...recorded by some hep thinkin' cat on 03/15/69 at th' boston tea party in front o' lous amp 'n as a result all th' squeal 'n scrunch is upfront givin' slightly th'illusion they're playin' instro versions with th'vocals so far down...a very nice amount o' choogle'n poundin th'whole way thru'n all layabouts should dig th'way heroin slips into sister ray for over halfhour endin' th'set...dig th' keyboard/guitar mangle at about two thirds through, real boss soundin'...tape hiss 'n bad editin' lets th'velvet head into th'murky world o' illicit list'nin...last three trx on disc two come from th'same venue(trx2&4 12/12/68, trk3 07/11/69) 'n give up some more velvetness which is as necessary'n usefull as a cleandout 'n fresh bong on long afternoons o' hooligan indulgence...
...massive pile up o' tapes documentin' th'work o' DAM back in th'early/mid 70's...back in th'days when stadium rock/countryrock/college prog/worn out glitter was s'posed to be what was happ'nin some cats took it on themselves to get a new thang goin'...all across th'planet pockets o' resistance were gettin' down with pure ol rockin'n rollin'...it didn't matter what sorta racket it was(krautrock riffin'/velvets drone/cheap electronics/ staight ahead blastin' th'decibels out)as long as it was from th' heart it was cool...over in th'motor city these cats were puttin' down everythin' that crawled into their noggins, a criss/cross o' cheepo culture all splurgin' out from every hole...rockedup free jazz/exploito flix/eerie comix/tape manipulation mix up'n splatter across th'cranium leavin' a residue so sticky it will stay around for as long as needed...th' blurred messy sound o' cheap booze'n bad drugs just keeps on comin'...layabouts diggin' th'avant slop from older times are gonna froth'n foam with abandoned excitement'n pure joy while this snazzed 3'n one half hours 'o hotcha aural surgery spins into infinity...uptight cats not diggin' th'freeform madness would probably just foam with outrage...fire up a doobee 'n sink into th'nightmare 'o unknown possibilties stacked with madness'n fun...
...when it came to th' trendy hypin' o' outsider art/street poets a few years back this cat missed th' Q 'n weren't invited into th'party...most o' those individuals that gotten written up by liberals 'n 'hip squares' were pretty lame 'n inoffensive, 'n in a word plain ordinary...if'n it falls to a roob to get creative with some natural artistic ability for out there vibes it should have a little somethin' to shake up a cat, not just be th' next consumer product for a coupla weeks...thats where this disk o' outpourins kinda differs coz this aint too cozy 'n lovey that squares 'n dullards can get next to...this is cathartic mind doodles that only come from those that have to give their thoughts to th' world whether th' world wants to know or not...whats on offer here is basically a pile up o' debris 'n trash from th' likes 'o back alley beatnix from fiftiesland who howled from dungeons o' despair/a desire to become th' reincarnation o' a drunk teenage jim morrison/postpunk word jive like rollins spouts...cats with any type o' serious misgivin's about freethought 'n vernacular wordage might wanna hit th' medicine box for a suitable somethin' to loosen up th'mind...
...quite th'reason why cleveland ohio was so stacked with underground swill-mongers like th'electric eels/pere ubu/rocket/dead boys/mirrors is open to many thesis wonderin's...th'list reads like a whos-who o' top trash'n that aint even includin' these stoner street level cats...they started life in th'garage as th'mad staggers which isa cool name for 1974 thats for sure...by th' time they'd devolved to th'pagans they were a full ON rockroll attack squad layin' down blitzkrieg noise for all interested parties...harkin their racket back to th'mid six-oh garage punkers'n layin some scummy metal guitar squeel/bass throb/pummel all over'n blastin' like th'dead boys'n other anglo influenced '77 riff killers they piled up a goodly amount o' tapes both studio'n live'n thats whats presented here...kickin' off with th'first single'n movin' thru monumental hot joints that stand loud'n proud next to any combo who rocked th'daze('n nights)...ends with a live set from summer '79 with guests jimmy zero/cheetah chrome helpin' lay waste to th'assembled punk heads...
