POCKETS FULL OF BLOOD

Gong was formed in 1967 by Daevid Allen and his girlfriend, Gilli Smyth (AKA Shakti Yoni), soon after Allen left the Soft Machine. They put out five albums with a constantly evolving lineup up until they both left the group in 1975. Gong continued on without them but sucked balls. Since then, both Allen and Smyth (sometime together, sometime separately) have worked with a number of bands using the Gong moniker in some form or another - Mother Gong, Acid Mother Gong, Gongmaison, NY Gong, you'N'gong. In 1977, Allen and Smyth joined up with a UK free-festival band called Here & Now to form Planet Gong. They recorded a live concert in Toulouse, France and released it the following year as Floating Anarchy,. The album contained all the weirdness you'd expect from a Gong album (Allen's whimsical chanting, Smyth's over-the-top space shrieking) with some of the best psych-punk shredding I've ever heard (think Hawkwind at the top of their game). Legend has it that while the band performed, there was a riot going on outside the gates when 3,000+ aggro hippies couldn't get into the sold-out festival. This shit rips but you don't have to take my word for it. Download it here.


This gets majorly heavy if you can make it to the end.

NO MORE BOREDOM

You never heard of Feederz? Well listen up, punk! Not many "punk" bands have had much of an impact on me since I was a wee teen, but hearing these guys for the first time was a definite game changer.

Feederz formed in Arizona in 1977 and released one EP before their singer, Frank Discussion, was forced to flee to San Francisco for distributing anti-school literature in Arizona High Schools. He reformed the band in 1984 with Mark Roderick and D.H. Peligro. Frank was known for his outrageous shock tactics, such as firing blanks at the audience and appearing on stage with live crickets and bloody tampons glued to his face. The group was even banned from Gilman for throwing roadkill at the audience!

Feederz' first full-length, Ever Feel Like Killing Your Boss?, is a fucking masterpiece. They somehow manage to be catchy, snotty and abrasive in the same breath. And their lyrics are guaranteed to send poseurs running for the hills. Take their hit, "Jesus," for instance: "Jesus entering from the rear, fucking you in the ass. Just another faggot in just another mass." Something to offend everyone! Ever Feel... also includes an Olivia Newton-John cover ("Have You Never Been Mellow") and the original vinyl comes with grip tape on the cover so it thrashes your other records. Punk!



Go fuck yourself here.

Something's Wrong With Bloggers

Remember "freak folk?" Seemed pretty cool at the time until we realized that the best the scene had to offer were Devendra Banhart and Johanna Newsom. But there was one band that seemed to slip under the radar. Vermont's Feathers pulled from not only the best vintage avant-folk (think Comus and the Incredible String Band) but psychedelic rock and raga as well, giving them a truly "freaky" and chillingly beautiful sound. Their eight member lineup included Kyle Thomas and Asa Irons who went on to form Witch. (I personally think Feathers are better than Witch) They released one self-titled album (it rules) on Gnomonsong which can easily be found at your local record store but they also self-released a tour-only CDR called "Something's Wrong With Feathers." You're only gonna find this one on the world wide web so get it here now.

BEAT ME BITE ME WHIP ME

Here it is- the holy grail of punk rock. Thirty-four tracks is just over 30 minutes. Sloppy, stupid, offensive and perfect in almost every way. When I was 15, this album changed ruined my life.

A Day Late and a Dollar Short is not so much a proper album as a compilation of seven inch material from the first decade or so of their career. If you're familiar with their other albums, don't fret. This isn't the same old mediocre Beach-Boys-meets-Ramones swill they've been releasing since the mid 90's. This is shitty, boneheaded teen angst done right.



Piss off your parents here.

Insider scoop: word has it there's a Day Late tribute band in the works featuring members of Uzi Rash, Dirty Cupcakes, and Glitter Wizard. Stay tuned for details.

...with an airbrushed pictures of some mountains out back.

Okay kids, time for me to drop some more goodies on y'all:

Imagine you're at a house party, cracking open your first beer and waiting for the band to show up. You've never heard of them and their name sounds kinda corny but they're friends of your friend and he listens to cool music so who knows, they might be good. Some shitty van pulls up in the driveway and a bunch of dudes pile out. They don't look like rockers. They're kinda older and some of them are balding and is that guy wearing sandals? They're setting up and expectations are low but you're already here and the brews are free so might as well stick around for a bit.

Holy shit! These guys actually shred! A lot! Rock the Light is about as sincere and unpretentious as cock rock gets. These dudes lay down some serious shreds and top it off with song titles such as "Hesher in a Half Shirt" and "Hotbox the Car."

And do you know what? I'm gonna grace you with their first album, Let's Do Something We'll Both Regret for free because I'm such a nice guy. And I don't feel bad about it because this band never remembers to bring their merchandise. I've been going to see them every time they come through town (which is almost never) for about eight years and I still haven't been able to get their second album, The Summer We All Got Laid. If any of the dudes from the band are reading this (they're not) I WANT THAT ALBUM. PLEASE.

Do something you won't regret here.

YOUR MOM'S THE BOMB FOR THE VOM

In 1999, the world's best punk band put out their first and only LP and you never heard it. Hailing from Tucson, The Blacks combined hate-fueled hardcore with crazed hillbilly voodoo rhythms that made you wanna dance like a Pentecostal snake handler.

I was lucky enough to catch these guys a few times back in the day and it was one of the craziest live shows I've ever seen. A few days after I last saw them, their singer mysteriously ran off into the wilderness in the middle of tour and died from exposure. Tragic.

Thanks to their old bass player, you can finally get your cyber-hands on a copy of Hate You Like Gold.

Get a taste here and then if you're not a total pussy you'll want the whole thing.