Humble Pie. For Your Love. 1970.

I'm going to have to rethink the whole 'Terry Reid was the best of the Brit blues wailers' frame of mind I've been in for the past few years. Steve Marriott is a fucking superbeast.

It goes without saying, but Humble Pie had one hell of a line-up. Peter Frampton before he was talk-boxing the panties of pre-teens is some kind of treasure.

Fast Bluesy Woman - Tucky Buzzard, 1972.

(Ozzy) Jake E. Lee 198x.

I have seen many things in my life, but never have I seen an axe chop someone's face off in three minutes eighteen seconds. Sure it may be your typical 80's Spandex rock, but you've got to admit...

Funkadelic. Super Stupid. 1971.

When was the last time you got weird? Like wear a diaper and run around the city weird?



Funkadelic was a straight up psychedelic rock outfit. They embody every tenement of "face melting" that exists.

Be My Friend - Free, 1970.

My god, can that motherfucker sing!

Cries From the Midnight Circus - The Pretty Things, 1970?

Bubble Puppy. Hot Smoke & Sassafras. Late 70's.

It has been said that Bubble Puppy was the best band from Texas until ZZ Top blew up. They moved to LA and changed their name to Demian after that. Some really rare shitty footage from a late 70's reunion.



Demian rocks!

Buffalo. Shylock. 1973.

Kind of getting tired of finding bands that totally rock with terrible lead singers. Oh well, this Aussie group is pretty sweet, despite their front man *Haggar'ing the track.

*Haggar - To wreck something awesome by putting your shitty imprint on it. Named after Sammy Haggar.

Scorpions. He's a Woman, She's a Man. 1977.

Down at Georgetown Records today and I picked up the Scorpions debut Lonesome Crow and their 1976 album, In Trance. Both are gems, but that debut album wasn't even released stateside for years because of how hard it rocks. Needless to say, I'm pretty excited about that one, and I even talked the dude down $10 off the price tag. Success!

The dude at the counter had this to say:

"Dude, SCORPS! I used to hate this fucking band when I was a kid. Thought they were soulless. Now I just think they fucking kick all sorts of ass. Fuck! Nice!"

'Nuff said.

ZZ Top-El Diablo. 1980

Time to sprinkle in some dark and plodding with the boogie.

Thin Lizzy. Emerald. 1978

Down from the glen came the marching men
With their shields and their swords
To fight the fight they believed to be right
Overthrow the overlords

To the town where there was plenty
They brought plunder, swords and flame
When they left the town was empty
Children would never play again

From their graves I heard the fallen
Above the battle cry
By that bridge near the border
There were many more to die

Then onward over the mountain
And outwards toward the sea
They had come to claim the emerald
Without it they could not leave

The Other Half. Feathered Fish. 1968.

Another Randy Holden project. He played lead in the Other Half before his stint with Blue Cheer. Here's a hot cover of an Arthur Lee tune. He might possibly be the most underrated axe slinger of his era.

The Music Machine. Mother Nature/Father Earth. 1966.

I was in the midst of shredding my calves on the treadmill when this one hit my ear holes. Stop what you're doing, the environment needs our help, dummies.

Boomerang. Juke it. 1971.

Oooh Weee! Nice find from our man on the ground in Chi-town, Frank.

外道-香り

I really don't know what to call this one... but a comment from YouTube simply says "music video" and it's a fine one at that.

Rust Underground. Endless Struggle. 1969.

This has a certain kick-assery about it. ZORCH!

Family. The Weaver's Answer. Live at the Isle of Wight 1970.

A melter for gnomes, hobbits, and other magical people across all earths. Also, a lone meaty jam from the decidedly fruity Family with Roger Chapman catalogue.

Obolus - Thrones, 2002.

Fleetwood Mac--Oh, Well-1969.

I thought three chicks ruined this band until I found out Lindsey Buckingham was/is a dude-or so he/she alleges.

Visons of Hell - Free, 1968.

Wishbone Ash. The King Will Come. 1976.

An underrated guitar shredder's masterpiece. Pick up the album Argus, circa 1972 for maximum aural carpet bombing.

Blasphemer - Sodom, 1985(?)

Thanks for the heads up on this monster, from former/perpetual Tight Bro, Quitty. Miss you, Blood.

