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Our Flag Means Death, TV series, 2022

I’m going to mix things up with my staff pick this week and write about a TV series I enjoyed. I don’t watch a ton of TV. My wife and I often watch an episode while we eat dinner, and afterward she begs to keep watching while I try to get us to go in the living room to listen to records. While I find the good in most records I listen to, I’m not impressed with most of what I see on TV. The things I like tend toward the silly and the absurd. What We Do in the Shadows is probably my favorite current TV series, if that is any indication.

My wife Jet recommended that I watch Our Flag Means Death even though she had already watched the entire first season while I was away on tour. I gave it a try for a couple of reasons. First, it’s set in the 18th century. Longtime readers will know that I did my PhD in 18th century studies and I still have a fondness for the art, architecture, fashion, and literature from that period. Second, the lead role in Our Flag Means Death is played by Rhys Darby, whom I loved in his roles as the manager Murray in Flight of the Conchords and as the leader of the werewolf pack in the original film version of What We Do in the Shadows.

Our Flag Means Death starts as a farce, following Rhys Darby in his role as Stede Bonnet, a wealthy aristocrat who abandons his family and estate in order to become a pirate (Bonnet was a real person, upon whom the story is loosely based). Bonnet buys a ship and hires a crew, and hilarity ensues as they embark upon the pirate life. Bonnet’s crew is just as inept as he is, but many of the best jokes come out of Bonnet’s inability to turn his back on his previous lifestyle, either its creature comforts or its deeper moral and philosophical assumptions. For instance, Bonnet’s captain’s quarters are outfitted with a massive library and an enormous wardrobe, the latter of which supplies Bonnet with ridiculous outfits that gain him no respect from fellow pirates or potential adversaries.

When Bonnet encounters the legendary pirate Blackbeard in the series’ fourth episode, the stage is set for even more fish out of water silliness. In one of my favorite episodes, Bonnet takes Blackbeard to a high society party full of foppish aristocrats wearing massive wigs and pancake makeup, with Bonnet teaching Blackbeard the art of passive aggression. (This episode’s guest stars Nick Kroll and Kristen Schaal are hilarious too.)

I enjoyed all the silliness, but I probably wouldn’t be writing about this show in my staff pick if it weren’t for the final two or three episodes, where the show takes an unexpected turn. It’s not so much a plot twist as a wholesale reconfiguration of the show… what happens in the final few episodes essentially changes the show’s genre and makes you look back on everything that happened earlier with fresh eyes. I can see why Jet wanted to watch the entire series again.

If you decide to give Our Flag Means Death a try, do your best to avoid spoilers. I worry I’ve already revealed too much, but it’s not just the surprise of what happens that’s so exciting. It’s the subtlety, depth, and beauty with which it’s executed. There’s a second season on the way too, so now is the perfect time to catch up.

Persona: Free Your Mind 12” (Iron Lung Records) Iron Lung Records brings us the debut 7-song 12” EP from this New York City punk band. While I can describe most of the bands I write about for Sorry State with a few words, summing up their sound with a couple of band comparisons or a subgenre tag, Persona’s music feels totally separate from that line of thinking. Their songs sound raw, immediate, and visceral, like they come from something deeper and more personal than just thinking a certain band or style is cool. It’s impossible for me to tell whether Persona avoids copycatting by meticulously purging their music of elements that feel too familiar, or whether they just sidestep those kinds of concerns by being clear and confident about who they are as musicians and people. What I can tell you, though, is that Free Your Mind feels fresh, particularly for a hardcore record as raging as it is. The rhythms are wild, the noisy textures are rich with detail, and the performances ooze with passion. On paper, moments like the sludgy intro for “Get F*****d,” the haunting, Part 1-esque second half of “Moment of Silence,” the triumphant mosh of “Race to the Bottom,” the acid-fried United Mutation-isms of “One Way Out,” and the blasting “Pure Evil” should should sound scattered, but it all hangs together on the strength of Persona’s gravitas and their power as musicians. I’m amazed by how much Persona can pack into these 11 minutes of wild and addictive hardcore punk.

