Covered in Punk

A soon-to-be regular post featuring great punk rock cover versions. This one was found on YouTube:
The Rivals - Here Comes the Night
Originally released by Lulu & The Luvvers, and later by Them, among others. This tune is perfect for such a punky new wave overhaul, and is a joy to listen to!


...more about the band here.

Erazerhead

While the description "an English version of the Ramones" can be applied to many (if not all) of the UK punk groups that sprung up in the late seventies, none are quite so befitting of the label than Erazerhead, an east-end band of rock 'n' rollers who released seven singles and two albums, yet remain relatively obscure. As an 80's band playing straight-up three-chord noise-pop, with their roots clearly in the cartoony side of the CBGB scene, and the 50s rock 'n' roll that fed into it, it's easy to see why they didn't achieve much success. By this time such simplistic noisy pop was somewhat passe, with only a hardcore punk fanbase still interested. Three chords had been done to death, and audiences wanted something more intelligent, like the burgeoning post-punk scene. Only purist punk rockers would have taken notice, as the pop world around them began to rebuild itself. Music was judged in a very different light in the post punk period, and demands were made on it of authenticity, credibility and originality. Bands now needed to prove themselves by creating music that brought something new to the table. The Rezillos, for example, who wore their schlock sci-fi influences on their sleeves nonetheless had a fresh sound and character that was all their own. The same can not really be said of Erazerhead, whose sub-ramones output, by this time rather dated, made only minor dents in the indie charts.

Even basic punk rock had moved on to some extent, getting harder-edged, heavier, or politically charged. Erazerhead were a band out of time. Had they been active about three years earlier, they would probably have done quite well, and been memorable and mentionable in the same breath as The Vibrators and The Lurkers. As it was though, they just didn't fit in. Their closest contemporaries were probably the bands that made up the Psychobilly scene. The back-to-basics (some might say retrograde) sensibilities, and B-movie obsessions of such sped-up rockabilly bands as The Meteors and The Guana Bats are similar to those of Erazerhead. Indeed, the band played at least one show at the famous Klub Foot, and their art-work and lyrics fit nicely with the horror-movie fandom of the scene.

All this negativity however can not detract from the fact that their Best of... compilation, released by those good chaps at Captain Oi!, is simply a damn good listening experience of good old fashioned fun-time rock 'n' roll. They may just be a cockney Ramones, but when all's said and done, they make a mighty fine racket of balls-to-the-wall punk rock, that deserves to be played at full volume while you pogo 'til your knees bleed. Punk rock losers maybe, but then wasn't that the point? The important thing is, like so many of their contemporaries, these guys got together and did it themselves; they formed a band and threw themselves headlong into providing fans with good-time, get-pissed-and-party anthems. And for that they deserve praise indeed. All together now..."Rock, rock, rock 'n' roll zombie... I wanna be a rock 'n' roll zombie!"
Check 'em out now at:
http://www.erazerhead.co.uk/
Track picks: Werewolf, She Can Dance, Shell Shock, Moscow, Do the Geek, Rock 'n' Roll Zombie.
You can hear none of these songs, but many perfectly decent others at a myspace page dedicated to them here.

Zombie Girl

My love of all things Zombie, and my particular adoration for Romero's unparalleled Living Dead Trilogy inspired me to get off my arse and make this Zombie Girl screen print, based on the iconic poster for Night of the Living Dead...
based on a flipped image of the classic poster

Dead Living

...this video from Youtube represents the sort of direction i want to take this blog... all discordant punk rock nastiness and gory flesh-munching mayhem! Enjoy!




Coming soon - a review of recent schlock zombie horror Dead Snow... stay tuned.