From Quitty:

"The guitarist on "In the Sign of Evil" is Grave Violator... My friend and I had a joke at the time that his brothers were Parking Violator and Personal Space Violator."

Moloch. Helping Hand. 1969

YESSS!! Oh mama, look out now!

JODO-One Night Stand. 1971

I have an alley and this is right up it.

Tear Gas-That's What's Real. 1971

Todd Rungren's first band. What the fuck happened?

Happy Birthday - Ellie Greenwich

Ellie would have turned 70 today. She blew up the Brill Building in the 60's writing such hits as Leader of the Pack and this monster which reportedly put Spector over the edge. Spector paid Ike $20,000 to stay away from the studio during the recording and an additional $22,000 on production, which is probably why he scrimped (with fabulous results) on this promo for the song.

Turn To Stone - Joe Walsh, 1977.

I know I'm not the first one to say it, and I'll fuck a hole in the ground if I am the last . . . Fuck The Eagles.

It was right philanthropic of Joe to lend them a bit of credibility by lighting up one of his old Barnstorm ('72 LP - Get it) tracks at this Eagles show in '77.

Sylvia/Hocus Pocus - Focus, 1972.

Hey, it's fucking Focus.

Hey Grandma - Moby Grape, 1967(?)

Skip's still looking and playing pretty good.

From Wikipedia:

During the recording session of Moby Grape's second album, Wow, in 1968, Spence attempted to break down a bandmate's hotel room door with a fire axe, while under the influence of LSD. Spence's deterioration in New York and the "fire axe incident" are described by bandmate Jerry Miller as follows: "Skippy changed radically when we were in New York. There were some people there that were into harder drugs and a harder lifestyle, and some very weird shit. And so he kind of flew off with those people. Skippy kind of disappeared for a little while. Next time we saw him, he had cut off his beard,[8] and was wearing a black leather jacket, with his chest hanging out, with some chains and just sweating like a son of a gun. I don't know what the hell he got a hold of, man, but it just whacked him. And the next thing I know, he axed my door down in the Albert Hotel.[9] They said at the reception area that this crazy guy had held an axe to the doorman's head." [10]

As described by bandmate Peter Lewis, it appears that both Jerry Miller and bandmade Don Stevenson were targets of Spence: "We had to do (the album) in New York because the producer (David Rubinson) wanted to be with his family. So we had to leave our families and spend months at a time in hotel rooms in New York City. Finally I just quit and went back to California. I got a phone call after a couple of days. They'd played a Fillmore East gig without me, and Skippy took off with some black witch afterward who fed him full of acid. It was like that scene in The Doors movie. He thought he was the anti-Christ. He tried to chop down the hotel room door with a fire axe to kill Don (Stevenson) to save him from himself. He went up to the 52nd floor of the CBS building where they had to wrestle him to the ground. And Rubinson pressed charges against him. They took him to The Tombs (and then to Bellevue) and that's where he wrote Oar. When he got out of there, he cut that album in Nashville. And that was the end of his career. They shot him full of Thorazine for six months. They just take you out of the game."

Telephone Blues - The Rats, 1969.

That's Mick Ronson of the Spiders From Mars chewing through the guitar cable.

Ramblin' Rose - MC5, 1970.

Brother Wayne on falsetto and lead guitar. Can I cat an 'Amen'?

Coven. Dignitaries of Hell. 1969.

Once thought to be the diabolical soundtrack to the Tate-La Bianca murders, Coven were considered the first of the doom/goth groups shredding stateside. Rolling Stone magazine even called Sabbath "an English version of Coven."

This song,“Dignitaries of Hell,” accurately describes the demons of the dark arts and their respective ranks and habits. Pretty serious Ghostbusters shit, dudes.

Jinx Dawson, the blonde fox lead singer, has quite the back story herself. From Wikipedia:

Jinx Dawson was a native of Indianapolis, Indiana born on a Friday the 13th (they said it was Jan 13, 1950). The difficult delivery of twins, one dead in the womb, was performed by a Dr. Jinks, so her model mother named her Jinx. She began studying opera and the occult, following in her family's secret society footsteps. She, Ross, and Osborne formed Coven in Chicago in the late 1960s.[1] In 1967 to 1968 they toured on concert bills with Jimmy Page's Yardbirds, the Alice Cooper band, and Vanilla Fudge, among many others. Jinx began and ended each Coven concert with the sign of the horns, being the first to introduce this hand sign into rock pop culture.