What’s up Sorry State readers. Sometimes you just feel like listening to some fast and angry shit. This week I’ve found myself playing my Power Trip - Hornet’s Nest flexi a bunch. Originally released as a single for Adult Swim, the song’s popularity quickly rose and became one of the band’s biggest hits. The flexi for the single was originally sold at shows on their tour with High On Fire in the Fall of 2019, but luckily you can snag a copy pretty easily as they’re still selling remaining copies from the tour. This song rips and has so many sick riffs throughout it. Riley Gale’s vocals also sound awesome here as he’s screaming about not getting squashed like a bug. This song always gets stuck in my head the rest of the day whenever I hear it. Something about it is so catchy. Power Trip really just hits the spot sometimes and this song is no exception.

Hey Sorry State fam. How are ya? I’ve been a bit under the weather this week, but on the mend. So yeah, enough about me. Let’s just get into the music. Which I guess is also about me because it’s my pick. Whatever.

This week’s pick is Chubby and the Gang’s Labour of Love EP, the three-track “Valentine’s Day” release that I’m just hearing now. Also to preface, I haven’t heard anything from this band prior to this, so I have the opportunity to form an objective opinion with no comparison biases lurking in the back of my brain.

Personally I don’t think there’s much here not to like. It’s three songs with three pretty different styles, which feels like the right approach when your EP only has three songs. I’m gonna take a wild guess that the opening track, Who Loves Ya? (Coup d’ état), is probably not a totally accurate representation of the band’s previous sound. It’s purposely bubble-gummy, but the kind you’d find on the floor of the garage. Garage-gum, if you will. It’s structured like a 70s rock love song that’s punk enough to lack commercial appeal. I hate how much I use this word, but dammit it’s catchy. Not gonna lie, I first thought the simple, lovey, anthemic chorus made the song a little bit karaoke-ish. But all in all I think the singer’s raspy, growly voice and the abrasive guitar legitimizes the song. You get what they’re doing, so I think it works.

The next two tracks will probably be more welcomed by a hardcore/punk audience. Twice Shy is more in your face, less sing-songy, but sticks to the theme. The singer’s voice gets a bit more throaty, the sound is more distorted, and the drums are heavier. I really like the closing song, Ain’t There No One? It’s kind of a nice combination of the first two tracks. It’s melodic and even a bit bluesy, but it’s got the punkier sound of the second track. That all said, I like that that the band changes up their style from song to song but still maintains cohesiveness across the record.

I would be remiss not to comment on the packaging. I admit it’s what drew me in. It’s fucking cute, alright? But also perfectly fitting for this concept-style EP. And it’s just corny enough to know it’s done that way on purpose. Yeah it’s a picture disc, but it sounds totally fine. I typically don’t love picture discs just because they are heavy and I hate records that take up too much space. I don’t even like double LPs. However, the craft of making a picture disc sound good has improved drastically in the last few years.

Anyways, take a listen and thanks for reading!

-Angela

https://chubbyandthegang.bandcamp.com/album/labour-of-love

Hello and thank you for reading. Today I am writing about something pretty random. I haven’t done that in a while, but I am really excited to finally have a copy of this record! I don’t know a ton of German bands. Pogar Records was my introduction to German hardcore. The EPs released by VELLOCET and MALINHEADS on Pogar have always been some of my favorite 7”s, ever. For a while I didn’t know many other bands from Germany but over the years I’ve learned about some others like SCAPEGOATS, UPRIGHT CITIZENS, MANIACS, SCHLEIM-KEIM, OHL, and most recently, THE BUTTOCKS. But one of my favorite German bands that is not on Pogar is BLUTTAT. Many years ago, when Carly was working at Sorry State, she was playing their second LP when I came to hang out one day. At first, it didn’t really catch my ear. BLUTTAT has a really interesting sound. Some of it is really “poppy” sounding but then you get blasted by pure hardcore. I think some pure hardcore hit and that’s when my ears perked up and I had to know who she was jamming. The band has some elements of like new wave at times, especially on their 1986 LP. Even though they lean a lot more into that sound on this record, I still really enjoy it. The first record is really good as well. It’s kind of noisy and a bit sloppy. The vocalist constantly bombards you with lyrics as well, which adds to the rippingness. The sound reminds me a bit of ELECTRIC DEADS (Denmark) or WAX (Sweden). The first track off the 12” sounds quite a bit different from the rest of the record, especially with a different member of the band on vocal duties.

