:format(jpeg):mode_rgb():quality(90)/discogs-images/R-10737716-1503388486-6730.jpeg.jpg)
320 kbps | 120 MB | LINKS
Tracks:
1. Rocket from the Crypt – Short Lip Fuser
2. Afghan Wigs – I’m Her Slave
3. The Jesus Lizard – Gladiator
4. Urge Overkill – The Kids Are Insane
5. 7 Year Bitch – Chow Down
6. Pavement – Here
7. Mudhoney – Good Enough
8. Love Battery – Out of Focus
9. Jawbox – Static
10. Alice Donut – Magdalene
11. Shudder to Think – Shake Your Halo Down
12. Laughing Hyenas – Living in Darkness
13. The Gits – Absynthe
14. Lunachicks – Sugar Luv
15. Melvins – At a Crawl
In 1999, the artist, actor, and composer John Lurie invented a personality: Marvin Pontiac, the musically gifted son of a man from West Africa and a Jewish woman from New Rochelle, New York. Pontiac’s biography, as Lurie imagined it, was a wry and purposeful sendup of the ways in which critics canonize and worship the disenfranchised and the bedevilled. In Lurie’s mythologizing, Pontiac, who was born in Mali in 1932, was abandoned by his father. His mother was institutionalized in 1936. He eventually ended up in Chicago, where he studied blues harmonica: “At the age of 17, Marvin was accused by the great Little Walter of copying his harmonica style. This accusation led to a fistfight outside of a small club on Maxwell Street. Losing a fight to the much smaller Little Walter…
…was so humiliating to the young Marvin that he left Chicago and moved to Lubbock, Texas where he became a plumber’s assistant.”
Later, Pontiac went nuts; he believed that he had been abducted and probed by aliens. He was hit and killed by a bus, in Detroit, in 1977. Because Pontiac “held the tribal belief” that cameras suck the soul from the body, there are only two extant pictures of him—both candid, both impossibly blurry. His recordings were discovered and released posthumously, though it was also true that Pontiac’s music was “the only music that Jackson Pollock would ever listen to while he painted.”
In corralling all of our preposterous critical fetishes into a single, nonsensical narrative, Lurie is, of course, writing a kind of meta-commentary on the ways in which we assess and value so-called outsider art—that Pontiac’s characteristics (all of which point, in one way or another, to misshapen yet pervasive ideas of authenticity) are so precise and absurd is also what makes them funny. Working-class, mixed-race, mentally ill, dead and heretofore undiscovered: eat it up, suckers!
Lurie is preceded in this experiment by John Fahey, the finger-style guitarist and collector of 78-r.p.m. records, who, in 1959, invented a figure named Blind Joe Death. The name was a nod to the real-life bluesmen (Blind Lemon Jefferson, Blind Blake, Blind Willie Johnson, Blind Boy Fuller) whose records Fahey hunted down and cherished. But Blind Joe Death’s backstory (he played a guitar fashioned from a baby’s coffin) was a gag at the expense of revivalists, who were so pie-eyed at the idea of discovering some gloomy and tenebrous new artist from some previously unreachable rural pocket that they bought in without asking questions.
“The Legendary Marvin Pontiac: Greatest Hits,” which Lurie wrote and recorded with Marc Ribot, John Medeski, Billy Martin, G. Calvin Weston, and Tony Scherr, was released in 2000, by Strange and Beautiful Music. Even its cover—which features one of the two obscured photographs—feels like a lampooning of the many reissue labels dedicated to hunting down lost talent, and then repackaging and recontextualizing the work, trading on the idea that, in our era of abundance, obscurity is its own currency.
Lurie has always been a playful and adroit satirist, and a deft comic. His series “Fishing with John,” which aired on IFC in 1991, is a reimagination (and a spiritual dismantling) of shows like “Bill Dance Outdoors” or “Fishing with Roland Martin,” which featured a jocular man in a boat, trying desperately to catch fish. On “Fishing with John,” Lurie invites a famous friend—Jim Jarmusch, Matt Dillon, Tom Waits, Willem Dafoe, Dennis Hopper—to join him on a fishing excursion, though he appears to know very little about the particulars of the sport. His companion inevitably becomes agitated. (He takes Jarmusch to Montauk, where they try to shoot a shark by dangling a chunk of cheese over the surface of the water; he invites Matt Dillon to Costa Rica, where they perform a fish dance.)
…seventeen years after Marvin Pontiac’s début, a new record, “The Asylum Tapes,” unexpectedly arrived on various streaming platforms. The conceit is that Pontiac made these songs on an anonymously donated four-track recorder, while locked up at the fictional Esmerelda State Mental Institution. (“I want to get out of here,” he repeats on “I Want to Get Out of Here.”) Lurie has been tweeting blurbs of support for the work from Albert Einstein (“Great spirits, like Marvin Pontiac, have always encountered violent opposition from mediocre minds”), Aristotle (“Knowing Marvin Pontiac is the beginning of all wisdom”), and Charles Dickens (“It isn’t the best of times, but this is an amazing record”).