...marvellous pile up o'chancers all puttin' th'rocknroll stomp on some hotcha glam riffs stolen from bowie/bolan/glitter plus lookin' back to some yanquee vox pumpin' from th'garages o'66...this biscuit is 100% thud pop from th'strange years in th'early seventies when proggy nit-wits tried to peddle worn out classical fairy tales as th'newest thing for th'kids, when limp wristed 'sensitive' bards serenaded young couples with bad poetry...thud pop that was immediately kickin' in givin' that all important rockin' rush thats so needed for survival in th'square world...theres a few names poppin' up here that would get a lift up with punk, jesse hector crops up in 3 different guises/knox from th'vibrators is shakin his thang/only one peter perret darts in from 73'n th'forward thinkin' hopefuls th'hollywood brats are sick on you...glam bein th'era o' th'record producer(what era isnt when big bizniz gets a handle)theres some powerful bouncin' noise goin on thats more addictive than crack'n better for th'soul, some good ol'rockinroll from start to finish(then start again)...other groovy names present're th'jook/jet with andy from johns children/flintlock who had a programme for kids on teevee back in th'day/milk'n cookies from NYC/'n somehow ducks deluxe get a look in plus many other long gone star satin looners, all o'whom knew how to kick out th'glam-jams when most had given up...th'title comes from talcy malcys agency that (mis)handled sex pistol exploits in th'mad jubilee year o'77 that all this secret teenage noise led up to...
...this wax must be consider'd as some kinda cultural barometre o'th'changin times in albion land, round'bout 71, as th'BBC decided it was time to capitalize on their saturday/sunday afternoon/early evenin' underground deejay coz there must be some loot in gettin cozy with arty cellar dwellers'n john was th'cat to supply th'means to 'n end...th'artists gettin th'exposure were underground enough in th'sense they didn't get in th'POP chart but they came from th'more cerebral end o' th'underground, there aint no freex scene maniacs like th'deviants/Laughin Sams Dice/sam gopal, no-sir-ee heres bridget st.john(dandelion recordin artiste o' this parish)/art(ol')school beatnik ron geesin/plus underground rock from th'provinces, kinda like th'real people on holyground(a once collectible label), that sorta 'lefty avant for th'people' sound, sweet marriage'n welfare state, both with different excitin' noise to offer th'discernin list'ner which is well dig-worthy...bridget does her wonderful upfront folk groove stuff'n ron weighs in with th'usual poetic electric doodles that hit th'spot...overall a top(gear) sound with introduction from john thats been treated by th'radiophonic workshop just to keep it all on th''clever trevor' grammar school vibe...any cats with even a passin' interest in th'underground will wanna flip to this...
...just about th'time dandelion bit th'dust through not makin' th'necessary scratch th'original version o' this wax was put out to an obviously disinterested public who could care less that heavy blooz slammers stackwaddy were nestlin' alongside whimsy like clifford t ward, or that madman kevin coyne was hangin' with his combo siren makin a healthy noise...th'fact that singular songstress bridget st.john was groovin' on th'same label as theatrical hippys principle edwards didn't make a jot o'difference to th'great unwashed...hard proggers tractor'n folkies mike hart'n beau were o'no interest either...sax blower lol coxhill'n strummers medicine head were just two others that th'record purchaser o' th'day ignored to th'point o'oblivion...for cats that do care theres 17 wonderful trx all ready to give pleasure to th'enlightened...
