Random Record Reviews: Volume 9

It’s a Satanic drug thing, Part 1: 

Monster Magnet: 25…Tab 

Glitterhouse Records, 1991 

My copy: Napalm Records, 2017 

I wasn’t into Monster Magnet in the early to mid ‘90s, and I don’t recall knowing anyone who was into them, either. By the time Monster Magnet got big in the late ‘90s, I had already moved away from “modern music,” so long story short – I was never a Monster Magnet fan. Until now! Within the past few months I have belatedly discovered this New Jersey band, formed in the late ‘80s by a group of psych explorers who seemed to have walked out of the early ‘70s. In particular, I am only interested in the earliest era of Monster Magnet, which is to say the first few releases (specifically: one album and two Eps), which featured John McBain on guitar. 

This, 25…Tab, is one of those Eps, with the caveat that the EP is actually longer than most LPs! The track “Tab” alone is over 30 minutes long, putting the limits of analog technology to the test; happily, this 2017 repress on 180 gram vinyl sounds great, save for the fact that it’s pressed a little quietly. The ideal LP side length is around 20 minutes; any more “data” on the side and something has to suffer in quality, usually either the bass level or the volume level. While the bass is nice and loud on the repress, you really have to crank the sucker up – but then, your only other option on vinyl is the original German release from 1993, and I doubt that sounds any better. 

I’m getting ahead of myself. This EP is great! It sounds so much like Hawkwind at times that you could be fooled into thinking it had been released 20 years earlier. This is what really appeals to me about Monster Magnet; they did heavy psych rock with vintage equipment. I don’t know much about what Monster Magnet did after, but their self-titled 1990 EP (inexplicably only released in Germany…and to this day not reissued in the US!), this Tab EP, and finally their debut album Spine Of God, are all pretty damn great. 

Not “heavy metal” per se, Monster Magnet is more heavy rock in the vein of the early 1970s, with lots of space rock and psych touches. It’s pretty awesome, and these guys were in for the whole trip – the subtitle of this Random Record Review, “It’s a Satanic Drug Thing,” comes from the back cover of Spine Of God: “It’s a Satanic drug thing…you wouldn’t understand.” 

The entirety of Side 1 is taken up with “Tab,” a 30-minute headtrip of sonic effects and various rants from “lead singer” Dave Wyndoff, all of it anchored by the mantra-like bass of John McBain (who does not play his customary electric guitar on this track). I’ve played this song a lot and you really can get lost in it; I once saw it compared to the freak-out psych section in the middle of Led Zeppelin’s “Whole Lotta Love,” just taken to an epic length, and that’s actually pretty accurate. Just imagine that going on for about 30 minutes. 

Side 2 gets into more “standard” song forms, starting off with the other title track, “25,” which is more Hawkwind than Hawkwind: 

This one features McBain on guitar and boy does it rip – probably one of my favorite Monster Magnet songs. This track cuts hard into the following number, “Longhair,” which is an instrumental with a strutting, freak-flag-flying sort of vibe, and then the EP ends – or at least the original release ended – with “Longhair,” a mellow track with overdubbed McBain guitar that is the closest thing to a “normal” song on the EP. This 2017 vinyl reissue tags on a live take of “Spine of God,” presumably from 1990 – the track isn’t even mentioned on the LP jacket – and it’s so bootleg you can hear the people in the audience talking about it, one of them even saying, “Sorry, I didn’t realize you were recording!” 

Overall, a great “EP” that is really more so an LP, and the cover art must also be mentioned – an appropriation of a vintage science illustration, with Monster Magnet’s mascot the Bulldog added to it. The print job of the LP sleeve is great; the colors really pop, and also they made it a gatefold, but the inside is just a blurry photo of Monster Magnet on stage. Check it out, just be sure to crank up the volume. 

Acid Reich: Mistress Of The Perpetual Harvest 

Cool Beans, 1989 (original cassette release) 

My copy: Mental Experience/Galactic Archives, 2021 

Speaking of Monster Magnet…man, I like this obscure release a lot more than I probably should. And also I consider myself fortunate to have a copy; per the label, this will never be reissued. So what we have here is a late ‘80s recording by the proto-Monster Magnet – Dave Wyndorf, John McBain, and Tim Cronin – augmented with two additional musicians from the underground New Jersey scene. According to an insigtful interview printed on a flyer that is placed inside the sleeve – an inverview conduced by psych musician The Plastic Crimewave – this material was recorded during downtime in a home studio in between working at local record and comic book stores. 

I find myself fascinated by this late ‘80s New Jersey scene that Monster Magnet was part of; it’s just super cool to think of these longhaired dudes in their 20s coming home from a day selling comics and then breaking out their vintage guitars and Orange amps and hitting record on the 4-track…playing music that was entirely out of fashion in the late ‘80s. 

The origin of Acid Reich is it was just another “band” these guys would record as, usually releasing stuff on cassette tape on a “label” run by Cronin. Plastic Crimewave got hold of the original tape and it was used as the source for this vinyl LP release…which sounds a lot better than you’d expect, but be aware this is certainly lo-fi: the drums are a pounding tribal din and the guitars are more scrappy than heavy. But man it is heavy acid rock of the highest order, sounding more like an underground heavy rock bootleg from 1971 than anything from 1989, and of course I mean that as a compliment. 

They also don’t short-change you on material: the LP runs around 40 minutes, the perfect LP length, but there are only 5 songs on it! Side 1 features the awesome “Black Sun,” which features echo-treated Tim Cronin endlessly shouting “Black sun…in my head!” like a madman over a lo-fi metal jam, and then unexpectedly we have an epic-length cover of Pink Floyd’s “Set The Controls For The Heart Of The Sun,” always one of my favorite Floyd songs. But man, Waters and company even at their most “far-out 1969 Alan’s Psychedelic Breakfast” never got this far out; it starts off somewhat similar to the Floyd original before heading into the outer reaches of heavy lo-fi psych metal. 

Side 2 is more of the same – there’s an Acid Reich “Theme,” which is along the lines of “Black Sun,” and a heavy instrumental psych-metal-fest called “Revenge of Tim Boo Ba,” before things close out with a sarcastic take on “Amazing Grace,” which seems to feature Wyndorf on vocals. Oh and I should mention, as with “Tab,” John McBain plays bass throughout the entirety of Mistress Of The Perpetual Harvest (a local rocker named Shaune Kelley plays guitar on the LP), which is a shame, as McBain’s guitar tone was phenomenal – I mean, just check out “Nod Scene” from Spine Of God. 

As mentioned, I contacted Guerssen, the parent label of Mental Experience, to see if they were going to repress this LP, and they responded that they were not going to. So, I went on a hunt, determined to get my own phsyical copy for an affordable price. I was lucky enough to, but given how obscure the album is, you might have to resort to the digital release on the Acid Reich Bandcamp page. 

Spiral Shades: Hypnosis Sessions 

RidingEasy Records, 2014 

A little over twenty years ago I became a hardcore Black Sabbath fan, Ozzy-era only of course, mostly due to the awesome reviews by The Seth Man on Unsung. I bought the Black Sabbath CD box set when it came out in 2004, and still have it, and over the years I’ve gotten a few of their albums on vinyl, but prices have always been too high. And besides, the music is what matters, and Ozzy-era Sabbath is still some of my favorite music. 

But while the first four albums are generally the most loved by fans, I’ve always been a fan of Sabotage, Sabbath’s 1975 LP that saw them retaining their sound while bringing in progressive elements…not to mention a lot of sonic trickery. I mean “Megalomania” is by far my favorite Black Sabbath song, a 9-minute track that starts off dreamy before going off the deep end into sonic FX-ridden riff heaven (or hell), not to mention some serious cowbell action. Why this track is not better known than “War Pigs” is a mystery for the ages, but whatever – 1975 Sabbath was the best. 

