Rockhunter, Issue 6, October 2003
Including: Brown Stripes, Lost Sounds of The Grympen Myre and English Regional Punk
Modern News
Speaking of the awkward squad, another reprehensible bunch of reprobates from the Brighton area have come to my attention in the past months since my last foray into the murky world of the magazine media.
The Brown Stripes have been raising some eyebrows with their particularly twisted version of the anti-bass movement in indie-rock. This uncle and niece combo is currently in talks with a large record company (it sez ere). Good for them. If you want to release large records, go to a large record company!!
This is not the first Brighton band to court the majors over the years, and I suspect it will not be the last, given the amount of talentless Pop Idol-fodder down-shifting from London in search of a vanished Bohemia. I cant stand ‘em!! (More spleen vented on that in later issues, Im sure!!!).
As well as the obvious spoof reference, which will win them few friends in the fashion-hungry world of indie-garage, the Brown Stripes seem to be heading on a crash course with the new moral militia. (Although they are not hurtling towards that morass as fast as that other bunch of Sussex scallywags, Speedophile). Their whole schtick is based on a white trash ethic, but they’re not doing it fashionista style.
The picture accompanying their demo is pretty ugly. It looks like The Cardiacs auditioning for a Phoenix Nights talent showcase. I’m not kidding. These people look seriously nuts.
Sonya (guitar) and Ian (guitar) have produced a cassette featuring three of their current tunes: (1) “Pink Straw”, (2) “My Owl” and (3) “Midnight Feast”. All songs are done in classic Cramps/White Stripes style, with two guitars wailing and a bluesy shout over the top.
I like the last tune best, the first two being a bit too straight out of the my first garage band textbook. And I’ve heard of lot of that sort of stuff in my time. Er, where was I? “Midnight Feast” is basically, “When The Levee Breaks” crossed with “Moulty”, and it’s all the better for those references worn on the sleeve. I’ve not heard a better slow blues builder for some time, and that’s some praise, believe me!
However, the big question mark is, I’m not sure if I’m being taken for a ride by these people. It’s possible that this is the same crew that almost scammed me in the summer of 2001 with a creditable CD (with authentic crackles and tape hiss) purporting to emerge from late-1969/early-1970 by an outfit called The Brown Acid.
Whatever their vintage, I still reckon The Brown Acid could have made the grade with a couple of their tunes. The excellent “Sweet Drunken Ladies” could have easily graced The Darkness’s set. I presume they’ve gone the way of all flesh, since the last in a series of increasingly frantic and deranged press releases told of their frustration with music business bread-heads and their imminent demise.
Anyhow, it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been had. (And that’s another in a long series of long, long stories! — Ed.)
It’ll be interesting to see whether the Brown Stripes make it out of the garage, but if they do, you better believe I’ll be there.
Lively Ones
I got quite a haul the other week. A mate of mine acquired (no names, no pack drill!!) a number of ultra-rare acetates. Effendi, I make special price for you, my friend!!! Some I knew, but most were a complete mystery.
One, however, was a mystery wrapped in an enigma that had then been wrapped in bacon and roasted with all the trimmings. It was “Offerings In The Time of Mind” b/w “Ancient Village” by The Grympen Myre. I’m not often surprised any more, after years and years of trolling around musty shops and back rooms. But on this occasion I was genuinely intrigued. What was this unknown disc doing in the hands of my mate?
I know that things still turn up, but I’ve only been lucky enough to find a handful of complete unknown unknowns in 30 odd years of collecting (and some were very odd indeed, believe you me!!). And here was my old mucker with a wheelbarrow load!!! The thot plickens.
Anyway, I took said treasure home and gave it a spin and I was totally amazed. Far from being a wet, soft-sike nightmare, as I’d suspected, The Myre lay down a hell of a sound. Somewhere between Jason Crest and Black Sabbath, if you can get with that…
The A-side has all the hallmarks of great heavy psych, which, its no secret, is entirely my bag. Clanging bell-like guitars give way to a plump, rolling ascendant bass line.
There’s something holy and, at the same time, unholy, about the way this tune grabs you with whimsy and then bites yer hands with total riff-based heaven. However, a question mark hangs over the flip. Coming on like The Attack, or The Game, this is a real oddity, because the arrangement and ampage, to my ears, is totally early-mid 70s.
