The Kinks Are the Village Green Preservation Society.

Opening with public school satire ‘David Watts’ (later made famous by The Jam), ‘Something Else’ is a bit of a dry run for ‘Village Green‘, lacking the overarching concept, but still rating high on essential Englishness and also delving into such standard Davies topics as identikit suburbia (‘Tin Soldier’), idle affluence (‘End of the Season) and sibling rivalry (‘Two Sisters’, apparently a coded comment on the band’s brother problems). What does it sound like? Well, it sounds like The Kinks, that is to say that there’s plenty of sprightly sixties RnB based guitar pop, a bit of copycat psychedelia (Davies was never one to overlook to convenience of hijacking bandwagons), some Cockney knees-up pleasantries (Dave Davies’ ‘Death of a Clown’) and enough good humour and essential pathos for most bands to base their entire careers on.

‘Afternoon Tea’, with it’s understated, very British sense of romance and charming, Davies brothers vocal interplay, would be quite enough to carry the LP on it’s own, but alongside the infectious ‘Harry Rag’, ‘David Watts’, ‘Lazy Old Sun’ and the rest, ‘Something Else’ is easily capable of unveiling masterpieces one after another. There is a little filler – Dave Davies’ other compositions don’t quite come up to the mark and ‘Situations Vacant’ is distinctly Kinks by numbers, but all in all this is an essential album by a band too often dismissed as a ‘singles act’. Oh, and it’s got ‘Waterloo Sunset’ on it – what else could you possibly want from a Kinks album?

A classic from the archives, “Something Else” is the fifth studio album by The Kinks and gets a loving reissue on Sanctuary Records. On 140g vinyl with the original UK track-listing, it’s the last Kinks album to be produced by Shel Talmy and showcases one part of a mid-career high that’s still an influence today. Out on vinyl LP from Sanctuary Records.

Originally Released 15th September 1967

Jimi Hendrix’s 'Band of Gypsys' set for 50th anniversary vinyl reissue

It may seem like it would take a lot to be banned from an entire TV channel, but Jimi Hendrix made it happened with one singular performance. In 1969, Jimi Hendrix would find himself, in quick succession, both making a legendary prime time appearance on BBC television and, just a few songs later, banned from the channel indefinitely for an impromptu tribute to Cream.

While London was positively swinging with rock ‘n’ roll creativity in the sixties, the BBC was still a very stuffy, starch-collar-shirted, stiff-upper-lipped, establishment capable of making rash decisions over the smallest indiscretions. They were likely unhappy about even inviting the mercurial counter culture poster boy, Jimi Hendrix on to the prime time TV show hosted by Lulu, in the first place. They were certainly unhappy with his performance.

Although Lulu could have a subversive side, she was still the natural choice for the BBC when they were sketching out their intent to capture the viewership of the growing counterculture movement. Lulu represented a perfect crossover of styles — having been friends with The Beatles she had some reputation but her bubbly, charming, and well-mannered tone and straight-laced image made her the perfect candidate for the BBC’s new primetime show Happening For Lulu.

The show would air just before the 6 o’clock news, a prime time slot, and was the home to some of the country’s brightest and best musicians. Welcoming artists from the pop music bubble wielding their guitars with their long hair and floral clothing — they were an affront to everything the BBC stood for at the time. But the Beeb needed viewers, so they had to invite the scene’s most daring acts. During the late sixties, there was only one man who could truly live up to that hype, the only act which could spark a revolution with one single note, Jimi Hendrix and his band The Experience. They were a phenomenon that was about to sweep the entire world.

The group were invited to the show with the expectation that they would comply, not only with the show’s practices but also with the BBC’s rigorous straight-laced demands. The first of which would see the band perform two hits, their brilliant song ‘Voodoo Child’ and their latest hit ‘Hey Joe’, to an adoring audience. They were also expected to have Lulu join Jimi and the rest of the group on the latter song to perform a cringeworthy duet.

The scene that Mitch Mitchell and the rest of Jimi Hendrix Experience found when they walked into the studio was, as Mitchell describes in his memoir, “so straight it was only natural that we would try to combat that atmosphere by having a smoke in our dressing room.”

