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I’ve been immersing myself in the world of 80s North Carolina hardcore for the last few weeks, so it’s time to bust out a post I’ve been thinking about for a long time. As is my duty as a North Carolinian, I am a huge fan of Corrosion of Conformity. I’ll assume you are already familiar with CoC’s legendary first two albums, Eye for an Eye and Animosity… if you aren’t, then you should remedy that ASAP. Today, though, I’m going to write about the CoC tracks that didn’t appear on those albums. CoC, for all their ambition, seemed to have a chaotic way of working, and as a result their studio albums often didn’t contain the definitive versions of their songs. I always heard from old heads that the band was at the height of their powers around 1986, after they had recorded Animosity, but before they brought in Simon Bob Sinister as vocalist for Technocracy. It’s likely they played the definitive versions of many of these songs onstage at the Brewery in Raleigh or in Los Angeles or Oklahoma City or god knows where… CoC toured a lot during that period. Sadly, I wasn’t around to experience that, but I can give you a quick rundown of a couple of CoC’s “lost” studio sessions.

While I want to focus your attention on the non-album tracks recorded by the Animosity lineup of Mike Dean, Reed Mullin, and Woody Weatherman, any discussion of CoC’s non-album tracks would be remiss not to include their earliest recordings, which went to the North Carolina compilations No Core (cassette-only, 1982) and Why Are We Here? (7”, 1983). These recordings capture the band before they landed on their trademark sound and are straightforward hardcore punk with little of the metal influence you hear on Eye for an Eye and Animosity. They’re killer for what they are and every fan of CoC’s hardcore era should be familiar with these tracks. However, only someone who loves 80s US hardcore to the exclusion of all other styles of music would insist these tracks are CoC’s best work.

The next tracks I want to point your attention toward also appeared on compilations, a running theme in this piece. In 1988, a year after Technocracy came out, Caroline released a 12” EP called Six Songs with Mike Singing: 1985. Six Songs compiled CoC’s contributions to 1985’s Thrasher magazine compilation LP, Skate Rock Volume 3: Wild Riders of Boards and the Fartblossom Records compilation Empty Skulls Vol 2: The Wound Deepens, released in 1986. While the information on the back cover of Six Songs with Mike Singing is minimal, it appears CoC recorded all six tracks at the same session, which found the Animosity lineup running through a short set of songs from much earlier in the band’s run. For me, the version of “Eye for an Eye” here tops the album version, the chorus more anthemic despite Mike’s wild vocal style, and “Center of the World” and “Citizen” are far more precise than the embryonic versions that appeared on the No Core tape. “What(?)” and “Negative Outlook” from Eye for an Eye also get the Animosity lineup treatment (one right after the other, just like how they appeared on the original album), but the real surprise is “Not for Me.” “Not for Me” isn’t a CoC song… it was originally performed by the Raleigh hardcore band No Labels, which Reed and Woody played in before the band broke up in 1983. There’s no sign on Six Songs that “Not for Me” isn’t a CoC song, even though No Labels guitarist Ricky Hicks says he wrote both the music and lyrics. Proper accreditation aside, the song is scorching, and fits well with the other stripped-down hardcore songs CoC recorded at this session.

In 1987, CoC released the Technocracy EP, their first and last recording with former Ugly Americans singer Simon Bob Sinister on vocals. After the highs of Eye for an Eye and Animosity, I think the band disappointed some fans with Technocracy, which found Simon Bob struggling to find his way into CoC’s manic and intricate new songs. If people who bought Technocracy when it came out suspected that Simon Bob wasn’t a great fit for these songs, that was confirmed in 1992, when Relativity released an expanded CD version of Technocracy with additional tracks from a studio session in which the Animosity lineup ran through all three of the new songs on Technocracy. (The actual Technocracy EP featured a new version of “Hungry Child” from Animosity, whereas they re-recorded “Intervention” during the session with Mike on vocals.)

For my money, these Technocracy bonus tracks are CoC’s single best studio recording. The band sounds so ridiculously locked in here, abandoning the rigid timing of conventional hardcore in favor of an elastic sound where beats get stretched way out or condensed a la later Black Flag or Bl’ast, the band lunging forward and rearing back like a heaving, unified organism. The songs take on a proggy complexity, frequently shifting tempo and rhythm, but you hardly notice how intricate they are because the band plays them with such grace and power. The instrumental performances on Technocracy are similar, but don’t have the same spark. But while the instrumental performances are comparable, the vocal performances on this earlier session are a stark contrast. It’s clear Mike Dean was meant to sing these songs.

