The Vengeful Turntable

Flashback to fall 2017:
There rests a large cardboard box in the middle of the living room in the House of VV.  Inside, a fancy new turntable ordered from Needle Doctor in Minnesota.  With the VVers having a busy week, and needing to rearrange their current electronics arrangement before setting up the new player, the box sat untouched for a few days.

Vengeful spookiness ensued.

Artist rendition of actual real imagined events

On the first night, the VVer's still-functioning basic model Audio-Technica turntable decided to make its voice heard.  It is important to preface this with the fact that since 2010 this AT has been the main platter spinner in the House of VV.  During that time it has gotten a ton of action, 100% reliable, aside from needing the occasional adjustment when the speed control got a little out of whack.  So what happened with the AT on this night you ask?  The tone arm refused to lower to the play the record.  You read that right.  The player refused to play.  Usually the process is simply to push the start button and the AT does all of the work, but not on this night.  The arm would raise, move to hover over the vinyl, and sit there thinking about lowering for a few seconds... then return to the cradle.  No joke.  It did this four times before the VVers applied some coaxing, lowering it freehand.  The VVers took note that it was behaving strangely and moved on.

While playing Soundgarden EP, Fopp, on the second night that the new box sat in the living room, there was a moment the VVers turned to each other with eyebrows raised.  "Oh! It's must be set to 45, the wrong speed!" (typical activity in the House of VV).  Upon pushing the button on the AT to change back to 33, it sped up even more, then equalized.  Apparently it was already at 33, then decided to push itself to 45.  It was definitely wrong and after toggling the buttons an extra time it played correctly at 33.  VVer1 could tell the song was initially wrong because "I was dancing--funk dancing--and Soundgarden is not that kinda band."  The speeds were strange, but it did add some extra fun juice to the synths on the f'ed-up "Fopp (Fucked Up Heavy dub remix)."  A happy off-speed accident?  More likely a message of warning that the house machine was not amused.

On the third night, the turntable chose to be extra well-behaved.  While the VVers were listening to an LP from Mr. Chuck Berry, the record had a skipping groove.  As VVer2 got up from playing Settlers of Catan with the neighbors, and before she made it to the turntable, the needle decided to fix itself declaring: "Look at me, I'm a great turntable!"  "Keep me!"  Thinking that everything was ok, the House of VV went back to the seemingly normal game of Catan, but as it turns out VVer1 was clearly possessed by the indomitable spirit of the turntable.  He spent the rest of the night cheating with total disregard for the rules of the board game while the old AT player spun merrily along.  Curse!

This was the last straw.  The VVers committed to setting up the new player that weekend, and with the viewing of several goofy YouTube videos, were able to get it into action.  "The tables have turned!"
"You've had your turn Mr. Bond!"

It's also possible that VVer1's Dead Cross album was the original source of the curse.  Obviously, right?  It arrived at the same time as the new turntable and with an evil glow in the dark cover and blood splattered vinyl too.  Listen to even one foreboding track and you may very well be convinced that this LP is in fact the origin of the trouble.  Impossibly fast, fierce, and eerie with the ear splitting vocals of Mike Patton (Faith No More), annihilating percussion from Dave Lombardo (Slayer), mangled mayhem guitars from Mike Crain (Retox), and pounding  bass from Justin Pearson (Retox, The Locust, and Head Wound City); these Dead Cross guys are just plain mean.

Flash forward to present(ish) day:
End of story, right?  Wrong.  The new table had all sorts of wingdings and gewgaws that needed adjusting to exact precision.  This took months to get right.  YouTube was helpful.  The instructions and home page of the new Pro-Ject player had some helpful tidbits a well.  But "months" is not an exaggeration.  While everything is going well these days, it had been a mental leap to have to manage something that used to so easily and effectively manage itself.  Beware!

Double flash forward to the year 2076:
From their record-shaped flying saucer, the VVers activate their teleportation device and empty out their storage unit finding the AT!  It has grown horns and acquired a trident, but still sounds great when played.  The VVers of the future applaud the VVers of the past for deciding to keep the vengeful turntable around for the next generation of those possessed with the vinyl hobby.

Rocka Rolla

Judas Priest - Rocka Rolla - 1974

First riff of the album makes you think "Here Comes One Bad Motherfucker."  That theme continues throughout.

Rocka Rolla is the first album from speed metal heroes Judas Priest.  It's not what you expect if you've even listened to their hits.  This album is mostly not fast and more reminiscent of Black Sabbath than what lay down the road.  It has a general lack of the brag-and-swagger style of later material, a more introspective tone.

