Hey there, Sorry Staters. Just a quick one for me this week.

So, recently we bought a collection that had a lot of country music, specifically country rock related to The Byrds, Eagles and the whole scene connected to the Troubadour Club and L.A. canyons. This dude had all the side projects and related albums that key figures played on. He was a big Gram Parsons fan for instance, so look for those records hitting our bins over the next few weeks. In amongst the collection was a good amount of bluegrass also and I know Rachel has been having fun going through that part. The other day in the store we had a mini festival, playing some of them. I enjoy me some classic country and can take some vintage bluegrass every now and then.

If there’s one thing that is certain, nothing brings people of different cultures and backgrounds together more than music. Food being a close second. Because of my love of music and thirst for new sounds and chasing down connections, I soon discovered that in the studios when making music, particularly soul music and country, race had no place. It was about the music and how well you played or could sing that mattered most and not the color of your skin. A lot of white musicians played on soul records and plenty of black artists played country too, although you don’t hear about that too much. Everyone has at least heard about Charlie Pride and knows Darius Rucker, Lil Nas X, and that Ray Charles did country, but when it comes to female country singers, you must think for a second.

I’ve had a record in my collection for a while by a singer named Linda Martell called Color Me Country that came out on the Plantation label in 1970. It’s not bad and worthy of investigation for fans of the sort of country records that Plantation label mate Jeannie C. Riley was making. You know? Harper Valley P.T.A.

Martell was from South Carolina and was spotted singing county songs at a gig on an Air Force base. She was set up to record a demo, which made its way to Shelby Singleton, owner of the Plantation and SSR labels. He signed her up and recorded the one album with her and put out several singles. One called Color Me Father, which had been made popular by the soul group The Winstons, was a sizable hit. She is notable for being the first black female singer to appear on the Grand Ole Opry, and followed that up with over a dozen other performances at the famed venue. She was also the first black female singer to feature on TV show Hee-Haw, and for a minute was poised for potential stardom. Unfortunately, a fall out with her manager over money and a lawsuit he brought caused problems. Her label also told her they would give promotional priority to Jeannie C. Riley, who was taking off simultaneously. Martell left her contract and recorded demos to shop to other labels. Singleton at Plantation did not like this and basically blackballed her career in the music industry. This and the strain of performing in front of often abusive white audiences pretty much put an end to her career in country, although she stayed active as a performer for a couple more decades. In more recent years, her contribution to the world of country music has been acknowledged, and in 2021 she received the Equal Play Award at the CMT Music Awards.

As for the record itself? It’s not bad and the cover of Color Me Father is decent. A nice blend of a soul-ish vocal with country backing. Elsewhere songs such as You’re Crying Boy, Crying and I Almost Called Your Name are all the equal of quality county pop records that were being made at that time. I really like the Jeannie C. Riley records and if you do too, then you’ll enjoy the songs on Color Me Country, as I am sure they were cut by a lot if not all the same musicians. I always assumed that the record was a cheap one as everything else I have found on the label has been, but even those Jeannie records are climbing up in value these days, and a look at current Discogs prices show folks want Linda Martell now too. Have a listen to the songs I linked to, and keep an eye out for this one in your local record store bins.

Cheers everyone and see you next time.

-Dom

What’s up Sorry Staters?

Sorry that I slacked off and didn’t write anything for last week’s newsletter. I promised myself this round that I’d have something really rad prepared. But I am once again finding myself here on Thursday morning feeling like I have nothing cool or interesting to say about any of our new releases. Big surprise, right? Lots of other little concerns have occupied my brain space I guess. Needless to say, it’s so sick that Death Church is officially back in print. It makes me happy that even some of the local rock fans are popping into the shop to grab a copy. Our supply is dwindling, so make sure you snag yourself a copy before they’re gone.

