Issue # 43 November 2002 thewigwambam.com
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Ignoring Objectivity Since 1998 WIG WAM BAM “Albuquerque zine of music & nepotism”
LOCAL SHOWS NM venues, bands from here or there
Jon Spencer Blues Explosion, the Liars, Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Beefcake In Chains, Mr Spectacular, Dead On Point Five, Black Maria, TNA, Beef Ramp, 12-Step Rebels, GoMotorCar, Mistletoe, Pilot To Bombardier, Oktober People, Oh, Ranger!, Laurianne Fiorentino, Concepto Tambor, Nels Andrews, the Albuquerquer Blues Connection, John Trudell & Bad Dog
LOCAL SHOPS cool places where a fool and his money are soon parted
Dragon’s Lair 108 E. 21ST ST, Clovis, NM
THIS MONTH’S CONTRIBUTORS
the Prids 9/27 WAREHOUSE 21 (Satan Fe) submitted by Marvel Girl The Immortal Lee County Killers, Dan Melchior’s Broke Review, the Modey Lemon 10/5/02 Ralph’s, Fargo North Dakota submitted by Zed Stardust Sole, MC Spectacular, Godsend 10/21/02 Smooch’s submitted by The Madcow  RIO GRANDE GOLD # 1 LP, late 1970s? submitted by Honorable Mr Toilet
LOCAL SHOWS
Jon Spencer Blues Explosion, the Liars, Yeah Yeah Yeahs 9/29/02  Sunshine Theater   I’m glad that Colonel Aureliano hipped me to the Yeah Yeah Yeahs months ago because now that I know they’re on the “next big thing list” I would’ve ignored this gig altogether, trying to be the anti-hipster I foolishly imagine myself to be. Stripped down even further than past tour-mates the White Stripes, they kick Stripe ass in absolute rawness although Jack White is a more proficient musician than all of the Yeahs put together.  I’d put them (spiritually rather than musically) in  league with naked-blues revisionists like the Immortal Lee County Killers or the Gossip. This gloriously bass-less trio is fronted by the enchanting Karen O. who looks like Chrissie Hynde and Juliette Binoche rolled into one Chesire-grin songstress. Her face must hurt the next day from smiling so much, kinda like how you feel the day after eating multiple hits of acid laced with too much speed.  It was a fine but way too short set (rivaling the time it takes to listen to their EP), nevertheless worth the price of my admission and of my companion besides. The Liars made me feel the polar opposite; rave-influenced rock that makes Atari Teenage Riot’s Alec Empire look like a damn genius. An utter waste of time. I have one Boss Hog CD that I believe I’ve listened to four times in six years, never once all the way through (one of those times was this afternoon) so I wasn’t sure I’d make it very far through the Blues Explosion especially after the Liars’  less than inspirational set.   After a few songs I liked them better than I ever would have thought, reminded of nothing so much as a grunge Blues Breakers (one of the earlier hard-rocking blues bands in a revival that unfortunately led to the wretched excess of Cream and Crud Zeppelin).  My largest complaint had nothing to do with the Explosion but the dogshit sound of the Sunshine. They need  about 80,000 empty egg cartons on those bare walls. Lovelace Hospital’s operating amphitheater has better acoustics. Beefcake In Chains, Mr Spectacular, Dead On Point Five, Black Maria, TNA, Beef Ramp, 12-Step Rebels Auntie Kamille’s going away party 10/2/022 Launchpad   Our Miss Kamille is leaving us for the furthest reaches of Lexington, Kentucky not far from her old stamping grounds. Welcoming every band she sees with an excess of love and attention, travelling acts will no longer have Auntie Kamille’s Bed & Breakfast to shack up at. The way things are going around here, there may not be any bands traveling through her anymore anyway… The divine Ms. K hand-picked the line-up tonight. Good job, honey, and yes, we love ya too! Drop us a postcard, ok? Having never seen ‘em before, I liked the 12 Step Rebels pretty well but there was something missing in this three-piece. With lots of potential, I see more strengths in their rockin’ Johnny Cash countrified rave-ups rather than the dogcollar punk angle. Their strength is more chicken-fried steak and an ice-cold longneck rather than kidney-pie and a pint, if you get my drift. In the first beef-related act of the night, the boys of Beef Ramp staged some…uh… god, I hate to