I’m no Simon Bob hater, though. While he seems to have struggled on Technocracy, a “lost” studio session from 1988 shows how the band adapted to his more conventional and melodic style. Mike Dean left CoC in 1987, replaced by Phil Swisher on bass, and this lineup of Reed Mullin / Woody Weatherman / Phil Swisher / Simon Bob recorded at least four songs, only one of which came out officially. “Bound” appeared on the compilation Rat Music for Rat People Vol III, but three others—“Fingers with Teeth,” “The Line of Fire,” and “Teacher”—seem to be available only via unofficial versions on the tape trading circuit. While these tracks still find CoC with a locked-in playing style full of ornate but perfectly executed rhythmic shifts, they’re less metal than the music they had been writing for the past several years. Simon Bob had also found his voice as CoC’s singer, imbuing these songs (particularly “Teacher” and “The Line of Fire”) with big, anthemic choruses. These songs remind me of 80s skate rock, pop songs played with the drive and intensity to fuel an intense skateboarding session. From what I’ve read, CoC had an entire set of similar material, but the four tracks I mentioned above are the only ones I’ve heard recordings of.

After Simon Bob quit the band in 1988, CoC brought in vocalist Karl Agell and rhythm guitarist Pepper Keenan, and this lineup released Blind in 1991. While early demos from the Blind period have moments that remind people of the band’s earlier eras, CoC had more or less completely switched gears. Mike Dean had been the principal songwriter during his time in the band, and the new lineup’s southern rock-influenced metal had little to do with the earlier iterations of the band. I know some people follow CoC into the Blind era and beyond, but I just can’t do it. It sounds like redneck music to me.

If you want to hear the non-album tracks I wrote about here, you have a few options. Six Songs with Mike Singing appears as bonus tracks on CD and digital versions of Eye for an Eye, and the CD and digital versions of Technocracy also feature the sessions with Mike Dean on vocals. If you want these tracks on vinyl, Caroline’s original 1988 12” EP of Six Songs with Mike Singing is your only option for those tracks. While that record has never been repressed, a patient person should be able to find a copy without spending too much money. As for the Technocracy songs with Mike singing, they are on Metal Blade’s latest white vinyl pressing of Technocracy, which is distinguishable from the original version by the cover’s updated color scheme. The original version of Technocracy featured the same music on both sides (why don’t more one-sided records do that?), so the reissue replaces the redundant side with the Mike Dean versions. As for the 1988 demo tracks, those remain unreleased, but you can look them up on YouTube if you want to check them out.

Electric Chair: Act of Aggression 12” (Iron Lung Records) After three phenomenal 7”s, we have the debut 12” from Washington’s Electric Chair. Act of Aggression was recorded nearly two years ago and cassette copies started making the rounds during Electric Chair’s European tour last summer, so many of you won’t be hearing Act of Aggression for the first time when you get the vinyl in your hands. As for me, I took a sneak peek when the record made its way to YouTube a while back, but I’ve been saving myself for the wax to arrive. Now that it’s here, I’ve been playing it over and over, soaking in all this record offers. And even though it’s only about fifteen minutes long, it offers quite a lot! On the first few listens, Act of Aggression reminded me of the first Blood Pressure album in how it takes a band that is already very intense and turns every knob to ten until it feels like there isn’t a cubic centimeter of space remaining. Electric Chair is just wailing on this record, every instrument and the vocals in full-bore assault mode. The record channels Electric Chair’s live sets, which feel like chaotic explosions of energy where anything can happen, where a human body or some other random object might slam into you from any direction. It’s overwhelming at first, and it took a few listens for my ear to make sense of it, but you can listen to what any instrument is doing on any given second of Act of Aggression and find that it is creative, exciting, and awesome. A song like “Security Camera” is almost prog in its complexity, but it’s hardcore punk in its power, precision, and intensity. There’s so much going on that listening can feel like wandering around in the woods blindfolded, and the lack of distinct peaks and valleys contributes to the chaotic feeling… Act of Aggression just keeps coming at you, even ending with a fade-out, which makes it seem like after the engineer stopped recording, the band just kept raging into infinity. Even the vocals are subsumed in the melee… it sounds like they have some sort of effect on them and they’re low in the mix, like the band is playing in a sweaty basement with a shitty PA. It sounds good, but it means you have to look at the insert to get any appreciation for the lyrics, which are excellent, a Darby Crash-esque thoughtful and poetic look at a fucked up world. It’s a great record from a band that feels like it’s at the height of its powers. Given the recording is kind of old and the band has continued to gig since then, I imagine it’s not the last Electric Chair record, but how are they going to top this? That’s a question for another day though, because right now Act of Aggression rules my turntable.