Instead of continnuing in this pace, Sabbath unfortunately delivered Technical Ecstasy the following year, a muddled album that retained the progressive rock vibe but ruined everything with a generic “rock” approach. (And yes, that review I linked to is one I wrote for Unsung over twenty years ago!) But man, this 2014 album, produced by two guys – who weren’t even together in the same country when they recorded the album! – is the true followup to Sabotage that Black Sabbath never gave us. 

With a guy named Filip Petersen, in Norway, handling all the guitars, and a guy named Kuhshal Bhadra, in India(!), handling the vocals and drums, Spiral Shades is a studio group if ever there was one…and that’s fine with me. I’ve never been a fan of live albums. I like to hear the studio technology taken to its limits, and like Monster Magnet, Spiral Shades has done the same thing – taken a vintage metal sound to its limits. This album truly sounds like it could have been recorded and released in 1975, and again that is a compliment. 

And I haven’t even mentioned Bhadra’s vocals. There is a whole scene that’s developed in the past several years of Sabbath-worshipping “doom” metallers who have their own ersatz Ozzie on vocals…but folks, Kuhshal Bhadra is more Ozzy than Ozzy. This dude has Osbourne’s sound and delivery down pat, and there are tracks here you could play to someone who isn’t even really gullible and fool them into thinking it’s actually a Black Sabbath song. It’s truly incredible. 

And not only that, but the songs themselves have the Sabbath sound, while not coming off like ripoffs or repeats of what Sabbath did; Hypnosis Sessions really does sound like a true followup to Sabotage, the riff centering all the songs in true Iommi fashion, with the band sometimes going for slow-build epics and other times going for head-banging riffathons. So far as the latter go, my favorite track on the album would be one of those short head-bangers, “Wizardry,” which features some cool fx on the guitar:

Coming in at nearly an hour, Hypnosis Sessions was released as a double album, meaning it’s the opposite scenario as with Monster Magnet’s 25…Tab vinyl release. Since each side comes in at around 12 to 14 minutes, there are no issues with lack of bass or volume. The album sounds great, and vinyl would be the ideal medium to play it in, but it does bum me that RidingEasy got cheap and didn’t release it as a gatefold. This means that both LPs are jammed into a standard jacket, thus ensuring that some day the seams will split. 

Spiral Shades took nearly ten years to record a followup, the digital-only Revival; I’ve only listened to it once, but it is very much along the lines of Hypnosis Sessions, and it’s a damn mystery why RidingEasy didn’t keep them on the roster and release this one on vinyl as well. 

Saltpig: Saltpig 

Heavy Psych Sounds, 2024 

My favorite release on this list, Saltpig came out via the wonderfully-named Heavy Psych Sounds, a Rome-based label that focuses on, you’ll be shocked to know, heavy psych rock, metal, doom metal, and etc. There are a ton of artists on this label and I highly recommend you check them out. Also they do quality vinyl releases, and it was in this fashion that I discovered Saltpig’s debut LP…which turned out to be my best music discovery of 2025, and certainly the best “new release” I’ve heard in perhaps decades. 

I’m always buying music and listening to music, but it’s all old stuff, if you know what I mean. I realized a few months ago that there had to be new music out there that was worth listening to, and further I realized it was we hardcore rock junkies who were doing a disservice to these new groups – we’re so busy buying “Very Good Plus” copies of old records on Discogs that we are oblivious to new music that might be just as good. 

And Saltpig is certainly a case in point. These guys are awesome, coming off like an unholy mix of Black Sabbath and The Stooges...maybe after the two had sat through a triple-feature of horror movies at the local drive-in. Like Spiral Shades, we have here a two-man group: Mitch Davis on vocals, guitars, and production, and Fabio Alessandrini on drums. Man, these guys are phenomenal: this album is so great that I’ve played it constantly since I got it. Usually I play records only a few times and then move on to the next new thing, but I’ve played Saltpig over and over. In fact I’m playing it again right now! 

On the label page I linked to above, Saltpig’s music is described as a direction early 1970s proto-metal might have gone if it had not evolved “towards greater precision, bigger drums and more robust production.” I read this after listening to the album a few times, and I have to say, this description really sums up their sound. One can easily imagine that this would be the direction heavy music went in the early ‘70s. There is a sort of lo-fi murk to Saltpig, yet at the same time the production is phenominal, with a lot of buried effects; it’s a headphone album as well as a “blast on your stereo” album. 

Side 1 is comprised of 5 tracks, each in the 3-5 minute span, centered around a Sabbath approach but offering a lot of variety. Oh and I forgot to mention, but a key to Saltpig’s success is Mitch Davis’s vocals; his is not an Ozzy wail, or a death metal grunt…his vocals are top-notch. The dude actually sings, which is what brings me back to the Stooges comparison…I mean, Iggy Pop/Stooge had one of the greatest rock voices ever, and Davis seems to have taken his inspiration from that area instead of a more traditional “doom metal” approach. 

That said, Davis’s vocals are usually buried beneath FX and other trickery; as mentioned there is a very cool murk to Saltpig, lending to its “occult” vibe. But this is a drive-in monsterama kind of occult (ie the best kind), with side 1’s subjects ranging from demons to burning witches. Starting off with “Satan’s War,” Saltpig hits the ground running, and the way the 5 songs blend into one another, side 1 almost comes off like a continnuous piece. “Satan’s War” promptly displays their penchant for buried effects, with lots of sound effects buried beneath the music – even after listening to the album so many times, I still am surprised by the errant noises when listening on my headphones. “Demon” and “Burning Water” are aggressive, riffing numbers, and “When You Were Dead,” with its grungier, more lo-fi metal-punk vibe, is a harbinger of Side 2. “Burn The Witch” opens with a horror movie sample and almost sounds like ‘80s goth metal in the chorus. 

Flip it over to side 2 and it’s another story entirely...one single track, “1950” (the title is actually the length of the track!), a mind-blower of blown-out amps and screamed, fx-ridden vocals, where Saltpig just rides a riff into infinity. It sounds like James Williamson-era Stooges looking into the future and doing a shorter, slightly faster take on Sleep’s “Dopesmoker.” Speaking (again) of the Stooges, if you are a fan of that band, then you’ve gone down the murky roads of bootlegs and unofficial releases, and it’s incredible how Saltpig has exactly replicated that sound with “1950;” it sounds like some track lifted off Heavy Liquid or Rough Power or one of the innumerable other Stooges boots. 

For nearly twenty minutes we have this RIFF, which rolls upon itself over and over, before slowing down a bit for (what passes for) the chorus, and throughout it all Mitch Davis’s voice is lost in the sonic din. Man, it’s incredible! “1950” is my favorite new song in years and years and years. The track is so great that Saltpig even made a music video for it!

I was so blown away by Saltpig that I actually contacted the band throught their website, telling them how much I enjoyed the album. I was nearly as blown away when I received a response…in which they told me that they are putting “the finishing touches” on their followup album! Folks, I can’t tell you how amped up I am to hear another Saltpig album. I mean, think of it. This is the first time I’ve been excited to hear a new album since…when? Maybe not since the ‘90s! 

Highly, highly recommended – I got the basic black vinyl pressing, but Heavy Psych Sounds offers various pressings at various prices, plus digital as well, so take your pick – just so long as you check it out. And while the vinyl is likely pressed from digital, which is how it is done these days, I suspect the album itself was recorded in analog, as it has that vintage sound, which adds to the vibe. Just a perfect album, and one I will continue to listen to again and again.