Sounds like my kind of gal.

Flied Egg. Guide me to the Quietness. 1971.

Debut from the Japanese face incinerators, Flied Egg.

Read Julian Cope totally dress these dudes down in his review here.

Warhorse. Ritual. 1971.

Cocklewood Monster - Silver Metre, 1970.

Um, Casey . . . Do you realize how close to extinction the human race was in 1970? The fact that a Blue Cheer guitarist teamed up with Jeff Becks drummer could have gotten heavy enough to create a black hole. I guess it's a thing they added a pinch of Jefferson Airplane as a buffering agent.

Denny Kills It . . . .

Dude went on to write software. I have no doubt that his code is clean.

Make It One Day -George Brigman & Split, 1980.

Slowdive - When The Sun Hits,1994

That is alot of guitar.

Prisoner (mono version) - Peter Kaukonen, 1972.

Randy Holden. Fruit & Icebergs. 1969.

Holy shit, this is so brutal. This is the guy that replaced Leigh Stephens in Blue Cheer. DOOMY!

"He's a good candidate for selection as the great unknown 1960s rock guitar hero. No other American guitarist was as skilled at creating the kind of sustain-heavy, snaky guitar lines pioneered by Jeff Beck in the Yardbirds. His recordings with the Fender IV, Sons of Adam, Ugly Things the Other Half, Blue Cheer and as a solo artist don't only contain some feverishly innovative playing."

'Nuff said.

Leigh Stephens. Another Dose of Life. 1969.

Leigh Stephens melted skulls for a little band called Blue Cheer before jumping across the pond and diddling with some well established Brits. Here's one with Mick Waller and Nicky Hopkins from the original Jeff Beck Group. This album has a lot more light and shade than you would expect from the Blue Cheer riff lord, but it rules nonetheless.

Eric Burdon and War. Tobacco Road. 1970.

Beggars Opera. Raymonds Road. 1971.

Ricky Gardiner's skillful string slaughter sniffs of Moroccan couscous. Pretty worldly for a Scottish dude. So worldly he played for Bowie on the Low album and Iggy Pop on Lust for Life. That's a run worth a kilt lift or two. Riff on dude.

Be Careful With a Fool - Johnny Winter, 1970.

Purpose of When - John McLaughlin, 1970.

Ted Nugent - Stranglehold

Truthfully, Ted Nugent is the only man in the world who can get away with doing this. Not saying it's right or wrong, I'm just saying.

Enjoy this 8 minute epic hymn by way of Midnight Special.

The Byrds-Chestnut Mare-1970. German Television.

If not for the drummer, this jam might have just completely fell apart. Nice rolling bass lines though. And way to get monstrously ripped before your appearance on German Television, dudes. That's how I roll, too.

Show announced! Crow / Uriah Heep - Medina Entertainment Center, Fri. Nov. 5, 2010.

The troglodytes emerging from their stalactated lairs will be lining up for double shots of molten lead. This show is going to be that heavy.

Dust. Thusly Spoken. 1972.

You dudes into Dust? You are now.

MAN-Daughter of the Fireplace. 1970.

I guess they had an entire album banned in the UK due to a "simulated" female orgasm in one of the songs. Judging by their desperado looks and dangerous licks, I'm betting that orgasm was as real as the itch in my crotch.

Atomic Rooster. A Spoonful of Bromide Helps The Pulse Rate Go Down. 1972.

Imagine for a moment that you're the hotel maid assigned to clean the rooms of the respective members of Atomic Rooster. After haplessly assessing the carnage, you compose yourself. You can do this. You wake the medicated groupies, you dump the mountainous ashtray, you pour out the last foul slosh of bong water. Miraculously, you're going to be just fine. You can actually see carpet through technicolor vomit and bile. You feel accomplished, if not a bit nauseous.

Then you find yourself face-to-face with a raccoon sized hair ball in the shower drain. You drop your dust pan, and solemnly admit defeat.

Phil Lynott. Fool's Gold. 1976.

I'm not exactly sure why Phil is rocking without the the Lizzy's in this televised performance, but this song is probably my favorite TL songs and it's the only semi-live rendition I could find.

