quête:trash mob

The extroverted blend of attitude, energy, and ostentatiousness that spills from the New York Dolls’ self-titled debut can be seen in full view on the album cover. Depicting the quintet in its hallmark flash-and-trash apparel and in drag appearance, the 1973 album scared away a considerable amount of potential listeners while capturing the attention of a sizable audience that recognized the band for what it was: zeitgeist pioneers who helped develop the punk and glam rock movements.

Named by Rolling Stone the 301st Greatest Album of All Time and by Mojo the 49th greatest album of all time, New York Dolls receives long-overdue audiophile treatment on Mobile Fidelity’s numbered-edition 180g 45RPM 2LP set. Sourced from the original master tapes, pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing in California, and housed in a Stoughton gatefold jacket, this collectible version marks the first time the group’s career-making statement is available to be experienced in audiophile quality.

Far from harboring the crude elements that became associated with the punk scene, New York Dolls benefits from keen production overseen by none other than Todd Rundgren. Though more accustomed to working far higher-caliber musicians, Rundgren — taken by the New York Dolls’ charisma and cool, if not their instrumental approach — fully understood the ensemble’s aesthetic. He captured what went down at New York City’s Record Plant with an astute blend of live-on-the-floor feel, raw authenticity, and professional acumen.

On Mobile Fidelity’s definitive-sounding reissue, you can hear those facets as well as key details, dynamics, and textures with previously unimaginable insight. Rundgren preserved generous degrees of grit, grime, and grease while bestowing the raucous music with elevated levels of separation, solidity, and impact every landmark recording deserves. His vision extends to introducing choice accents — barroom piano notes, Moog synthesizer passages, Buddy Bowser’s honking saxophones — that add to the songs’ appeal without interfering with the primary architecture.

Afforded extra groove space on this pressing, the tenor, presentation, and attack of both vocalist David Johansen and now-iconic guitarists Johnny Thunders and Sylvain Sylvain come across with stunning vibrancy and vitality. The New York Dolls often seem headed off the rails and into the red, but somehow, the strut, swagger, and sloppiness — and the associated sleaze and scruff, scrape and snarl, frenzy and feverishness those characteristics entail — remain together as a whole that shakes its collective fist at the frustrations, isolation, disarray, and disillusionment of youth chaos and urban decay.

Kicking off its debut with “Personality Crisis,” cited by Rolling Stone as one of the 500 Greatest Songs of All Time, the band makes obvious its grasp of alienation, deviance, displacement, and suburban disaffection — as well as its capacity to play hanging-by-a-thread boogie, noisy rock ‘n’ roll, and Brill Building-inspired pop. The lipstick-kissed New York Dolls possesses traits many of its harsher predecessors would overlook: joyfulness and melody, topped with a knack for knowing how and where to take a song inside of three-and-a-half minutes.

Dive and dash with the belligerent “Looking for a Kiss”; stomp your feet and clap your hands to the big choruses of “Jet Boy”; surrender to the demands and provocations of the coded “Vietnamese Baby”; decide whether “Bad Girl” yearns to explode or implode. It’s one of several tunes here that allude to the world coming to end. Of course, that doesn’t mean there isn’t time for a fling before everything burns. “There’s no place I gotta go,” yowls Johansen. And he means it.

Adorned with tonal crunch, glitter, and gristle, New York Dolls takes pride in its brashness and brattiness. The rambunctious effort, which earned the band the distinction of being voted both “Best New Group of the Year” and “Worst New Group of the Year” in the pages of Creem, displays knowing reverence for the blues without calling attention to the style. The folk-laden “Lonely Planet Boy” is nothing if not a collision of heart-on-the-sleeve emotions and the desire in the face of challenges to maintain a tough-skinned exterior. An interpretation of Bo Diddley’s “Pills,” complete with shivering harmonica and clattering rhythms, announces there’s no cure for what infects this band. It’s that contagious. And how.

His deliveries gushing with campy fun, playful irreverence, and sheer decadence, Johansen doubles as the equivalent of an open fire hydrant that spouts at will. He’s at once tender and vicious, serious and tongue-in-cheek. On arguably his finest hour on the album, Johansen’s phrasing, passion, and lyrical ambiguity alone turn “Trash” into an insistent glam-rock gem whose echoing harmonies and girl-group references stamp it a pop classic.

Too much, too soon? Only for those averse to some of the finest rock ‘n’ roll ever put on tape.

Jon Spencer teams up with Kendall Wind and Macky Spider Bowman - the rhythm section from Woodstock NY punk rock wunderkind The Bobby Lees - to chew bubblegum and kick ass. Two years after “Spencer Gets It Lit” (Marc Riley’s BBC6 Music Album of the Year, “hugely entertaining” MOJO, “a sonic witchdoctor who’ll blow your mind” UNCUT) there is still more work to be done saving rock'n'roll music. “Sick of Being Sick!” will be released on limited clear 45rpm Super-Stereo cut LP. Jon Spencer has been innovative force in the independent music scene since the mid-80s. An acclaimed live performer, he has toured all the continents except Antarctica and has amassed a dizzying discography as the leader of Pussy Galore, The Jon Spencer Blues Explosion, Heavy Trash, and Jon Spencer & the HITmakers, as well as with Boss Hog, The Honeymoon Killers, The Gibson Brothers, and Taxi Girls. His collaborations include (but are not limited to) working with Steve Albini, Add N To X, Nicole Atkins, Beastie Boys, Beck, Bomb The Bass, R.L. Burnside, James Chance, Coldcut, Chuck D, Dan The Automator, Jim Dickinson, DJ Shadow, Einsturzende Neubauten, Guitar Wolf, GZA, David Holmes, Japanese Popstars, Dr. John, Calvin Johnson, Steve Jordan, Khan, Moby, Money Mark, The Muffs, The North Mississippi All Stars, Princess Superstar, Puffy AmiYumi, The Sadies, Nancy Sinatra, Solex, Solomon Burke, Speedball Baby, Rufus Thomas, UNKLE, Unloved, Andre Williams, and Bernie Worrell. His production credits include: Cheater Slicks, Demolition Doll Rods, Experimental Tropic Blues Band, Perrosky, Mike Edison, Jesper Munk, Sunshine & The Rain, The Bobby Lees, and Samantha Fish & Jesse Dayton.