As Open Culture reports, he continues: “In our haste, the lump of hash got away and slipped down the sink drainpipe. Panic! We just couldn’t do this show straight — Lulu didn’t approve of smoking! She was then married to Maurice Gibb of the Bee Gees, whom I’d visited and shared a smoke with. I could always tell Lulu was due home when Maurice started throwing open all the windows. “Anyway, I found a maintenance man and begged tools from him with the story of a lost ring. He was too helpful, offering to dismantle the drain for us. It took ages to dissuade him, but we succeeded in our task and had a great smoke.”

They walked into the studio and began to tune up their instruments and wow the crowd with a spellbinding rendition of ‘Voodoo Child’, which must’ve truly shaken audiences out of their wingback chairs at home. It really is one of the best Jimi Hendrix performances of the song you are likely to see. As the track played the beginning of Hendrix’s ban would start to present themselves.

“That was really hot,” said Lulu as the notes of ‘Voodoo Child’ subsided and the crowd’s cheering rested, left agog by Hendrix and the rest of the band’s talent. “Yeah. Well, ladies and gentlemen, in case you didn’t know, Jimi and the boys won, in a big American magazine called Billboard, the group of the year.” At this moment a sudden, and apparently accidental, piece of feedback shook Lulu off her notes and left Hendrix smiling.

A showbiz pro, Lulu continued: “And they’re gonna sing for you now the song that absolutely made them in this country, and I’d love to hear them sing it: ‘Hey Joe.’

On that very day, another moment in musical history had already taken place, which would have shaken the British rock elite’s core. The British supergroup Cream had announced their split. Comprised of Eric Clapton, Jack Bruce and Ginger Baker, the group represented the higher echelons of rock and roll and especially British music. Hendrix knew this first hand and knew that their demise was a sign of things to come — the sixties couldn’t last forever.

The guitarist had been at a Cream jam-session when he first introduced himself to the music scene here in the UK and ever since they had remained a firm favourite for the mercurial musician.

So only a few bars into their latest single, on a nationally televised live performance, Hendrix stops the music and says “We’d like to stop playing this rubbish and dedicate a song to the Cream, regardless of what kind of group they may be in. We dedicate this to Eric Clapton, Ginger Baker and Jack Bruce.” The band then give a truly magnificent performance of Cream’s song ‘Sunshine of Your Love’ and brought the house down.

Noel Redding said of the story: “This was fun for us, but producer Stanley Dorfman didn’t take it at all well as the minutes ticked by on his live show. Short of running onto the set to stop us or pulling the plug, there was nothing he could do. We played past the point where Lulu might have joined us, played through the time for talking at the end, played through Stanley tearing his hair, pointing to his watch and silently screaming at us. We played out the show.

“Afterwards, Dorfman refused to speak to us, but the result is one of the most widely used bits of film we ever did. Certainly, it’s the most relaxed.” It would see The Jimi Hendrix Experience banned from the BBC for life but would live on as a moment of rock and roll history unlike any other.

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Real Estate bassist Alex Bleeker doesn’t fall too far from the tree with his solo work. That’s not a bad thing at all, “La La La” is a sunny bit of jangly pop that may warm up your January just a little. It’s from his new album Heaven on the Faultline which is out March 5th. The new album “Heaven on the Faultline”, which departs from his last full-band outing as Alex Bleeker and the Freaks, 2015’s Country Agenda. Whereas that album had a more full-bodied explicitly folk-y feel, Heaven on the Faultline finds Bleeker getting back to his homespun roots over the course of its 13 songs, from the jangly guitar pop of New Jersey heroes the Feelies and YLT’s hushed, acoustic reveries to the open-hearted folk rock that marks so much of the Grateful Dead’s early catalogue. Written and recorded over the last several years, Heaven on the Faultline’s songs were initially recorded straight to GarageBand in Bleeker’s bedroom before receiving further studio refinement in co-producer Phil Hartunian’s Tropico Beauty space in Los Angeles.

