"What?! ANOTHER ONE MAN BAND?! Throw it over there. Watch out for the dead cat that guy keeps swinging around though"...or so I thought. Every town has it's one man band these days. Some more unbridled than others, some with nicer voices, some just total loons...then there's the ones that are too outside even for the apparent outsiders to grasp. When the sun goes down THOSE will be the ones people will do archeology digs on.
I dunno what it was that tempted me to give this a chance. I've spent a lot of time giving my ear to one man band's and it's cool-n-all but the slew of them the past few years has given me a fill for the next decade. Could it have been that it arrived on my doorstep unsolicited & not having an inkling of what it was about (I get CD's like that on a regular basis but hardly ever LP's)? Google searches commenced before I even took it into the room where the record player awaits. Not much to be found there at the time (but things have the changed the past few months since I first got this). Could it have been that it was two records and a bunch of paper paraphernalia jammed into a plan white LP jacket with pasted on covers. When the music started it almost seemed like this wasn't on vinyl because it was a cool thing to do but because maybe not many CD players ever made it into his neck of the woods (It could happen...there can't be Walmart's and Best Buys within a 45 mile drive of everywhere in the continental US...can there?) cuz Sears stop sending out it's mail order catalogs though it did come along for enough years for an old Silvertone to fall into the guy's hands. A sheet pulled off an old tin roof propped up against a wood saw horse with a makeshift ball peen hammer bass pedal provides a splatter-crash beat. A shoebox guitar in the middle of a pile of scuzz getting manic wiggly. A caterwaul bawl raising cain on top of it all. Side one starts out as a one mic and tape looped dirt encrusted freak blues chicken coop social including "Boogie '06", a T. Rex "Buick MacKane" (one of a few Marc Bolan nods on this rec actually) meets Bukka White meets a cement mixer....then things start getting really, really weird. Recordings from 1998 to 2003, with bands ranging from the Celtic Frost, Charlie Feathers and Grandmaster Flash to Link Wray, Electric Wizard and King Tubby cited as influences in one of the pages included, creaky beatboxes battle with backwoods bottlenecked burst and suicide drones officiate over a breakfast of cornbread, heavy cream and sausage. Incidental sounds of shotguns, chickens, washing machines and powerdrills add to the ambiance. Whenever someone I haven't seen it a bit stops by and asks me to play 'em something that I think they need to hear-this has been one of my first choices. At times they may look a little disoriented when listening but always ask them to make them a copy. In most case I'd suggest a place where they could score one of their own but this collection had a run of 235. I don't wanna hoard the sounds going on here for just a privileged few. This is the sound of the people. Junkpile Jimmy is the most convincing "Modern day Hasil Adkins" we may ever hear. I sure hope to hell the guy isn't a stockbroker or some shit like that in real life.