Up And Atom Dept.- Atom Juice

Yemen in '68 was the last place you'd expect to find a thriving psychedelic scene, yet the night clubs of Sanaa were a boiling cauldron of lysergic experiment. Teens gathered at the infamous Club Fatwa to freak out to the grooviest new bands on the acid-rock scene, and the grooviest was Atom Juice, led by enigmatic Abdul Alhazred, ex-child movie star (that's him in A Yemeni Christmas). Their first album [self-titled, above - Ed.] was a national hit in '68, but global stardom eluded them when the great camel milk drought of '69 crashed the nation's economy overnight.

I got nuthin'.

But you get this unfeasibly bodacious album, which if you dig Floyd circa 68-70, because of course you do, you will clasp to your withered bosom with weak cries of joy and thankfulness.

Millionaire socialite and IoF© Prexy Farquhar Throckmorton III [left - Ed.] sez: "Say, fellows! If you take drugs as seriously as I do, you certainly will not regret downloading today's swell deliverable! And that's a FoamGuarantee®!"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 Deliverable meets all relevant  OSHA standards.

Art Not The Artist Dept. - Van Morrison

Van Morrison [left - Ed.] enjoys self, yesterday

 

Every Van Morrison piece ever written contains the word grumpy. Not this one. Grumpy though he be, I'm not going to fall into the trap of writing him off as grumpy. Nor am I going to repeat the old saying there are two types of people in the world, those who like Van Morrison and those who have met him. I'm above that kind of lazy journalism.

Never his own best friend (he can start a fight in an empty room), Van "Grumpytrousers" Morrison has almost zero capacity for quality control, resulting in decades of eye-roll albums that might have one or two cuts that vaguely remind you of how great, how truly fantastic, he used to be. Not that he gives a fuck what we think. Live, he can still deliver, but as a recording artist he's about as exciting as a roll of damp roofing felt in an abandoned warehouse.

Very occasionally an album slips out, unnoticed in the all-engulfing Zorn-like landslide of product, that's actually pretty damn great. 'Frinstance, the Live At Orangefield album. Original cover was well up to his usual standard of zero-budget butt-ugly, so I done a new one:

Note lens flare reference

 

That wasn't so very hard, was it? This super-swellegant album, superbly recorded at Van's old school in Belfast in 2014, eventually limped out in 2024 to universally good, and well-deserved, reviews. It's an uplifting, joyous, soulful performance from beginning to end, with maybe the best backing vocals the man's ever had. He's in fine voice and great good spirits, performing a set representing his entire post-Them career without relying on "the old stuff", and it all flows like a river.

And there's last year's Remembering Now, which again had an insultingly cheap cover. The idea was fine, so here's a different treatment of it:

The album suffered from rampaging filler bloat, as does all his recent output, so as a service to you, Mister Music Enthusiast, I've cut the tracks which by general consensus are the runts of the litter, and the album now clocks in at a listenable forty-seven minutes, as God intended. And what an album it is. Memorably described as a "stunning return to adequacy", it's actually much better than that, and I think undervalued because it's buried in the sodden mass of aural kelp he's been slopping out since, like, forever. This is caviar.

This post funded in part by The Madame George Corsetry Company. "Discreet service and attentive fittings for the fuller figure - TV and Stage our speciality. Ask to see our range of plus-sized high heels!"

 

 

 

 

 

Modern Life Dept. - Amazon Warehouse Workers "Paid In John Zorn CDs"

Global spunk-bucket takes selfie at flagship facility, Almas Perdidas, Mexico

 

You'll know art-jazzer John Zorn [below - Ed.] for releasing more recordings than the rest of the music industry put together. "I try to issue a new CD every ten minutes or so," says Zorn from his basement duplex in leafy Hackensack, "but occasionally they can take up to a couple of hours to write and perform."

But what you won't know is that his prodigious output has now filled the purpose-built Amazon warehouse at Almas Perdidas, Mexico. Zorn again: "Jeff is, like, a huge fan of my work, so I was flattered when he literally razed like an entire town to store and distribute my music, but apparently it's at capacity already! You can't even slide in a single disc without its jewel case." 