Lately, I’ve been listening to music in the car while driving a lot. I try to find punk tunes that make me feel the most badass, as if I were rocking wraparound shades while cruising the SoCal backstreets in a black & white movie. Maybe in a tricked out lowrider? I’m just kidding, I don’t really know shit about cars. But in this daydream scenario, only the meanest and rudest punk bangers will do. I’ve been obsessively listening to “Don’t Push Me Around” by The Zeros like every 5 minutes. It just rips. For being released in 1977, it already has that loose, youthful and snotty aggression that hints at the hardcore scene on the horizon. There’s something about that opening riff and how even with it being pretty simple, it’s so dirgey and powerful, almost like Discharge slowed down. So catchy, so nasty. And the b-side of the single “Wimp” ain’t too shabby either. For every single released by The Romantics or whoever, Bomp was putting out some seedy rippers from the other end of the “punk/power pop” spectrum. I recently considered purchasing an og copy of this single, but do I really wanna pay over $100 for 2 songs? You’re so right, I probably should just do it.

Do your buddy Jeff a favor… it’s supposed to be nice out tomorrow (at least here in Raleigh), so put on a pair of shades and blast some Zeros while you’re weaving in and out of traffic. Get a little dangerous. Maybe get into a street brawl! …well, maybe not all that. But definitely blast The Zeros.

As always, thanks for reading.

‘Til next week,

-Jeff

Mandy, Indiana: … EP (2021, Fire Talk Records)

I spent most of the past four days driving alone from Denver, Colorado to Raleigh, North Carolina, about 1,600 miles. On the long drive I binged on podcasts and albums, and I had a great time.

At one point I was listening to an interview with Fred Armisen on Samantha Bee’s podcast, and she asked him if there was a particular way he liked to listen to music. His answer was that he loved to listen to music while traveling, like in a car or on an airplane, because he felt like he could devote his full attention to the music and get lost in it. This has always been the case for me, too. I think part of it is that I feel like I always need to be doing something. Sitting there, just listening to music feels like an indulgence, but when I’m in transit, I’m already “doing” something, so it sets free whatever part of my brain craves productivity and lets it focus on the music that I’m listening to. Exercise works in a similar way, and in the pre-COVID days when I had a gym membership, I loved zoning out to music while on the elliptical machine.

I have many fond memories tied to traveling and music. Growing up in the country, I’ve always had long commutes to school, work, and virtually everywhere else. When I was a kid, the radio was always playing in my parents’ cars, and once I was old enough to drive, the car was a rare private space where I could listen to whatever music I wanted as loud as I wanted without worrying about disturbing anyone else. I also remember many late nights riding around with my best friend Billy blasting bands like Less than Jake and Bad Religion, screaming ourselves hoarse as we sang along. I can’t count the number of artists and albums I’ve fallen in love with in the car.

On this trip from Denver, I spent a lot of time listening to the BBC Sounds app I wrote about last week, and I’m pretty sure I heard multiple BBC 6 DJs play tracks from Manchester’s Mandy, Indiana. I remember hearing them for the first time when I was driving around Raleigh last week and thinking it sounded pretty cool, then after hearing them multiple times on the trip from Denver, I was intrigued enough to the whole record.

I must have put on … at the perfect time, traveling through the rolling hills of middle-of-nowhere Kentucky just as yet another Red Bull was hitting my system. Mandy, Indiana’s dense polyrhythms perfectly suited my forward momentum, the deep, dub-style bass lines so loud on the rental car stereo system that I could feel my bowels shaking. In the higher registers, Valentine Caulfield’s French-language vocals and a dense maze of whooshing and echoing noises are an aural feast, a wonderland of criss-crossing rhythms and melodies.

I don’t know how you’d describe Mandy, Indiana’s music in terms of style or genre. The closest comparison I can think of is Rakta’s Falha Comum LP, an album I was completely obsessed with when it came out. Like Rakta, Mandy, Indiana’s booming bass lines and dance music grooves remind me of Public Image Ltd, but what they lay over the rhythm section is denser and crazier-sounding. Mandy, Indiana, also seems to take more influence from techno, particularly on the two remix tracks that close this 5-song EP.

Once I got home, I looked up who was pressing and distributing Mandy, Indiana’s vinyl. Rather than just getting one for myself, I ordered a couple of copies for Sorry State, even though it’s well outside our usual wheelhouse. I’m keeping one for myself, but a couple of you might like this and want a copy too.