Bloodsong: Season Of The Dead - Halloween '25 

Digital release, 2025 

Rounding out this review with a special mention of a new single release from Bloodsong, who I have raved about before – first about their Initium Meets Earth A.D. release, and their later Season Of The Dead. The other day I got an email notice that Bloodsong had just put up a new song on Bandcamp, and I went over there immediately to check it out. 

Coming in at 2 tracks, Season Of The Dead – Halloween ‘25 features remakes of earlier songs, and what’s notable is that this one-man band has now become a two-man band. (Two-man bands could almost be a theme of this post!) Main man I, Misanthrope has been joined by the awesomely-named “Dr. Anthony Fulci” on lead guitar, and the good doctor shreds it up on new mixes of “Season Of The Dead” and “I Want Your Blood.” 

While both of these songs were great in their previous mixes, it must be said that Dr. Fulci brings something new to the table, in particular “I Want Your Blood,” which is here transformed into the greatest song Bloodsong has yet done. Like I said before, if you’ve worn out your Misfits and Samhain records, you need to look into Bloodsong; absolutely no band comes as close to capturing that mid-‘80s Samhain sound, while still offering something new and uniquely their own. 

I think the only thing missing is a physical release of Bloodsong’s material…I’d love to have some of this stuff on vinyl. Hopefully I, Misanthrope and Dr. Anthony Fulci will continue to join forces and bring us a full album of heavy horror punk, but in the meantime this two-track single is perfect Halloween listening, so head over to Bandcamp and check it out!

Random Record Review: Bloodsong - “Season Of The Dead”

 

Two years ago I posted a review of “Initium Meets Earth AD” by Bloodsong, an album that so perfectly replicated The Misfits and Samhain that I could only hope that one day I, Misanthrope – the sole force behind Bloodsong – would do an entire album of original material. 

Well, fiends, that day has come – and ironically enough it’s around the same time of year as when I discovered Initium Meets Earth AD. Namely, right around my son’s birthday. Just as I recall going back home after an exhausting day of hosting my kid’s sixth birthday party and relaxing to the soothing strains of Bloodsong’s awesome Initium-styled rendition of Earth AD’s “Death Comes Ripping,” so too did I find myself mentally humming along to Bloodsong’s “Life Is Fucking Cold” this year while hanging out with my kid at the Crayola playground on his eigth birthday. 

Once again Bloodsong captures the mood, style, and vibe of mid-‘80s Glenn Danzig, to the point where this stuff would’ve blown my mind if it had come out on cassette tape circa 1989. And speaking of which, what this – and all of Bloodsong’s material – needs is a cassette release! In one of those “you’d never in a million years believe this would happen” scenarios, cassette tapes are back in these days, especially with younger people. As a coworker of mine quipped, “Have these people ever heard a cassette?” 

Also in true Danzig fashion, the album is short! Season Of The Dead is essentially an EP, comprised of eight tracks, each of which are just a little over three minutes long. And tracks 5-8 are remixes of tracks 1-4! 

“Cold World” starts the proceedings, with its memorable chorus of “It’s a cold fucking world.” This one sounds so much like Initium that you could swear it’s an outtake. Opening with heavy chords and those “Taco Bell commercial” synth-gongs, this track is crazy in how it so perfectly captures the Samhain sound. This is the one I was humming to myself while my kid created his own crayon at the Crayola factory – nothing like bopping your head to “It’s a cold fucking world” while kids are happily running around a crayon playground. Of course I was wearing earphones at the time. 

Title track “Season Of The Dead” follows; it starts off with more of a dirgey nature, before going into a metallic onslaught. Complete with those Taco Bell gongs, which I love to death, as well as unearthly growls buried in the mix. Lyrically this track is very in-line with mid-’80s Danzig, concerning witches and “malicious spirits.” I especially appreciate the multi-tracked “Yeahs” that puncuate the end of the track; very goth-punk.  This one received its own single release this past October, albeit in slightly different form (as noted below). 

“Psychofuck” is the mosh track; faster than the previous two songs and all scraped metal chords and pounding tribal drums. Ironically it’s this track where I feel I, Misanthrope most replicates the sound of Danzig’s voice, muted and buried in the mix during the verse but belting out wails in the chorus. There’s a cool part midway through where the track comes to a stop…and then starts back up again. I could really see the 15 year-old me banging my head to this one in 1989. 

Last is the mega-awesome “I Want Your Blood (2025),” another piledriver of heavy, punk-metal guitar riffing, with speed metal drums straight off of Earth AD (but better produced, as befitting Samhain!). A minute in we get into a cool bit of Danzig-esque experimentalism, with the tribal drums panning back and forth across the stereo spectrum and a chorus of I, Misanthropes intoning “I just want…your blood.” Super cool and so perfectly done. This section comes back at the end of the song, where it’s more prolonged and even cooler; I also love how the track ends, with a lone guitar offset by more of those unearthly growls.  This version is an update of the first-ever Bloodsong release, the I Want Your Blood single from 2018.

“Side 2” commences with a “Dark Cloud Mix” of “Cold World,” which runs a few seconds longer than the original mix. It’s a more experimental take than the original, opening with FX’d growls, and more focus on those awesome Taco Bell synth-gongs than the guitars. I, Misanthrope’s voice is more buried in the dense mix, again giving it the sound of a cassette. This mix would probably have given my kid nightmares if I’d been playing this on speakers instead of headphones; the focus is more on hellish din, with the growls often overtaking the music entirely. Yet at the same time it really sounds like something Danzig might’ve put on Unholy Passion. 

The Dark Clouds Mix of “Season Of The Dead” follows the same path – the howls and growls are panned up and the music is murky and buried beneath them. There’s also a headfucky chorus with a demonic voice whispering overtop I, Misanthrope’s voice. In some ways this one’s almost a dub mix; about the most we hear from the instruments is the kick drum and scraped guitar strings, with the focus on demonic sound effects. 

Seventh track “Psychofuck” also becomes a demonic nightmare in its Dark Clouds Mix; I, Misanthrope’s voice is amped up but at the same time sounds far away, like he’s up on stage at an outdoor festival in hell and we’re all the way back in the cheap seats, getting poked by demons with pitchforks. Once again the instruments are all meshed together into a blurry sonic wail, with screams and wails taking precedence over the music. The “mosh” nature of the original is somewhat lost, yet at the same time the track is so crazy sounding that you can’t help but laugh like a madman. This is truly music to lose your mind to. In a good way, of course! 

Final track “I Want Your Blood (2025)” follows the same path as its three predecessors in its Dark Clouds Mix, though this time the guitar is brought up a little. Otherwise the main add to this mix is a lot of murk and demonic growling, but really it doesn’t sound drastically different from the original mix. There’s just more hellish FX added to it, so like the previous Dark Clouds mixes it’s basically a more experimental, more “evil” take on the original mix. 

That’s it for the Season Of The Dead album, but over the past few months Bloodsong has put out a few other digital releases; I’ve just been too lazy to write about them until now! 

On Halloween of this past year, Bloodsong released the single Season Of The Dead, topically titled “Halloween ’24 Mix.” Per the notes, this is a demo mix of the eventual EP mix, but is not lacking any of its power. If anything this early version just sounds a little more barebones, almost like a live run-through of the track (impressive, given that Bloodsong’s a one-man band!). 

In September of 2024, Bloodsong’s first release of original music came out – titled Glub, it was comprised of two versions of the title track. First was the “Mannyfield Version,” dedicated to Manny Martinez, the recently-passed first drummer for the Misfits, followed by the Original Version of the song. 

“Glub” is inspired by the very first Misfits releases, “Cough/Cool” and “She,” particularly the former track. “Cough/Cool” was a smoky, jazzy number that had nothing much in common with later Misfits material, and Bloodsong stays very true to that vibe here. Like its inspiration source, “Glub” is a piano-driven lounge sort of tune; the Mannyfied Version lives up to its namesake with a lot of snare fills throughout the tune. 