...any layabouts still rememberin' th'hep grooves o'acid rock/avant wirin' put out by these cats(cork marcheschi is th'main visionary here)will know that any biscuits by them will be worth checkin' 'n they wont be disappointed with this hep slab...bein' knocked out in th' mid 90s coulda led to disasterous beat driven/programmed laziness like so many older cats who come back 'n get mixed up in things that aint 'like it used to be in my day',put out gear thats no use to no one...this has got a total smearin' o' mid seven ohs kosmichemusik/hep euroavant goin' on strong 'n with this come a very nice joe byrd/u.s.a toppin' thats just squiggledee'n groooveee...an incredibly spaced out temporal unbalancin' comes on my-T fine as th' side moves on into stranger territory ...with all this flipcity distortion come a landscape that resembles nothin' less than a fiftees B movie full o' monsters both real 'n imaginary deep into alien black 'n white mystic graininess...more than once in amongst th' visions that appear before th' eyes a massive room shakin' power electronics blast issues forth 'n demands a chance to be heard ('n felt)...a coupla times, mostly on th' last trk th' ol' san francisco acid groove pops up(corks somehow also found th' link between 67acidrock 'n 76drugrock from cleveland such as pere ubu/mirrors/tin huey cos this plays as authentic time 'n place definer although neither are that in textural reality but is a perfect example in contextural reality...this is beamin' in from times/places/situations unknown 'n th' list'ner can only appreciate th' greatness o' this trip, th' importance o' this portal o' desirous escape to a land where smoked up bohemian layabouts sit 'n laugh at th' squaredadz goin' about doin' as they're told consumin' their own departure from a reality that is not o' their own makin',but is fast outpacin' th' ol' time tested idea/confidence trick o' hyper reality beloved o' desperate new wave sci-fi peddlers...a goodly waste o' 'an afternoons vibrations 'n indeed any time at all when th' adventurous move in secret circles o' insane belief...connection with th' void is assured 'n th' guarantees dont need to be written coz th' trip is on 'n goin...
...dangerhouse records from th'late seventies california landscape must be seen as th'perfect all encompassin' rockin' label with such hepsters as pogo hopefuls th'alleycats/drugged out party zombie black randy/commie punx th'dils/art damaged louts th'deadbeats'n others all puttin out top class 7inch wax in a matter o' a few months'n then th'whole shebang was over, th'label shut up shop'n proceeded to take its rightful place in rockroll history...from heavy hitters th'weirdos to long-haulers X, from hippee hangover howard werth to haight street punx th'avengers plus th'bags/rhino39/randoms'n th'eyes, every tune has something to recommend it, even today, over 30 years later most o' this sounds as fresh as it ever did with only a couple not quite hittin' th'mark tho this is subjective with only green-haze science to back it up...dig th'frisco'n LA scenes when they were just kickin' off(77/8) before th'cubes who invade any scene had written too many rules'n spoiled th'groove with square 'do's'n donts'...step back with these two marvo comps that serve th'combos well though when all said'n done a box set with everythang ever laid down at th'dangerhouse laboratories should be available right NOW...
...yoko came blazin' into th'seventies with a coupla long players o' primo trance catawaulin'n riff boogie(plastic ono/fly)'n this one bein' a double gives th'list'ner twice as much ono to really get a flipped lid with...cerebral blastin' screech yodelled over intense echo'd poundin' urban-swamp slop...lennon's guitar noise really propels yokos avant vocalizin' on th'17minute 'mind train' which most probably th'best moment in yokos rockin' years,'n shes surely put down some top class screamin' here'n there as evidenced with th'toronto live-peace bootleg...rockers like ringo/klaus voorman as well as lennon plus various delaney'n bonnie sidemen're on hand to get th'shows pulsebeat goin'n on a coupla trx th'avant stylin' o' joe jones tone deaf instruments bang'n clang'n whirl behind'n around yoko as she invokes visions from th'beyond...th'title trk, fly is yoko solo(with some backwards guitar from john) for over twenty minutes o' yodellin' acrobatics which was originally taped for a ono film o' a fly movin' over a body...a most excellent'n satisfyin' avant stew o' some immensity that even to this day,right in th'here'n NOW o' th'present moment,has th'power to seperate th'hep weird-beards from th'geeky pretenders(th'great unwashed always hated her'n always will)...