Anyway, I think BLUTTAT’s real gem is Nkululeko. There is something so perfect about this record to me. The bits between each song really enhance my listening pleasure. Since there is a language barrier, I am not sure what the context of this stuff is. Some of it is so cheesy sounding that I would naturally think it’s a joke or something… but then the passages continue for a considerable amount of time. This, along with their “poppiness,” makes their hardcore sound really stand out. It makes it sound even more nasty when you hear that fused with these other unique elements. It’s funny, I think if a band had a sound that was kind of all over the place like this one in this day and age I would probably dislike it haha. On this record, some parts really remind me of KALASHNIKOV (Denmark) actually, and I really like that band. I had no idea how cool the packaging was going to be on this LP when it arrived in the mail, so that really added to the sweetness of finally securing a copy. Alright, I think that’s about it for today. Thanks for reading as always. And thank you Carly, for showing me this killer band!! Peace.

Hey there Sorry Staters. How’s it going? Good, I hope.

As per usual, records are coming at us thick and fast here at Sorry State. We’ve bought some good collections with lots of cool and interesting records. I don’t think I am alone amongst the crew when I say there were several that I wanted to buy. Often, I can scratch the itch by giving a record a spin at the store and that’s enough, but every now and then you just can’t say no to something when it crosses your path. Maybe because it’s rarer than rocking horse shit and you might not get another chance, or perhaps because it has special meaning to you, or now is just the right time. Whatever the reason, sometimes you must pull the trigger. That was the case with a collection that Daniel bought recently that had lots of tasty soul and funk titles. Some have hit the floor already and there is more to come. Amongst the records in this collection were two copies (one sealed) of Lee Dorsey’s 1966 album Ride Your Pony—Get Out Of My Life Woman. I had to snag the open copy, and that’s going to be my pick/brag for this week.

Lee Dorsey—Ride Your Pony—Get Out Of My Life Woman. Amy Records. 1966

Surprisingly, I did not own an original copy of this record. I’ve been a fan of Lee Dorsey ever since I first heard his breakout single Ya Ya, probably from the American Graffiti or Porky’s movie soundtracks many years ago. As my journey of musical discovery continued, I began picking up more tracks of his on compilations and the odd 45 that I would find. Labels like Charly in the UK and Line in Germany put out good compilations and reissues of his material and by the beginning of the 00s, Sundazed had joined in and reissued his records too. Picking up some of these over the years, I had my Lee Dorsey fix covered—for the most part. Of course, as most of you can appreciate, the more you get into an artist or band, the more you want to own their original records. Although gaining access to the music hasn’t been tough, finding the original records has become increasingly difficult and expensive. Thus, although I have seen copies for sale and worked at stores that had sold copies, I tended to pass either because the price was out of my budget, or the copy wasn’t that clean, etc. Finally, now in 2022, I feel the time is right to plonk down some dough on a copy.

A quick catch up on Lee Dorsey and his career. He was born in New Orleans, although he moved away to Portland when he was a child. He unsuccessfully tried boxing as a career, served time during the war in the navy, and returned to New Orleans, where he opened an auto repair shop, working on cars during the day and singing in clubs at night. This was during the late 1950s. Around the turn of the decade, he met A&R man Marshal Sehorn who got him signed to Fury records, and with the assistance of another local soon to be legend, Allen Toussaint, on piano, they came up with the breakthrough hit Ya Ya. There followed several singles, some minor hits, but not enough to keep Lee away from his daytime passion of working on cars. Just like Jeff Beck. Anyway, a couple of years later Dorsey got together again with Toussaint and this time everything clicked. Backed up in the studio by up-and-coming group The Meters—yes those guys—the hits came thick and fast. Ride Your Pony, Get Out Of My Life Woman were the two big singles and the title of the album. The New Orleans funk mixed with his lighthearted vocal style swept the nation. Follow up hits included Working In The Coalmine and Holy Cow, and a second LP that centered around these tunes was issued under the title The New Lee Dorsey. These records were released on the Amy label, which was distributed by Bell. At the end of the decade, Lee switched to Polydor, and again with Toussaint at the helm cut the Yes We Can album. The title song was a hit when recorded by The Pointer sisters, who added an extra Can at the end.