The “Original Version” is quite similar. The snare fills are brought down a little, with the kickdrum getting more focus. Otherwise there isn’t much difference between the two versions that I could detect. Of the two, though, I’d say this one sounds the most like a lost number from the original Misfits sessions. Kudos to Bloodsong for trying to replicate the sound of this early, mostly-forgotten incarnation of the Misfits, though. 

In closing, Season Of The Dead comes off as highly recommended for anyone out there who likes the Misfits and/or Samhain (I only ever knew one guy who liked Samhain better than the Misfits, by the way – a guy I knew in college back in the ‘90s who not-so-coincidentally was also a total nutcase). Bloodsong hits the ball out of the park in his recreation of mid-‘80s Glenn Danzig music, and I had a blast listening to these songs. 

But what we really need is a physical release, like ideally on a neon orange cassette tape, similar to how Danzig’s own Black Laden Crown was recently released!

Mad Peck Studios: A Twenty-Year Retrospective

Mad Peck Studios, by The Mad Peck

No month stated, 1987  Dolphin/Doubleday Books

You’d never guess from that eye-catching cover, but Mad Peck Studios is actually (sort of) a record review book. In fact that’s how I discovered this obscure and scarce trade paperback in the first place: searching the web for contemporary record review guides, because I’m always doing stupid stuff like that. I saw an image result of this cover and, of course, immediately looked into the book. I mean that cover is so appealing to the male gaze that, when I pulled up to the library drive-through window to get the copy of the book that had been sent to me via Interlibrary Loan, the librarian at the window – a young girl who was very cordial to me when I told her I had an ILL hold to pick up – stormed back from the holds shelf and angrily thrust the book out the window to me. No doubt she was offended by the wanton cleavage on the cover. 

The busty babe is The Masked Marvel, a repurposed superheroine who was previously known as “The Black Cat” in a Harvey comics series in the ‘40s and ‘50s. In the early ‘70s Providence-based artist The Mad Peck, in true underground comix style, appropriated The Black Cat, making her costume a little more revealing and and also giving her hair more of a “long and straight” ‘70s style than the shorter cut she sported in the Harvey comics. He also turned her into a record critic…indeed, the dream girl of pretty much any horny male rock listener who ever drew a breath. 

The Masked Marvel was just one of the Mad Peck’s characters: there was also Dr. Oldie, a rock historian based on the Mad Peck’s own radio character, Frogman Jack (an actual frog), and I.C. Lotz, a PR gal turned record reviewer. These characters appeared in short comic strips in underground and rock magazines through the ‘70s and ‘80s, most notably Creem and, later in the ‘80s, Spin. Mad Peck Studios offers a sort of “greatest hits” of these comics, selected by the Mad Peck himself. 

Given the short space the Mad Peck had to work with, the art is usually busy and, once he had his record review schtick developed, the artwork is often overclouded by dense dialog text. In a way this book documents how the Mad Peck even got to the record review setup in the first place; the first quarter of the book is devoted to the art the Mad Peck did for various catalogs he would market in underground magazines; the Masked Marvel does not appear in these, and indeed her introduction is almost an afterthought, particularly given that she will become the character most associated with the Mad Peck. When she does appear, in four or six-panel stories, it’s often the character I.C. Lotz who handles the brunt of the narrative. 

In these early ‘70s appearances, published in an underground mag called Fusion, I.C. Lotz and Masked Marvel get involved in various topical events, like for example a serialized story where they foil a hippie terrorist airplane hijacking. This too is very much in an underground magazine vibe; the hippie terrorist is swindled by I.C. Lotz’s promise that she has some cocaine for him, and then The Masked Marvel pulls up her shirt to further confound him. These serialized stories are different than the later record review comics, but maintain the same oddball humor and topical references. 

By the late ‘70s the Mad Peck has figured out the kind of comic he wants to do, and these record review comics take up the majority of the text. What the Mad Peck does is similar to what J.R. Young did earlier in the decade: a piece of fiction in place of a typical record review. But unlike J.R. Young, whose stories were at times hardly even connected to the album itself, the Mad Peck instead has his fictional characters discussing the merits of the album (or lack thereof). What the Mad Peck really specializes in doing is cramming mentions of obscure or overlooked albums within these reviews; as I say, some of the comics are particularly dense on the text front. 

I found that these comics were best appreciated in small doses, which likely betrays their origin; it’s not like the Mad Peck had an entire comic to establish a plot, characterization, or etc. When you’re talking one comic strip a month it’s a different story. But I really liked the weird, insular world he created here with these recurring characters, and wished for a more comprehensive peek into it. Also, the idea of a masked crimefighter turned record critic is just so bonkers that it has to be appreciated, though I couldn’t help but notice that the Mad Peck seemed to lose interest in Masked Marvel as the ‘80s comics progressed, focusing more and more on Dr. Oldie. 

The Mad Peck sprinkles the text with captions and narrative explaining the origins behind this or that strip, or spelling out some of the more obscure references. Since the book ends in the mid ‘80s, with the Mad Peck’s characters losing their latest home – in this case, Spin – I’m uncertain what happened to these characters afterward. But as a fun look at the “anything goes” vibe of the era, Mad Peck Studios was a lot of fun…though I’m glad I just got it via Interlibrary Loan instead of shelling out the exorbitant dough copies now go for. 

Here are some random samples:

Hawkwind: Days Of The Underground

Hawkwind: Days Of The Underground, by Joe Banks

No month stated, 2020  Strange Attractor Press

I try to refrain from making sweeping statements, but it seems to me that Hawkwind didn’t make much of an impact here in America. I mean, I’m 49 and have spent pretty much my entire life listening to rock music from the ‘60s and ‘70s, and even I only heard of Hawkwind probably around 1999 or so, in an off-hand mention in a review of Primal Scream’s album XTRMNTR (and there’s another group that didn’t make much of an impact in America – at least, no one I knew at the time had ever heard of them). 

Even then, it wasn’t until I discovered the Hawkwind reviews by The Seth Man (my favorite music reviewer ever, btw) at Julian Cope’s Unsung site, some years later, that I even bothered looking into the group. Seth Man focuses on Hawkwind’s early ‘70s output, and later I’d learn that this era is for the most part considered the Hawkwind, even though the band continued on (even to today), with multiple lineup changes. But about the only member I knew in the band was bassist Lemmy, who of course would go on to form Motorhead; indeed, if anyone in the US is aware of Hawkwind, it’s probably due to Lemmy’s connection with the band in the early ‘70s. 

But even that isn’t very well known; I know a guy at work who is big into the music scene, as is his wife, and he mentioned the other week that his wife had just read Lemmy’s autobiography (!!!. Now that my friends is a woman you marry!!). “So she probably knows who Hawkwind is,” I said. The guy gave me a blank look and was like, “Who?” He wasn’t even familiar with the term “space rock.” Presumably his wife would indeed know who Hawkwind is, given that she’s the one who read the book – and now that I’ve read this book, concerning Hawkwind’s rocky ride through the 1970s, I think one day I too might check out Lemmy’s autobio. He proves himself the most colorful character in a group solely comprised of colorful characters. 

Over the years I’ve heard all the Hawkwind albums from the classic era, but have failed to become interested in any of the post-Lemmy albums (which is to say, 1976 onwards). But still even then I didn’t know anything about the group, or the revolving lineups, or who anyone was. Wait, I also knew of Stacia, the statuesque, 6’ 2” beauty with the staggering bust who danced in the nude at Hawkwind concerts during the Lemmy era. Recently I got on another Hawkind kick and decided to finally learn a little more about the group. Joe Banks’s Hawkwind: Days Of The Underground served as the perfect overview of Hawkind, and by focsing solely on 1970 to 1980 Banks here gives us the glory days of the band over the book’s 400+ pages. 

