A bitter, nasty little song from Supergroove, a NZ funk band better known for far more "cheerful" fare. They put out a EP called Tractor many years ago, full of twisted ditties which explore various aspects of isolation, disenfranchisement and the gnawing maw of depression. Its very rare, this EP, and almost impossible to find. I am lucky I have a copy. Bought it back when it was released, I was really young. Anyway, Scone Farm. One of the darkest slices of raw funk you'll ever hear. Scratchy guitars, walloping bass, nasty brass, yelling about being "skullfucked". And Jesus H. Christ, the drums on this track sound MONSTROUS. I LOVE IT. "Welcome to the factory, I wanna smash its skull."
Here's a link to another Supergroove song, the best audio quality of a Supergroove song I could find on youtube. Features co-vocalist Che Ness (now known as Che Fu), one of the best singers to come out of NZ, in my opinion. I link this to you for the purposes of displaying a different side of this band. You might recall my cousin whinging about what Che has become, in her guest Randomitronica post from a while ago.
I understand there is also a funk band called Supergroove from Brazil. Is that correct?
With all the hubris and hollow back-patting of the Grammys upon us I think its high time for another post that focuses on music. So with that in mind, welcome to part deux of New Zealand Songs of Fucking Angst. This time around we have a lovely track from Wellington band Shihad, who were once very good.
Shihad: Derail
This is a song from Shihad's 1993 album Churn, which is quite frankly a flat-out monster of an album. It was the first album for the band (their only prior release being the 4 song speed metal EP Devolve) and is permeated with various themes; that of isolation, of being trapped within the machinations of modern society, and of the dehumanization that has come about due to the state of modern life. its a very reactionary record, that rips and gouges with cold steel pincers at the rotting underbelly of human existence and the lies that fuel our lives.
Not that I wish to paint this album as being all about doom and gloom, verily there are glimmers of hope that shine through the crushing derision inherent within this album. Like a flower growing up through a crack in concrete, to use a hackneyed simile.
But what I love about this album the most, aside from the music, is it completely uncompromising and bilious attitude towards the piss-poor state of the falsities humans have built up around life; the perfidiousness of the media, the consumer-driven materialism and the uncompassionate "me first" human extrapolation of the apophthegmatic "survival of the fittest" that is so ubiquitous in the collective mindset of humankind. To name but a few issues explored on this album.
In other words, an album that the likes of I can certainly get behind.
Here's track 7 from the album, unedited and presented in its full glorious entirety, the mighty Derail.
I'm putting this song up online as a public service really, as the only way to listen to this song online otherwise is to watch the official video clip on youtube, which has poor audio, poor picture quality and has been edited so the entire middle 8 of the song is not included. Hopefully me putting it up here is OK with the karma of the world.
As an added bonus, here are the lyrics to the song:
Abrasive to the touch. All in all in all the same thing now. We are gathered here in nonesuch. Hooks back to the line. And I trip over myself here and I trip over myself. Something's stuck in me here and I can't get out.
Some in paint. Some in blood. Some in makeup. Derail me.
To everything - churn, churn, churn There is a season - churn, churn, churn There is a reason - churn, churn, churn This ain't the time or the place.
I am sick of walking into rainbows. I am sick of plugging into rainbows. I am sick of tuning into rainbows. I am sick of turning into rainbows.
If you enjoyed that wee ditty I urge you to track down a copy of the album, its definitely well worth it.
Ladies and gents, I would like to play a video clip for you.
Its a song about meat. Or, more specifically, the processing of meat. It was written by a band named Skeptics (or The Skeptics), who formed in 1979 in Palmerston North, New Zealand. The song featured here is entitled AFFCO, which is an acronym for Auckland Farmers Freezing Company Ltd. Here is a brief description of the company AFFCO, taken from their official website: "AFFCO is one of New Zealand's leading food companies, having operated in this competitive and innovative sector of New Zealand’s primary sector since 1904. AFFCO processes and exports more than 150,000 tonnes of meat products and by products every year and is a major earner of foreign exchange earnings for the country."
I shall warn you now, it is a video that depicts, in a very graphic way, what goes on every day in a meat processing plant. The video itself has stirred up quite a lot of controversy over the years, but its worth noting that the band (and film makers) are not making a case for animal rights here, nor are they celebrating the killing of animals for human consumption. This is a song about people who "pack meat", and thus the video clip and the song itself are merely a reflection of the band's impartial stance on this issue. Plus it features lead singer David d'Ath (who died of leukaemia on the 4th of September 1990) wrapped in glad wrap and covered in baby oil and food colouring. That's got to be good for you all to see.