...th'fool hooked up with th'fabs through patti boyd gettin' asked where she got her flower power dresses'n she told th'interviewer about these colourful europeans who hit ol'london towne in a psychedelic swirl o' explodin colour...designin' clothes'n posters'n paintin' th'apple boutique lead their creativity into makin' an LP(like fellow designers hapshash)...produced by graham nash whose hollies were in th'throws o'diggin' th'new acid scene, its psychedelic folk fulla eastern tinklin'n tablas with sound fx groovin' around...a lotta english rock snobs dissed this at th'time, tho this was mainly jealousy that foreigners had got close to th'kings o'EMI, close enough in fact to score bread from them'n get a disk deal, its not th'psych masterpiece but it certainly gives a flavour o' late swingin' london'n when th'circumstances're right it still sends out th'good vibrations they obviously hoped it would...
...tripsichord music box were one o' th'later exponents o' th'frisco hippy music explosion'n got their one'n only long-player out in '69, at least 18 months after th'fuss'n media hype had faded from public gaze...its got some psychedelic ballroom feelin like KAK 'n'fruminous bandersnatch'n sometimes like late 60's moby grape with some o' that rural rock some hippy cats were mistakenly gettin' too involved with...some nice acid jammin' guitar runs'n semi trance grooves chooglin' along makin' for good list'nin'n it takes a coupla spins to work its magic, but th'magic is certainly there on more trx than not...this reissue comes complete with th'trx they got released on th''fifth annual pipe dream' comp that rolled out to general indifference in th'early seventies plus a single that also vanished without trace...somehow some o' this kinda sounds like a proto pavlovs dog but only after deep stimulation'n meditation so it could be illusionary or possibly allusionary...
...super nice drawin together o' th'4 reprise albums plus a disk o' unreleased gubbins in th'shape o' th'demos they did for atlantic recs'n th'first lp(tenderness...) in mono...these latter day fugnations're often overlooked in favour o' th'ESP-Disk work'n thats a fair state o' affairs cos th'first two LPs're some exquisite offerins o' underground beatnik folk slop o' th'highest order, but th'reprise goodies're great basement style rock poetry that stands tall in th'annals o' pop hedonism...like th'modal rounders whom they worked with sometimes their sound is a complete extension o' their enviroment'n social thinkin, heavily dosed with reefer'n amphetamine plus copius opiates...scads o'squelchy beat lyricism set against some twangin garage riffin'n R&B/jazzbo boppin, these cats hung out in th'dingy recesses o'mind altered karmic states...dig th'grooves as they bypass th'psychedelic teenage generation'n stay in th'back alleys o'urban slums on th'watch for vice agents'n finx ready to stop their message gettin to th'consumer populace...dig th'pentagon bein levitated'n exorcised o' th'evil that dwells within, dance in johnsons land'n wallow in th'squoosh'n smoke a little dope...hang out with th'slum goddess'n th'belle from avenue A'n know theres more grope needed...from th'peace eye bookshop to th'world, not bad for some ol'beats from th'rainsoaked sidewalks o' th'decayin land o'no hope...
...this is a well tasty little treat from those capt.trips cats outta japan with an exploito/tribute to th'mighty blue cheer...originally a heavy blooz sludge outfit o'epic proportions they gradually transformed themselves into a hollywood (goats head soup)stonesian glitter bar band via hippy rural capers, but its th'two extremes that are o' significance on this outin'...first three toons (dig th'TV hosts intros)come from th'first elpee'n mindblowin crunch it is, showin th'first cheer wax production wasn't a mistake cos thats th'sound these cats make give or take a blast o' bad attitude'n fx pedal, a freewheelin bad trip rocknroll combo just kickin th'summer o' love into th'dusty hills back to th'red dog saloon...this is th'teenage blue collar reefer/drinkin yanquee version o' th'cream at their most poundin trance onslaught, this is th'sound o'low rent hendrix in saturation orbit as they pummell every last grace o' history from th'very corpse o' rock,'n rock hadn't quite been codified in 