Banks handles his subject in an interesting way: this isn’t a bland study of the group, but one that is broken up into different formats. There’s “Chronology,” which offers persent-tense detail on what Hawkwind is up to throughout the decade, and “Album,” in which Banks reviews each record released during the decade – and Banks proves himself a great reviewer in that he actually describes the music, a failing of many so-called “music reviewers.” In fact his style reminds me a bit of Seth Man’s. Then there are “Interviews,” in which Banks throws some questions at a few (surviving) Hawkwind members. Finally there is the periodic “Essay,” in which Banks will focus on a subject for a few pages, like how Hawkwind related to the political climate of Britain at the time, or Hawkwind’s relationship with the sci-fi New Wave (collaborator Michael Moorcock being another of those interviewed here). 

One thing I quickly learned was that Hawkwind honcho Dave Brock (vocals and guitar) doesn’t seem to have much time for these things: he’s not one of the people interviewed here, and all his comments in the book are taken from contemporary interviews. Brock also failed to appear in a BBC documentary that was produced several years ago (which Banks links to on his informative and comprehensive website for the book), due to his falling out with another founding member: Nik Turner (sax, flute, vocals). Banks doesn’t get into the details of this falling out in his book, but then again Hawkwind: Days Of The Underground ends in 1980. At any rate Turner died in 2022, so his falling out with Brock was permanent. It just seems strange that Brock does not appear in any of these band retrospectives, given that he started Hawkwind and is still running it. 

Regardless of Brock’s lack of involvement, Joe Banks carries the narrative along smoothly, as mentioned relying on contemporary articles and interviews. One thing I learned from this book was that Hawkwind were heroes of the British underground, often performing at free concerts and operating out of the Portobello Road area, where they presented themselves as one of the people. So I guess sort of like The Jefferson Airplane, at least insofar as their political/radical inclinations went, but Hawkwind certainly never became as wealthy or successful as the Airplane did. In fact you wonder how these guys even made a living: eventually their shows were known for elaborate light shows (not just the naked dancing girl), and they used all sorts of audio generators and other electronic gizmos that were outsie the realm of your typical rock group. This entailed a large touring company, which of course had to be paid for. 

Compounding the issue was that none of the members wanted to get on the “star trip,” and indeed most of them would shun the spotlight, content to let the slideshows and light shows and Stacia take the brunt of the audience’s attention at concerts. No doubt this is another reason Lemmy is probably the only member of Hawkwind an American fan might know off-hand, as Lemmy certainly had the star trip down pat, becoming a legend in his post-Hawkwind days. Otherwise even I, who had listened to the albums and collected some of them on vinyl over the years, couldn’t name a single other member of Hawkwind until I read this book. They were an eccentric group of characters to be sure, but we aren’t talking a John-Paul-George-Ringo group of different and memorable personalities. 

But then, Hawkwind’s music outweighs any personalities – it’s a heavy, spacey kind of rock that’s heavy on the effects and the overall trance-inducing vibe. The only problem I have with it is that I’ll hear a Hawkwind song and think, “This is great!” Then the next song will come on, and I’m like, “Didn’t I just hear this song?” What I’m trying to say is, variety is not key with Hawkwind, at least for the classic era of the early to mid ‘70s. To this day I still confuse “Born To Go” with “Brainstorm,” or etc – and not just them! Entire LP sides almost blend into one long track, but as Joe Banks successfully argues here, that’s the entire point! Hawkwind’s music was designed to take the listener into another realm (even without drugs), inducing a trance through repetition of its heavy psychedelic rock vibe. 

Another thing that sets Hawkwind apart from groups of the era was that Hawkwind was indeed psychedelic – and not “progressive,” as they are often categorized. As Banks also notes, in this regard Hawkwind had more in common with the krautrock bands out of Germany, in that they continued with the heavy psychedelic rock of the ‘60s but brought it into the ‘70s with all the production tricks of that decade. But they had little in common with true prog groups like ELP or Yes, and more in common with such German acts as Amon Duul II (which also had a revolving lineup, including a bassist who played in both ADII and Hawkwind in the early ‘70s). 

It's in the description of this music that Banks’s narrative style really shines. As mentioned, he describes the music, treading the line between insightful commentary and the colorful word painting David Henderson employed in Jimi Hendrix: Voodoo Child Of The Aquarian Age. In fact it had me going back to the albums to listen to them again, though I have to admit that, despite his enthusiasm, Banks did not succeed in making me appreciate the post-Lemmy era of Hawkwind. I found myself skimming a lot of this material, as I’ve never been interested in the group’s attempts at capturing the punk or New Wave scenes, nor do I like the streamlined act in which Bob Calvert became their main singer. I mean, I like the dude as the crazed circus ringmaster who links tracks on Nektar’s Down To Earth, but not as the main singer in a New Wave-styled Hawkwind. 

Speaking of which, Banks makes much of Hawkwind’s impact on the emerging punk scene, which is another line of divergence for American readers. Punk just never had that impact here…despite Johnny Rotten’s infamous T-shirt, Americans today are a helluva lot more likely to listen to Pink Floyd than the Sex Pistols. In England though it seems that “punk” is still held in high regard, for giving a new boost of energy to the dying rock scene or whatever. Hawkwind, while never punk, is often cited as an influence on the scene, to the extent that even Johnny Rotten said there never would’ve been a Sex Pistols without Hawkwind. To which I say, “Who cares?” 

Joe Banks relates Hawkwind’s trip through the ‘70s in an amiable tone that is never too critical or apologetic. His enthusiasm for the band is clear, but also he can’t help but relate some of their poor choices – like, of course, canning Lemmy and Stacia. Also Dave Brock’s increasing control of the group is cast in a questioning light, especially given that everything was going fine previous to his changes in the lineup. Also the group had a rather strange habit of abandoning band members on tour – Banks relates in the later ‘70s portion of the book how Robert Calvert was abandoned during some tour, and caught Brock et al as they were leaving in a taxi, Calvert chasing after them while brandishing a sword. This is the closest the book gets to Spinal Tap territory, by the way. But also, in that BBC documentary I linked to above, there’s a part where Lemmy relates that he too was abandoned while the group was on tour in the US, just assuming he had wandered off somewhere to get some speed and taking off without him. 

What I find curious about this is that there’s also a scene where a Hawkwind member (“Liquid Len”) is ditched by the other members of the group in the 1976 novel Time Of The Hawklords, by Michael Moorcock and Michael Butterworth (though as Banks notes in the book it was entirely written by Butterworth); I’ll have a review of that one up once I’m finally able to finish it, as to tell the truth the novel’s a bit of a slog. The tidbit of a Hawkwind member being ditched by the others is entirely too coincidental and makes me suspect Butterworth was spoofing how Lemmy was ditched in the US, though it doesn’t happen to Lemmy’s character in the novel. 

Speaking of Lemmy and his amphetimines, Hawkwind was of course synonymous with drugs, and Banks treats this topic with candor – there is no apology or regret or any other stuff. About the only issue is that Lemmy was a speed and heroin user, and this didn’t jibe with the preferred drugs of the others. Hawkwind was a pot and acid band, which itself was notable for the ‘70s. This could be why their mid-‘70s output does not sound sterile and lifeless, like so many other groups of that era. The same, again, holds drue for the krautrock bands of the day. Another thing I learned from Banks is that British critics of the day also saw this similarity with contemporary German bands (krautrock was also never a “thing” in the US), but today hardly anyone mentions Hawkwind in the same breath as Can or the like. 