What’s up Sorry State readers, I hope everyone has had a nice week. Today I’d like to talk about biscuits, and not just any biscuits. I’m talking about Mother’s Best biscuits. More specifically, I’m talking about the Mother’s Best Flour show. This is another addition to the long list of things that Dominic has introduced me to. The show was a weekly 15 minute radio broadcast airing at 7:15 AM from 1949 to 1951 in Nashville, Tennessee, which featured the music of Hank Williams and his band. Throughout the show, Hank and the host are pedalling Mother’s Best products, such as flour, self rising cornmeal, and livestock feed, but they’re doing it in such a charismatic way, you don’t even mind. One of the things I love about old country and bluegrass shows is the funny and informal banter in between songs. It just adds a whole other element to it, and this radio show has plenty of that. I also love the short jingle they sing about biscuits every show about three times. It’s been stuck in my head all week. The show usually consisted of about three songs performed by Hank and his band. One thing I really like about it is he would perform some of his bigger hits, but he would also play older country and bluegrass songs from his childhood that he normally wouldn’t play live. There was a CD set released featuring a large collection of the shows, but all of them have been uploaded to youtube, which is what I use to listen to them. I feel like I say this a lot, but listening to one of these shows and having a cup of coffee is a great way to start the day. Maybe you’ll even end up cooking up a mess of Mother’s Best biscuits.

https://youtu.be/csktxveKcQ0

Hi Sorry State fam! How’s it going? Hope all is well on your end. I’m gonna just jump into it!

This week’s pick is the sophomore album from The Whiffs, called Scratch N’ Sniff. The Kansas City power pop band released an album full of really well-done, cool and catchy songs. I gotta get this out of the way first. It comes adorned with a banana scented scratch and sniff sticker! I very lightly “scratched” mine with the side of my finger to preserve the smell because I’m just a nerd like that.

Anyway, on to the music.

This album is so damn likable. It’s so damn listenable and so damn wholesome. But it’s not at all lame. It’s not the style of music I typically reach for, but it’s very hard to not like it. Don’t get me wrong, it rocks, but in a very easy going, feel-good, retro, pop sort of way. It’s one of those albums that I didn’t know I needed.

It’s Not Over is a great opener for what’s to come. The chorus is perfect, and the song is just so damn lovely. I don’t know why this record is provoking me to say damn so many times. I tend to lean on cuss words for emphasis, and this is just not a fuck type of record. Let’s talk about the second track called Shot Thru. Holy Rick Springfield. The intro is giving Jessie’s Girl, which I’m definitely here for. I’m not saying the song sounds like Jessie’s Girl, but it feels like they’re going for that vibe.

The first few songs on the record really pulled me in, but the rest of the album does not disappoint. It’s a cohesive album from top to bottom. Plenty of big choruses and smooth and clean guitar work throughout. The whole album is very hooky and chorus-driven.

The song Won’t Go Away is the perfect example of the retro meets contemporary style of this record. I like that they seem to borrow certain stylistic elements from the 50s through the 80s. It’s very carefully done, as it projects just the right amount of nostalgia without dating themselves.

Overall, Scratch N’ Sniff sounds very polished and thoughtful. It’s a shining example of masterful power pop.

And the sticker! I’m a sucker for the details. Thanks so much for reading!

Until next time.

