2024 Reissue
"Hairway To Steven" was rleased for the first time in 1988. "Hairway to Steven" is a blast, ranging from the blood-smeared guitar-overload of "Jimi" to the acoustic guitar-based sing-along sweetness of "I Saw an X-Ray of a Girl Passing Gas" to the Fugs-like ranting of "John E. Smokes." Yet somehow, the album managed to get the straight media to actually notice. For all its strangeness, "Hairway" got rave notices in places that had never paid the band any attention previously. It was the Buttholes" last album of the "80s and marks the beginning of their ascendance into something akin to commercial success. Not that the band actually imagined anything at all like that occurring.
The follow-up to Snapped Ankles' 2018 RSD release, 'Violations' (which included new recordings of songs by Can, The Fugs, Joey Beltram and Comateens), 'Blurtations' sees the woodwose focus their eye on the work of a single artist.
Ted Milton's post-punk Dada-jazz stalwarts Blurt blazed a trail for acts like Snapped Ankles, and 'Blurtations' assembles covers of some of their finest works, including 'The Fish Needs A Bike'.
Packaged in a die-cut sleeve and pressed on yellow vinyl, 'Blurtations' also includes a postcard which riffs on the artwork of Blurt's self-titled debut studio album.
All six songs will be available exclusively on vinyl for RSD 2023. The EP builds on the success of 2021’s 'Forest Of Your Problems' album, which has seen Snapped Ankles grow their reputation as a formidable live force. Non-Returnable
Baby? are Erin Allen (Violence Creeps, High
Castle) and Max Nordile (Preening, Violence
Creeps, Uzi Rash).
This collaboration sprang from a singular epic
recording session. “Even though we hang 11 times
weekly, shouldn’t we remotely pile on overdubs ad
infinitum for havoc injection?” Did they really say
that? Did they really do all this on purpose?
For fans of Wild Man Fischer, Minutemen, Electric
Miles, Contortions, The Fugs, Preening.
Punked-up no-wave improv skronk to get you
going all night.
Includes poster insert.
Recorded by the band direct to 8-track tape in a basement behind a cemetery, these nine timeless teenage anthems and jukebox rippers tackle love (“Got Me High”), lust (“Tell Your Boyfriend”), and drugs (“Here He Come”) with a counterculture sneer and trickster’s wink. Fueled by Savage Sam's fiery guitar and Farfisa leads, vocal snarl, and arsenal of self-built custom analog effects pedals, the trio offers fresh and lucid hallucinations of various Seeds-y, Fugs’ed up strains of American underground rock and freakbeat rave-ups at the farthest edge of the British Invasion.
Crucially, the group laces each composition with more than enough personality to ensure that this joyful noise couldn't be coming from anybody else's garage. An upbeat singles band to the core, they save their lone improvised psychedelic jam for the end of midtempo closer "Watching" - a glimpse at the wild abandon of the trio's facemelting live shows. Savage Sam: guitar, organ, lead vocals, production
Michelle: drums, backing vocal Herb (Matt Lajoie) : bass guitar, backing vocals
Spoken word recordings from Gregory Corso, Tina May Hall, Sam Lipsyte, Christine Schutt, Gary Lutz, Allen Ginsberg, Dawn Raffel, Jason Schwartz, Kathryn Scanlan, Scott McClanahan, & Terry Southern. About 40 years ago, in a record shop on Long Island during a weekend visit there to see my parents, i found a double-LP that looked like something i should definitely buy. It was called "BIG EGO", by the The DIAL-a-POEM POETS. On the cover was a picture of John Giorno (a great poet Ed Sanders had turned me on to) on a NYC rooftop with Philip Glass, Meredith Monk, and two kids. It cost $2. I bought it and rushed back to my parents house, where i still had my old turntable in the basement, not far from my Jimi Hendrix and Zappa Crappa posters, and my framed portrait of John Cage. My copy of Eno's "Discreet Music" was still on the turntable, having been left there years before, when i'd fled Long Island for good. I lifted it from the platter, gently slid it back into its sleeve, like a priceless religious artifact, and put Side A of the Dial-a-Poem LP on. I almost lost my mind while listening to it. The next day i went back to the same record shop looking for more DIAL-A-POEM LP's. i found two. One had a long list of names on the back, some famous, and some i'd never heard of before. I bought both LP's, and an hour later, for the first time in my life, i was exposed to the art of Laurie Anderson, whom i'd never heard of before. This was 1978. Her contribution was a piece called "Time To Go". It changed my life. Or at least, that’s how I remember it. I was just a kid, so there were a lot of moments like that, around then. Nowadays, these moments can be had in seconds, with a click of the cursor. That evening, as i sat alone by my imaginary campfire (ie; that record player in my parents basement), i promised myself that someday, somehow, i would embark upon a WORDS & MUSIC project that might move people the same way i was moved when i first heard Laurie, and Robert Wilson & Christopher Knowles, and Burroughs, and Ginsberg, and Corso, and Anne Waldman, and John Ashbery, and the great Charles Olson, and so many others. Words, for the very first time, had wielded the same power as music. And it was visceral. Just like music. It ran deep. It was a FEELING. John Giorno died in 2019, but he kept poetry alive like nobody's business. I was lucky enough to have spent some time with him in the early 1980's, when i was briefly a member of The Fugs, and often found myself surrounded by those Ginsberg called, "...the greatest minds of my generation". Ed Sanders (who'd ushered me into that scene) once told me that when he came to NYC, it was easy to go to a cafe, or to St Marks Church, and hear Burroughs, Corso, Ginsberg, and all the greats, reading their poetry. He said that even if you were just a bum on the street, you could just walk right up to them, and start a conversation. They were totally accessible, if they were in the right mood at that particular moment. So i was shocked when Sanders told me he didn't approach any of them, not even once, til he'd been going to their readings for nearly ten years. "For almost a decade, I went to every reading, every lecture, every panel discussion. But I never went near them. Never approached them. Not even once", Sanders told me. "For ten years, all I did, was listen." It took me four decades, but ... better late than never. I finally made WORDS & MUSIC, Book One.