There's a weird Spinal Tap vibe in the opening that deserves extra face melter points.

Jethro Tull. Cross-eyed Mary. 1976.

There are only a few bands that can out geek Rush, and Jethro Tull is definitely one of them. The interesting thing is that if you shed the fruity frontman/busker/flute poof, this band really fucking shreds.

Happy Birthday, Buddy! Take it off Him and Put it on Me - Buddy Miles, 1969.

Pretty Things. Death. 1969

In memory of Jake's Pretty Things vinyl that that little bastard dog Harmon destroyed.

Descent into the Maelstrom - Radio Birdman, 1977.

Canned Heat - On the Road Again, 1973

Mary Had a Little Lamb - Buddy Guy, Jack Bruce, Buddy Miles, 1969.

Moses - Changes, 1969 (?)

Danish. 1969. No video needed.

My Sorrow - Chico Magnetic Band, 1973.

The Meters. Look-Ka-Py Py/Jungle Man. 1974.

Wait a second. Dr. John had a TV show?

Sure 'nuff 'n Yes I do - Captain Beefheart and The Magic Band, 1968.

Knee deep in Beefheart Through The Eyes of Magic, John "Drumbo" French's amazingly detailed account of the entire Magic Band history including a deep, deep dive into the pre-pre-history of most of the players and the entire Antelope Valley scene in the late 50's / early 60's.

These dudes are no slouches. I'd be hard pressed to find another pack of musicians as talented and dedicated as these.

It blows me away, what we've done to our children's creativity and work ethic, by providing our kids with every gimmick and knick-knack they should have a whim for. It seems like the impetus for every one of these guys was "We lived in a town that was 7 blocks long in the middle of the desert, 90 miles, there was nothing interesting other than what we created for ourselves."

Fuck all you parents and your soccer practices, Nick Jr. and cellphone-leeching tweeners. You're neutering your ofspring and killing this country.

I'm gonna Grow Fins.

Wring That Neck - Deep Purple, 1969.

Aptly named. Blackmore kills.

Jeff Beck. She's a Woman. 1974.

For my money, Jeff Beck is second only to Hendrix in "best axe slinger ever" hierarchy. That's a bold statement, made by a stone-cold serious Superbeast.

Blue Oyster Cult--Godzilla. NYC. 1980.

Ray Harryhausen, eat your heart out!

UFO. Prince Kajuku.1971.

Turpentine Moan, Canned Heat, 1969.

Bear.

Johnny Guitar Watson. Mister Magic. 1977.

Here's a little Grover Washington diddy from one of the most underrated of the blues/funk players. He's also the dude who was rumored to be a real life pimp, and the guy who hooked Sly and Rick James on freebase.

I prefer to reference the good times though. This dude had been a Gangster of Love since the mid-50's. He didn't play with a pick, and his jams were always stuck in a stone cold groove.

From Wikipedia:

In a 1994 interview with David Ritz for liner notes to The Funk Anthology, Watson was asked if his 1980 song "Telephone Bill" anticipated rap music. "Anticipated?" Watson replied. "I damn well invented it!... And I wasn't the only one. Talking rhyming lyrics to a groove is something you'd hear in the clubs everywhere from Macon to Memphis. Man, talking has always been the name of the game. When I sing, I'm talking in melody. When I play, I'm talking with my guitar. I may be talking trash, baby, but I'm talking".

See My Jumper Hanging on The Line, R. L. Burnside, 1978.

Tip O the hat to Dangerous Minds

Soft Machine. Tale of Taliesin. 1976.

Etheridge can't hold Holdsworth's jock when comes to OCD nerd/genius noodling, but he still shreds pretty fucking hard.

Naked City - Osaka Bondage. 1990.

Iron Maiden. The Prisoner. 1982.

Birthday jam!

Blood, Sweat and Tears. Hip Pickles. 1973.

Strap on the feedbag!

The Newgate Wind - The Bevis Frond, 1987.

Nick Saloman is The Bevis Frond. Aside from the drums he wrote/played/recorded/released a rash of records on Woronzow from 1986 to 1991 and they are all brilliant. He is the black rider on most British Guitar Gods lists and I think these two tracks do a good job of showcasing why. If you can find it, check out his collaboration with Twink from The Pink Fairies and The Pretty Things, then check your exhausted synapses into Bellvue.