68'n these cheer cats already bulldozin it off th'boogie highway...maybe if'n th'cheer didn't have th'personel problems/changes they'd kept th'intial promise cos they show here they got th'goods, they walk it like they talk it'n in 68 th' year o' th'barricades, when sides were bein drawn'n it was th'riot thang to do, san fransisco rock was driftin into th'country faster than was morally/culturally good'n when th'pigs got heavy manners'n government drugs flowin thru th'streets it was up to cats like th'cheer to keep th'faith with th'rockin' force field that keeps th'squares away...johnny come latelys once tried to talk up th'rural rock version o' th'cheer but th'arguement don't stand up after a coupla listens, sure they're nice'n all but th'very name blue cheer should make hippys run for cover not embrace them...onward from trk4 a very different cheer is happ'nin in gold star studios in 1974, layin down some glitter boogie rock with riff ideas/stance purloined from th'stones/NYdolls/foghat all with ace hustler kim fowley'n ex steppenwolf nick st.nick at th'controls lookin' for an entrance into mid 70s rock with some rodney english disco splatter laid over some boogie licks' given some keefism from goats head...it aint th'greatest thang to come down th'pike'n it sure aint th'worst, its part o'th'cheer groove with dick peterson'n three chancers'n also any 'underground 70s' pre pistols rockin is always interestin' seein how ideas'n preferences appear in every widenin' circles as late 20century c(k)ulture comes into focus more'n more...some unkind cats may wish to see this as 3 sixtees burnouts tryin to get a handle on th'youth market but th'youth market at this juncture was to stoned to know what they wanted but it probably weren't this...these last trx do kinda grow'n not much in a perverse/ironic way, they just work their way into th'organic computer'n when groovin' on a late summer afternoon they become real friendly'n hang nicely in th'air, but its th'first three air churners that make this mandatory ear filler, those distorted blasts o'mayhemic energy just blow a cats lid off...
...bein' brought up in a house where his R&B disk jockey father entertained jazz cats'n played th'record machine constantly its no surprise pigpen got heavily immersed in not only th'blooz music but also th'culture, reefer'n wine were makin themselves known to ron from a very early age...this is some downbeat country blooz from th'mid 60s beatnik landscape taped at th'dead house basement in 66'n th'quality is mighty fair(dead heads will not be disappointed)...garcia more than once commented that pigpen was th'soul o' th'dead, th'anchor that kept them from driftin too far in any direction, th'oil in th'engine that kept them rollin along th'hippy hi-way...here he's laid back(not too far back)'n funky with th'ripple flowin'n th'reefer burnin slowly givin off th'mellow vibes...plays well next to mother mccrees'n as a historical document o' th'end o' beatnik times its essential, a very cool addition to th'birth o' th'dead...tacked on th'end is a coupla numbers from pigs last tape session'n th'last is from 64 with jorma kaukonen sittin in...
...th'legendary 'whats th'new mary jane', a lennon tune that came around durin' th'summer o' 68 first started croppin' up outside beatle bore circles when it appeared on a coupla syd barrett boots in th'early seventies cos syd was supposed to be sittin' in but that unfortunately has just to remain a myth for now'n evermore...its john, george'n yoko plus mal evans gettin' down'n funky with some avant garde tomfoolery to compliment th'revolution 9 number but was rejected as double album fodder by paul who knew lennon was askin' too much havin' such shenanigans on their post pepper return to th'roots album(much preferrable to have ob-la-di) so it was mooted to be a plastic ono single but that was scrapped as apple fell into corrupt hands...hence this boot gettin credited to th'ono band cos as john once said'anyone can be th'plastic ono band', it just takes courage to step outside th'known...this is 50 minutes o' differin' takes'n overdub sessions which is easier to listen to than may at first appear to be th'case, tho fab4 geeks'n avantophobes may look upon things differently, they may wish to hear honey pie once more...