call it performance art because that label is so cheesy but its in that same confrontational mode. Or maybe its "confusional”? Me, I had no idea what the fuck was going on or why, something concerning lots of cigarettes and transformational masturbation. I believe confusion and obfuscation  was the point but what the fuck do I know? I thought only artsy college students did stuff like this but I don’t believe any of these guys have seen the inside of a higher institution of learning for many a moon. Expelled or graduated with honors? I ain’t sayin’. The mighty TNA took the stage for the first time in many a moon and maybe it was the mix but they seemed a bit quieter than usual. The vocals were miked so low that it might have been Tori Amos up there instead of Amy X-Rated (who slapped me across the face for telling her that ouch! ). Mid-night Penny’s voice came through lots better while Mikey and Melissa’ s rhythm section sounded sordid--I mean--solid as ever. I hope they play again soon; we need more TNA in our lives.  Black Maria’s doomrock was tight as fuck with just the right amount of spacey-ness. Besides being too heavy for my tastes, most stoner-rock bands spend too much time on the mountains of the moon but Black Maria kills right here on earth. Good shit and surprisingly un-muddled for a five-piece.    Dominic is still kickin’ with Dead On Point Five but the line-ups changes over the years have taken a toll. Dom’s writing and songs are still as strong as ever and I’m glad he’s back to being the only lead guitar (he doesn’t need anyone else) but: the testosterone-muscle rhythm section is gone, replaced with decent musicians who don’t compare with what came before. This is not a comment on the bassist & drummer themselves but on the virtuosity of the Mateo/ Tim line-up. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, Mr Spectacular beats the pants off Fatso any day (not a pretty mental picture, I know). The ex-Fatso  stripped-down-to-powerful-basics trio doesn’t bury melody under cock-rock wanking. Yay! And finally, Beefcake In Chains is heavier than before and having dropped the nekkid-gurls onstage would do well to drop the sex-centric songs and concentrate on rocking the fuck out. They’re part-way there. On a related note, this was to have been the final Phase gig but due to circumstances beyond someone or another, it was not be. Stay tuned for developments on the various splinter projects including teamings with Lou Barlow and/or Krist Novaselic…    GoMotorCar, Mistletoe, Pilot To Bombardier, Oktober People, Oh, Ranger! 10/4/02 New Mexico Showcase,  Launchpad Due to my zinester big mouth, once again people think I know what I’m talking about and asked me to judge this pre-lim Indie Rock round of the New Mexico Showcase. Although I approach with suspicion trying to figure out who’s “best”, events like this serve to bring out normal civilians who usually don’t hear anything but crappy cover bands in crappy bars. As much as lots of us may like to keep “our” scene for ourselves, it’s a fact that there’s not enough of us to wholly support the bars and labels that need more money than our deadbeat alcoholic group coughs up. I always hope that a thriving music scene will spare us from having to rely on Mike Watt or Dick Dale every eight months to prop up the alt.clubs. But given statistics --the average American buys four (four!) CDs a year-- I don’t expect this to come true. It is increasingly obvious that the lowest-common- denominator acts that play the Journal Pavilion or the Casinos are live music enough for the average mook; meanwhile the average citizen thinks like Marge Simpson in the Hullabalooza episode, “ Music is none of my business”. Generally the bands that make the Showcase grade tend towards the “pro” side rather than the tear-it-up DIY shit I favor (boo fucking hoo for me, right?). The New Mexico Music Showcase has been successful in bringing out the numbers (I overheard one guy outside say “this is the Launchpad, right?” before coming in) and for that alone it should be commended. In the long run--well, we’ll see. This is only the second year. We’ll have to wait for what the long run brings. For some reason or another, Oh, Ranger! was a “special guest” rather than a