Thanks,

Angela

Hi and thanks for reading! Today I am writing about friendship, and how important it is. 2020 really changed my social life, and I feel like I haven’t bounced back from it. I have more anxiety than ever, mostly around social interactions. This never used to be a thing for me, and I blame it on the isolation that came during the pandemic. Of course it’s not that simple, though. Friends are so important. True friends will tell you when you are fucking up, but at the same time they will support your decisions, even if they disagree with you. I believe that our friends are our support system. We need to look out for each other 24/7, cos the fucked-up capitalist landscape is definitely not making things any easier on us. I could not have made it to this age without my friends (and punk, which is the same as friends in my mind). It gets old, seeing people hating and talking shit on the internet all the time. What’s the problem... are you jealous? Or is your ego so big that when you disagree with someone, it has to be an argument? Can we not all be different people, with different approaches and ideas, yet still work together to achieve a common goal? A common goal of surviving, causing the least harm as possible. Everyone has “character flaws” and these are traits we should embrace, rather than ridicule. Life is seriously too short for petty shit. Words mean more than you might think, but of course actions speak louder... Cherish your friends and tell them you love them. Show the world your care, indiscriminately. I think it’s OK to fight with each other sometimes. We are only human. But think to yourself next time you get bent outta shape about something, what are you really upset about? Take care of each other, but make sure you take care of yourself. Enjoy YOURSELF. It’s the little things that make this life worth it, I think. Alright, back to work I go. Thanks for reading, my friends. Much love.

Hey guys, what’s up? A happy Saint Patrick’s day to you. As I write, that will be tomorrow, but I’ve been in the proverbial spirit all week long. On Monday Matt and I played an all Irish and Celtic inspired two hours of music for Worldy, which was fun. Check it out if you need a fix of Emerald Isle themed music. During the show I managed to fit in two Thin Lizzy tracks, naturally Whiskey In The Jar was one and with my Lizzy albums out for potential selection I have spent the rest of the week dipping into the records I have by them. I can’t flex and say I have their complete discography, far from it, but I have always liked them, and particularly Phil Lynott. What a dude. I’ll raise a pint in his honor tomorrow.

The rest of my week has been spent here at the store pricing up records. Jeff and I have made a good dent on that big Jazz collection Daniel bought recently and we have lots of cool stuff from other collections that will be hitting our new arrivals bins over the next few weeks. We sent out a little tease yesterday about one slab of wax that I was excited about, the stereo copy of The 13th Floor Elevators’ first album. Very cool. I naturally had to carefully test play it a couple of times for quality control reasons. Lol. It sounds amazing.

Yesterday, my football inflicted misery continued as my Reds were bounced out of Europe. That wasn’t really a shock as the odds were against us, but the prospect of no Champions League football or possibly any European football next season is quite depressing. I’ll have to chat with supporters of other teams and see how they cope because this isn’t something we as Liverpool fans are used to. Ha. I’m fooling around.

Anyway, that all being said, here I am on a Thursday morning and trying to write something for the newsletter with my head swirling with all kinds of emotions and vibrations from the music I have been spinning this week and having a really hard time trying to formulate words interesting enough for you to read. I’d like to wax lyrical about some of these Jazz records we have here, or tell you a great story about the recording of one of Thin Lizzy’s albums or go into a deep dive about how the 13th Floor Elevators records are so good and need to be heard from originals as almost all reissues sound like shit, or tell you that we just got in yet another Heartbreakers record, this time the Yonkers 1976 demos and why it’s worthy of your consideration. Short answer, these recordings feature Richard Hell in the line-up. However unfortunately my brain is mush right now, so my staff pick is going to be a simple instruction this week. Play as much Thin Lizzy as you can. That’s all. I brought in several of my Lizzy records to the store today and Jeff and I will be rocking out to those among other things today as we go about our work. Not a bad soundtrack to have, right? Are you a rocker?

Slainte - Dom

What’s up Sorry Staters?

Maybe it’s cuz Dom’s playing Richard Hell at the store as I’m writing this, but my brain is feeling extra blank at the moment. This week has just kinda breezed by. What even happened? I guess I’ve been nose-deep in mountains of boxes trying to price a bunch of jazz records for all you people. Mailorder has also been nuts, so thanks to all you Sorry Staters for buying up all those Zorn records. Before I know it, St. Patty’s Day is gonna whack me over the head. I’m sure I’ll be diving headfirst into a green beer by this time tomorrow (maybe not haha).