Barren Soil: self-titled cassette (self-released) Barren Soil is from Vancouver, but those of you with an eye for graphic design will notice the Celtic knots and other medieval imagery and realize that Barren Soil draws musical inspiration from the 80s UK crust and stenchcore scenes. Crust and stench are two styles I didn’t have a taste for in my younger days, but I’ve come to love them in recent years, and Barren Soil carves out an interesting niche within that universe. They bring together elements of faster crust a la Doom or Extreme Noise Terror with heavy, mid-paced parts in the vein of Amebix or Axegrinder, sometimes alternating between those styles and tempos within the same song. The production is heavy and huge-sounding, with guttural vocals that are on the nose for the style yet highly effective. While tracks like “Illusions of Progress” flirt with a straightforward crust sound, others like “Throne and Altar” lean more toward thrash metal with complex riffing and more interesting rhythmic dynamics. There’s even an ultra-short Heresy-style thrasher, “Earn the Dirt.” And then there are the crushing, mid-paced stench parts, which are peppered throughout the tape but come to a head with the epic closing track, “Commodified Neurons.” With powerful production, great songwriting, and a fresh-sounding style, Barren Soil captures something special on this tape.

Short n’ sweet this week. We got a package from Me Saco Un Ojo earlier this week and I made the mistake of queuing them all up during my shift. I knew Undergang ripped but the rest of the bands? Fucking killer. It’s a mistake because my hold pile is getting out of hand and I’m having such a hard time convincing myself against all these titles, ack! I don’t think I’ll be able to stop myself from buying the Ossuary LP. That is hands down my favorite. But the Hyperdontia record is nuts; super worth listening to. Today I’ll be making my way through the new Undergang joints we got in and probably kicking myself for wanting to buy those, too. This job is such a blessing and a curse; I love going into work every day, but holy shit Daniel needs to stop finding all these ways to part me with my money. Check out all the new Me Saco Un Ojo releases we got in and help me shake a fist at Daniel for finding all the best shit.

Hello, and thank you for reading. Today I will be talking briefly about my favorite, Suomi hardcore. I was pleased we got some of the SEKAANNUS 12”s in stock. The Finnish Hardcore label is an excellent label that has me eternally excited for what they have up their sleeve. While the original ‘Kutsu’ 7" from 1985 does not sell for exorbitant prices like some other Finnish slabs from the same era, it doesn’t make this reissue any less important to me. This EP was originally released as a single-sided, three track 7". The session was recorded at Laser Studio, where some of the greatest Finnish bands like MELLAKKA, DESTRUCKTIONS, POHJASAKKA, KAAOS, and APPENDIX recorded between 1983 and 1985. This 12" reissue features an additional three songs(!!!) from the same session that were not originally released on the 7". These tracks have remained totally unreleased prior to this 12". I was wondering why they weren’t released on the original record. They aren’t played poorly, which often times would be the deciding factor for a song not making the cut. Haha, well kind of... Many of these classic records are from sessions where each song was recorded in only one take, but that was usually due to lack of money for a “real-deal” recording session. Anyway, I learned from the label that the band only released a single-sided 7" cos a double-sided one was too expensive, so that mystery is solved. The Finnish Hardcore reissue comes with a booklet that’s got great information on the band’s history and the recording session where ‘Kutsu’ was recorded. And of course, it includes all the original artwork plus bonus material such as their appearances in a few zines. In true Finnish Hardcore fashion, this reissue was clearly made with a tremendous amount of love, care, and attention to detail. This is another top-notch archival release that deserves a place in every record collection, really.

I first heard SEKAANNUS on their split with MASSACRE. While both bands played faster (and sloppier) hardcore on this release, the SEKAANNUS sound changes quite a bit in the next year leading up to ‘Kutsu.’ In the booklet, they talk about the sound and how the band was leaning more towards FLUX OF PINK INDIANS than DISCHARGE at this point. While I enjoy the early stuff, the ‘Kutsu’ tracks are very cool, especially in that they stand out from other Finnish bands during that time. Regardless of this evolution, one of the unreleased tracks on the B-side is still a raging D-beat track. It’s sick to hear them play locked-in like that cos they sounded pretty sloppy early on while they were trying to sound like DISCHARGE, haha.