“The Asylum Tapes” is, in its own way, an album about solitude and insanity—which form the twin pillars of a truly artistic life (or so we are taught to believe). There’s a complicated element of semi-autobiography to all this, too, insomuch as Lurie left New York City—where he was a darling of the downtown art scene in the nineteen-eighties and nineties—in 2008, after he and the artist John Perry became entangled in a vehement disagreement, and Lurie believed that Perry threatened his life. Lurie, who was also suffering from a mysterious, debilitating ailment (he has since said it was advanced Lyme disease), went into hiding. The entire debacle was chronicled for this magazine, by Tad Friend, in 2010. (Perhaps in response, Lurie recently tweeted a clip from the 1973 film “Papillon,” about a wrongly accused French convict, at The New Yorker’s account: “Hey, you bastards! I’m still here!” Papillon hollers that line from atop a bag of coconuts that he’s fashioned into a makeshift raft and used to escape from prison.)
320 kbps| 104MB | LINKS
This is an album for even the most jaded old blues collector – but the music’s elusive new audience will also love this slice of the ‘real deal’ from a living musician. Along the way, many will conclude they’ve encountered a musical genius.
Personnel:
Lucky Peterson – vocals, guitar, dobro, piano
Kelyn Crapp – guitar
Jonathan Fisher – acoustic bass
Jamil Byrum – drums
320 kbps | 101 MB | LINKS
With nearly 50 years of success spanning across multiple genres, The Kentucky HeadHunters are gearing up for the November 4 release of On Safari. The southern rock soon-to-be classic tips the hat to family and the southern way of life.
The new album, a Plowboy Records/Practice House Records joint venture, comes after several life changing events for The Kentucky HeadHunters. Band members Richard and Fred Young lost their father just three days before heading into the studio to record On Safari, causing the HeadHunters to let their guard down and pour even more emotion into the record, which they have dedicated to the memory of their father.
320 kbps | 116 MB | LINKS
Marvin Pontiac The Asylum Tapes (Strange & Beautiful Music, 2017) is the work that John Lurie has recorded in complete solitude, looking at the ghosts and fears of an illness to proceed towards the irrational of his own unconscious, descending to the bottom of the primordial nature of the instincts. it is a rocky disc, raw and wildly naked.
guitar, harmonica, banjo, a splendid and corrupt voice that overlaps itself: a guttural voice, which grunts, gasps and sighs. and then environmental noises, rattles, chains, rubbing of hands and various trinkets. all drowned in an idea of blues dazed in obsessive patterns, in the marshy mud of the Delta and in the gospel made at home with grunts and gargles. a black and white disc, dull and dusty: like the blues lost on the edge of the recording incident, like the unhealthy days of imprisonment, like a song of work to the chain!
320 kbps | 168 MB | LINKS
Shortly after the release of Lhasa, her third album, Lhasa de Sela and her musicians flew to Iceland to participate in the Reykjavik Arts Festival and give two concerts, on May 23rd and 24th, 2009. The Live in Reykjavik disc presents 14 songs performed for this occasion.
Accompanied on stage by Joe Grass on guitars and pedal steel, Miles Perkin on bass, Andrew Barr on drums and Sarah Pagé on harp, the artist played several titles from Lhasa, revisited versions of songs from La Llorona and The Living Road, as well as a haunting revival of Sam Cooke’s A Change Is Gonna Come.
320 kbps | 80 MB | LINKS
After 40 years as one-third of the creative core of the B-52s, Cindy Wilson steps out with her own solo album, Change. A collaboration between Wilson and friends and Athens musicians Ryan Monahan, Lemuel Hayes, Suny Lyons, and Marie Davon, Change marks a significant departure from Wilsons other band. With echoes of Air, Bjork, Tame Impala, and Gary Numan, the band refers to its infections brand of new-wave electro-pop as Turbo Chill. Rather than shouting in a rock voice, on Change Wilson gets to experiment with more emotional, subtle vocalizations, crooning and whispering over swirls of subtle psychedelia, Quincy Jones-era strings, and pulsing synths.
 |
| Ο Furry Lewis στην ταινία του Ροβήρου Μανθούλη Le Blues Entre les Dents |
:format(jpeg):mode_rgb():quality(40)/discogs-images/A-29815-1435330254-8280.jpeg.jpg)
320 kbps | 1,9 GB | LINKS
Albums
1968 – Children of the Future
1969 – Brave New World
1969 – Sailor
1970 – Number 5
1970 – Your Saving Grace
1971 – Rock Love (265 kbps)
1972 – Anthology
1972 – Recall The Beginning…A Journey From Eden
1973 – Living In The U.S.A
1973 – The Joker
1976 – Fly Like An Eagle
1977 – Book Of Dreams
1981 – Circle Of Love
1982 – Abracadabra
1984 – Italian X Rays
1986 – Living In The 20th Century
1988 – Born 2B Blue
1993 – Wide River
2010 – Bingo! (Special Edition)
2011 – Let Your Hair Down (Special Edition)