Gemini Machine - The Bevis Frond, 1988.

Mother's Finest. Fire. 1976

I barely remember when silk scarves were super cool, but I do remember some of the sweet jams that were ripped whilst wearing them. Nothing beats a speedy funky bottom, with a spit shine of guitar face splitting. Throw in some gospel "raise the roofers" and you got a bootie mover that will turn your average suburban high-school music dork into a freaked out albino fret wizard.

The Bible - D.R. Hooker, 1972.

Is there a wildlife preserve someplace in Kansas where burned-out old Jesus freaks roam free with fuzzed out amplifiers strapped to their backs, Saving souls by shredding their message with glorified licks into the Western wind? I like to think so.

Black Widow. Come to the Sabbat. 1970

Don't fear the flute, my friends. Come to the Sabbath, Satan's there!

JB's. Catfish Collins. 1971.

It was rare that James allowed his guitar players to shred like this, but Catfish Collins got his chance and just ripped it. Bootsy on bass filling out the bottom end. Furious.

Ramatam. Ask Brother Ask. 1972

The sound quality on this is so poor it almost isn't worth posting. That said, I just found some Ramatam on vinyl after searching for a while. It pretty much shreds. Peep this line-up.

Mitch Mitchell - Drums
April Lawton - Guitar
Mike Pinera - Vocals, Guitar

Mitch needs no introduction.

April Lawton shredded so furiously that she was rumored to be a transexual in her time. She was also hailed as the female Hendrix. Tranny or not, she's got some serious chops.

Mike Pinera is a well traveled face melter, just check out his resume: Blues Image, Iron Butterfly, New Cactus, dude even ripped with Alice Cooper in the early 80's.

Their debut album was produced by none other than Tom Dowd. Pretty heady shit. Check out their tunes here.

I saw a Killin' - Josefus, 1970.

I'd go to church every Sunday and confess every sin I'd ever contemplated if God should find it in his infinite wisdom to get up off his ass and drop the first two Josefus records in my collection. Then I'd kill my confessant and drag his urine soaked corpse behind my car for a run across North Dakota listening to this track through blown out speakers.

The Sails of Charon - The Scorpions, 1977.

Oh, Motherfuck, Yes!

Memphis Soul Stew - King Curtis & The Kingpins.

Jeff Beck Group. Plynth (Water Down the Drain). 1969.

Jeff Beck.
Ronnie Wood.
Nicky Hopkins.
Tony Newman.
Rod Stewart.

Not bad. Not bad at all. Beck-Ola is probably one of my top-5 all-time albums.

Rainbow. Gates of Babylon. 1978.

They don't make glass bongs big enough to fully comprehend the impact this song made on stoners in the late 70's. I've said it before, but everything these dudes recorded was like a shopping experience at Spencer's Gifts. Like hanging out at the BMX track in St. Croix Beach. Like getting kidnapped by a conversion van full of D&D playing satanists while drinking Crazy Horse malt liquor at the High Bridge. This represents the halcyon days. The times of yore.

Blossom Toes. Wait a Minute. 1969.

I love when I stumble across quotes like this when doing research on bands:

If Only For A Moment saw the band taking a noticeably heavier and rockier direction...

Noticeably heavier and rockier indeed.

Wishbone Ash. Warrior. 1973.

This has just the right amount of squeedle, and prog Celtic pastoral to reserve a coveted spot in the dual guitar diddlin' hall of fame. Not quite "safe word" worthy, but good enough for some quality headphone attention.

Alan Parsons Project - I Wouldn`t Want To Be Like You (1977)

Granicus. Bad Talk. 1973.

Cleveland rocks!

Death. Keep on Knocking.1975.

Black dudes from Detroit, playing punk before punk. The Motor City never ceases to amaze with its bounty of face melting curiosities. Thank you almighty Lords of Riffage.

Props to Mike for turning me on to these superbeasts.

I Can See Inside Your Head - Orang Utan, 1971.

Sleeping Sickness (Pt. 2) - JPT Scare Band, 1973.

Steely Dan - Reelin' In The Years-Whistle Test 1978

FOR THE SUPERBEAST/SUPERGURNEY

The Open Mind. Magic Potion. 1969.