John Wyndham

The Midwich Cuckoos is the fourth in a series of sophisticated science fiction novels by the great John Wyndham, which also includes such hailed classics as Day of the Triffids and The Kraken Awakes. Cuckoos, a very English sci-fi, is a gripping, thought-provoking page-turner in which an entire village is temporarily knocked-out, its inhabitants succumbing to a deep sleep, awaking to find itself very much changed. Or rather, awaking slightly confused but generally okay, only to discover several months later that whatever it was that caused the blackout also managed to make every woman in the village pregnant. This unknown, unseen force has struck at society's most cherished and vulnerable asset, its children. Child-based horror is always disturbing, and plays on our greatest fears. Not only, in a very natural, instinctual way, do we hope to protect our young, our precious offspring from the danger and horrors of the world, but in a very modern sense we fear the untamed, amoral potential of a youth gone wild. Wyndham very cleverly explores both fears, finding the sensitive nerve and twisting it, as motherly devotion and species paranoia clash. The hope for a rational solution is threatened as the unexpected and inexplicable challenges mankind's assumed superiority and claim to the earth. Cuckoos is a remarkably philosophical book. As fear and paranoia slowly infiltrate this cosy community, the hero, like many of Wyndham's lead characters, intends to reason his way out of the problem. In many ways this forces us to face some rather unsettling truths about who we think we are, as a species, how we treat 'lower' creatures and what we can expect from a race that seeks to replace us. It also brings to light, in a very frightening way, the lack of global trust or community, as power-hungry nations squabble for command of an otherworldly power they naively believe they can control. The Midwich Cuckoos is one of the most intelligent and exciting horror stories, all the more chilling for the almost detached indifference and certainty of its quiet menace.
(The Simpsons famously pays tribute to the book, and its film version Village of the Damned, with The Bloodening!)

Red Tornado

(Not especially trashy this, unless you're one of those high-brow killjoys who still looks down on comics despite it being an entirely acceptable entertainment medium in Japan and even though respected,'real writers' have written stories, with Ian Rankin's recent contribution and Neil Gaiman's having started his career in the industry. Not to mention the fact that Watchmen is considered one of the great modern novels. I guess comics are still considered low-brow and childish by most, especially in Britain, and superhero comics in particular. Still this is pretty mainstream seeing as it is a DC title...anyway with that said let's get on with the review.)

With the recent release of a new Red Tornado mini-series, now seems as good a time as any to take a look back at the android hero’s past incarnations. Well… there haven’t been many. In fact, along with appearing for a number of years as a painfully underwritten second-stringer in the Justice League, Red Tornado has only once before had his own title. A four part mini-series was released in 1985, in the aftermath of the Crisis on Infinite Earths, DC’s massive cross-over sensation which shook up continuity. This event was an attempt to clear the deck, to start afresh and ultimately attract new readers, who were being scared away by convoluted background stories, and the daunting hardcore knowledge needed to understand what was going on. This event is a milestone in the DC Universe and remains a great read even today. In fact the success of the event is perhaps responsible for the crisis-mania which has swept DC ever since, in which, ever-more devastating events threaten the universe, requiring every character to get involved and redefine their allegiances to good or evil. This crisis-ad-nauseam seems to happen ever year, from the disappointing and yawnsome to the downright incomprehensible. This is, perhaps ironically, to the detriment of the original Crisis’ good intentions; the Universe is an increasingly complicated place again, putting off new and regular readers alike.

Anyway, back to the Red Tornado. His 80s mini-series, written by Busiek, with art by Infantino, is certainly not among the worst of post-crisis character relaunches. Actually it is quite an entertaining read, in which Busiek does an admirable job at bringing together Tornado’s back story and introducing personal conflicts that must be overcome. The comic reads like DC’s attempt at a Silver Surfer type story. A sentient being, outcast by the society he tries to help, questions his place in the world. The story draws on themes of identity and belonging, and at a push can be read as a typical slice of social, perhaps racial commentary. The alienated android, Red Tornado, is feared by humanity. In classic small-minded human tradition this soon turns to hatred for what they can’t understand. Taking note of this all-too-human tendency, as well as Red Tornado’s insecurity about his place in the world, The Construct, the villain of the piece, plans to take full advantage and over throw mankind, initiating the apocalyptic ‘age of the machine’. The floaty mind substance that is The Construct has the enviable ability to take control of machines and human minds, leading them army-like to do his bidding. The Justice League, that is, among others the strongest man on earth, the world’s greatest detective, and a woman who apparently failed IT at school, prove utterly useless against this new menace (in fact it’s a little worrying just how easily they fall under his spell), leaving only Red Tornado impervious to his mind games. Weakened by doubt and fed up with the way he’s treated, old Reddy picks one hell of a bad moment to give up on humanity all together.