Yeah, I know, there’s been a bunch of cool new records coming through the shop. I’m sure Daniel will be covering it heavily, but I probably should just gush endlessly about how much I love that new Personal Damage LP. Not to mention the new releases on the Sorry State label. There’s tons of cool stuff. But what have I been doing over the last few days this week? Drinking red wine and listening to David Bowie… Typical. Slight change of topic (or is it?)… Funny enough, I stumbled across this YouTube video where this guy is breaking down the structure of the song “All The Young Dudes”. The chorus is strange, but oddly perfect at the same time. The chords kinda change key midway through, flipping from major to minor. And then there’s this oddly timed turnaround to start the chorus over. Anyway, nerd shit.

Now of course, this song has most notably gone down in history for being a classic tune by the Mott The Hoople. But even listening to Ian Hunter singing lead vocal on the track, you can hear Bowie’s DNA all over it. It’s one of those songs where even before I discovered that David Bowie wrote it, I totally knew that David Bowie wrote it haha. It’s so obvious. Being released in 1972, which was around the same time Bowie was in the Hunky Dory/Ziggy Stardust era, “All The Young Dudes” is basically like a cousin to some of his other moody, slower tunes from that period. It’s not too far off from “Oh! You Pretty Things” or “Moonage Daydream.” And it’s such a great song. Such a great song that Mott The Hoople made it the title of the album. And SUCH a great song, in fact, that Bowie must have realized he couldn’t let Mott totally claim ownership of the track. He couldn’t totally let it go, and shiiit, I don’t blame him. What I didn’t realize is that Bowie would perform the song in the early 70s. Sometimes, he’d even do a medley where “Moonage Daydream” would transition into “All The Young Dudes”. And guess what? It rules. I’m sure all the dudes in Mott were like “ooooh shit.” I only discovered the other night while a bit tipsy that there are studio recordings out there of Bowie doing a rendition of the song, even though I don’t think it ever properly appeared on one his albums. No diss to Mott The Hoople, but the song sounds pretty perfect with David at the helm. Not “better” exactly, it’s just kind of an “A-HA!” moment when you first hear it. “Oh, there it is.”

What are ya gonna do? I didn’t kick it in the head when I was 25, but man, I sure do need TV when I’ve got T. Rex. I guess I’m a dude, dad. Enough already. That’s all I’ve got this week. As always, thanks for reading.

‘Til next week,

-Jeff

The Only Ones: The Only Ones LP (1978, CBS Records)

There’s nothing like striking something from your want list by finding it in the wild. I’ve had the Only Ones’ first self-titled album on my want list for years, watching copies pop up infrequently, usually overseas, and always for inflated prices. After stalking the record for years I knew what I was looking at when I found a copy, and when the momentcame, I knew what was happening and ripped Excalibur from the stone… carpe’d motherfucking diem, if you know what I mean. Ridiculous analogies, I know, but I was pretty darn excited when I found this record.

I love the Only Ones. I think I first heard “Another Girl, Another Planet” on the Rhino compilation No Thanks! The ‘70s Punk Rebellion. That compilation is perhaps the best survey of 70s punk you’ll find, and over the years I’ve bought the album or single for just about every one of the 100 tracks on it. However, even among such heavy company, “Another Girl, Another Planet” stood out. It’s one of the best power-pop songs ever. If you don’t agree, then it’s clear we have radically different ideas of what comprises a great pop tune. My love for the Only Ones deepened when I picked up a copy of their second album, Even Serpents Shine, at Vinyl Conflict many moons ago. That album knocked me out, and it’s one of those rare records that I first heard in my late 30s, but I listened to enough to learn every nook and cranny of it. If you ever come across a copy of that one pick it up, as it’s usually cheap.

Neither Even Serpents Shine nor this first, self-titled Only Ones albums ever got released in the States during the band’s heyday… instead, we got Special View, one of those mongrel collections of British bands’ material repackaged for the American market. Compiling songs from the first two Only Ones albums, I suppose there’s nothing wrong with Special View, but it never clicked with me… I could just tell this wasn’t how we were supposed to be listening to these songs, and just like when you hear the original UK track listing of the Clash’s first album, everything makes a lot more sense when you hear these songs in their original context, including the bits that some suit or another decided weren’t good enough for American ears.