contestant; maybe they got disqualified for stuffing the ballots or stalking Michael Feferman or  something. Not having heard them for quite some time, I enjoyed their set more than in the past which goes to show that an opinion of a band can depend on what mood you’re (I’m) in. In typical non-committal fashion, I’ll say that they’re tight and together in what they do no matter whether or not it’s my preferred genre of music. It isn’t but neither was anyone else playing tonight, which was a good test of my integrity in having to evaluate on merits like musical & technical ability, originality, presence, etc (not “presents”--damn!). I  promised I’d reveal no voting records tonight in the interest of principles. That, and Feferman’s Showcase goons would beat the fuck outta me.  Speaking for myself, it was probably better to judge bands that I’m not emotionally attached to rather than, say, the Chinese Love Beads or the Alarm Clocks (whom I would’ve voted as “best of show” that afternoon over the phone to get it out of the way so that I could just have fun).  It’s technically not a vote because there’s a point system, a possible total of 100; so, the judges will think twice before giving one band each and every point (unless they’re lying bastards). It’s interesting that this can have the effect of  the total equaling more (or less) than what one might actually think of the band if points are awarded solely and objectively on each defined category.  i purposely avoided totaling the sums in my head to avoid being swayed to change any numbers in order to put someone at the top (or bottom). Wow. What a humanitarian… Oktober People: I really liked the stripped-down trio sound: clean and spare but full in its own way. Mostly (all?) new songs from a previous band, this is three guys out of four who you might alternately call Inspired By One Less. To give credit where its due, that pun isn’t mine but Mistletoe’s Axl Rose …okay, okay, it’s really Alex and though I’ve never actually heard anyone call him Axl, I’m certain that’s not original either.  Pilot To Bombardier are simply majestic in their approach although I’m still undecided as to whether I like the old trio or newer four-piece better. Unlike other three-pieces, they could never have been described as “spare”. In either incarnation, their full-on sound bludgeons you in the most pleasant way possible. Those Mistletoe dudes win the special Showcase/Wig Wam Bam award for congeniality. Their approach is almost a 360 from Pilot, sweetly played but with a touch of crunch. Xav is so cute, all the girlies wanna squeeze him. I heard them say so. Now GoMotorCar --being deviant motherfuckers--deviated furthest stylistically from the rest of the bill tonight. I hadn’t heard a set since I stumbled upon an El Paso gig of theirs a year ago and the distance from then to now is as significant as the change from Len’s old band(s) Stretch /Scenester to GMC. Powerful although I miss the keyboards a little And in my final snide-remark tonight, I notice that First Prize in a non-band Showcase Halloween contest is a trip to see the Strokes. I’m guessing that Second Prize is two trips to see the Strokes! Laurianne Fiorentino, Concepto Tambor, Nels Andrews, the Albuquerque Blues Connection 10/12/02  New Mexico Showcase Club Rhythm & Blues Another NM Showcase judgement night for your humble (?) editor who got recruited for the assignment at the last minute. Although the free drink limit was double at the Launchpad (which was, um, two), a free admit is cool plus I got to act like a bigshot and have a nice spacious table in the always-crowded Club R&B. But did it garner me any drugs or women or bribes from the competing acts? Sorry to say, none on all three counts. What a gyp! The Albuquerque Blues Connection is a crowd-pleasing get-‘em-up-and-dance band (note: dancing is always good, you slack indie-rock mofos!) and yet they aren’t anything you haven’t heard before in a blues band. Mexican Gerry (lookin’ like Wolfman Jack carryin’ a hip-hop sweat rag) and the boys are a bit too smooth for me. I prefer it more raw like Howlin’ Wolf rather than suave BB King but (no offense to anyone) the ABC kick Alex Maryol Band’s ass. And when oh when will there ever be a blues band that