Om On The Range

The latest entry in our overwhelmingly popular "how to lose the love beads" series features the superbly-named Daily Flash. Don't you wish you'd had a band called the Daily Flash? I asked my good friend Mike Stax [Ugly Things Magazine - Ed.] about the band when he dropped by Th' House O'Foam© to pick up some, uh, Trini Lopez memorabilia. "Look 'em up on Wiki, doofus," he snarled as he loaded the Pelican case into the back of his Hummer. It's swell advice, and I unhesitatingly pass it on to you. Th' Flash were another of our Support Act Sensations©, touring big-time and opening for just about every tentpole act on the Left Coast. So why no album? They didn't write their own material, is why, since you're asking. What recordings they made were eventually scraped together by those impish scamps at Psycho Records [previously at FMF© - Ed.] in the mid 'eighties, who anted up for a lavish two-color cover (not this one here) on stock slightly weightier than baking paper. Those guys!

Reeling from the non-dawning of The Age Of Aquarius©, the band split, and two of them formed the country-rock combo Bodine, who cut a grand record for MGM in '69, replacing the perfume of incense with the authentic reek of the barnyard. The Daily Flash reformed sometime this century, and they have a website and all that stuff, so you should totally schlep on over there and buy their shit.