Rev. Charlie Jackson

Lord You're So Good: Live Recordings: Vol.2
50 Miles of Elbow Room [2012]

Gospel music is a bit of a secret obsession of mine, I guess until now perhaps, but I just can't seem to find anyone who really digs into it the way I try to. I constantly scoop up private label gospel 45s and small run major label subsidiary releases in an effort to find that one song that really hits home. I'm not a religious man by any means, but something about the intense belief systems behind the performers of a good soulful gospel group really hits the nail on the head for me. In all my travels I've come across some wonderful stuff, most of which I bury away in my personal collection and break out late at night to ensure a private listen, but I am yet to come across one of the original Rev. Charlie Jackson 45s. Sometime in the 70's the southern evangelist guitarist cut a few records on his imprints "Booker" and "Jackson". I'm almost tempted to drop a few hundred bucks the next time one turns up in auction, but for me the fun really lies in the random, Zen discovery of the records. In other words, I wait for them to come to me. In the meantime, however, there are these fantastic collections on Brooklyn's 50 Miles of Elbow Room label. This one happens to be the second volume in a potential series of three. Some of the tracks found on Vol. 2 are sourced from actual cassettes or 8-tracks that 50 Miles's owner traveled to hunt down and rescue from obscurity. It's the sort of thing every next-level music fan dreams to be a part of: music archiving. This second volume of tracks featuring the Reverend who spread his music from Louisiana to Mississippi for decades before passing away in 2006, contains more of his minimalist reverb blues sound accompanied by moving vocals, subtle choirs/crowd interaction and guest singers (some unknown to this day). The record itself is pressed on high quality RTI vinyl, packaged with a heavy duty Tip-on paste back jacket, brilliant full color insert, and audio that is restored/remastered for an optimal listening experience. Here's another chance to find out how truly gifted the Reverend was.   

-Jeff Ogiba

Spider Bags

"Papa Was A Shithead" b/w "I Wish That I Never Had Fed You"
SOPHOMORE LOUNGE [2012]

Papa's got a brand new shithead spider bag. Well at least that's how my semi-dyslexic brain initially processed the cover of this upcoming two-song burner by Chapel Hill, NC's Spider Bags. That's not a bad thing either…just confusing. The title track/A side, whatever you want to call it, "Papa Was a Shithead" soars in and out of your life in a whopping one minute and twelve seconds. It is, however memorable, catchy, relevant, fast and sludgy; It's all the things the kids want right now and the group just happens to be lead by D.C. Snipers's guitarist/vocalist, Dan McGee. They've been to your town already too, most likely at least. What else? They've offered up a B-side on this particular release just in case you'd rather slow it down and hear "I Wish That I Had Never Fed You", which is obviously the grim tale of a pet sea monkey from Alabama who grew up to be an ungrateful, hurtful bastard. Probably not, but if you're stoned enough, staring at the bottom of a bottle of Jack Daniels, and liked it when Paul Westerberg wrote songs that almost made you cry you'll understand this record completely.  

-Jeff Ogiba

Goosebumps

I Hate My Body EP
BURN BOOKS [2012]

After hearing their debut release, I Hate My Body, Goosebumps's sludge-soaked grind punk will leave you feeling troubled and filthy. With imagery and lyrical content spanning drug abuse, death, transexual prison inmates, and morbidly grotesque mutant orgies, Goosebumps, as individuals and as a group should immediately raise a red flag for most listeners: These dudes are kind of crazy and possibly mildly dangerous. This eight track EP could incite the ghost of G.G. Allin to wreak ungodly havoc on the fantasy landscape of Hieronymus Bosch's The Garden of Earthly Delights while rewiring any listener's brain to believe that immorality and malefactions are the norm. If you like your rock dirty and violent, gets your gloves on this one, but I wouldn't recommend sharing a drinking glass with Goosebumps.  

-Jeff Ogiba

Ariel Pink's Haunted Graffiti

Mature Themes
4AD [2012]

2005 was a strange year, I was an unmotivated barista with a family of mice living in the engine of my Subaru who was slowly falling for a bizarre pop crooner called Ariel Pink. Paw Tracks had begun releasing his formerly CD-R-only albums and as far as I was concerned, he was a musical visionary (this was before I knew who R. Stevie Moore was). In the subsequent seven years my relationship with Ariel has fractured, something about those early days has kept me hanging on. Each new and increasingly underwhelming release (or re-release, sometimes it’s hard to tell) has left me feeling like an Ariel Pink apologist, the terrified and abused housewife of a fading star. I’d babble to myself “Ok, so Loverboy isn’t GREAT, but it’s got two REALLY GOOD SONGS, so, you know…”, wringing my hands and forcing a smile. Thankfully and rather unexpectedly he made one of the best records of 2010 - Before Today sounded fresh and quelled fears that he’d lost whatever magic he had in making a “studio” album. As is the curse with the things you love, that album unknowingly poisoned me with expectation, so when I saw Mature Themes staring at me from across the record store (on my birthday, no less) I should have known better. Not that it’s a bad record, because it’s not. The first three tracks (“Kinski Assassin”, “Is This the Best Spot”, and “Mature Themes”) are great bursts of vintage Pink. However, their hooky synth sameness prepares you for possibly the least diverse record he’s ever made. Perhaps it’s the collaborative aspect of having a “band” now causing some of this banality, I guess it’s pointless to speculate, but I’ve always preferred AP’sHG as a dictatorship. The only other bright spots are the spacey nightclub jam “Symphony of the Nymph”, the depressingly joyous (or vice versa) “Live It Up” (slightly reminiscent of former collaborator John Maus’ current work), and the fluidly Eno-esque “Nostradamus and Me”. Mature Themes’ tendency to meander as often as impress is unfortunate, but hardly surprising. I had a feeling this review might lean toward the personal, mainly because they all do, but also because I’ve been living and dying with this guy a while now. This record seems detached, but oddly enough I don’t care the way I may have in the past. If you’re new to Ariel Pink DON’T start here – go buy the Doldrums and stay up all night playing Grand Theft Auto 3. It may not sound as good but it’ll mean more.  

-Brian Muirhead