doesn’t use “blues” in their name? A pet peeve of mine signifying nothing but still… In any case, the Blues Connection get high marks for attitude and simply digging what they do with no apologies due to wanks like me. Next, the Tattersaints Trio--oops -- I mean, Nels Andrews and band were my fave of the night. Falling somewhere under the Insurgent Country/ Y’allternative tag, this kind of music ain’t easy to pull off and sound highly original and yet they did. A great backing band helps. When it comes down to one person and a geetar, give me Woody Guthrie or Leadbelly anyday over legions of weak strum-y singer-songwriters. And I swear sometimes it sounds like I have a crush on the guy (no offense, man, but you ain’t my type) but I can honestly say that I’ve never heard Mr Jeffrey Richards in a band that sucks.  And as many groups as this guy plays with (rivaling only the Wrecking Crew of Muscle Shoals fame or Motown’s the Funk Brothers), that says a lot about his taste and discretion. The first time I heard Nels was a couple years back in the Expatriates (or is that Ex-Patriots?) which was Mr Andrews and half of the drunkest band alive (the Impatients) and was more rocky-roll than the current line-up. I like them both but tonight deserves a simple Bravo!    Personally, my favorite percussion section is Keith Moon but Concepto Tambor pound the beats like chinga on any flat surface handy. With about eighty people onstage at any time, they play musica that most norteamericanos know little about: lots of latino rhythms like batucada that folks here are only beginning to appreciate in the popular progression from reggae riddims through World Beat.  Concepto is simple, primal and tribal in every sense but the hip-hop that’s crept in and its self-references leave me muy frio indeed. But once again, the entire crowd was jumpin’. These guys provoke more audience participation than Bob Barker and Monty Hall put together.  Actually, it ain’t all muchachos no more; they’ve have added two mujerotas, one being Monica “Sweet Lips” Delgado (ex-Red Earth, ex-Three Ball Combo). Sadly, tonight the mix excluded the timbales which literally brighten up any percussive set immeasurably but the berimbau and caxixi were delicious. Remember, oh, a couple of bands back when I said no one can strum a solo guitar in any original way? Well, as usual, I’m full of shit because Santa Fe’s Laurianne Fiorentino is amazingly resonant and accomplished. This isn’t mope-dope singer-songwriter drivel  but incredibly confident and more dynamic than many full bands. Her voice is rich and complex, quite strong enough for an a capella song although I could’ve done without the flute number (in the wrong hands, those things scare me). Fiorentino was by far the most original set of the night. John Trudell & Bad Dog 10/19/02 Who the hell is John Trudell? Apparently, none of you know because there were maybe fifty people in a place that can hold at least four times that.  You can’t call Trudell a singer; it isn’t spoken word and neither is he merely reciting. He just sort of talks in time to the music. On the surface his strongest material is overtly political, mostly centered on Native America --he’s Santee Sioux, a former AIM activist and someone who’s seen his share of troubles (years ago, the FBI burned his home killing his wife and children); under that surface however, these days he leans more towards Male/Female issues with lots of how and why did we let each other down? themes  which in their quiet presentation are deceptive because their strength hits you direct in the heart especially if you’re old enough to have sustained a few wounds there. Missed tonight by more than one audience member (hi, Dee Dee! ) was a song penned back in the Gulf War days Bombs Over Baghdad, as timely today for W. as for George Sr.  Political or love-lorn, his vision is piercing and much, much more noteworthy than his musicians who play middle-of-the-road music suited to those over thirty. For instance, his guitar players are schooled in the Jackson-Browne/ Bruce- Cockburn-back-up-band tradition of David Lindley or Jesse Ed Davis, not what you’d call rock n’ roll. Still, the man is a treasure and right on  in only the best sense of that dated phrase.