With contributions from Confusing Mix of Nations’ Josh Da Costa, Cameron Stallones of Sun Araw, singer-songwriter Kacey Johansing, and Parting Lines’ Tim Ramsey, Heaven on the Faultline achieves a warm and intimate feel that defines Bleeker’s mission for the album: “I wanted to capture the moment in which I fell in love with making music to begin with. This is music for myself—me getting back to music for music’s sake.” The unsteady times we live in certainly creep into view on Heaven on the Faultline. The deceptively easygoing “D Plus” was written on the day of President Donald Trump’s inauguration with the cursed event in mind, while the anxiety of climate change hovers just above the lovely guitar loops of “Felty Feel.”

“The album is very much about dealing with the anxiety of a sense of impending doom,” Bleeker states while discussing the album’s portentous vibes. “When is the hammer going to fall? How do we go forward in the face of such anxiety and experience the complexity of life?” Tough questions with few answers, but try not to stress too much. It’s possible to experience such existential doubt while also enjoying the simple pleasures that life has to offer, and that ethos is square at the heart of Heaven on the Faultline. It defines who Alex Bleeker is, too, and is one of many reasons why I’m proud to have known this special person and artist for so long.

Night Bloom Records is a small independent label founded by friends Kacey Johansing, Jeff Manson and Alex Bleeker. We are based out of Los Angeles and West Marin, California . We feel deeply honored to be able to share music by people whom we deeply admire. Thank you for listening!

From the Album “Heaven on the Faultline” out 3/5/21 on Night Bloom Records

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Last year, Hum released their excellent comeback album “Inlet so we’re excited to learn that they’ll be giving remastered, higher quality pressing reissues to their classic albums Electra 2000 (1993) and You’d Prefer An Astronaut (1995) soon too! Guitarist Tim Lash writes:

Hi all, First off, the band sincerely appreciates all of the generous support and kind words we’ve received after releasing Inlet. We’re not the best at responding, but it means a lot. So thanks again, from all of us! Over the last few months, we’ve successfully navigated through some licensing stuff allowing us to re-release updated versions of Electra 2000, and You’d Prefer An Astronaut on vinyl. Our plan involves re-mastering and cutting higher quality pressings of these two records. Our hope is to do CD’s as well if possible. We’ll post another update once we iron out all of the details on release dates, label, etc… Since we’ve seen some inflated prices on the secondary market for our older records, we wanted to let people know as soon as possible. If folks don’t mind waiting a little longer, we’ll be able to produce a higher quality pressing that we have control over, and are proud of.

We’ll also have more copies of our Downward is Heavenward re-issue available in the near future as well. We hope you all are healthy and well, and 2021 turns out to be a little easier for everyone. 

As Tim said, more copies of the recent Downward is Heavenward (1998) reissue are on the way too. It’s currently sold out in the Earth Analog store but stay tuned. Last month, the band advised to avoid the secondary market because “you’ll just end up paying more than it’s worth.”

ROCK POSTERS – Martin Ritchie Sharp

Posted: January 21, 2021 in MUSIC
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Martin Ritchie Sharp (21 January 1942 – 1 December 2013) was an Australian artist, cartoonist, songwriter and film-maker. His psychedelic posters of Bob Dylan, Donovan and others, rank as classics of the genre. Martin co-wrote one of Cream’s best known songs, “Tales of Brave Ulysses”, created the cover art for Cream’s Disraeli Gears and Wheels of Fire albums.

Jack James is the voice, a slender boy from Texas with a penchant for glitter and Oscar Wilde, who came down from another planet to be the rock star of the future. David Strange is the sword, a grisled poet and carpenter who can build anything, writing sonnets and summoning demons on his guitar. Kemp is the brain, a crazed scientist who composes prog riffs and surrealist visuals, leading the three into the great abyss.