Lead song "One for the Road" has guitars that are jagged and crusty at the same time.  Similar to punching your fist through a pane of glass and what comes after.  The feel of this one is angular and steeped in funk.

Title track "Rocka Rolla" starts off promising enough with a dark, down-tuned, heavy guitar; yet another good lead-off riff.  Without the words it would be far less corny.  The musicianship has some nice twists and turns; it's catchy enough that you'll be humming it later in the week.  It's classic rock pumped up by Halford's power pipes.

"Winter" sounds like it leapt straight off of an early Soundgarden album (but in the time-continuum, the opposite is likely true).  Interestingly, this song is referred to as a "cover" as it was written and presumably recorded by the band's original leader/vocalist Al Atkins.  Penned before he left the band (they weren't making any money yet, he needed to support his young family so he decided to go get a job in the straight world) and replaced by operatic howler Rob Halford.  The song creeps in with a swirling low-end whisper of vocals that rockets into a grunged out Black Sabbath-y death-riff and Halford yelping towards the end of the world.  All promising and over far too quickly as drums take over and all alone set the somber rock tone for the remaining guitar flurry.  In comes Halford again belting line after line about the suffering of a seeming homeless wanderer.  It's over quickly and we're left with "Deep Freeze," which nicely circles back to the beginning echoey entrance of "Winter."  This section sounds like a slow motion buzz-saw fed through a blender.  It could easily be the guttural grunting and huffing of a savage beast.   Spent, it then leads to the cooler and more mellow "Winter Retreat" which would fit in easily on Pink Floyd's Meddle.  It's a brief repast that serves to heighten the skanky-metal touch of "Cheater," the last portion of this song suite which opens with yet another dark riff.  Hail Satan!!!  Ok, not really, but it sounds evil, so he might have been involved.  Halford doubles up here on muscular vocals and some keen harmonica.  Guitarist K.K. Downing does his level-best to throw in quick and nasty licks at just the right spots.  It's inspired blues metal of the highest order.

"We're never satisssFIED!"  Some juicy lyrics and a pummeling bass make "Never Satisfied" one of the strongest tracks on the album.  Very reminiscent of T. Rex's The Slider from two years prior.  It's a simple song that encapsulates the potential Judas Priest to come.  Coming soon to an arena near you.

The bluesy "Run of the Mill" sounds at times like a melancholy Floyd tune.  At 8:30 it is the longest track on the album and this is a good thing.  The patient unveiling of all the various tempo and instrumentational shifts is rewarding.  As it slowly churns on, it becomes more sad and evil.  The mournful cadence, searching guitars, and Halford's yearning vocals all come together beautifully.  Psychedelic guitars and bass interweave bringing you into a cathartic release of operatic yowling from Halford (these are not the proper words to do it justice).  You owe it to yourself to check it out as nobody makes sounds like this guy.  He is simply soul crushing as he hits those high notes; hits them through your skull.  And you will like it.

This can only be followed up by Halford doing something completely opposite than soul-crushing falsettos by dropping it down a few octaves in "Dying to Meet You."  Another dark and nasty one?  Yes.  The tune is pretty downbeat, but halfway through, the song seems to end.  Instead it busts out into a more speedy full on double-guitar riff.  This mid-point tempo shift makes it a very strange track with the beginning and end totally unrelated.

"Caviar and Meths" is brief and you have to wonder; where is the rest of it?  Apparently there is fifteen minutes more to hear, just not on this record.  One of several reasons that the band stated they were disappointed with how the record company handled this release.  Not knowing this stuff you might just shrug at the last song on the album.

Jury's out as to the connection between the bottle cap cover art and the actual music.  C'mon, it's not that clever a connection: Rocka-Rolla -- Coca-Cola.  Seems like the 1987 re-issue cover with an in-flight monster dropping bombs more appropriately fits the music. VVer #1 had a video game in the 90's with the same cover art.  Neat-o!

Reviews of this record have been pretty middle of the road, but both VVers could not disagree more.  Sure, it's not what they became to sound like and there are some moments that could stand some polish/remastering.  Ultimately though the musicianship and raw talent on display here far outweighs any of that poo-pooing.  Bravo.  Twelve stars.

The Case of the Soundgarden Vinyl

Some wisdom from a newbie---
Written by Jeremy R. NYC 2012


Four albums and seven songs ago, the Vinyl Vagabonds schooled me in the joys of spinning the black circle.
Listening to their vinyl records, I heard beats, rhythms, and melodies I never knew existed in my favorite songs.  Songs I thought I knew so well!
I became a changed man that weekend. CDs were dead to me. The era of Vinyl had begun.