LOCAL SHOPS
Dragon’s Lair 108 E. 21ST ST. Clovis, NM Hmmm, not certain why I never wrote about Dragon’s Lair before. After all, I’ve been there, oh, about four or five times since about 1996--each time I pass through the seat of Curry County on my way to teeny places like Arch, Lingo or Pep, New Mexico (for my job; ask me later).  Clovis is the biggest town in New Mexico… east of, um, Tucumcari… and, I guess, the cultural hub around these parts. As you may imagine, most anything punk or alt is pretty much still relegated to the garage; that is, if there’s any at all to relegate.  But metal ranges far and wide and serves as an alternative to the cowtown status quo-- along with tats. Just on my short ride through town to get to the Lair, I passed two tattoo/piercing shops; this in a place where in days gone by the only tats seen would’ve been in the vein of US Marines 69th or something.  So there’s enough of a market to keep owners Dave & Tammy in business although I’ve seen it change over time. When I first found the joint, it was crammed with all kinds of cheap music back in the day when alt.rock was in its death throes but still a going concern. I picked up piles of CDs by alt.acts as well known as Garbage and L7 or as obscure as Sleeper and NY Loose, as well as for-the-music-store-trade video compilations featuring Van Gogh’s Daughter, Tonic, Republica and always (always!) a free-with-every-purchase cassette (now a CD) sampler of mostly harder stuff like Monster Magnet, Filter, Queensryche and but on occasion stuff like Maids of Gravity or Frente. Of course since most of the alt.bands I just mentioned never went much of anywhere, Dragon’s Lair was forced to sit on a bunch of crap that no one wanted (the Great Alternative Rock Glut of 1996) and probably lost their black t-shirts in the deal. Fortunately they’ve hung on but its too bad they’ve had to narrow the music considerably in number and selection concentrating on the metal-edged stuff that will move in a place like Clovis. I’d bet what keeps the place alive are the accessories like smoking supplies, t-shirts, posters, body jewelry, sword-and-sorcery wizard/dragon figurines and incense. The last item always confuses me displayed next to skulls and Coop Devil Girl decals. I still associate incense with the “groovy” head shops I used to frequent as a teen-ager.  Useless aside: Back then, kiddies, I had to take a stinking bus from Pleasant Valley Sunday suburbia to New York City and two subway lines to Greenwich Village just to find a place that would sell me rolling paper, pipe screens and a copy of R. Crumb’s Despair comix. Op art, buffalo sandals, Love Not War buttons, dirty posters of Minnie Mouse getting fucked by Goofy: that’s what I associate with incense, not head-banging metal. I dunno, maybe they use it to cover up the bong stank. It didn’t work then either; Mom knew… Anyway its always worth my while to pull into Dragon’s Lair. I spend entire days in eastern NM crawling around inside grain silos and over tractors that wouldn’t fit inside my living room with three generations of people--damn fine folks mind you--who nevertheless who would be hard-pressed to tell you who, say,  Pearl Jam is, let alone Nirvana and don’t even think about bringing up Yngwie Malmsteen. In my schizo world of 800-acre fields of organic peanuts and 800 decibel rockn’roll, the Lair is a welcome stopover where-- though the selection grows smaller each time-- I manage to find a used CD or two worth picking up. I hope they can hang on, being the only shop in town that doesn’t carry the latest Faith Hill release. Shit, they may even be the only indie-owned shop in the place.