Gunpowder was invented for fireworks. A spectacle of beauty. But somewhere along the way it mutated into The Good, the Bad and the Ugly. Suddenly a village idiot could obliterate a Samurai without getting close enough to smell his blood type. A lifetime of training felled by a trembling finger. Video killed the radio star, but who killed JFK? Pop culture popping a cap as incels pop pimples and Kendall Jenner proffers soda pop to angry mobs. Semi automatic, autoerotic. A Glock as reproductive organ that inseminates life in reverse. Rap, country, cop and anarchist alike can all agree on one thing: the gun as penis.

Musically, they gleefully crush the zeitgeist beneath their fashionable heels, opting for a mix of ’70s art-prog and sludge metal, as filtered through a more gothic sounding Smashing Pumpkins (trust us, you’ll get it when you listen to it). Singer Jack James’ ghostly falsetto only makes the proceedings all the more eerie and disconcerting.

Bassist/director/model/ennui-coordinator Charlotte Kemp Muhl (who is also in Ghost of a Sabre Tooth Tiger with Sean Lennon), enigmatically explains, “Crispr, gene drive, cosmetic surgery, eugenics, life extension, uploading consciousness to the cloud, bifurcation of those that can afford it and those that cannot…we are entering a post-flesh world. ‘DNA’ is about our severance with all that makes us human and entering the next phase of evolution, molding ourselves into digital Demi Gods with perfect silicone bodies. Would you make this Faustian deal with technology, or retreat to the forest…?”

Distributed by Chimera Music

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The phrase “drunk tank pink” that Shame take the name of their new album from refers to the shade of paint used to pacify inhabitants of European jails who were picked up for disorderly conduct while inebriated. It’s also the colour of the closet-sized apartment frontman Charlie Steen shared with guitarist Sean Coyle-Smith though, in the context of their new album, I imagine it’s a more metaphorical usage, one referring to the reeling in of the group’s chaotic tendencies.

The result of (per Steen) “a bath and a good night’s sleep,” Drunk Tank Pink continues the rousing tradition of the Shame project by relying on heavy experimentalism rather than the relentless punk that fuelled 2018’s preceding “Songs of Praise”. While more grounded than the chic, Black Midi-fied post-punk of fellow English acts like Black Country New Road and Squid, DTP sounds like the work of a band who’s fed up with the constraints of genre.

With the LP dropping today, we reached out to the band for a behind-the-scenes look at each track on the project, detailing themes ranging from “the beauty of all canines” to  “lust and puppets.”

1. “Alphabet”

A direct question to the audience and the performer as to whether any of this will ever be enough to reach satisfaction. The genius of Drunk Tank Pink is how these lyrical themes dovetail with the music. Opener Alphabet dissects the premise of performance over a siren call of nervous, jerking guitars, its chorus thrown out like a beer bottle across a mosh pit. Songs spin off and lurch into unexpected directions throughout here,

2. “Nigel Hitter”

This song focuses on daily routine, the motions we go through, and how extraordinary all this seemed to me after coming home from touring.

3. “Born in Luton”

“Born in Luton” is about being locked outside a flat. It exaggerates the mundane and makes it into something unique and overtly dramatic.

4. “March Day”

This is about my consistent unwillingness to wake up on time—my obsession and devotion to my bed and my bedroom.  March Day’s escalating aural panic attack 

5. “Water in the Well”

Over the last few years we’ve been consistently inspired by the people we’ve met and the places we’ve been. All these locations and characters have an effect on us and seep their way into this song, including “Acid Dad,” the name of the person who runs Dewar Farm in which we wrote a lot of DTP. 

6. “Snow Day”

A lot of this album focuses on the subconscious and dreams, this song being the pivotal moment of these themes. A song about love that is lost and the comfort and displeasure that comes after you close your eyes, fall into sleep, and are forced to confront yourself. the shapeshifting darkness of Snow Day

7. “Human, for a Minute”

The first song we wrote after Songs of Praise, the main focus being on a relationship slipping away and the discovery of my own identity through this collapse. There’s a Berlin era Bowie beauty to the lovelorn Human For A Minute .

From the womb to the clouds (sort of), Shame are currently very much in the pink.