The song to my ears is a wonderful thing. I love the graunchy, stuttering and propulsory nature of this tune. The scuzzy, buzzing guitars, the clunky bass, the barked vocals and the claudicant drums all combine to make a rather selcouth aural experience. Especially for New Zealand in 1987. It comes from the excellent album Skeptics III, which is well worth checking out. If you can find it, aahahahaa. I have it on one of my hard drives in mp4 format.
What interests me is the sheer amount of public umbrage that has been stirred up over the years over this clip. Sure, some portions of it are by no means pleasant to watch, but this is what happens in an abattoir. I'm not going to sit here and judge anyone if they happen to enjoy eating meat, or if they are vehemently opposed to the practise. That's their business. What I do find rather ridiculous though are people who eat meat and yet get all upset when shown how the meat gets to their table. The picture below that I've slapped together is a fine representation of the process, but notice how it misses a very important step, which is how the meat goes from animal to that fancy shit people pay too much money for at restaurants.
OK, so that's not sheep meat he's eating there, but you get the idea. He looks like a putz anyway.
I myself also have a very nonpartisan viewpoint on the issue of animal processing for human consumption. This post is merely about the song and its video clip. Hopefully I have come across as neither for or against this particular practice. Whatever views you may personally hold on this issue are none of my concern, and I'm certainly not here to judge either way.
You can read more about how the video was conceived and made by clicking here to read an account of the video's production by the guy who initiated, directed, shot, and edited it. A well written mini-history of the Skeptics can be found here.
Welcome to the first installment of New Zealand Songs of F*cking Angst, a short series of blog posts that I will be doing intermittently over coming months, focusing on a selection of songs by New Zealand bands, songs which feature a healthy dose of good old fashioned drama and turmoil. I'm dedicating this post to ZombieHamster, because I told him I would. So, first up in the series:
Headless Chickens: Gaskrankinstation
For those of you not familiar with the band Headless Chickens, here's a brief rundown. Headless chickens started out in 1986, formed by ex- Children's Hour Members Chris Matthews (vocals & guitar) and Johnny Pierce (bass) plus a fellow named Michael Lawry. They put out a self titled mini-album with this lineup full of their soon to be trademark strange sounds and dark humour, then Johnny took his own life. Grant Fell (the other Children's Hour guitarist) had just returned to NZ from Australia, and during this sad time joined HC as bassist. Ex-Children's Hour drummer Bevan Sweeny also joined up as their drummer around this time.
This lineup released the album Stunt Clown in 1988, after which co-vocalist Fiona McDonald joined the band. They then released the seminal 1991 album Body Blow, which both of the tracks featured in this post are taken from, and which is in my opinion one of the finest albums to come out of New Zealand. You can find out more about the band by starting here, if you so desire.
And thus, the mighty Gaskrankinstation:
Click here to see a fullscreen version of the clip.
Now, this brand of angst is far removed from the whiney dross that started appearing in popular music after the early nineties "grunge revolution" changed the zeitgeist of music culture, nor is it the limp wristed misery posturing of today's "emo" bands. No, this is the sound of sheer choking proletarian desperation, which cuts right down to the bone, wrenches the soul, and genuinely means something. Listen to that sweeping, exhilarating guitar solo & the middle 8 that follows. That's pure soul right there guys. This is raw social commentary. This is something that matters. I fucking love this song with every fiber of my being. Ivan's tale of frustrated, impotent rage here is a testament to how life itself can very easily eat you up whole, or in Ivan's case, life is content to just chew him up over the course of 20+ years. Its a fucking bitter place to dwell, in the unrelenting maw of life's indifference.
Look at how much smaller than everyone else Fiona is.
But don't go getting the impression that Headless Chickens were just some one dimensional monger of nasty. Here's another side to the band, the gorgeous, shimmering and haunting song Juice.
This song... I've listened to this song hundreds of times over the years, and it never fails to put a big lump in my throat and a feeling of wonder in my jaded wee heart. And that's really saying something about how awesome I think it is. If you change the lyrics from "back in '77" to "back in '97", well, its pretty much me all over. This song also features one of the creepiest little middle 8's you'll ever hear.
SO, in summation. Headless Chickens. A band well ahead of its time (without HC there would be no Garbage, or many of the bands of that ilk which followed in the wake of Garbage's popularity). A band capable of being both scathingly vicious and hauntingly beautiful. For all the things that this band was (and now is, as they reformed recently), they were always innovative, sincere (even at their most sarcastic), and never ever dull.
Randomitronica — what's it all about then, eh?
One of the largest cogs of The Vortex Machines, Randomitronica ran from May 8th 2009 until July 15th 2010, and was written in the "voice" of Chloé Kovac, one of the main characters in Maxwell Vex's Agents of the Endtimes webcomic (which can be found here).
Randomitronica contains a bunch of opinions, reviews, interviews, general musings on various topics that Chloé found of interest, and probably more than a handful of now-defunct hyperlinks.
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