Alright next, have you seen the “new” KAAOS 7" on Fight Records? I have and I want one bad... but I don’t have one, yet. We tried to get copies but the initial run sold out pretty quickly. No surprise there. However, we have a nice stack of copies of the repress secured for us!!! Not sure when they will ship, but if you still need a copy, don’t worry; we got you covered. I don’t know much about this 7" but I know it’s an unreleased session from 1982. There are two songs from this session that have appeared on their split with CADGERS and on the “Systeemi Ei Toimi E.P.” compilation. But those tracks were recorded at a different studio, so these are different versions which I think were recorded later. I’m pretty sure one song has never been released at all, but I could be wrong. The Fight Records page says the other track was never released as a KAAOS song but given to BASTARDS and they released their own version, which is pretty sick. They also say it’s actually the guitarist of BASTARDS playing on this entire session. Anyway, I can’t wait to get our copies, nerd out, and blast these unreleased tracks of raw Finnish hardcore. Keep your eyes and ears open for updates.

Still in the world of FInnish hardcore, have you seen the VARAUS ‘Tuomittu Elämään E.P.’ reissue?!! So fucking cool. Feral Ward did that 1/1 LP (which was essentially the same tracks as the 1996 ‘Requiem’ CD reissue) but it’s cool Lärmattacke Records is doing just the EP like the OG, especially now cos the Feral Ward reissue is difficult to come by. When I first saw this EP reissue, I lost my mind cos I didn’t hear about it at all until I saw it for sale on their site. And then I lost my mind again in confusion why it said there was only 150 pressed on black vinyl, alongside some “limited” color variants... I went to check out and they wouldn’t ship to USA, again losing my mind haha... Luckily I secured copies for me and some friends. However in the end it won’t even matter, hehe. Of course SSR inquired about distro copies even though there was a small quantity made. I learned that the plant had “lost” a portion of the records and was in the process of pressing the compensating copies, so at that time there were no copies available for wholesale. Luckily we asked at a good time cos we have a very nice stack secured for us. If there are no delays, expect to see us with those two monstrous distro stockpiles in the beginning of April. Alright, that’s it for this week. Thanks for reading, and thanks so much for the support.

Bad Religion: How Could Hell Be Any Worse 12” (1982)

Sup gang? I’m popping back in the newsletter to tell y’all about something I’m excited about. I crossed a big one off my want list recently. I scooped up Bad Religion’s first LP, How Could Hell Be Any Worse? last week and I haven’t felt this excited about a record score in a while. For me, this is one of the best hardcore records of all time. Or if nothing else, I’m just really nostalgic about it. Songs like “Latch Key Kids” and “Fuck Armageddon This Is Hell” will always make me start fist pumping to the beat. It has a distinctly melodic and driving southern California sound I love. But obviously, what separates Bad Religion from a lot of their contemporaries is their lyrics. Even as teenagers, Greg Graffin and Brett Gurewitz were writing about philosophy, science, and politics in a manner most punks didn’t dive into. As their career progresses over the years, I find their lyrics to be a little pretentious, but this album is the perfect mix of ripping hardcore and snotty intellect. I’m sort of a Bad Religion apologist and love most eras of the band, but it doesn’t get much better than this right here. Hell yes.

Catch ya next time!

Hi everyone. How’s it going? Another crazy week for me and a day yesterday that had its highs and lows. Did you ever have one of those days when you felt you couldn’t win? That’s how I was feeling yesterday. Here are some highlights: burnt my toast, spilled my coffee, found my favorite sunglasses had a crack, tripped on a loose walkway board and sprained my ankle, had the bottom of two record boxes fall out from under me, got home to my cats puking on my door mat—welcome home daddy—washing-up bowl split and flooded my kitchen with dirty water, ruined my dinner because the spatula I used melted on the pan, burned my hand on the oven and then finally when I sat down to eat I noticed another cat had dropped a turd in the middle of the floor for me to look at while I ate. Blimey, I can’t win, I thought. Perfect inspiration for my staff picks this week. Time to pull out one of my favorite 45s, a 60s garage nugget that literally sums up that feeling.