8. “Great Dog”

One of the first ones we got down in Dewar Farm for DTP, a nonsense song about the perks of thievery and the beauty of all canines. 

9. “6/1”

An intense evaluation of myself, exploiting my flaws, fears, and narcissism. 

10. “Harsh Degrees”

A song of lust and puppets. 

11. “Station Wagon”

Closer Station Wagon weaves from a downbeat mooch into a souring, soul- lifting climax in which Steen elevates himself beyond the clouds and into the heavens. Or at least that’s what it sounds like. A final conversation with myself and an ode to the great Sir Elton John at the end.

There are moments on “Drunk Tank Pink” where you almost have to reach for the sleeve to check this is the same band who made 2018’s Songs Of Praise. Such is the jump Shame have made from the riotous post-punk of their debut to the sprawling adventurism and twitching anxieties laid out here. The South Londoner’s blood and guts spirit, that wink and grin of devious charm, is still present, it’s just that it’s grown into something bigger, something deeper, more ambitious and unflinchingly honest.

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A perfect pairing is a joy to come by, and a blind pairing is even finer; here, a role of dice slides Bill Callahan into Jerry Jeff Walker’s big shoes to walk over an ethereal Mojave country take on Mike Burton’s classic cowboy tune, courtesy of Wand’s Cory Hanson, shape-shifting into his solo persona with ease, and giving Bill and Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy plenty of room to display theirs too. Cover artwork by Aline Cautis, shown as part of the group show “The Monochrome Set”, at Soccer Club Club, October 2018.

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Released January 20th, 2021

In 1969, The Stooges were a truth serum, forcing hippiedom to belch up the reality that flowers and hope had become just another guise for hucksters and snake-oil salesmen to take advantage of the naïve. By 1973, however, The Stooges were no longer the mirror to an era’s hypocrisy. They were the representatives par excellence of desiccated overindulgence and self-destruction. Too many bad shows, too many blatantly underage groupies, too much booze, too high — way too high. While The Stooges’ noise-rotted nihilism, originality, and underrated musicianship have ensured their longevity, the final six months of the band, as captured on Cherry Red’s new box-set, “You Think You’re Bad Man: The Road Tapes ’73 – ’74” were a squalid and chemically-warped stagger toward total collapse.

The five live shows captured are all previously released, originally licensed by Tony DeFries’ MainMan management company to record labels like Revenge, Bomp!, and Jungle during the 1980s and 1990s. However, this box-set is a very welcome tidying up exercise with good packaging and liner notes, all at a fair price. For decades, delving into the vast quantity of Stooges deep-cuts meant investing in a chaotic mishmash of compilations, so the 21st century has been wonderful in terms of labels (Easy Action in particular) bringing professional curation to the Stooges output. This Cherry Red Records compilation is a part of that positive trend, and one can only hope they get a similar grip on the many studio demos still out there.

Going on tour with the defeated, newly label-less StoogesLos Angeles to Baltimore to New York, battered and defeated to their home, Detroit—via this Cherry Red box is akin to living through the hell of the worst tour ever, driving on Highway 1 with a cheap 1965 Chevy, low on gas, with its tires on fire and an incessant burning oil smell on your clothes. The car radio? Its speakers are blown, the perfect shredded tone for repeated, wired versions of “Search and Destroy,” the gothic “Gimme Danger,” and the stammering “I Got Nothin’.” The Cherry Red collection is the sound of brain-numbing, aggressive anger and disgust at a thousand nights of self-inflicted road food, drugs, and fucks tucked into a clamshell box.

It didn’t take long for The Stooges to acquire an afterlife. They played their final show in February 1974. In May 1975, Nick Kent wrote a multi-page feature for NME on the ups and downs of Iggy Pop and Co. In September 1975, Sounds reviewed a new album by the defunct band titled “Metallic KO”. One side of it was recorded at that final show.