I've been imbibing in this particular Magic Potion. It's called Boundary Bay IPA. After about 4 of them I can't remember walking home from the bar.

Born With a Curse - The Wipers, 1978.

CSN&Y. Down by the River. 1969

This is the same show they ripped through a wicked version of Mr. Soul. It's on youtube but the audio has been disabled. This should do just fine.

Youngbloods. Ride The Wind. 1970.

I can't find a version of the Youngbloods playing Sugar Babe, but I did find this. Ride the Wind bros.

Murder me now > A The Eagles Post. Joe Walsh's Life Threatened!

From (God help me) TMZ:

"Eagles" guitarist Joe Walsh claims a man in his 70s has threatened to shoot him dead ... this according to new court documents.

But the septuagenarian suspect doesn't seem like a fragile old man -- Walsh says the old guy already attacked his personal assistant with a block of wood.

It's all laid out in legal documents filed by Walsh in which the rock legend claims -- Nassar Adhoot -- who owns land near Walsh -- trespassed on his property earlier this month.

In the docs, filed in L.A. County Superior Court, Walsh claims his P.A. approached Adhoot ... but the old guy attacked him and then shouted, "You tell Joe Walsh I'm going to kill him. I'm going to shoot him."

Walsh says he was so freaked out -- he filed for a restraining order to get protection for himself, his wife, his assistant, his maid and his gardener.

We called Adhoot for comment ... but we were told he was taking a nap at the time.

DISCLAIMER!!!!!!!!!!!!: Now, in all honestly I love Joe Walsh. . . and he played with the Eagles. Now, while I like the, pardon the pun, Eagalitarian spirit of the Eagles, Henley should be selling Real Estate in LA and Glen Fry should be shaving and oiling himself in an LA Fitness bathroom in Hell.

Joe's sublime doodleage is the only aspect of the Eagles's catalog that almost makes them credible.

Want to argue with me? Listen to "In The City" on The Warriors soundtrack (the original all Joe recording) followed the version released by the Eagles. Don't begin to try to suggest that the Eagle's version is better until you are squirrel-cheeking my balls.

Requiem of Confusion - Shinki Chen, 1972.

Generic CockRock - Doesn't Matter

There are few things a man can truly enjoy in life:

- Hair
- Women
- K-Mart

This video combines all three.

Elf. Gambler, Gambler. 1972.

R.I.P. Ronnie. May your devil horns ride high for always.

Suzie Sunshine - Buffalo, 1972.

Radio Clash - The Clash, 1981

Form left field, I know, but an undeniable jam nonetheless.

The Bad Seeds - Taste of the Same

Pretty dark stuff for Teen Time on Channel 3 in Corpus Christi. Some nice 60's twang though. I'll bet they were doing plenty of twangin at all those hops they were playing.

The Rattles. You Can't Have Sunshine Everyday-1971

Someone taught that old sea hag how to sing like a rock and roller. A kraken, perhaps?

Amon Duul ii. Between the Eyes. 1970

This one turned my beard hairs white.

Santana. Jungle Strut. 1971.

It's mind-boggling to me that Schon and Rolie could leave and start the world's lamest band after this. How did they live with themselves?

Frank Zappa and the Mothers. Call Any Vegetable. 1970.

Hell of a line-up.

Whipping Post - Allman Bros, 1970.

"Good lord I feel like I'm dyin' "

Led Zeppelin - The Battle of Evermore (19xx)

Demian. Coming. 1970.

Wormhole!!!!!!!

Jimmy Page. White Summer/Black Mountainside. 1970.

40 years ago today.

Holy Moses - Atilla, 1970.

Wikipedia does a pretty good job of summing this one up:

Attila was the name of a band featuring a young Billy Joel. Billy was a member of a band called The Hassles; he and the drummer, Jon Small, broke away from the Hassles and formed Attila in 1969. The instrumentation was mostly organ and drums, with Billy Joel also handling the bass lines with a keyboard, like the Doors' Ray Manzarek. Their creative partnership ended in 1970 when Joel allegedly ran off with Small's wife, Elizabeth,[1] although this did not end their collaborations, as Small produced Joel's концерт video as well as the "live at Shea stadium" performance

They released only one album, Attila, in 1970, later reissued by CBS Inc in 1985. Attila is often selected by critics and other music journalists as one of the worst rock albums of all time, but also receives a significant amount of praise from people who normally would not listen to Billy Joel. Joel himself has gone on record as describing the album as "psychedelic bullshit".[1]

Ry Cooder-Dark End of the Street. 1977.