John Zorn, yesterday

 

Zorn [left - Ed.] blames the economy for the stockpile of billions of unsold recordings. "Jeff tells me sales of his signature anal beads and weighted cat blankets, once the mainstay of the business, are at an all-time low. When people can't afford the essentials, luxuries like food and healthcare take a hammering."

The solution? Online crapfest cockroach Jeff Bezos now pays his workers in John Zorn CDs! "It's a win-win situation," smiles Bezos at the olympic-grade ski run on his diamond-studded mile-long ocean liner. "Everyone benefits, from me down to the shareholders!"

Intergalactic dump-humper on motivational tour of workers' lodgings, Almas Perdidas

 

Jesus Iglesias, Executive Logistics Officer at Almas Perdidas [left- Ed.], concurs. "Mister Bezos, he is the great man! I build the new home for my family with the John Zorn box sets! And my wife Conchita, she make the tortillas from the inserts and from the booklets! We are so happy! Please, Mister Zorn, make many new wonderful CDs! Five stars!"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This is the second of our Pulitzer Prize-nom investigative journalism op-eds covering Modern Life. Read the first here.

Get Goosed!

Oh come on! We've all been there!

Last year, Goose's Everything Must Go was unanimously voted [by you - Ed.] Album O' Th' Year! Since then it's been a real and rare pleasure to work back through their catalog. If you "dig" the now sounds of uptempo rock, pop, and roll, these swingin' long-playing elpee records will get yer arthritic old toes a-tappin'!

Those oh-so-musical qualities that put them ahead of everyday, lackluster beat combos? Why, here they are in full!

Likeable vocals from folks who can actually carry a tune. So important.

 

 

Tunes. Goose is often likened to Humphrey McGee And His Phishes, but these guys hang their chops on actual songs. Songs you can remember. Even you. Chord changes that don't leave a chalky aftertaste!

 

 

Did I hear you say technical proficiency? No, on account which you don't use that-type langwidge. But, oboy, do these chaps got chops! Out th' ass!

 

 

 

"G-String Gussie" Gooselips [left - Ed.] sez: "I am literally like so up for getting Goosed by these fellows!"

 

Shirley & Dolly Collins Dept. - Rasta Sistas!

Cover art by Family Man Dave© at Kingstown Kinko

Soon after their ahead-of-its-time Gangsta Sistahs album got canned by the neckbeards at Topic, Shirley & Dolly Collins took a much-needed vacation in sunny Jamaica! Let's let the sisters take up the story:

Shirl: The first thing we noticed was how attentive the dark-skinned native gentlemen were!

Doll: Courteous to a fault! They never really left our side. Found us free accommodation!

Shirl:  Charming little beach hut miles from anywhere! Irie!

Doll: And they introduced us to their fascinating religious ceremonies.

Shirl: A lot of herbal remedies, an' t'ing! My goodness!

Doll: We reveled in or new-found freedom!

Shirl: (laughs) Not too many clothes required, as I remember!

Doll: It was too hot! Anyway, we couldn't find them.

Shirl: Musically, it was a life-changing experience. We soon adopted their riddims, and recorded some dub-wise plates in honour of Hailie Selassie's return.

Doll: Irie!

Shirl: Chris Blackwell found us and called the police, the big spoilsport. And no, he didn't even release the album.

(The sisters gather at the harmonium)

 

O as I was going to Kingston Town 

Irie-down, natty-down, pass the dutchie to the left hand side

'Twas heavy manners going down

Irie-down, natty-down, pass the dutchie to the left hand side

My love he was the fairest of the fair

Irie-down, dilly-down, pass the dutchie to the left hand side

With his ebony skin and dreadlock hair

Irie-down, natty-down, pass the dutchie to the left hand side

He promised I would be his bride

Irie-down, natty-down, pass the dutchie to the left hand side

On the Black Star Liner we would ride

Irie-down, natty-down, pass the dutchie to the left hand side

But the ticket came at such a cost

Irie-down, natty-down, pass the dutchie to the left hand side

My maidenhood I willingly lost 

Irie-down, natty-down, pass the dutchie to the left hand side

This post funded by Black Star Eyeliner™ from Maybelline®