By 1989, Public Image Ltd weren’t exactly redefining the zeitgeist anymore. In fact, it’s arguable they weren’t really a band anymore – just John Lydon‘s personal project. Which, in the case of Warrior, seemed to be about proving that he could rock at least as big as U2 (or whoever) and succeeding, with the best version a remix that’s now almost impossible to find, probably because of the sample of Old Lodge Skins himself laying down his humble but fierce warrior prayer.
“Wall of Voodoo at Vancouver’s Luv-A-Fair in 1983 remains one of the greatest live shows I’ve ever seen. I walked in knowing maybe two of their songs (including the Johnny Cash cover) and walked out a convert. But then lead guy Stan Ridgway quit, and though both he and the band would continue to release stuff, none of it would ever touch the electricity of what they had together. At least I still had the records, except they weren’t as good as the live item, with Call of the West a case in point. Whereas live it was an epic sort of west coast surf rawk film noir (with an Ennio Morricone edge), on record it was merely very good. Oh well.” (Philip Random)
The Collectors came from Chilliwack (the town) and would eventually become Chilliwack (the band). But first they had some heavy psychedelic work to do. Listen to side A of their debut album and you hear a band doing a nice job of pulling off a Mamas + Papas vibe. But put on Side B and things get way more serious with an epic eruption of non-stop quiet-LOUD-quiet-LOUD musings and rantings on love’s many colours, some of them quite disturbing indeed.
“African Head Charge were nothing if not truth in advertising. Or as I once heard it put, ‘it’s like Africa on acid, except you’re at least ten thousand miles from Africa, so what is it really?.’ What they were was a loose sort of psychedelic dub outfit formed by London based percussionist Bonjo Iyabinghi Noah in the early 1980s, with Adrian Sherwood at the mixing board, having fun with frequencies, noise, rhythm and razor blades (which is how they used to edit audio in those days – direct application of sharpened metal to electromagnetic tape). Depth Charge is pure truth in advertising. It goes deep and the slightest contact leaves you with at least a bit of burn.” (Philip Random)
Frank Zappa took no prisoners with the cover for 1970’s Weasels Ripped My Flesh. And fitting it was for the music found inside – equal parts brilliant and painful, particularly the suite of stuff that finishes Side Two, starting with doo-wop anti-flower power anthem Oh No! and then onward via Orange County Lumber Truck to the flesh tearing finale that was the title track. It has been argued that the whole hippie thing stopped right here. Certainly the Mothers of Invention already had, Weasels Ripped My Flesh being one of two albums to be released after their demise. Though Zappa would, of course, quickly reform them for further assaults upon society through the first half of the 1970s.
The Mothers of Invention, Engelse groep bij aankomst Schiphol *17 oktober 1968
“When Einsturzende Neubauten recorded Sand, the Berlin Wall was still dividing their home town, a fact of geo-political nature if there ever was one. So yeah, here was a raw slab of pure, impossible to ignore Cold War soul. Little did I realize it was a Lee Hazelwood cover until a certain backyard BBQ maybe a decade later. The Wall was gone by then and even eight thousand miles away you could feel the overall decompression. Or maybe it was all the marijuana and tequila. Anyway, I was lying in a hammock counting the clouds or whatever and suddenly there was Nancy Sinatra doing an Einsturzende cover. It made perfect sense.” (Philip Random)
Randophonic 