The fear of technology is well depicted in this comic, as is the frailty of the modern world and its reliance on machines. The story plays on our fears of a challenge to our lazy indulgences, highlighting the modern world’s inertia and over dependence on the comforts of technology. There are some good scenes as well, including one a little reminiscent of the Bodysnatchers, where Kathy finds herself all alone in the world, fleeing from a crowd of brainwashed townsfolk, as well as having to avoid all types of machinery. She ends up hopelessly stranded, fighting for mental independence.

Red Tornado is an appealing, sympathetic character, one which certainly has tremendous potential. He should be a major player in the DC Universe. He is refreshingly conflicted and insecure. Ironically this super-powered robot with weather-related abilities has characteristics that are much more down to earth than the arrogant sure-footedness of many of the muscle-bound heroes. I say ‘should be a major player’; he isn’t, and Buseik’s attempt ultimately falls a little flat. It’s an entertaining read and there are some good ideas in it, but it’s also painfully predictable. The support characters, Kathy and Traya are underdeveloped and at times annoying, so it becomes hard to care about Red Tornado’s plight. His civilian alias, John Smith, a non-descript dull persona which he has obviously chosen in an attempt to be accepted, is perhaps too boring, so its difficult to care too much when he decides to give it up. Artistically, the data file panals are a neat idea, as we access the hero’s past as if flicking through a computer programme. And Infantino’s striking covers are cololurful and a joy to behold. But ultimately the premise seems old-hat and a little shaky, and despite some interesting themes it remains somewhat superficial. There’s an overall confusion as to what it is that makes us human; the distinction between humanity and machine is unclear, undermining the very tenants on which the conflict balances. In the end it’s like watching DC failing to pull off an idea Marvel excelled at in the ‘60s.

ReVolting

For aficionados of that snotty late 70's sound favoured by such bands as the aforementioned Snivelling Shits, The Nipple Erectors and of course Raped, this Psykik Volts' compilation from Damaged Goods Records is a must. 12 tracks of grotty, phlegm-drenched punkitude, complete with chugging, raw guitar and twiddly demented nursery-rhyme riffs, hyperactive drumming and sneering, sickly vocals. This musical cacophony will restore your faith in all things loud and filthy. The opening track, Horror Stories No.5, is worth the asking price alone. It's a glorious slice of raucous new wave and is an utter joy to behold. It opens all heavy breaths and evil cackles and then kicks in with that well-known spooky blues riff, a garage-rock staple that can be heard in The Sonics' Strychnine, and traced back to at least as early as Bessie Smith's Blue Spirit Blues. From there it descends helter-skleter into a freakish circus ditty of exhilarating punk noise, wild and dizzying. This is music that makes you want to down several scrumpies, pull on your day-glo socks and throw yourself about, arms flailing like an electrocuted spastic. In a similar vain is the excellently titled Totally Useless, a should-be classic of self-loathing and paranoia, which thumps along nicely and includes the awesome lyric "wandering round the supermarket, wondering what went wrong", its message of fatalistic futility pinned precariously to a bastardized rendition of Hall of the Mountain King. The rest of the album rarely lets up, and rockets on, occasionally becoming cleaner, more poppy in sound but never losing it's spirit. From a Lover to a Friend, recorded in 1997 (by Victor Vendetta, and unrelated to the original band) is a break from the ramma-lamma noise rock. Instead an almost tender harpsichord opening leads to near orchestral majesty akin to a budget version of an early Muse demo, complete with distorted, melancholic vocals and haunting Suspiria-style piano. One slight gripe with the CD is the sheer lack of band information. We're told some of the tracks have been re-mastered and even re-recorded, but rather annoyingly not which and to what extent. This is particularly annoying for collectors of this music, where authenticity is important and for whom reading the testimonials of various punk also-rans holds a certain pleasure. This aside, as a document of the era which championed passion and amateurism, Psykik Volts' Re-Volting is indispensable, and an utter thrill.