THIS MONTH’S CONTRIBUTORS
If only in print, the following couple of reviews constitute a Phase reunion within the section we call: This Month’s Contributors the Prids 9/27 WAREHOUSE 21 (Satan Fe) submitted by Marvel Girl Never at a loss for words yet always succinct, Marvel Girl returns (yay!) with laconic observation --ed. If you walked into the room while the Prids were playing you'd feel like you were watching the band that was playing in the seedy underground nightclub in that Gen X vampire movie right before some John Woo type of shoot out was going to happen (and i mean that in a good way...) The Prids are what you would get if the Epoxies forgot to take their anti-depressants and hung out alot with the Lords of the New Church. Deep gothic female/male vocals coupled with the darker side of synth pop, including an excellent synth player and the occasional drum machine with a splash of pure punk make for a treat. The Immortal Lee County Killers, Dan Melchior’s Broke Review, the Modey Lemon 10/5/02 Ralph’s, Fargo North Dakota submitted by Zed Stardust Although Zed Stardust is working on follow-up projects after the demise of the Phase, apparently he’s got time enough on his hands to write some rants for you, dear reader, in-between hoeing the corn ( or ‘maize’) and slopping the hogs at the ol’ Stardust homeplace in Minnesota. On a side-trip for rockn’roll, Zed sends this report and the caveat: “I've been doing the drinking...I may regret sending this!” --ed. So a week ago I went to see Jon Spencer based on all the hype he's always generated. I'm constantly curious yet suspicious of hype in general. Do the masses really know what good music is? Have the masses ever really known what good music is? Here in Fargo, North Dakota we defined what good music is. Well, minus the masses of course.  Here's the TYPICAL setting:  The White Stripes.  Lineup: 2 members - 1 drummer, 1 guitar player.  Style:  Blues/Pop shit  This is probably home for most of you.   Here's the setting we were in tonight:  The Modey Lemon (I wanna call em the Modey Peaches...I don't know why)  Lineup: 2 members - 1 drummer, 1 guitar player/keyboardist.  Style:  Blues/Noise The Modey Lemon are from Pittsburgh.  They don't fuck around. I immediately wanted to make this White Stripes connection despite the fact I don't like the White Stripes at all. The truth is they are what the White Stripes wished they were. I found myself thinking that they had the fucked up psychedelic jam experimentation of the Warlocks (no, not the pre-Grateful Dead Warlocks you damn hippies) mixed with flat out rock.  The keyboard player gets points for playing well and hammering on the frets of his guitar at the same time.  The drummer gets added points for maintaining an almost robotic beat yet keeping the level of Rocky I style heart at a high.  I like you Modey Lemons. As Nardwuar taught us: "keep on rockin' in the free world.." (and yeah, he did teach us that.  Despite what an older "young" rocker would have you believe.)  Ok. So Dan Melchior's band consists of him, who once collaborated with Billy Childish (Thee Milkshakes, Thee Headcoatees, etc.), Holly Golightly as well as some other  famous types. Well, band, I like you guys but kick Dan Melchior out.  Prior to Fred Schneider of B-52s fame, prior to Johnny Rotten there existed Dan Melchior (not really... because he's younger than both of them but theoretically, in this rock n' roll universe I live in). Dan Melchior--your voice is the flat out most irritating thing I've ever heard. Take 10 parts Gilbert Godfreid and throw in some larger teeth and you get Dan Melchior.  The rest of his band had a great thing going.  I wanna say Mark Arm's the Monkeywrench travel back into the late ‘60s and encounters Elvis at the local diner type of sound.  You get points for sounding good.  Too bad your singer lost them all for you AND conned you into naming the band after him.   Setting:  The Immortal Lee County Killers  Lineup: 2 members - 1 guitar player, 1 drummer  Style:  The real fucking thing.  Heavyweight rock n' roll champions of the universe.   Move over Jon Spencer.  You're tired. Chetley Cheetah Weise kicks twice as much as you do, dresses two times better than you, drinks twice as much as you...oh ya...and he plays twice as better than you do too.  For the final blow: his teeth are twice as fucked up as yours.  The first time I saw these guys at the Vegas Shakedown last year I was thoroughly impressed.  The last time I thought about them was at the Jon Spencer show;  prior to that, upon hearing a White Stripes record.  In both situations I said "this is alright...BUT Immortal Lee walks all over these guys."   