...when chrome slipped out from their psychedelic dungeon in ol'frisco back in 76 they came like a bolt from th'blue,not too many cats were kickin' up this sorta stoned yet very alive stew o' bad nutmeg trips back in th'mid70s...this was psych for th'next millennium,not retreads from th'first era,this was ground zero NEW TRIPPED OUT SCI-FI metal psych,where reality is a paranoid wobbly plane o'existance...screechy metallic guitars riff'n collide over manipulated tapes'n repetitive drums,TEEVEE samples wander into view'n disappear under squeeky violin splurt,distorted vocals'n cut up voices keep it all rollin along(a lazy comparison would be early pere ubu from cleveland but chrome have more rock'n roll attack,not quite as lumberin')...flipped out bug-eyed alien damage is th'order o' th'day on this 3cd package o'goodies from th'first'n decidedly best period o'chromeness,this is not a reissue o'th'original box set o'6 vinyl disks from around 83,this is a substantial re-jig with trx taken out'n replaced by others'n they both start with LP 2(alien soundtracks,'visitation',th'first is not represented for some reason best known to some one,somewhere)...cats diggin' th'small isolated basement practioners o' pharmaceutical freefrom freakout rockin' like destroy all monsters first incarnation/michael yonkers band/flow/early red crayola will dig this th'most,a brain oozin' gush o' twilight zone madness invokin' surreal visions from beyond th'spheres,a hemorrhagin' o' outta control beatnik slop beamin' in from th'WEIRD-SIDE...latter incarnations o' chrome have not been as satisfyin as these early disks(same ol'story for every combo)n' gettin' lumped in with th'industrial genre has devalued their worth no end,but that don't take away from th'fact that once they were a mighty force o' flipped out (bad)acid rock,one o' th'all time greats in mind disturbin' psych-noise,th'midnight demons from th'church with no upstairs,a cold clammy critical mass o' TV eyes...cats in th'know can slip it to th'android'n dig th'pharoah chromium,at least until all data lost,its that easy,it aint no jive,clyde...
...icy cold'n lonesome, dwellin in th'outer reaches way beyond th'mortal definitions o' existance, from th'darkest past to th'uncertain future nico inhabits a time'n place not on any map or in a time period known to th'keepers o' chronology...driftin on th'ether, motionlessly sailin' thru celestial winds under th'watchful eye o' th'guardians o' chaos nico speaks from th'temporal gap that runs between dreamtime'n th'unconcsious, th'hazy untouchable landscapes that few ever glimpse let alone wander freely'n unperturbed...nicos everpresent harmonium is backed by phil manzanera/eno/john cale so a fine stew o' ever unfoldin' avant noise is effortlessly swirlin' with squeeks, croaks'n moans all meanderin' thru, weavin' hypnotic patterns from th'netherworld...th'last in a loose trilogy that began with marble index'n desertshore a few years earlier all truly beautiful albums that continue to offer new ways o' thinkin',ways o' viewin' th'familiar from unfamiliar positions, late night list'nin indeed...
...th'only LP to feature jimmy page was seen at th'time as not as good as it coulda been but lookin' back its a real nice effort from th'changin' times when '67 sike was givin way to a more heavy blooz rock/early proggyness...there's some cool chamber sike with excellent guitar squeel on th'title trk followed by some groovy patented yardbird R&B, again with some pagey stringbendin' over th'top...third trk (white summer)sees page lookin forward, not to led zep 1 but th'third folky effort so he's already lookin' to inject london folk(bert jansch/davy graham) onto a group scenario...more hard pop follows with then more sike with exotic instrumentation/blooz rockin' 'n jimmy whips out th'violin bow a coupla times...dig trk5 with th'funky eastern groove just like eric burden was doin' with th'winds o' change LP...its th'name'n expectations that made this LP sound a failure to rock snobs but any layabouts who groove on th'late 60s anglo sike/blooz scene will find lots too enjoy, there was a way forward with this line up but they all wanted 'more' too quickly at th'time, cos with th'bonus cuts that come with this reissue added, they show some sorta happy medium coulda been found combinin' keith relfs renaissance'n some wigged out zeppo style shreekin', but hindsight does allow a wider vision so this must be seen as it is, a cat must make o' it what they will...