I bought a turntable, two speakers, a receiver, and some plugs.
Now all I coveted were some of my favorite albums on wax.
After an internet search of record stores in the area, I found a half dozen were a subway ride away.
Great!
I got my wallet and my want list, and set out the front door.
Tally-go!

After searching a few stores I discovered most of the LPs I craved were either out-of-print or hardly pressed at all.  Lame-o.
I couldn't find anything from my list. I searched high. I searched low.
My hopes dashed, I prepared to shuffle home empty handed when...
Eureka!
I found the mighty Soundgarden's studio album Badmotorfinger still in the plastic!
Wow, one of my favorite records from 1991. Too good to be true!
Without a moments hesitation I plunked down my cash for the LP and eagerly headed to home base.

The good stuff

I returned back to my place still excited by my find, when something caught my eye...
The album jacket appeared new; right out of the printing plant. It didn't look over 20 years old.  Not only that but the art seemed a hair fuzzy, not 100% clear to the naked eye.
There was a sticker on the cover that said "Made In Holland".
Something was definitely fishy....
Then it struck me-
Was I possibly holding a bootleg, an unofficial pressing of the record?  I'd had some experience with bootlegs in the past, many of which were from Italy.  Those boots were entirely concerts and unreleased material that the record labels were sitting on.  This was one of my favorite albums, available in any record shop!  Why would it be bootlegged?

I removed the plastic, and pulled it out of its paper sleeve so I could further inspect my purchase.
Hmmm....
The album felt heavy (a good sign because I heard that the cheap stuff is usually pressed on thin vinyl).
I checked out the center label stickers.
It had the "A & M Records" logo, printing information, and the sticker looked sharp and official.
Was I just being a doubter? I began to change my mind; this could be the real deal after all! 
One way to know for sure; lay down that crooked arm, and drop a needle on it...
AND....
I'm happy to say the vinyl sounded AMAZING!  Every Cornell yelp, Thayil crunch, Shepherd baseline, and Cameron crash right where it should be.  Soundgarden-ing richer than ever!
Why the fuzzy art?  My guess is, the album jacket looks unclear because it was tough for the manufacturing plant to get the original artwork.  They just computer scanned an old jacket, and reprinted it.  It's not perfect, but it's a minor gripe.  The vinyl itself is likely a master tapes pressing, recently done in Europe.  A legal reissue with pristine sound.

As far as I'm concerned, it's the real deal.  Case closed.

The Telephantasm

The Telephantasm - Soundgarden 2010 (recorded in 1987)

Record Store Day 2010 this VVer was busy doing something important or some such (probably working) and so the other VVer was very nice and went to the neighborhood CD/Game Exchange to pick up this oddball 7", limited press of only 4,000 worldwide. So of course I'm feeling great about all of this.

Listening to The Telephantasm is another story entirely. It is not really a proper song, but an instrumental. As a single I've got to wonder, umm, do they know what a single is? Telephantasm is a giant riff (with some moaning from Chris Cornell) track by axe master Kim Thayil. Thayil has always been reliable for laying down the heaviest of guitar riffs; notable for their stellar sludge hammering. Sludge hammering? Wha? Anyways, I think the guy is basically a guitar demon. Listening to Telephantasm we get that riff. THE UBER RIFF! And it keeps coming over and over. Pretty much non-stop. The track has a sort of mantra chant of the guitar monk thing going on. Here comes the pulsing giant riff in overdrive! It has been a real journey to wrap my head around this track. I've listened to it many times over (not all at once mind you - doing so would likely cause some sort of convulsive drooling fit.). Telephantasm has been a furiously confounding listen. At just under three minutes it is over and done with almost too quickly. Pounding riff, devastating drums, weird moaning and atmospherics. It is an odd thing indeed. Loudness and a few cocktails help exponentially.

I haven't been able to track down anything close to a review of this track. Just a tiny snippet about the production. Apparently whilst preparing to put out a comprehensive best of collection (also named after this, the oddest of odd tracks; another strange decision) they found this outtake from their very first record; the amazing Screaming Life. With a little studio hodge podgery, mixer Adam Kaspar was able to polish it enough to put out into the world. But why as a single? Isn't that what Black Rain was supposed to be? Most peculiar thing about the Telephantasm single is sandwiching it with an unreleased live version of GUN; a song from two albums later; the spectacular Louder than Love. Why put these two together? How about a version of Heretic or Nothing to Say, you know, at least something from the same time period as Screaming Life?

It seems there is little to be gained and I would say a lot to be lost with a goofy ass single like this. It kind of turned me off for a while. Is this a joke? Who was high that day? Who sobered up? Ultimately it makes me really question what kind of reunion album the guys in Soundgarden are working on. Telephantasm, while interesting in its peculiarness, does not bode well for the future.