The Monacles – I Can’t Win. Variety 1966/ Norton 2001

The Monacles were a Los Angeles garage band who put out a couple of singles in the mid 1960s, not to be confused with another band from Colorado who spelled their name Monocles. The single I Can’t Win is a great track and so is the flipside, a song called Heartaches For Me. For today’s selection, though, the A side wins out. Interestingly, the single was released twice in slightly different versions. An original will set you back at least a $100 and I have only seen a couple during my time. It also came in two different sleeves and in a yellow vinyl edition and black vinyl. My copy is the reissue that Norton Records put out in the early 00s. They reproduced one of the sleeves from the original and issued alternate takes of the single on yellow vinyl. I think they chose correctly, as these alternates sound better to my ears too. Billy Miller knew what he was doing. May he rest in power. Some of my fondest memories of my New York days were interacting with him and buying Norton releases and other records from him. Anyway, the song is brilliant, and I have kept it in my DJ box for many a spin at gigs and so it was easily to hand last night for a good blasting. How great is the healing power of music? I felt much better after hearing it and was ready to continue with the rest of my evening.

The rest of my evening consisted of watching my beloved Liverpool play against Inter Milan in Italy for a Champions League game. I had taped it earlier and had stayed away from news and social media all day to watch it without knowing the result. Great game, which we won by two goals scored in the second half by Bobby Firmino and Mo Salah. Fantastic stuff. Inspiring. No matter how bad you might feel in life, certain things can just lift you, and I’m so thankful for the joy received from loving the beautiful game. Our anthem is You’ll Never Walk Alone and hearing our supporters sing that along with some of our other songs in the San Siro stadium, drowning out the Italian crowd, was just what I needed.

Between playing my Monacles 45 and watching the game, I spied another single whose title seemed almost too perfect. It is titled The Show Must Go On, and the artist is Terry Collins. It was released on the Kwanza label (a Warner Brothers label) in 1973. I picked up this single recently and hadn’t got around to playing it yet. Shameful, I know. I’m sure other record nuts know how that can happen, right?

The tune is a nice soul ballad sung from the singer’s perspective to his daughter and family who miss him because he is always on the road performing. Hence the song title. It’s a long song too, almost six minutes. Unfortunately, I can’t tell you much about Terry Collins other than he released several singles in the 1970s and may also have been a Gospel singer. I don’t know. I found it quite moving and inspiring, and it fitted in with the theme and mood of my day. Not quite the same stylistically as the Monacles single, but a good follow up. The world keeps spinning and the show must go on.

Perhaps after hearing these two songs, you may feel as enriched as I am. Or maybe not. Music can be a communal or individual experience and will have different effects on folks depending on so many factors. But yesterday, for me, these tunes did the trick.

Have a great week everyone and I’ll see you next time.

Cheers - Dom

Over the last few months as Sorry State has gotten busier, I’ve developed a bad habit of working well into the evening. When I finally get into bed, my mind is often still racing and I find it difficult to sleep. When this happens, I like the soothing sounds of someone talking to me in a measured, monotonous way, and I like what they’re talking about to take me as far away as possible from the stressors of my world. I’ve been listening to an audiobook about the history of the ancient world, in which a very professorial (and apparently elderly) British man recites lengthy genealogies of the kings of ancient Egypt, China, the Middle East, and Europe. Another favorite is the History Extra Podcast, where the editors of BBC History Magazine interview history scholars about a wide range of historical topics, some familiar but many of them downright arcane. Another of my favorites is In Our Time, a BBC4 program hosted by Melvin Bragg. It’s a panel show where each week Bragg and three panelists (usually professors) discuss a single topic. Sometimes the topic is from ancient history, sometimes modern science, often the work of a literary writer or philosopher. In Our Time is the perfect sleep aid because it’s just interesting enough to take my mind away from whatever I was thinking about, but dry enough that I’m guaranteed to fall asleep within 15 minutes.