Joe Banks’s Hawkwind: Days Of The Underground goes a long way in fixing this; the story told here is memorable and entertaining, and makes one wish for a time machine – what it must have been like to see the group’s “Space Ritual” production in person. (And I share Banks’s incredulity that none of these shows were ever filmed for posterity!) Banks also does a good job of defining the various lineups and how they differed from one another, while still maintaining a “Hawkwind” vibe. Overall I definitely enjoyed the book, with the caveat that my interest waned as the ‘70s progressed (but then that’s pretty much true about everything ‘70s for me), and it had me listening to my Hawkwind albums with a renewed appreciation. I also appreciated the thoroughness Banks brought to the book, down to detailing every promo film made of the group in the ‘70s, as well as notable outtakes that were not released in the day – and speaking of which, the 2018 Record Store Day double-vinyl compilation release Dark Matter: The Alternative Liberty/U.A. Years 1970 – 1974 is highly recommended, collecting as it does some of the very outtakes Banks mentions in this book.

Random Record Reviews: Volume 8

Why Isn’t Dennis Linde A Household Name? 

As mentioned in a previous Random Record Review, I recently became aware of singer-songwriter Dennis Linde via the Elektra-Asylum Fall 1974 Releases compilation LP, which featured the title track from Linde’s album Trapped In The Suburbs. This song really caught my attention, and I immediately sought a copy of the album it was sourced from…and liked it so much that I got Linde’s other two solo albums soon after. Actually there were really three other Linde albums, but his first one, Linde Manor (Intrepid Records, 1970), is grossly overpriced on the records marketplace, no doubt because DJ Shadow sampled something off of it for his trendsetting 1996 LP Entroducing. 

Well anyway, Dennis Linde was a Nashville-based songwriter whose biggest claim to fame was that he wrote the song “Burning Love,” which of course Elvis Presley had a huge hit with. Linde wrote and produced very prolifically on the Nashville scene, so he’s often regarded as a country musician. But make no mistake, the three solo LPs reviewed here are very much in the rock camp. Indeed, Trapped In The Suburbs most reminds me of Gene Clarke’s No Other, from the same year and on the same label, but Linde’s record is leaner and less mired in country tonk. It’s also a helluva lot better than No Other, which makes it very strange that it hasn’t been discovered by the hipsters of today. 

I consulted my Rolling Stone Cover To Cover CD-ROM and saw that all three of these albums received favorable reviews at the time they were released, so there was at least a little contemporary acclaim for Linde’s work. But it would appear that none of the releases made a ripple. That’s the thing about being a record collector. You come across so many albums that were worthy of great success but went unnoticed, and you wonder why. Then you remember that all the stuff that plays monotonously on classic rock radio today was new then, and just being discovered, so that’s what people were listening to instead of Dennis Linde! 

Dennis Linde: Dennis Linde 

Elektra Records, 1973 

This one is my least favorite of the three here, but I only mean that when speaking comparatively. Otherwise Dennis Linde is a great album, if a little more on the country-esque singer-songwriter tip than the following two records. That said, it hits the ground running with what I consider Linde’s best-ever song, and a track that should have been blasting from transistor radios across this great land of ours in 1973: “Hello, I Am Your Heart:” 

How this incredible track didn’t become a hit is a mystery. One thing I haven’t mentioned is that Dennis Linde was similar to Todd Rundgren, Paul McCartney, and some others in that he not only wrote the songs but sang them, played all the instruments on them, and produced them. “Hello, I Am Your Heart” is a masterpiece in multi-tracking, and I love how that anthemic chorus just keeps building on itself with the fuzz bass and thundering drums. I mean when a guy produces something like this and it’s ignored you wonder why he didn’t just throw in the goddamn towel. 

This is not to say Dennis Linde is a one-good-song record. While most of the songs do play on Linde’s Nashville connection, with a country tinge (or instrumental blues, as is the case with “East St. Louis Nights”), there are some notable exceptions. Like the experimental “Dr-31,” comprised of textured synthscapes with a rock beat and telling the sci-fi tale of the building of a starship; the song is a prefigure of the funkier sci-fi outings on Linde’s later Under The Eye. 

And of course I have to mention that Dennis Linde’s most famous song is also here, though it’s arguable how many people even know it’s a Dennis Linde song; like me, they probably just assumed Elvis wrote it. But yes, this is “Burning Love,” which is another one where Linde builds on his own vocals and instrumentation, giving the track more of a groove than Elvis’s version: 

The contemporary Rolling Stone reviewer capped off his review with something to the effect that this album would be unjustly overlooked (obviously I’m too lazy to boot up my old PC – which is the only thing I can play that CD-ROM on – and see what exactly the reviewer stated, let alone who the reviewer was!). Of course history has proven him correct. While I wouldn’t rank this as my favorite Dennis Linde album, I still definitely recommend it – I have the original US pressing, which sounds great and comes with a little biographical insert on Linde, where it’s mentioned how busy he was while self-producing the album, including even becoming a father. I thought this was a cool note, as the child, apparently a daughter, is mentioned in a song off the following album. Also because I was born the year after this album was released, so it’s cool to think Dennis Linde’s kid is around my age – hopefully she appreciates her dad’s work! 

You should buy the record (if you have a turntable, that is; there’s no CD), but here’s the full album on Youtube. This upload at least sounds better than the uploads above, but as ever these Youtube uploads aren’t at all reflective of the true depth of the original vinyl’s sound: 

Dennis Linde: Trapped In The Suburbs 

Elektra, 1974 

All I can say is, this has already become one of my favorite albums of all time…and I just discovered it a few months ago! How Trapped In The Suburbs still hasn’t been discovered by the rock hipsters is yet another mystery. It’s basically the perfect rock album, Linde again writing all the songs, playing all the instruments, and producing himself. Have I mentioned yet he also uses a mellotron? There’s a mellotron present on this and the other two albums here, but these records are so obscure that they aren’t even mentioned on the otherwise-comprehensive Planet Mellotron site. 

While there’s nothing here that sounds as “immediate hit!” as “Hello, I Am Your Heart,” the thing about Trapped In The Suburbs is that it’s more of an album album, if you get my drift, not so much a collection of songs. It’s also a great headphone album; Linde wasn’t just talented in the music department but in the production department as well. There’s a progressive element at play here, with the country singer-songwriter vibe of the previous album only on a few selected tracks…and even then it’s done in a more progressive fashion. 

My favorite song is “He Likes To Hurt You,” which features a high-drama, almost histrionic chorus that will get stuck in your head. The progressive touch is definitely present on this one, as it is on the similar “Just To Think” on Side 2. In fact there’s almost an ELO touch to the latter, but with more grit than Jeff Lynne’s polish. “Hell Or High Water” could have been the single off the album, another progressive number in which Linde’s voice duels with itself from the right and left channels – as I say, the album is perfect for headphones. Good old rock and roll is also present, in particular in the heavy groover “My Guitar,” the aforementioned track where Linde mentions his child – whom he ignores because he’s too busy “playin’ my damn guitar.” This one’s also got some great production touches; I love how the drums kick in once the song is underway. 

The title track also could’ve been a single, and indeed is how I discovered the album, given that an edited version of it was present on the Elektra-Asylum Fall 1974 Releases promo compilation. This one does have a bit of a Gene Clarke vibe, at least in how it merges country with a progressive funk edge; it’s cool but certainly not my favorite track here. But then I think every track is great, save for the sole misfire “Burn Away My Blues,” which is a lame (to me at least) blues number that closes out side 1. The country-esque tracks are even good, like “Country Steel Man,” a mournful number about musicians on the radio becoming your heroes, and augmented by a very David Gilmour-esque steel guitar (similar to what the actual Gilmour at the time was doing on steel guitar). 