Reading up on this self-titled album to prepare for writing this staff pick, I didn’t see too many kind words for it. People’s criticisms fall into two camps. There are the folks who dismiss the album because none of the other songs are as good as “Another Girl, Another Planet.” Fair enough, I suppose, as I’m sure an album full of pop bangers of that caliber would have been something to behold. But taking the album on its own terms, I like how it starts with its two most accessible songs, “The Whole of the Law” and “Another Girl, Another Planet,” then writhes around in this druggy, dream-like space for the rest of its running time. It seems appropriate given the lyrical subjects. The other criticism I see of this album is that it’s not punk, to which I reply… “so what?” Did the Only Ones ever present themselves as punks? “Another Girl, Another Planet” appeals to a lot of punks, but beyond that, I’m not sure where that expectation arises, other than from the time and place in which the Only Ones were making music. Only Ones drummer Mike Kellie was in Spooky Tooth, for chrissakes, so I don’t think they’re too concerned with their stash of punk points. (This is, of course, putting aside the fact that Spooky Tooth’s album Ceremony: An Electronic Mass (one of the many albums Dominic has turned me on to over the years) is, by my arbitrary metric, pretty punk, dude.)

Anyway, back to this Only Ones album. Is it a great album? Perhaps not. It’s certainly not as great as Even Serpents Shine, though I can’t shake the feeling that it doesn’t aspire to greatness. It’s a murky, dingy album, the jacket’s muted, earthy, and unassuming layout doing a good job of capturing its overall approach and vibe. It certainly pulls me into its world, and all the way in at that. The album, particularly its second side, evokes what I imagine withdrawals must feel like, time moving slower than it seems like it should, the minutes grinding past like sandpaper against your skin. Not that it’s a difficult listen, just that it distorts your sense of time and makes you listen on its own terms. It’s an album to smoke a joint to and lose yourself in, not to throw on while you’re washing the dishes.

Right now I’m still basking in the glow of acquisition, so who knows where this album will land with me in the long term? Will it stick to my turntable like Even Serpents Shine, or will it live on the shelf, doing little more than making my Only Ones section feel complete? Either way, I’ve already gotten several enjoyable spins out of it, and I’m nowhere near ready to file it away.

Personal Damage: Atrophy & Entropy 12” (Test Subject Records) Here at Sorry State we’ve been huge fans of LA’s Personal Damage since they released their demo tape back in 2021, carrying that and their two subsequent EPs and giving them strong recommendations in our newsletter. It’s hardly surprising that we like them so much because Personal Damage plays a style of music that’s close to our hearts here… raw, fast, and snotty hardcore in the tradition of the Circle Jerks, Angry Samoans, Adrenalin OD, and even early Screeching Weasel. Personal Damage was great from the jump, but it feels like they’ve done something special with their debut album, Atrophy & Entropy. Musically, there aren’t any left turns from the earlier EPs… it’s a little more diverse in terms of tempo and structure, but moments like their cover of Peter Tosh’s reggae classic “Steppin’ Razor” on their Ambush EP already proved that Personal Damage had a deep bag of tricks. I think the real genius of Atrophy & Entropy is the care and precision with which they put it together. It’s difficult to make a ripping fast punk album that sustains the energy all the way through, but Personal Damage has a masterful command of dynamics, deploying moves like Circle Jerks-esque rhythmic changes, hooky melodies, and infectious call-and-response gang vocals (their real trademark… I can’t think of another band that does this as well as they do) so the energy level seems to rise without end, like one of those MC Escher drawings of an infinitely ascending staircase. It all fits together like fine joinery, grabbing you from the opening hook of “Head First” and not letting go until “End of the Last,” the epic closer that borrows a couple of tricks from Rikk Agnew’s “Section 8.” That sense of everything being in its place extends to the album’s audio production—a master class in crisp, present, and natural-sounding punk recording from Mike Kriebel of Shout Recordings’ Beat Sessions fame—and its visual presentation, including multiple inserts full of awesome illustrations and design to pore over while you’re listening. The depth and power of Atrophy & Entropy makes most of the punk records I own seem half-baked by comparison. If you’re intrigued by the band comparisons I dropped above, then you should give this a shot, but this record is exciting enough that you don’t have to dress like a Shawn Kerri drawing come to life to get into it… anyone who’s even considered getting a mohawk will get a buzz from Atrophy & Entropy.