Dorsey semi-retired after that and spent most of the 70s working on cars at his shop. He made a guest appearance on a Southside Johnny and The Asbury Jukes LP in 1976, and this led to an album of his own on ABC called Night People in 1978. That record again had him working with Allen Toussaint, along with other notable New Orleans artists such as Irma Thomas. It’s not a bad record, but the fact that you can find a copy for under $10 should tell you a lot.

Dorsey still had enough “cool” credit in the bank to be asked to support several big names on concert tours in the early 1980s, including opening for The Clash on their 1980 US tour. He also toured with James Brown.

Sadly, Dorsey developed emphysema and passed away in 1986, aged just 61. His legendary status carried on, and as the 80s gave way to the 90s and beyond, any self-respecting DJ, producer, record collector and music enthusiast had to have his records in their collections. Especially as the status of The Meters grew, knowledge that they backed up Lee Dorsey only added to the desirability of his records. Rightfully so.

Anyway, it’s cool to finally own a nice copy of the Ride Your Pony album. I have always found the cover art interesting too. It sports a shot of a diverse bunch of kids set against a New York City backdrop. Although the music was made in New Orleans, and the urban imagery might be out of place, to me it adds to the allure. Particularly because I lived there for a while. Here’s a link to listen to the album. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do. Until next time.

-Dom

What’s up Sorry Staters?

I wish I had more to mention on the personal front, but I’m just gonna dive right in: I’ve been noticing that during the time Scarecrow was outta town for tour there have been several new releases we’ve stocked that I didn’t even notice. I feel like a fool! Somehow, the fact that Personal Damage had already released their 3rd tape and that we already had copies in stock at Sorry State totally breezed right past me. I think Sorry State has had them available through the distro since July, so maybe my excitement will be old news for some of y’all. No surprise, this new tape Violent Ritual fuckin’ RIIIIIPPPS. I loved Personal Damage’s first tape (later released on flexi) so much. And I wouldn’t say that they lost me exactly with their 2nd tape Ambush, but even though I liked it okay, I honestly didn’t like it quite as much. This new tape knocked my socks off though! The title track kicks in so immediate with energy. Some America’s Hardcore-style riffing and snarling attitude. It’s funny man, America’s Hardcore only has 3 studio recordings released on a few compilations, but they’re still such an important reference point for me when you’re talking ripping ass California hardcore. But anyway, this time around, the band’s sense of melody and songwriting does kinda remind me of some New England hardcore like The Freeze. I love the last 2 songs, “Rise And Fall” and “Banned From Society,” which have these catchy call-and-response backup vocals. I think if other hardcore bands tried to incorporate these kinds of vocals, it might come across like “hard” or like cheesy gang vocals, but with Personal Damage, I don’t get that impression. The dudes doing background vocals sound more like a snotty crew of drunks in the background, and the chanting just takes the songs to another level and only makes the choruses more memorable. 5 blistering songs of tight yet sloppy hardcore leaves you broken and battered in just under 6 minutes. Killer.

Short and sweet, just like this tape. Like hardcore? You should probably get this Personal Damage. Anyway, that’s all I’ve got. As always, thanks for reading.

‘Til next week,

-Jeff

Harry Sword: Monolithic Undertow: In Search of Sonic Oblivion (2022, Third Man Books)

Monolithic Undertow arrived at Sorry State in early July, just before we left for our big European tour. Based on the book’s description and my trust in the Third Man brand (particularly when it comes to the written word… how many times can I tell you to read Maggot Brain?), I was excited to read it, but I decided against dragging it through a dozen-plus countries and fighting to read it through bouts of carsickness. I’m glad I exercised patience, because I enjoyed the book and I’m not sure that would have happened if I didn’t give it the attention it deserved.

Monolithic Undertow investigates the history and significance of the drone, tracing humans’ engagement with the idea through millennia of cultural development. Sword defines the drone as an “audio space” where “sounds don’t (or, crucially appear not to) change at all.” He casts a wide net, finding examples of the drone in everything from the persistent hum of the natural world to the clatter of city life to the myriad musical traditions, both ancient and modern, that de-emphasize change and modulation. The significance of the drone is, ultimately, the reaction it causes in humans. Confronting a phenomenon that (theoretically, at least) does not change throws the emphasis back on our own (often fragile, mutable) psyches, much like the psychedelic experience, sending us to a third place where we are both participant in and observer of our own consciousness. It’s not about listening so much as being. I’m hitting a wall attempting to articulate what I mean here, but if you don’t have a taste for philosophizing, Monolithic Undertow probably isn’t for you.