This is another instance where you should just get the record for sure; I have the US pressing, and it sounds great. This release didn’t come with an insert, though, and it would prove to be Linde’s last with this label – indicating, of course, that his records weren’t selling. But like with Dennis Linde, the entire album has been uploaded to Youtube: 

Dennis Linde: Under The Eye 

Monument Records, 1978 

Dennis Linde’s last album sees him heading into a cosmic funk territory, but with a definite rock backbone. The country stuff is almost entirely absent. This is surprising, because this label was known for country, being based out of Nashville (at least partly, I think). Regardless, this is a sci-fi trip, sporting one helluva great cover – even the inner sleeve is cool, with a very “modern” looking silhouette shot of Linde sporting big headphones. I mean it could almost be an ad for Beats, or whatever those overpriced headphones of today are called. Album cover and inner photo all do a great job of summing up the headphone, sci-fi funk vibe of Under The Eye, which by the way is the rarest of the three LPs discussed here, though still not absurdly priced on the used records marketplace. My copy cost me ten bucks. 

Also unlike the other two albums discussed here, Under The Eye has not been uploaded in full to Youtube. So if you want to hear the full monty, you’ll need to get the vinyl, at least for now. Rolling Stone wasn’t as enthusiastic about this one, but the reviewer did acknowledge that Dennis Linde had been on a science fiction trip from the beginning, noting not only the track “Dr-103” on his self-titled album, but also the sci-fi liner notes on that release. That said, Rolling Stone was never shy about disliking anything experimental or envelope-pushing, so it’s not surprising they weren’t as fond of this one. 

Some of Under The Eye almost sounds like Daft Punk a few decades early. Nowhere is this more evident than on the album’s standout track – which happens to be the only song on a Dennis Linde album that was not written by Dennis Linde. This would be “Ghost Riders In The Sky,” here named “Ghost Riders.” Good grief does this thing sound like it’s from a few decades later or what? 

Once again Linde plays all the instruments and self-produces. You can hear he’s now added some vintage analog synths to his setup, giving the entire album an almost post-modern vibe. He hasn’t forgotten basic rock, though, as heard in “The Good Ship Rock And Roll,” a song which sounds like it could’ve been released in the ‘80s in how it bridges electronics and anthemic rock: 

Actually the track sounds to me like something that could’ve been on the soundtrack for Transformers: The Movie, ie the 1986 animated feature (with Orson Welles!!). But for the most part Linde sticks to a groove for the entire album; “Strange Groove” is the title of another such song. He does still indulge in a little country; “Funky Hoe-Down” is a country funk piece that reels back on the cosmic vibe. Speaking of which, the title track is another funk number that’s all about UFOs, a sort of novely number that still is a great song in its own right, similar to the same year’s “Flying Saucers,” by obscure British band Yellow Dog (which was fronted by American singer-songwriter Kenny Young, of Last Stage For Silver World). 

But this was it for Dennis Linde, at least so far as his solo releases went. Three albums released over a span of five years, all of them worthy of a greater audience. But they definitely went under the radar; according to Discogs, Under The Eye was only released in the US, whereas Dennis Linde and Trapped In The Suburbs had at least also been released in the UK. But clearly they made even less of an impression there than here. Linde went back into songwriting and producing, and passed away in 2006. 

So in closing, I heartily recommend these three records. I discovered Dennis Linde through a fluke – I literally picked up that Elektra-Asylum compilation because I wanted to hear the single edit of Gene Clarke’s “No Other” – but I would now rank him as one of my favorite music artists ever.

Random Record Reviews: Volume 7

CAP-FM: What’s In-Store For You 

In previous posts I’ve mentioned how much I enjoy what was known as “progressive freeform” FM rock radio, the history of which was recounted in WNEW-FM DJ Richard Neer’s FM: The Rise And Fall Of Rock Radio. I’ve also mentioned Javed Jefri’s wonderful Let The Universe Answer, in which you can hear airchecks of the actual freeform era. 

I started wondering if any records of the day followed the FM format of seguing tracks with a DJ patter between the songs…and somehow stumbled upon that very thing! This is CAP-FM, aka the FM radio station that never was. The brainchild of Capitol Records’s national manager for Album Oriented Rock, Ray Tusken, the CAP-FM: What’s In-Store For You promo-only records followed the format of an FM broadcast of the day, the idea being that stores would play the records over the stereo system and interested shoppers might scan the bins for the albums the DJ talked about. Also a nice play on words in the title – “what’s in store for you” referring not only to new music out from Capitol, but also literally referring to the albums shoppers could find in the store. 

A pretty brilliant idea, I think, but I’m guessing the CAP-FM: What’s In-Store For You albums were too expensive to make, or provided too little ROI, thus there were only four of them…all released over a period of 2 years. There also seems to have been some behind-the-scenes wrangling, as Ray Tusken is not listed as “executive producer” on the back of What’s In-Store For You #4. That volume also sees a female “announcer” (uncredited, same as the male one was on volumes 1-3), as well as more of a focus on guitar rock than the first three volumes, which could indicate more shake-uppery. 

I recently came across a contemporary feature on the first CAP-FM release, in an industry journal called Cash Box. There Ray Tusken was interviewed, where he stated that the album was specifically put together like a radio set, with the songs seguing into one another in a cohesive block, “like a good [radio] jock would do.” He also noted that something called a “limiter” had been applied to the album, meaning that it “sounded like a tuner,” not like a regular record. I can say that these records sound incredible and are some of the best-sounding records in my 2,000+ collection. Capitol clearly put some effort into the production, engineering, and mastering…which could be another indication why there were only 4 of them. 

First a note on the DJs, merely credited as “Announcer” on the back cover. (We know from the feature story mentioned above that the male announcer on #1-3 was someone named Mike Harrison, but I don’t know who the female Announcer on #4 was.) One main difference between these faux-FM broadcasts and real ones is that the CAP-FM announcer(s) have zero personality. The male Announcer on #1-3 and the female Announcer on #4 just indicate the songs about to be played, or that were just played, and might occasionally provide a few brief asides about the group. But there’s no attempt at “connecting” with the audience. Also worth noting is that there’s no hard selling on the records, no “You can find this album right here in the store!” sort of stuff. In fact they try to make it sound like a legitimate radio broadcast…the first What’s In-Store For You record even carries the conceit so far as to identify the faux-station as “WCAP-FM,” ie adding a “W” like real stations on the East Coast would have. Also worth noting that the Announcers do not say “Cap-FM;” the station call letters are spelled out, again like a real station: “C-A-P-FM.” 

There’s also no intro or outro on any of the records. The idea was likely for the store employees to just keep flipping the record over, so that customers coming in would have no idea they weren’t hearing a real FM radio broadcast. Each record in the series opens with the Announcer’s blank statement “This is CAP-FM,” then it goes straight into a song. Each side ends with the Announcer stating, “This is CAP-FM. We’ll be back.” Another thing to note is they didn’t go all the way with the “real radio station” conceit; there are no fake advertisements, a la The Who’s The Who Sell Out. 