Sometimes I just need a slow jam, my rocking chair, and a pocketful of smarties.

Alice Cooper. Is it my Body. 1971.

I've been clear of my obsessive Alice Cooper addiction for about 8 months now, but I had this waiting in the hopper for the special day when I needed another dose of Detroit. Any bros wanna go in on some of those silver space dude suits?

The Phlorescent Leech & Eddie - Feel Older Now on muzu.tv

Happy 63'rd Birthday to Mark Volman aka Eddie.

Illegal, Immoral & Fattening via Dangerous Minds/

Blind Faith. Had to Cry Today. 1969.

This is the first and only time you'll find me posting a jam by Slowhand. That said, this a Stevie Winwood masterpiece.

The Nice. America. 1968.

British psyche freaks stabbing organ keys with knives in an ode to our very own stomping grounds. Sounds like a party.

Scorpions. Speedy's Coming. 1974.

The Scorps shredded epidermis pretty early on in the 70's. I wonder what the guitar gods of the era thought of Uli's devout whammy assassin riffage? Methinks the lads doth protest too much.

Commence magma face meltdown...

Masters Apprentices. Future of Our Nation. 1971.

Holy mother of Kubs, these Aussie heshers sure know how to fiddle with my knobs. This apocalyptic prophesy would look perfect embroidered on a black light poster in Mancaster's bong basement. Let's ponder the future of our nation dudes!

Buddy Guy-Let Me Love You Baby. 1967.

Buddy Guy is a stone cold ripper. If he had decided to pick up swords as a younger man instead of guitars he would have chopped off our heads and thrown them into a den of panthers and howler monkeys long ago.

Saint Vitus-Saint Vitus. Dec. 20, 1984. London Ontario Canada

Saint Vitus opening for Black Flag. Punkers, speedfreaks, metalheads, whisky drunks. Everyone's there man. Wish I was.

The Human Expression. Love at Psychedelic Velocity.

Baby, I'll never land again. It's just too sick down there.

The Stampeders. Wild Eyes. 1973.

These crazy Canucks put out an album called Rubes, Dudes & Rowdies which immediately preserves a slot for them in the Face Melter Hall of Fame. Check out the double neck diddlin' on this one. Way to keep your sticks on the ice dudes.

Frijid Pink. House of the Rising Son. 1971.

Jesus, what was in the water in Detroit? I mean other than petrol and heavy mercury counts. Whatever it was, it produced some heavy duty spaced out rockers.

Sea of Nightmares - Peacepipe, 1970.

Let's smoke, my brothers and sisters.

Medley - Captain Beyond, 1972.

This skull splitting set should tide you swinehounds over until The Chupacabros are back from Mexico. Strap yourselves in. It's a long one.

Mandrill - Mandrill, 1971.

Rainbow '65 pts. 1 & 2 - Gene Chandler, 1965.

Bask in the lamentations of the women in this crowd as they get there eggs scrambled by The Duke of Earl's delivery of this gem. I imagine minds and ovaries going "Scanners" leaving the coloseum basted with a thick layer of panting human debris. I would imagine the spattering of carrion on lens is to blame for there being no film footage from this show.

Sir Douglas Quintet. Nuevo Laredo. 1969.

Ol' Mancaster and I are shoving off to the beautiful island of Cozumel to pollute our guts with beer and tacos for a week. Nothing but flip flops and tank tops for this ultimate party dude.

Wlaking on Hot Coals - Rory Gallagher, 1973.

Like one can get enough Rory.

Bootsy Collins. I'd Rather Be With You. 1976.

Not a dry pair of panties in the house.

Epitaph-Early Morning (1972)

After Klaus belts out that death knell a minute or two in you know this is something special.

Robin Trower - Too Rolling Stoned 1975

The Eagle Never Hunts The Fly - The Bonniwell Music Machine, 1967

"One glove, Motherfuckers! We're gonna wear one glove!"
"Why's that, man?"
"'cause the licks are so hot!"
"Why don't we wear two gloves then?"
....
"Pack up your shit, dillhole."