While there isn’t a big section break at the halfway point, Monolithic Undertow is a book of two halves. Roughly half the book covers music up to and including the Velvet Underground, while the latter half of the book examines the rock era. The Velvet Underground is crucial for Sword because they’re the bridge between the avant-garde and the mainstream, the underground and the overground, carving a door to the wider world that everyone from Faust to Sunn O))) could charge right through.

For me, the first half of Monolithic Undertow is the real meat of the book. Sword goes way back, surveying a field called archaeoacoustics that I never knew existed. These scholars examine archaeological evidence, drawing conclusions about what the past sounded like. Swords spends much of the first chapter writing about the acoustic properties of Neolithic gathering spaces in caves, analyzing the way these spaces reverberate and imagining what sorts of sonic rituals might have happened in them thousands of years ago. It all feels very speculative, but that’s par for the course with paleoanthropology, since the archaeological record of the Neolithic period is so sparse. From there, Sword examines the drone as a motif in a range of religious and cultural traditions across the world and throughout recorded history, with a heavy emphasis on the Indian music tradition that so shaped 20th and 21st-century music. This is all history I was dimly aware of, but Sword is an excellent guide, providing plenty of signals of where to continue exploring if your curiosity is piqued.

I enjoyed the second half of Monolithic Undertow, but it was less revelatory for me. Sword’s history of the drone in the post-Velvet Underground musical landscape amounts to a capsule history of “head” / drug / psychedelic / trance / etc music, with a chapter each on kosmiche / German progressive / “Krautrock” (including Hawkwind, the main British purveyors of that style), doom and drone metal, and ambient and electronic music. The former two genres I’ve spent some time exploring so there wasn’t much that was news to me, but the electronic music chapter introduced me to some interesting new sounds (like, for instance, JK Flesh, a Justin Broadrick project that fuses techno, industrial, and dub reggae). Besides these histories being well-trod ground for music critics, I felt like Sword’s concept of the drone gets very loose in these chapters. Several times, I found myself thinking, “wait, what does this have to do with the drone?”While Sword doesn’t say this (at least that I remember), it seems as if in more recent music, the drone is less a musical motif and more of an idea(l), a semi-inchoate resistance to the idea that everything needs to be changing, evolving, and generating excitement all the time.

While I have these minor quibbles, Monolithic Undertow taught me about a bunch of music I didn’t know about, and it and kept me thinking long after I put the book down. In my mind, those are the marks of a great music book. Score another win for Third Man.

Note: Of course, just as I chose this book as my staff pick, we sold our last copy. I’ll try to get a restock next time we order from Third Man, and if you’d like to be notified when the restock comes in, there’s the handy “email me when available” widget on our website.

Ignorantes: Parece Que Tuvimos Demasiados Hijitos 12” (Under the Gun Records) After nearly a decade releasing hard to find tapes and 7”s, Parece Que Tuvimos Demasiados Hijitos (“It seems we had too many little children”) is the first 12” vinyl from Chile’s Ignorantes. I’m not sure if the band considers it a full-length, since this 45rpm 12” consists mostly of re-recordings of songs that appeared on those earlier releases, but regardless of its discographical status, Parece Que Tuvimos Demasiados Hijitos distills everything that’s great about Ignorantes to its raw essence. The band’s name tells you all you need to know, Ignorantes’ primitive bashing sounding like the glue-damaged grandchildren of the first two Chaos UK 7”s. The drummer’s simple pogo beats stagger like they’ve just downed four drinks at last call, the tinny guitars are only decipherable when they’re playing wild, unstructured leads, very angry people yell at you in Spanish, and the bassist holds everything together with a sense of melody that sounds like it was honed in a child’s nursery. This framework stays consistent throughout Parece Que Tuvimos Demasiados Hijitos, but you’re not really coming to Ignorantes for subtle stylistic innovation… or subtle anything for that matter. This is bash-you-over-the-head shit, a temper tantrum set to the unrelenting metronome of humanity’s decline. You’re either going to think this record is the worst or the best thing you’ve ever heard. Give it a spin and find out which side of the fence you passed out on.