I hold that to be true.  Seeing them in small city Fargo confirmed this for me. The crowd consisted of people in flannel, one glam guy, many drunk dirty old men and a few random frat kids.  It didn't matter.  Immortal Lee was too wonderful for words.  Everyone rocked, everyone drank (from Chetley's bottle nonetheless) and everyone left with a great show to remember.   The new drummer is straight out of Deliverance. Chetley is even more drunk than the last time I saw him play.  If there's such a thing as religion I think the band is onto something.  They play, what I'll steal from their CD title, “the essential fucked up blues."  They do it well.  They drink Mad Dog while playing. They use Mad Dog to play slide guitar. They kick. They jump. They have witty things to say. They rock.   At one point the band called out the White Stripes. Calling them phonies, calling them out, calling them everything they were.  The crowd went berserk.  You know why?  Cause they finally tasted the blood of rock n' roll. Go buy The Essential Fucked Up Blues right now you heathens.   You see, these bands have some things in common.  However, the one thing the bands on this bill had in common was that they walked all over all these HYPED bands.  I give you one last gasp, masses. Trade in them White Stripes and Jon Spencer CDs for some Immortal Lee County Killers and all will be forgiven. The end. Love (from Fargo, ND),  Zed Stardust Sole, MC Spectacular, Godsend 10/21/02 Smooch’s submitted by the Madcow  Leave it to the Madcow to search out a venue that nobody else knows about --ed.  Hip-hop isn't my strong point.  This is mostly cos over the years I have had little contact with those that know it well, particularly the more "underground" hip-hop material.  And when I step into these specialty shops like the LA Underground I become intimidated cos I don't know where to start, and find myself taking refuge in this city's other local shops where I know the music a lot better. I guess that it is my own fault for not taking the time to stop and ask someone. A new year's resolution perhaps...  all this leads to the following review probably not using the correct terminology and genre identifications that I could normally pull off in other reviews (ie - indie, emo, screamo, hardcore ,grind, metal-core, wanky cock rock, pure crap, etc.). So be it. I like hip-hop and rap, and will eventually take the time to know it more intimately. So, I have been trying for a few years now to catch some live Hip-Hop/Rap in this town, but the only thing I ever come across are the high dollar shows down at the Sunshine.  Now it was time to see some "underground" rap/hip-hop for under $10.  $6 for the entry, and another $3 for a beer... not bad. There are a lot of people that I do not recognize.  I have entered into a "scene" which is alien to me.  I am excited. I like hip-hop, and here it is going to be right in front of me.. I  just imagine a small live band or maybe a DJ accompanying the emcee.  Oooh, Aaah. First to hit the small stage at Smooch's (formerly the Fajita Factory) was Godsend, a local lyricist from Santa Fe.  He started off his first song and about half way through it the CD started to stop and skip.  He restarted after setting the Anti-skip function. Hmmm... He plowed through a couple of more songs with a rapid fire rhythm... each time walking over to the CD player and stopping the song mid measure.  He was joined by MC Spectacular  who looked like a cross between a Las Vegas lounge singer and a blonde college chemistry major. The word "geek" crossed my mind, and not as an insult (I am one half geek, the other half being "nerd"). They rapped back and forth for a while on a few songs, each time stepping over to the CD player to stop and start the tracks. Godsend eventually stepped off the stage and let "Spectacular" plow through his set.  He went through some more songs, starting and stopping the CD player as necessary. At one point he pointed out that he "wrote this beat" himself. Christ, how fucking hard is it to program  kick _ snare _ kick _ kick  _ snare / kick _snare  _ pause _ kick _ snare and then repeat for 4 minutes? OK, so his major talents must just be in his rhyming and rhythm, sure. Well, I still ended up with a CD, and have to say that --save it for when it is something noteworthy.  Sole of the Anticon hip-hop collective was up next. I am looking, waiting for the band, or DJ to also step up. Waiting...  