Ozzy Osbourne. I Don't Know. 1981.

Hey bros, Spring is in the air. It's time to roll down your windows and crank this fucker all the way up 'til yer Rockford Fosgates sound gassy. This is the soundtrack to the Arcade parking lot, the smoking corner and the lunch hour dash to the scenic overlook all rolled into one. This is the type of blitzkrieg guitar wizardry you feel deep down in your old balls. The kind of shit that makes you drop your blazing hot proto pipe under your seat after buying fireworks in some po-dunk, shit hole Wisconsin town.

See ya at the high bridge fuckers!

Ike & Tina Turner. I've Been Loving You Too Long. 1969

I've been searching high and low for the perfect Ike and Tina clip for a while now. This might be it.

Behold the Ikettes; the back-up singers that all other backup singers shall henceforth be judged against.

Witness the sweaty Miss Turner engage in explicit love-making with her mic and stand.

Watch in horror as Ike sends the creepy meter through the roof.

Bonus: Tina's nipples are featured fairly prominently throughout.

Colosseum II. Inquisition. 1978.

Gary Moore's blistering answer to Maclaughlin's Mahivishnu Orchestra. Shredding minds like shrapnel.

Small Faces. Tin Soldier. 1968.

"I, I'm a little tin soldier that wants to jump into your fire. You are a look in your eye, a dream passing by in the sky..."

I've been a prisoner of the "aura" for the past week, dudes. Laid up. Feet elevated. Trying to keep from sawing my head off with a dull pizza wheel. The only thing that gives me solace is turning the lights off and digging the dusty webs for face melting jams.

Tiger B. Smith. Tiger Rock. 1974

I smell the unmistakable scent of krautrock. Let's open another can!

Van der Graaf Generator. Darkness. 1970.

Wrap your head around this one for a minute. There's something cookin'. Doggone it, these Krauts are weaving a hell of a psychedelic tapestry here.

The Band - King Harvest 1970 - Long Black Veil 1970

Hell Hound - Sir Lord Baltimore, 1970.

Hey, Beast, as long as we're making Christmas lists, if you can find me a vinyl copy of this mother that hasn't self-immolated, I will provide you with the skins of 20 virgins.

To simply quote the poster of this vid: Time to hit you bitches with some 1970 ass kicking.

Pentagram. Be Forewarned. 1972.

I've been looking high and low for a live video rendition of this or the Macabre version (earlier variation of Pentagram). No dice.

This will have to suffice face melters, some serious early 70's doom for your suicidal tendencies. Be Forewarned.

P.s. If anyone cops this on vinyl, I'll offer my first born.

Skid Row. An Awful Lot of Woman.

Legend has it that Gary Moore bought Peter Green's Les Paul right before Green went off the deep end. That axe must be carrying some dark juju because this jam is about as unholy as they come. FUCK.......ME.

Rare Earth. Get Ready. 1973.

"Wanna play hide and seek, get ready....."


The soundtrack to the Mayor's murderous rampage?

Bolan, John, Starr - Children of the Revolution '74

War. Me and Baby Brother. 1974.

So tight, yet so loose. The hallmark of an amazing live band.

Every one of these bad motherfuckers could melt your face with their own chops, but instead they chose to come together to form a Voltron of funk so potent the seeds of thousands were prematurely popped on corduroy boot-cut-slacks nationwide.

Pacific Gas & Electric. Are you Ready? 1970.

A funky little ditty that has kept me moving all morning. Check out the riffage at 2:08. Not the most skilled face singeing slingin' in the world, but it still rips.

Budgie. Breadfan. '73!

Right up my alley parked next to my moss-covered bong.

Tangerine Dream. Fly and Collision of Comas Sola. 1971.

Too far. Too damn far.

Camel. Lunar Sea. The early 70's.

I was digging through the Rock section at Hymie's. Some longhair was standing next to me. I was in the G's and he was in the C's. He had a golf ball sized hickey on his neck. He poked me and said "Check out all these Camel records!" He had about eight of them. He checked out while I kept shopping. Before I left I scoped the C's. He left me a Camel album! Life can be pretty cool sometimes.