I’ve got a bit of a query, chaps. Do I repurchase the UK reissue of Kinks on beautiful, ruby red vinyl, or upgrade my turntable? She skips like a ruthless gang of 2nd graders in afternoon recess. I recently replaced the needle, so that ain’t it. No earthquakes as of late, though we’re still eagerly anticipating “the big one.” Hmmm. Time to save up for some 1200s? Then there’s the issue of space! WHERE THE HELL AM I GOING TO PUT THEM? I’ve already got a mountain of records squatting on the floor. (The International Voice of Reason voice: “SIGH!” Sounds more like “UHHHHHHH!”) Well anyway, if you own this release and it skips, hit me up, otherwise, it’s time for some new hardware.
Crack open a cold one and treat your ears to the majestic tones of Goleta’s grandfathers of punk. Today is, in fact, Lagwagon Day, so be it Trashed, Let’s Talk About Feelings, one of their newer releases, or even their more metal self-titled debut, spin some Lag, man! Oh, and don’t spill that beer on the cover.
(In my humble opinion, it doesn’t get any better than Trashed. So many bangers in there!)
Excited to watch this doc by Bill Perrine about the onslaught of imperative hardcore rock to come out of San Diego between 86 and 96. Sticker reads, “THE STORY OF SAN DIEGO’S LEGENDARY 90S MUSIC SCENE FEATURING DRIVE LIKE JEHU, ROCKET FROM THE CRYPT, THE LOCUST, ROB CROW, HEROIN, BOILERMAKER, TRUMANS WATER, THREE MILE PILOT, NO KNIFE, CRASH WORSHIP & MANY MORE” Thanks to whoever sent it to me!
Comas are no fun. I don’t recommend them. So, what’s been going on for the past three plus years? Oh… really? OH, YOU’RE FUGGIN’ KIDDING ME! That sounds… pleasant…
While the recovery process checks all its much-needed boxes, let’s dig into some prudently groovy ear candy, shall we? Have you heard the PLOSIVS record? Swami John Reis (Rocket from the Crypt, Hot Snakes, The Night Marchers, Pitchfork, Drive Like Jehu) and Rob Crow (Pinback) collude on 10 tracks of easy listening anarchy. Something your ol’ lady might actually dig, if she’s the Jose Gonzalez or Jesca Hoop type. Let’s see, what else is there? Lovage reissued their groundbreaking album (we’ll explore that later), and They Might Be Giants have been busy issuing colored vinyl versions of their back catalogue. Hope you’ve saved up your money, kids! The International Voice of Reason is dead, or quit, which is as good as dead (RIP Nightmare Fridays), and as per usual, there’s a hefty stack of “need to listen to” records on the floor. SIGH! Well, (says, in the attempt to convince himself) let’s do it to it!
Let’s dance… let’s frolic… let’s struggle to maintain our balance around the furious spindle, to what appears to be music pressed on the best records made. Perfect is an audacious term, but with gyrations as questionable and inviting as the art suggests, who’s to say that Perfect Records isn’t just what they, and the name suggests? I’m certainly not one to judge, at least, not tonight.
We’ve all seen this iconic logo by the Victor Talking Machine Company, but did you know, rumor has it, or lore, really, that the original painting that inspired this historic logo (a direct lift, really) by English painter Francis Barraud has a bit of a heartwarming backstory. Sure, a questionable yet awe-inspiring story will certainly help you sell records, so take it with a grain of sentimental salt. Apparently, Francis’ brother Mark had passed away, and Francis inherited his brother’s dog Nipper, a terrier, along with a a cylinder phonograph (Edison, anyone?) and some cylinders with poor, deceased Mark’s voice on them. When little Nipper, as the story goes, would listen to his departed master’s voice projecting through the vibrant horn, he / she would peer at it with inspirational interest, spawning Francis to paint the iconic piece in 1899… but this time (suck it, Edison!) with a disc machine instead of the original cylinder apparatus, and the rest, as they say, and is clearly known, is history. Check out the painting and rogue history on Wikipedia. The photo above was taken, by me, from a recently acquired 78 sleeve, printed some 80-90 years ago. The more you kinda know?
These New Jersey mooches… These Yoohoo-drinking, rooftop toilet-throwing, adolescent-minded seniors of punk are coming to Los Angeles in May… and we just secured tickets (Thanks, Kyle!). I can’t wait to hold an overpriced beer and spit snotty lyrics at top volume in the back of an overcrowded room along with this seminal band, surrounded by like-minded idiots of similar and sophisticated taste. It’s comforting to see these punk elders still arousing the crowd into a much-too-short “East Coast, fuck you!” call and response. (Photo cropped and ripped from my phone and provided by, I suppose, the Bouncing Souls?) Check ’em out.