...straight away this pile up comes on like th'yardbirds on heavy drug prescription, all th'cats flailin' away in different directions yet all headin' for th'same goal...with th'second trk there's some wiggy voodoo psych from th'sleezy hollywood back alleys that th'alice cooper group would wander lookin for th'right moment to unleash th'new sound they were cookin' up...cats who're hep to th'pretties LP will dig these earlier run thru's'n groove on alices harp playin here'n there that sounds like something from country joes fish's first effort, that lonesome stoned basement sound...th'3 last trx're some kinda rehearsal warm ups that hark back to th'pre cooper name when they were a garage outfit wailin' on stones/music machine/spencer davis type R&B which sound earlier than th'demos...th'prime piece o' grist with this is th'first single (reflected/livin)in mono nestlin' at th'end o' th'cool toonage...sound quality fluctuates but overall its acceptable for whats on offer, cos th'original coopers were real yanquee contenders to take anglo psyched out hard'n tripped freakbeatR&B with that avant narcotic touch to a wider audience in th'upcomin decade...an illicit trip into th'dark underbelly o' vietnam drained teenage weird worlds...
...th'avant euro wing o' th'velvets'n th'poesy from th'soft machine plus chart visitor(w/roxy music)all get together at th'rainbow in ol'london town to make there presence known'n sell some wares(they're all on island records)...th'LP was released a month after th'gig'n for that time that was quick almost like pickin it up as a souvenir...eno kicks thangs off with a coupla wobbly poprock toons followed by john cales singular take on 'heartbreak hotel' whilst nico brings th'side to a close with her version o' 'th'end', th'jimbo morrison song from th'first doors album...side two belongs to kevin, it was supposed to be his evenin' with island records holdin' out most hope that he'd be th'money spinner,with five groovy decadent ditties...overall its a cool look at these refugees from th'popworld who were all lookin for some kinda way forward,from th'past into th'light...
...th'first collaboration from johnyoko outside th'fabs for public consumption came out to mainly public blankness, if'n it weren't for th'cover gettin some frenzied activity from th'square press this would sit alongside georges 'electronic sound''n wonderwall in th'great unwashed awareness o' solo fab slabs...touted as avant garde by most this sits nearer to out there musique-krautrock (laden with plenty o' anglo humour)...loops o' homemade twangs'n bangs clatter'n clamour around pianos plinked'n yoko invokin 'peace thru art', john chattin'n coughin'n both o' em actin out a bizarre soap opera with distorted generic lines filched from classic radio soap o' th'50s, when soaps in th'U.K did reflect 'real life'...this is th'future lennonos sayin we're not different from other people, we just reflect life different, here they're soapers(entertainment), they have no answers but th'truth'n truth is th'answer if enough o' th'population beleive in th'truth bein th'answer...what would be a top idea to contemplate is th'fact all th'fabs dig experimental music, includin ringo(dig th'vocal on yellow sub)so to really make a grand exit th'fabs coulda collaborated on a huge trainwreck o' spaced-out wig liftin double disk o' off-th'-wall electronic-taped-looped-heavy-helter-skelter rockin...georges bleeps/sitar, johns tape looped feedback/pauls orchestrated cut-ups all over thumpin' reverbed ringo drum'n pauls phat bass(yoko would guest wail/patti would be cover star/linda would take th'photos/maureen cook th'lunch)...far from leavin th'group scene'n ethic they would invent future rockin'n therefore by extension there'd be no need for computer geeks formin bands in th'21century...anyhows this two virgins biscuit is a top groove that cats with an ear for something else will dig with good cheer...
...recorded by some hep thinkin' cat on 03/15/69 at th' boston tea party in front o' lous amp 'n as a result all th' squeal 'n scrunch is upfront givin' slightly th'illusion they're playin' instro versions with th'vocals so far down...a very nice amount o' choogle'n poundin th'whole way thru'n all layabouts should dig th'way heroin slips into sister ray for over halfhour endin' th'set...dig th' keyboard/guitar mangle at about two thirds through, real boss soundin'...tape hiss 'n bad editin' lets th'velvet head into th'murky world o' illicit list'nin...last three trx on disc two come from th'same venue(trx2&4 12/12/68, trk3 07/11/69) 'n give up some more velvetness which is as necessary'n usefull as a cleandout 'n fresh bong on long afternoons o' hooligan indulgence...