Sole starts his thing without any music. This is great. Then when finished with his first piece, walks over to the CD player and presses play. Now all I think is "Hell, not more of this" but of course I originally used a harsher expletive. He finishes his rhyme and walks over to the CD player and presses stop in mid measure. This repeats throughout the rest of his set. Occasionally he just does his thing without the CD player, which I wish that he would have done the entire set.  Two or three of the songs he points out that he wrote the beat and/or music, and on one track even played the guitar on the recording --all three chords!!! Whoop-dee-dooo!  Either stick to the rhymes or take more time to write a freakin' beat. As far as a lyricist goes-- not much to say, but has a lot of ways to say it.  Most of what I could make out didn't make sense, so I just assumed it was to fill in a rhythm which was fine with me. He does it well.  The CD is alright, I have listened to it a couple of times now and will again. Despite the shortcomings of the artists using a CD player, I did enjoy myself.  I will continue my pursuit of decent underground hip-hop shows in this town and elsewhere much as I do with other styles of music. This was only a beginning.  Hell, maybe I will start trying to book hip-hop shows or try to find the locals and put them on the hardcore and indie shows that I book. We'll see.    RIO GRANDE GOLD # 1 LP, late 1970s? submitted by Honorable Mr Toilet The Honorable Mr Toilet has once again unearthed a vintage New Mexico recording and dissected it’s corpse for your auditory and literary pleasure. --ed. Here’s another NM artifact that was brought to my attention by Scott Meyers. He himself produced his own artifact, the Soi Disont/Sterolab split 7”. Helping him with Soi Disont was Sam Miller who could’ve been the “fifth” Shins at one time. Impressive for a ‘burque band that never played publicly or ever will. Rio Grande Gold is on the flipside but related ‘cause Scott’s mom (vox) and stepfather (vox/guitar) were in the band. Now on first sight the cover immediately grabbed me. All black with all lettering in gold. What’s really interestin’ is that the title is “#1” but with a zia symbol in place of the “#”. I thought that alone was brilliant (I’m a New Mexi-nerd what can I say?). And a black & white group photo with heavy shadow and gold border around it.  The group consists of five white cowboys and one brown cowgirl. There’s Kay Baca (Scott’s mom), Rocky, John, Jim, Stacy (Scott’s step-pa) and Lewie (who looks like a downhome version of Lemmie from Motorhead). All the guys are pretty rugged-lookin’ while Baca is quite cute. They got the leather, sheepskin, dark clothes and dark hats goin’. Rhinestone they ain’t; cocaine’s more like it. Scott told me they were one of the highest paid bands in town at the time. He went to shows then and mostly sat behind the bar and drank soda (to hell with baby-sitters). So I don’t know much about country music but neither do most country stations. If this was available I don’t know how most people would react to it. My guess would be its either too old or not old enough. And that’s just the people into country, not the millions that hate it and would associate it with Hee Haw or Deliverance. I don’t care; I hope they were on Hee Haw (note: I saw Deliverance on acid and thought it was a Vietnam movie. When I figured out it wasn’t, I freaked and turned it off). Scott sez this is the only recording made before Baca & Stacy split to be in the Duke City All-Stars (?). As for the record, even though these guys dress like outlaws I think they were a bunch of softies ‘cause most of the songs are nice 2-steppin’ numbers. Supposedly Stacy wrote a bulk of the music when he & Baca were together and love does weird things to guys. So this record may not fully represent the rest of the band. But there are some rock-out numbers. Baca can belt them out just as good any coal miner’s daughter and do ‘em in Spanish too! Lots of duets with her husband on song like Supermarket Love and beautiful steel guitar all over the place. It’s a pretty genuine and honest-sounding record all around (that is, if you don’t have jaundiced ears) even if it’s a 70s record. No seems to know exactly how 70s it is (drugs?) and except for weird synthetic hand claps or rare rock-out song, its anybody’s guess. Outhouse beats? Switched-On Bach in the backwoods? Like I said before, buy it for at least the cover or buy it for me and send it to Captain America.
Wig Wam Bam (by Captain America PO BX 4865 Albq NM 87196 captainamerica1941@hotmail.com) rubs you the wrong way monthly and may be found at AstroZombies, Insomnia, Launchpad, mecca Records & Books, Natural Sound and all Family Dollar stores (“Nothing says ‘ghetto’ like Family Dollar!” ®)
Wig Wam Bam is written by Captain America  | po box 4865 | albuquerque, nm 87196