We have a lot to celebrate as The Prudent Groove turns six today, but nothing more important than offering a heartfelt thank you to those of you who have stopped by to say hello. Over the now 2193 posted blurbs of random, mind-numbing amusement, it’s clear, year after year, which post tickles the most fancies: “The 1966 Philco High-Fidelity All-Transistor Stereophonic Radio-Phonograph” with 3,468 total views as of this posting. I’ve gotten some recent requests (mainly for more vintage inserts), I had my original PG Gmail account hacked, and I’ve met a bunch of amazing, like-minded time-wasters along the way. Thank you all for continuing to share in this goofy-ass exploration into a hoarder’s obsession. I can’t predict the coming future of this page, but six years has certainly been a phenomenal ride. Cheers, and happy birthday, Prudent Groove!
This… is a cutting board, and a damn fine one at that! Now, is the Tomato label a play on Apple Records, or an obscure call out to Tomato Records, distributors of Philip Glass and Robert Wilson’s 1978 contemporary operatic classic, Einstein on the Beach? Either way, dinner prep is always, and instantly much more groovy with a cutting board shaped like a record. (Four out of four stars.)
Presented here is a brief representation of last night’s spins. You can see how the evening progressed into an outright cacophony of carnal violence with the first Revolting Cocks release (1985’s No Devotion, as good of a nightcap as there ever was), but what isn’t instantly apparent is the decision making that tied these releases together. James Booker’s The Lost Paramount Tapes followed by Thee Midniters’ debut self-titled, then finally the grandfathers of Wax Trax! Records, RevCo. I can’t for the life of me remember the motivation, not that it matters, so I guess this telling was little more than a mundane tail of unrelated entertainment, if that is in fact how what we’re calling it.
We made tortillas and salsa over the weekend, so it was, of course, fitting to spin some Mariachi El Bronx. Turns out, this copy of their first album, self-titled, fetches a hefty sum online. As of right now, only 390 people on the Discogs community “Have,” while 338 people “Want.” Oh, yeah! The fruit beer! It was a first for me, and was equal parts “interesting” and quite tasty. As an aside, both the tortillas and the salsa turned out near perfectly, so that’s something.
Full frequency stereophonic sound, like you’ve never heard it reproduced before. Though there’s certainly something nostalgic and simple about the grandfather mono sound, something cleaner, it goes without saying that the technological advances of stereophonic sound changed the audio recording game for the better. Whatever your preference per individually pressed records, we’re all kings and queens of our own destinies, in large part to stereophonic sound.
Nun Sutch… I’ve been salivating over this release ever since my father, another record collector, sent me a photo some several months ago. I know little-to-nothing ( read: absolutely nothing) about his “Lord” or his ambitious shenanigans. We look forward to discovering the greatness within… thanks, Big Guy!
A Whole Lotta Frankie, as the record title goes, but part of me wonders (hopes, really), that young Jimmy Page and Robert Plant were fancy to the Frankie sound and were keen to this album, so much so that they “adopted” the “Whole Lotta’ part for their own drug-induced, sex-crazed, chart-topping needs. 17 hits had Frankie, Page and Plant got that beat.
Never one to scoff at anything swing-era related, I thank my thoughtful kin for this greatest hits collection by the comfort-inducing Glenn Miller, simply and adequately titled, Pure Gold. Chattanooga Choo Choo, In the Mood, Little Brown Jug… I can go on and on, and on, and on… I will say, for the record, that Moonlight Serenade (also included on this 12″) may, in fact, be one of the best songs ever written. Comfort food for the ears. You’re welcome.
An American Heritage Record… need I say more? Yes?! Well, fine, then. This unique collection (titled Over Here Over There) consists of popular WWII songs on both sides of the Atlantic (United States and England, for those of you geographically inclined). An interesting concept compilation album, for sure, the household eagerly looks forward to this historical trip down Popmusic Ln.
This is the last remaining album to be personally entered into Discogs, at least, until the next one comes along. Titled, Polish String Bands Play Polkas, this jovial 12″ is a perfect fit for mid-afternoon beer-battered cheese curd adventures, and, well, the like. Keep an eye out in the (not so) near future for its inclusion into the Discogs universe.
Though the year is unknown, I estimate this price sticker to be somewhere in the mid-1960s range. Let’s say, for the sake of this post, that we’re looking at sealed record from 1968, with a price tag of $3.97. Adjusted for inflation, that same sealed record would cost you a whopping $28.67 today. That’s a bit of a jump, no? Anyway, $28 and change is, unfortunately, about the going rate for new releases these days (a bit more for Mondo and Waxwork gems). Which, in a roundabout way, brings me to my point. Buy used records. Hunt down original releases, and save yourself a hefty sum. Unless, of course, you’ve got a bottomless coin purse, then the world is your canvas, assuming of course you have space for all of your fancy colors.