A few weeks ago I made it to the end of an episode of In Our Time (I must have been stressed) and they mentioned the podcast would move from their existing feed to the BBC Sounds app. I was annoyed at having to download a new app, but since I did, I’ve been spending a lot of time with it. The BBC Sounds app seems to round up virtually all the content from the BBC’s various radio stations, along with a bunch of exclusive podcasts. After subscribing to In Our Time, the first thing I did was look for similar “put me to sleep” content, of which there is a motherlode. BBC Radio 4 is all spoken-word programming, and as far as I can tell, most or all of it seems to be on the BBC Sounds app. Last night I listened to a 30-minute documentary about the history of staircases. What more could an insomniac ask for?

The next thing I noticed was that all the BBC’s radio stations stream live on the site. A few weeks ago I drove to Virginia to buy someone’s record collection, leaving around 8AM east coast US time, which is early afternoon in the UK. I can’t remember which channel I pulled up first, but it was a drive-time program with traffic reports from exotic-sounding places. While it wasn’t as dense with music as American radio, the songs they played were stylistically across the board and almost all things I liked. I heard the Modern Lovers’ “Roadrunner,” XTC’s “Making Plans for Nigel,” TLC’s “No Scrubs,” an 80s Madonna track, and a lovers rock-sounding reggae track from the early 80s, with a few newer-sounding artists sprinkled in whose music I didn’t find offensive. This is shit you would never hear on American terrestrial radio, which is so bad I never turn it on.

My next step deeper into the app, though, was where I found the interesting stuff. Once I realized the Sounds app archives so much radio programming, I started searching for the music specialty shows. I guess it didn’t occur to me to do this at first because I assumed licensing issues would prevent the most interesting content from being available to me. I remember trying to download the iPlayer app for BBC TV years ago only to find it doesn’t work from a US IP address. Similarly, I remember checking out the podcast feed of Desert Island Discs years ago, only to discover the podcast version expunges all the actual songs. However, all the programming in the Sounds app is there in full with the songs intact.

I immediately discovered a few programs I enjoy, which is already too much to keep up with. I’d heard for years that Marc Riley from the Fall was a radio personality and I was able to check out his show. While it’s probably considered middle of the road for punk types, it feels like comfort food to me, featuring lots of 70s punk and glam rock amongst a broad mix of music. He also has newer bands playing in session (like the Peel Sessions everyone knows) and replays classic BBC sessions. The first episode I listened to re-ran a classic Peel Session from Siouxsie and the Banshees. I also got to check out Iggy Pop’s show, another one I’ve been hearing about for years, and enjoyed that. Iggy’s music selections are a bit like Marc Riley’s—“cool” popular music from the last several decades with some more adventurous stuff sprinkled in—but his show is more focused on the music than Riley’s, where there is a lot of banter and DJ-type antics. There’s also a show by John Peel’s son, Tom Ravenscroft, that I’ve enjoyed, though it seems to be focused almost entirely on electronic music. Ravenscroft also has a program where he invites musicians over to browse his father’s legendary record collection and play tracks from it. I haven’t checked that out yet, but I will soon.

My favorite show I’ve discovered so far is Stuart Maconie’s Freak Zone, a weekly show featuring “two hours of experimental and avant-garde music.” That description will scare away many people, but the show is rarely abrasive. Actually, it’s quite exciting. He plays older tracks from under-the-radar genres like Canterbury folk, Krautrock, prog, modern classical, and free jazz, and new music by artists who push the limits of genre. I expected to like the older stuff more, but I’ve enjoyed the new music Maconie plays. I love that feeling of hearing something you’ve never heard before, and that’s the feeling this show seems to search for. They land on it more often than not.