For a comparison, think Flintlock riding shotgun for Love. There you go. No idea about this one. The guitars are fresh and un-muddled, but the drums are out of a totally different beat era.
That’s what I love about this game. You never know what youll turn up. (Apologies for coming over all Forrest Gump!). The others I did not hear, but I’ve paid a deposit on 3 of them. So hopefully, I’ll hear some knockout sounds and knock out a couple of reviews in the next ish.
More about my surprise new finds later on!!!
Locked Away For A Million Years
As I write this I’m listening to a great new comp received the other day from a new outfit in Psych Town. They’re called Woollen Records and theyre based on the south coast, according to the not-very-helpful info on the sleeve!!
Don’t know about you, but I wholly approve of the idea of woollen records. They’d be easier to store and you’d only need a knitting needle to play them. Mind you, you’d have to watch out for the moths. I digress!
This fledgling outfit’s latest waxing is titled Locked Away For A Million Years: English Regional Punk, 1963-1980. Taking, I presume, Tim Warren’s (Mr. Back From The Grave’s) personal style to heart, Thee guys (girls??!!) at Woollen (This guy? This girl, even? Ed.) have taken a slightly more human approach to the usually stodgy comp game and come up with the intriguing notion of banging all their favourites on a long-player.
This intriguing approach gives us all a peek inside their wigged-out noggins and vast collections with number 4 (or, to give it it’s proper reference, Vol. IV) in their Locked Away series. And very generous too, say I.
With the great sweep of time taken in in this comp, you can really see some interesting connections emerging. The big question is, how the hell did I miss the first three in the series? Bah!
The idea of sorting out the English scene into regions is also an intriguing one. Long since accepted as a way of getting to grips with the US scene, it’s high time that some one did the same for the UK, which had tremendous variations throughout during the 60s onwards.
If you’re a coincidence freak, then the following story should send you into orbit, my friend! What should I find on Side Two, Band One? The Grympen Myre B-side!! I kid you not.
When youve been collecting, swapping and hunting around for as long as I have, you get to realise that this is a very small world. But even I was surprised by the inclusion of The Mighty Myre on this new comp. Seems like the Woollen people have a yen for the same kind of warped vinyl as me.
The starters on each side are genuine unknown diamonds. Side One kicks off with “Your Carriage Awaits”, a weird psych ballad from Christopher Eager (think the less successful alter-ego of Thane Russall!!!). There’s fuzz lines, big fluffy bass and crescendo drumming galore.
I also really like The Christmas Game’s “Locked Away For A Million Years” — from which the whole series gets its name — which to my mind is a negative answer song to The Mirror’s “Faster Than Light”.
Most of the other tunes are a pretty hit-and-miss bunch, in my opinion. And all of the late-punk offerings eat considerable amounts of doo-doo, in my humble opinion. It still has to be said that this compilation is the way forward, unless comps are to become a totally redundant form.
But if you like your rhythm bluesy and your beat freaky, there’s plenty of feedback, howling cats, and so forth, to keep you satisfied.
My only complaint about this otherwise utterly beaterly product is that despite Woollens south coast location, there’s not a sausage — nada, if you will — by bands from that part of the world. Methinks they should have contacted a certain interested party…
The other Woollen LP is a very strange proposition indeed. It’s a live performance from 1971 by a band called The Druid College. The sound quality is appalling and the songs are long, early-prog-like rambles with riffy interludes reminiscent of Interstellar-vintage Floyd, or Quicksilver.
I can’t really recommend this one with my hand on my heart, psych fans, but their riff-heavy stylings have got to get them some attention in Collector-land.
Editorial
No time this time. Maybe next time!!
All the time.
The Editor
Next Time
OK!! I know you ‘orrible lot are still waitin for Fen and Devon punk, psych and heavy, but gimme a break, I’m getting there!!!
Late 2006 edit: I’ve recently heard that a bunch of ne’er-do-wells is doing the rounds as The Brown Stripes in the pubs of Brighton. I hasten to add that this not the same band as the one I leapt up to champion even before their first gig. Notwithstanding (Just what does that word mean? — Ed.) the fact that my Brown Stripes (an unforgettable image, to be sure!!! — Picture Ed.) are defunct, I stress that the two bands are as different as one cheese is from another.
And little surprise that Speedophile didn’t make it to the end. Rumour has it they were stoned to death by a mob searching for a drug-taking child molester. C’est la vie.
Now then,
Ed.
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