BAYMI Dept.

 

Th' IoF© Audio Initiatives - Christmas Catalogue Raisonné

IOFAI002

IOFAI001

With Christmas coming up, th' IoF© is transitioning into a Santa's Grotto of groovy giveaways! Responding to unprecedented public demand [blow it out yer ass - Ed.] each and every one of our beloved Audio Initiatives ("The AI You Can Trust"®) will be dragged kicking and screaming from the crawl space and offered to you ABSOLUTELY FREE!

Why not download multiple copies to give to friends, loved ones, and the homeless, at this very special time of year? Spread the Yuletide cheer! They make original and thoughtful Xmas gifts, and your generosity will not go unrecognised!

Each succulent serving of ear candy will be presented in chronological order, starting with the very first, and then moving on to the next, which was like the second, and so on. The third one will be like, number three? New additions will be added to the top, so you'll see the first last, so they'll count down, not up. I think I got this.

Make sure you don't miss out - why not keep this page open as an attractive screensaver!? Imagine your excitement as the next IoF©AI™ "pops up"! Oh boy! This is going to be the best Seasonal Holiday, like, ever!

Jenny Dhalia [left - Ed.] of Mons Veneris, CT. sez: "Why, these Isle O' Foam© Audio Initiatives™ offer my husband and I the tops in quality entertainment!"

Rollo Rumpy-Pumpy [left - Ed.] of Knuckbuster, AK, sez: "As mother of five rambunctious li'l rugrats, I find the soothing qualities of these recordings a blessed relief!"

 

 

 

 

 

Liner Notes

IOFAI001 Thirty Minutes Over Wonderland

Like everything else in life, this didn't turn out how I expected. It's not the abstract ambient psych psuite I originally intended, nor is it the simple comp of unaltered tracks that took its place when the whole thing got All Too Much. It's something in-between, tracks edited and merged into a pseamless psych flight. There's nothing throat-slashingly obscure here - how many do you recognise?

The whole thing floats by in an iridescent bubble you can climb into for a while. Keeping it to thirty minutes (I have so many massive comps I never listen to) meant leaving out [YOUR FAVORITES]. And a couple of mine. There's nothing remotely heavy, no surprise mood breakers, but enough variety to keep you from nodding out (unless that's what you want to do). Nothing camp or ironic or exploito-fake, no "referencing" or "chanelling", and nothing recorded since way back then. The super-saturated color, the patchouli shimmer, the dumb beautiful optimism, these are authentic manifestations of the times. As live as you want them to be.

If you've forgotten the sun, don't worry, the sun remembers you ...

IOFAI002 Thirty Minutes Through The Looking Glass

Here ya go, pals! When your grandchildren cluster at your slippered feet, gazing up with eyes undimmed by life's bitter travail, and ask "gee Gwampy, what was fychodoolia?" You can play the li'l tykes this, because this is what was.

You will need headphones. You will need a half hour to yourself. While you immerse yourself in the fractal fringe of the fun zone, try to discern the Cheshire Cat on the album cover! And th' Eye of Agamotto! Hoo boy! Some fun, huh, gang?

Neil Young BLASTS Use Of Clickbait Bikini Model To Boost Page Hits For Under-Performing Blog Piece!

Neil Young, BLASTING, yestiddy!

Famed folk-rock hitmaker Neil Young LASHED OUT yestiddy at "exploitative, sexist" use of SCANTILY-CLAD bikini model by "desperate" blog czar Farquhar Throckmorton III!

"Just because his vanity project of second-tier rock music didn't get the hits he thought it deserved, he's duping innocent, well-meaning internet enthusiasts into downloading it by using a completely inappropriate image of some chick in a bikini! And I'm not even on the comp! I did second-tier rock music better than anybody! And what's she got in her nose?"
 

And now for something completely different. This is a straightforward comp (with a little editing and crossfade) of a genre that, as far as I know, is relatively underexploited. There are thousands of psych and garage comps out there, but this draws its material from the immediate post-psych late sixties USA. They're all albums bands, and all (more or less) hard rock, just before it turned heavy. They've all been FoamFeatured™ antecedently, hence the "sampler" designation. Beaucoup of energy, harmonies, and that tensile guitar tone. A couple of softer tracks to break it up a little.