“I’m a tasteless little bastard and I really enjoy it,” wrote Giovanni Dadomo of the wreckage captured on the vinyl. “It’s no great rock ‘n’ roll record per se. What I do believe is that it’s an astonishing piece of documentary work, revealing as it does the face of rock ‘n’ roll that few singers/musicians would ever be rude, angry, wrecked or impolite to reveal. Sure, it’s crass, conceited and unjustifiably vulgar plus a hell of a lot of other singularly ‘unpleasant things’, but still I like it. A record that quite literally has to be heard to be believed.”

“Metallic KO” began an apparently never-ending series of post-split Stooges releases. Few are essential – like the wonderful “Live at Goose Lake” August 8th, 1970, released earlier this year. Most are for the committed or completists. An intermittently great and handy one-stop collection collating various previously issued live releases, the new “You Think You’re Bad, Man? The Road Tapes 1973-74″ is in the latter camp.

A five-CD clamshell box with a booklet (its band pics and the cover shot are from 1972, not the period of what’s heard), You Think You’re Bad, Man? includes these shows: The Whisky a Go Go, L.A., 16th September 1973; Michigan Palace, Detroit, 10th October 1973; The Latin Casino, Baltimore (despite the credit it’s probably Cherry Hill, New Jersey), November 1973, The Academy of Music, New York (supporting Blue Öyster Cult. Kiss were also on the bill), 31st December 1973; Michigan Palace, Detroit 9th February 1974. The two Michigan Palace were filleted for Metallic KO.

It’s a bumpy ride, not just because of the spotty sound quality which ranges from a bootlegger’s “B” to “A-“. The Whisky gig is pretty tight, and its “Search and Destroy” and “Open Up and Bleed” are great; the best versions in the box. The New York show is a disorderly mess. The two Michigan Palace shows are well known, have been round the block many times and, of them, the final outing of the band is worse than a mess. The sound quality of the relatively disciplined Baltimore show is the poorest of them all, but it does have the box’s top run-through of “I Need Somebody”.

The Stooges of this period were in choppy waters. The Raw Power album had been released in February 1973 and guitarist James Williamson left in June. After a spell as a porn cinema projectionist, he returned to the band late that month with the proviso that a piano player came on board. First, that role was filled by Bob Scheff. Then, from late July, Scott Thurston joined. He appears throughout, with plinkity-plonk or barrelhouse playing which distracts. It is no fit with the band. The Stooges did not need Mrs Mills, or any piano player. Other wobbles came when the band’s management ditched them in August. Their label Columbia had already done so.

Nonetheless, there were snatches of the positive. In Raw Power’s wake the band had new songs and were clearly thinking of their future. A lot are heard on You Think You’re Bad, Man? “Open Up And Bleed” and “Head On” are the best. “Heavy Liquid” was good. “Cock in my Pocket”, “I Got Nothin’”, which prefigures The Stones’s “Fool to Cry”, and the puerile boogie rocker “Wet My Bed” are OK. The infantile, silly “Rich Bitch” is not alright. A new album could have been made. There was label interest too. In October 1973, Elton John wanted The Stooges for his Rocket Records imprint. But it all fell apart in February 1974. You Think You’re Bad, Man? is a series of bullet points in the narrative of the band’s collapse.

These are not the only post-Raw Power shows which have been released ). The 2010 Raw Power box included a scrappy October 1973 Atlanta gig with loads of the annoying piano – it was recorded off the sound desk though, so sounded fine. The 2005 Heavy Liquid set had one from Max’s in NYC from 30th July 1973 and another played in San Francisco in January 1974, as well the Whisky show.

This endless afterlife is further confirmed by another new release. Titled From K.O. To Chaos, it’s an 8-disc box set of random Iggy sniff-snaff. It includes Metallic KO on one disc, and its source shows on another two other discs – each of which is also collected on You Think You’re Bad, Man?

Although You Think You’re Bad, Man? The Road Tapes 1973-74 says nothing new, it neatly chronicles The Stooges in the wake of Raw Power’s release. The album was recorded in September and October 1972 and a year and more later, without a label and management, they had not given up. They could be dreadful. But they could also be impressive. It’s a disparity coursing through these five discs – five discs of shows which were originally never meant to be recorded and released, or even listened to.