So yeah, that’s what I’ve been listening to. I feel weird writing my staff pick about a government funded and managed media institution, but fuck it… I am enjoying it. Like many Americans, I gaze longingly across the pond at the UK’s social democracy (if you can call it that), marveling not only at the perks like socialized medicine and decent public radio and television, but the very idea that the government does things to make regular people’s lives a little better. I know the UK and other countries have more than their share of problems, but that mentality seems so foreign from my perspective in the every-person-for-themselves brutality of the United States. Maybe that’s why so much of the BBC’s programming works so well for carrying me off into a gentle, restful slumber.

Rudimentary Peni: Death Church 12” (Sealed Records) Sealed Records has gotten Rudimentary Peni’s first album, Death Church, back into print and the world is rejoicing. Writing a description of Death Church feels a bit like trying to write something about Damaged or Walk Among Us or Never Mind the Bollocks… it’s all but universally heralded as a great album, so what can I add to the conversation? Probably nothing, so I’m not going to try. The album is available on the Sealed Records Bandcamp site and all streaming services, so if you haven’t heard it, it’s easy to rectify that problem. The record will blow your mind. However, those of you who are novices in the world of Rudimentary Peni might wonder why the album’s re-release has gotten so much fanfare. The short version of the story is that Rudimentary Peni is a band that people care about deeply. But why? One thing that separates Rudimentary Peni from most of their underground punk peers is their talent for building an immersive world around their music. There are some bands—Black Flag, Misfits, the Stooges, the Ramones—whose music, lyrics, visual aesthetic, and everything else surrounding the art clicks together so perfectly that it almost seems like a world you can step into. Indeed, many people try, listening to these bands’ music obsessively, trying to dress, talk, and write songs like them. Rudimentary Peni, though far less well known, has a similar thing going on. Rudimentary Peni’s world seems like it was ahead of its time, even better suited to 2022 than 1983, when Death Church came out. Singer Nick Blinko’s engagement with mental health / mental illness in particular seems prescient, since not only has the discourse around mental health become so much bigger in the decades since then, but nowadays it seems like everyone is on some mood-altering drug or another (I’m a Lexapro person, myself). The changing informational and economic landscape has also helped to balloon interest in Rudimentary Peni. As far as I know, Rudimentary Peni had no domestic releases in the US in the 80s and, hence, no promotion. Even in their native England, the band only played live a few times and remained a mysterious presence. The grand digitization of the 21st century has done little to remedy the sense of mystery that surrounds them. (I remember Usman excitedly showing me a radio interview with the band that surfaced on YouTube a few years ago.) Since Rudimentary Peni was pretty hard to find out about and really good, the people who found them in the pre-internet era developed a profound reverence for them. I remember when someone put “Teenage Time Killer” on a mix tape for me when I was a teenager… it sounded so weird, but so interesting, that haunting lead guitar line drawing me in like a siren’s song. On the rare occasions when I would come across one of their records in the years after that, I would always buy without question, exploring the group’s discography haphazardly as I came across the records. I’m certain I heard The Underclass and Archaic well before I ever scored a copy of Death Church. Speaking of which, the internet era has made Rudimentary Peni’s records extremely collectible. Much like G.I.S.M., Rudimentary Peni was a band that was pretty hard to hear before the internet. Once people could hear the music, it made them want the vinyl, but the records had been out of print for years, occasionally appearing as bootlegs but largely unavailable. The value of Rudimentary Peni’s vinyl went through the roof, and over the past few years I’ve seen copies of Death Church sell for hundreds of dollars. It’s unsurprising that someone stepped into that gap in the market, but I’m very glad that it was Sealed Records who did so. Their reissue of Death Church satisfies both the intense fan and the astute record collector, the vinyl having been cut from the original master tapes (it sounds great) and the packaging a meticulous reproduction of the original record’s incredible fold-out poster sleeve. Because what would a Rudimentary Peni record be without a pile of incredible Nick Blinko artwork to feast your eyes on? So, whether you’re a collector who needs something to keep a spot on your shelf warm while you hunt for an original, or you’re just a punk fanatic who wants to experience this landmark record in all its glory, now is the time.