Sleeve design embodies zen-like simplicity, elegance. Title references lifechanging CBS comp Fill Your Head With Rock.

 

Uniquely for a 30 Minute Audio Initiative, it tells you right there on the cover who you can expect to hear. If any of it makes you want to follow up a band, which is the point of samplers, let me know. I'll leave you to supply details in the comments!

 

This post created by a continuous and very seasonal rainstorm that kept everyone indoors.

TL-DR Dept. - History Is Collapsing

Remember the "No Kings" marches? Seems like a lifetime ago. Those were the days, right? A wool hat, a thermos, a hand-painted sign. Remember how releasing the Epstein Files was going to bring the whole power structure down? The Epstein Files?

The Epstein business has effectively disappeared into the black hole of history, along with the Panama Papers, the Kennedy assassination, and all the other events for which we were not in the need-to-know category. Trump was right when he reacted with "are we still talking about Epstein?" Right in the sense that for most people, it's no longer of any interest. It's in the past, what's done is done. The chances that any of Epstein's friends - and we know who they are - will ever have to answer for anything at all is not even remote. Maxwell is in a government-funded Extended Vacation Facility, and that's good enough. Justice has been done. End of.

Ice squads patrolling the streets, abducting citizens, throwing little kids into cages. Shooting anybody they feel like. Yeah, well, these things happen. Whatcha gonna do? There's always the mid-terms.

Everything is a distraction. Not just Trump's Vanity War. History is collapsing around us as the world burns. We have other things to think about.

Whatcha gonna do?

TV's Reg Varney Reviews Latest Jazz-Rock LP! Dept.

Foam-O-Graph© - "Making Your World - Make Sense!"

 

You'll know cheeky diminutive funnyman Reg Varney [above - Ed.] from TV's long-running series Blimey! You Can See Her Knickers! but did you know he's something of a jazzrock authority? [I'm guessing not Ed.] That's right, music enthusiasts! Reg kept the great cow-faced British public happy thru the war years [up to '69, then - Ed.] with his cheery chuckle and lecherous eye for the ladies, so he seemed the obvious choice to review Mrs. Santana's new jazzrock waxing! Take it away, Reginald!

And a big hi-de-hi-de-ho to all you jazzrock fans out there! Ding ding! Room for more inside! Farq lent me this new LP by Cindy Blackman Santana to review. Apparently hubby Carlos gave her permission to make her own record, and I'm all for the little ladies being allowed their time outdoors. It's the times, innit? The more bras burned the better, say I! Phwoar! But on a serious note, Mrs. Santana plays the drums, and I'm sure even the most feminine feminists would agree with me that this is a man's job! We men are built stronger in the muscles and frankly have you ever known a dolly bird be on time? (laughs) So all credit to her for trying, say I, but don't forget hubby's dinner needs to be on the table!

What's the record like, then? Well, in all honesty like, I ain't played it. I'm a bit put off by the Blackman thing to be honest - what's that about? And like I say, a girlie playin' the drums goes against common sense! Do me a favour! They'll be drivin' the buses next! Ding ding! Fares please! (cackles)

Thank you, Reginald! Th' Four Or Five Guys© may have noticed [again, my guess is not - Ed.] I have substituted my own cover design for the original, which made my brain hurt. Here it is:

 

This looks like ... nope, I give up. It defies coherent thought and rational analysis. It makes the cover for Foreign Tongues look strangely beautiful. What has she got on her feet? Elf sneakers? What are her legs doing and where are they going? It looks like her image has been cut out with safety scissors in a school project for blind children. The phrase what the actual freaking fuck seems applicable. Here's my replacement, suitable for framing:

 

 

Anyway, as on previous Mrs. Santana albums, hubby Carlos and barbecue buddy John McLaughlin contribute fretwork, and they're the least interesting tracks on the album. Only occasionally during the over-long running time do I yell stop playing the goddamn drums already! and it's a very creditable outing in The Genre That Refuses To Die. Download in the comfort of your own home as the world burns.

 

This post inspired by a thwarted desire to charitably reassess Mr. Varney's elusive genius. I was right first time.