The trashed hotel room and communal living depicted on the cover of the J. Geils Band's sophomore album tell you all you need know about the music, spirit, and energy spilling from within The Morning After. Shot through with raw, lean rock n' roll sparked by juke-joint blues and loose rhythms, the 1971 set comes on like the most fun, party-still-raging hangover any group in the 70s enjoyed. And now it rolls with an abandon that takes you inside the sweaty, smoky roadhouses and wall-to-wall-packed clubs the group dominated in its heyday.

Mastered from the original master tapes, pressed at RTI, and limited to 3,000 numbered copies, Mobile Fidelity's 180g vinyl LP achieves a sonic acumen that brings you face-to-face with the sextet's white-hot instrumental prowess and magnetic personalities. It's always been difficult to single out just one member of the band given the cohesive bluster the ensemble achieves as a whole, but this collectible audiophile edition allows you to do just that if you so choose, by way of superb imaging and separation. As for the band's trademark dynamics? Here, they feel like they're on the verge of exploding.

So go ahead. Twist the volume knob to the right as much as you want. You'll lose none of the focus, detail, placement, or presence no matter how high the decibels climb. The Morning After spills forth with previously unheard tonalities, ranging from the distinctive swells of Seth Justman's slow-burn organ to the live-wire spark of Geils' own downed-power-line-jumpy guitar work to the mooring hi-hat/cymbal/snare combinations of arrangement-steadying drummer Steven Bladd. Friends, this is raw rhythm n' blues, this is how it should feel, and, man, this is how it should sound.

Not for nothing did the Massachusetts-based collective name the album The Morning After. The music within doesn't abide by rules, ignores speed limits, flips the bird at curfews, and digs deep down into America's blues roots to yield organic material at once fresh, exciting, traditional, and original. The back-porch punch provided by the combination of "Magic Dick" Salwitz's searing, melodic, snake-like harmonica and vocalist Peter Wolf's animated, barely controlled deliveries is alone enough to make anyone with a faint pulse to stomp their feet, climb atop a kitchen table, and kick their boot heels until the neighbors call the cops.

Just witness the deceptive smoothness of the snake-like "So Sharp" or Maxwell Street zest of the aptly titled Magic Dick showcase "Whammer Jammer," which will leave you gasping for breath before it even ends. J. Geils Band also knew its way around deep-cut soul. The ensemble's Top 40, howling, adrenaline-to-the-heart rendition of the Valentinos' "Looking for a Love" and swirling, romantic take on Don Covay's "The Usual Place" seamlessly balance drive and emotion. Coupled with rafter-shaking originals such as "Floyd's Hotel" and the riff-propelled "I Don't Need You No More," sent up with typical Wolf vocal flair, and the record parks the band's all-night festivities and go-for-broke attitudes right on your front lawn.

One last word of warning to the uninitiated: The Morning After is not the slick-pop J. Geils Band of "Centerfold." And that is a very good thing.

The third release from Fred Laird was recorded during the period June 2020 and January 2021 on 24trk home studio recording. It is also the first album recorded purely as a solo artist with the occasional guest and draws more from a roots style music (trad it isn’t) than previous more psychedelic releases.
‘Inspiration for the album came from listening to the self-recorded primal music of Hasil Adkins and the first solo Link Wray album for Polydor. The idea of these guys just doing what they wanted back of beyond seemed more akin to me sat in a box room during lockdown feeding off a diet of Billy Chong Kung Fu horror flicks, David Lynch, Noir crime movies, Jean Cocteau and the works of Yukio Mishima.
Musically the sound draws from early Bad Seeds or Crime and the City Solution, Gallon Drunk, Bohren and Der Club of Gore, The Cramps, Hasil Adkins and various other trash inspired twilight creatures. I also wanted to try and create that spooky organ sound that dominates the midnight movie classic ‘Carnival Of Souls’, so there’s quite a lot of organ and piano going on. I also got my hands on a baritone guitar to give the songs more of a deep growly twang!
Vocals are provided by Daisy Atkinson for the Jean Cocteau dedication ‘Orphee’ which is the nearest thing to a pop song on the album and the echoey almost Sister Lover’s sound of the title track. I got sick of my own shit voice and I just thought a female voice would give it a more fragile ethereal vibe.
Mike Blatchford provides formidable saxophone to the album’s last three tracks which were recorded on his mobile phone 300 miles away and synched into the music. The big blasted swing blues of ‘The Big Duvall’ is a dedication to Andy Duvall of Carlton Melton – a big guy who needed a big song. Who knows how big the song could have been in a proper studio. I could have dedicated it to John Wayne but Wayne couldn’t chop down trees with his bare hands like Andy can….’