Other than that old Cash Box feature, there’s not much info out there about the CAP-FM: What’s In-Store For You LP series. Also there were no uploads on Youtube prior to the ones I’ve listed below. On the plus side, the records are not pricey at all; the first one cost me the most, at six bucks. I picked up #2-4 for about $2 each, in VG+ condition! Anyway, on to looking at each release… 

CAP-FM: What’s In-Store For You #1 

Capitol Records, 1976 

The first CAP-FM is certainly the best. It’s also the one that might cost you the most, as only a thousand copies were pressed. But of all 4 records, this one most replicates an FM broadcast of the day, with some cool seques between tracks and some obscure artists being featured. The segues are also very well done, nowhere more notably than on side 2, in which the “space sounds” outro of Steve Miller Band’s “Fly Like An Eagle” seamlessly melds into the “space sounds” intro of obscure German prog outfit Triumvirat’s “I Believe:” 

Side 2 also demonstrates Ray Tusken’s note that the songs would form “blocks…like a good jock would do;” the theme on this side is centered around lost time and the travails of being a rocker. Obscure singer-songwriter Tom Snow’s “Rock And Roll Widow,” with its focus on a groupie who wonders if she’s wasted her life, is played before The Steve Miller Band’s “Fly Like An Eagle” (with it’s “time keeps on slipping” lyrics). That track segues into Triumvirat’s “I Believe,” a song that’s all about the frustrations of being a famous rockstar. (Surely the members of Triumvirat* indulging in some wishful thinking!!) So in other words, a complete “block” of songs that all follow the same general theme. Speaking of Tom Snow, he also appears on side 1, with “Hurry Boy,” featuring backing vocals by Stevie Nicks (thanks to the Announcer for letting us know…though of course her vocals are pretty distinctive anyway). 

Otherwise on #1 we have rockers Starz, Australia’s Little River Band (another thanks to the Announcer – I’d seen their name but had no idea they were Australians), and on another obscure tip we have HUB, a group comprised of former members of Rare Earth. Overall What’s In-Store For You #1 was my intro to the series and I played it a bunch when I got it, and likely this will be the one in the series I play the most in the future. 

CAP-FM: What’s In-Store For You #2 

Capitol Records, 1977 

Full disclosure: this is my least favorite in the series, to the extent that I didn’t even make a video recording of any of the songs on it. There’s none of the variety of #1 and the segues aren’t as well done. For that matter, “Fly Like An Eagle” appears again, for some reason, but whereas the spacey outro section was expertly used as a segue into the next song on the first LP, this time “Fly Like An Eagle” just ends cold and the next track, Cockney Rebel’s Beatles cover “Here Comes The Sun,” starts right up. Otherwise the aim this time appears to have been to play it safe: we have Sammy Hagar and Bob Seger on both sides, each time their tracks unimaginatively seguing into each other. The obscure artists as seen on the previous release have been replaced by better-known MOR types, though we do get prog rock again in the form of Gentle Giant’s “Just The Same.” But it’s a cut from their live album and isn’t very proggy at all. A group called Maze also takes us into an unwanted Soul detour at the end of the album (“Happy Feelin’s”); they will return for the final CAP-FM release. 

Also of note is that the Announcer, an uncredited Mike Harrison once again, has dropped the “W” from the name of his pseudo-station; it will remain just “CAP-FM” for the rest of the series. He also adds a little more color commentary between tracks, for example telling us that we should catch certain acts in concert where possible. But otherwise there is a bland, “safe” vibe to What’s In-Store For You #2, so I wouldn’t suggest this as the one to check out first if you want to listen to this series. 

CAP-FM: What’s In-Store For You #3 

Capitol Records, 1977 

Things improve with the third release. Mike Harrison is still our uncredited “Announcer,” and he shows more personality this time than on the previous records. Still nothing on the level of a real-life jock, though. I just mean he’ll have these periodic asides like “Good stuff” after a track is played…which actually comes off as so facile that it’s funny. But once again his main purpose is to introduce each track, tell us where the band’s from, and give us the name of the album. And luckily there’s more variety here, getting away from the Middle of the Road vibe of #2. 

Little River Band and Gentle Giant are back, but we also get Be-Bop Deluxe (“Shine,” from their live LP), the unsung Bob Welch (who had just started his solo career), and a Lou Reed-type called Mink DeVille. On the prog side we have none other than Klaatu, whose “Around The Universe In Eighty Days” segues so perfectly into Gentle Giant’s “I’m Turning Around” that you’d think it was all one long song: 

The thematic work behind the segues still isn’t as on-point as in #1, but this one’s a definite improvement over its predecessor. Oh and I forgot – no mention is made over the Klaatu flap of the year before, where everyone thought Klaatu was really the Beatles. What you hear in my Youtube upload above is all that is said about Klaatu…just a generic intro with a mention they’d done “a rather unique space opera” with the London Symphony Orchestra. The LP, by the way, is Hope, which I don’t like nearly as much as Klaatu’s first album. But still, there is a bit of a bland sound to What’s In-Store For You #3, with not as much variety as in the first record…which makes the following LP come as quite a shock.

CAP-FM: What’s In-Store For You #4 

Capitol Records, 1978 

We immediately notice two things about this fourth (and final) CAP-FM release: Executive Producer Ray Tusken is not listed on the back cover, as he was for the previous three records, and our uncredited Announcer is now…a woman!! No idea who she was, but I detect a slight Southern twang in her delivery, as heard in the upload below. Otherwise Ms. Announcer is much the same as her male counterpart, introducing each track without much personality. She interjects the same sort of tidbits on each act, leading me to believe that the same person handled the scripts for all four records in the series. 

As mentioned above, another big change with #4 is the sudden focus on guitar rock. This is by far the most head-nodding CAP-FM record, featuring such glammy hard rockers as The Sweet, Status Quo, Starz and Be-Bop Deluxe. The latter’s “Panic In The World” was new to me (I prefer my rock from earlier in the ‘70s), but by gum if it didn’t have me ready to pick up a copy of the album it came from. It segues into a non-album track by the obscure Tom Robinson Band (sorry, maybe not so obscure…the Announcer says they’re one of the hottest new acts in England!!): 

Damn that “Panic In The World” can get stuck in your head. Crazy how it sounds like something from a few years later – this track would’ve been huge if it had been released in 1982. Also you might notice that the song here is an edit, same as are most of the other songs featured in the series (something I neglected to mention). For example, The Sweet’s excellent, ELO-ish “Love Is Like Oxygen” is half the length of the album version, cutting out a groovy second half. Speaking of which, the second half of What’s In-Store For You #4 loses the guitar-rocking vibe of side 1 and slows way down with the 1-2 finale of Crane and Maze, two acts that go in more of a Soul direction…the Maze song in particular, “Golden Time Of Day,” seems like it’s never going to friggin’ end. 

But it finally does end, after which our Announcer says, “CAP-FM. We’ll be back,” and with that the stylus reaches the runoff groove and the record comes to a close – thus ending the CAP-FM: What’s In-Store For You series. These records are certainly recommended if you like ‘70s rock in general and ‘70s FM rock radio in particular, with the caveat that #2 isn’t too great and the “fake radio station” conceit only goes so far. But as stated the records sound phenomenal, with a wide stage presence that likely sounded great pounding out of the stereo systems in record stores of yore. 

*I discovered Triumvirat in 1996, when I bought a cassette of their 1975 album Spartacus from the clearance section of a Camelot Records store in Dallas. I’d never heard of the group but the album title caught my eye, given that I had been obsessed with historical epics as a kid. I would play this progressive, ELP-style album on the tape deck of my buddy Ken’s 1980s Saab as we’d drive around Dallas. Ken’s tape deck had this weird gimmick where, if you pressed two buttons at once (I think it was Eject and Power), the tape would instantly flip over and play the same spot on the other side. Somehow Ken managed to discover a possibly intentional fluke on the Spartacus tape. There was a song on Side 1 where the vocals went, “The sun is shining.” Ken discovered that if he hit that “auto flip” function at that moment, it would flip over to Side 2, where you’d hear the line, “Time to die,” with the vocals in the same key. In other words, “The sun is shining/Time to die,” which became a running joke in those carefree, unmarried days of my youth, where I had the time to waste on such trivialities. Speaking of which, next week I’ll be celebrating twenty-one years of wedded bliss, so it’s likely I will not have a post up.