Sunday, July 31, 2011

ISAO TOMITA - OST: The Prophecies of Nostradamus/Catastrophe 1999 (1974)

This nearly-impossible-to-find score from the nearly-impossible-to-find film comes courtesy of IllCon Alumnus The Thing That Should Not Be, who submitted it in response to my pathetic pleas following our last foray into Tomita Territory. Having now heard this buried gem, I am utterly charmed by Mr. Tomita's seamless blend of sleazy wah-wah, Vegas horns, and nasty 70's funk, blended as it is with his omnipresent, reverbed-out synth--sort of like an absurd mix of Deep Throat, Tron, and Dead-On-A-Toilet Elvis. Fucking sweet.

But here's the rub. Now that I've heard the tunes, I REALLY need to see the movie (pulled from the shelves in 1980), which limited research has found described as such: "The film centers around the family of a scientist, Dr. Nishiyama (Tetsuro Tamba)... concentrating on hallucinogenic international imagery in a manner looking forward to such films as Koyaanisqatsi and Baraka. In the film, scientific advances cause an outbreak of giant slugs, oversized bats, children with genetic mutations enhancing their physical or mental abilities, and bizarre changes in weather, such as snow falling on the pyramids. The film gets bleaker and bleaker, until Dr. Nishiyama hypothesizes a scenario that re-edits the climactic war footage from The Last War, augmenting them with a scene of the surviving humans, looking like sufferers of neurofibromatosis, fighting over who gets to eat a snake." Whoa.

Another outstanding outing from an old-school IC favorite. FUCKING. TOMITA. RULING. SO. HARD.
Thanks, Thing.

dl: Epic Japanese Theremin 70's Soft-Rock Win.

Previous documentation of my Tomita obsession:

- May 27, 2011: Electric Samurai - Switched-On Rock (1972)/Snowflakes Are Dancing (1974)/Pictures At An Exhibition (1975)/The Bermuda Triangle (1978)
- June 30, 2009: Firebird Suite (1975)
- July 8, 2010: The Planets (1976)
- February 24, 2010: The Kosmos (1978)



Paul Wheeler had been experimenting with music from a young age when he and some friends formed The Caterpillars, for which he played drums. The band "mostly did covers", Wheeler recalls, but also dabbled in the occasional original recording. One of those songs, a Wheeler written song called "Girls", debuted at a talent show.

"About the only lyrics from it that I remember were "Girls are made of a lot of mush / And when that mush is heated just right / It turns into a boy's delight!", Wheeler recalls.

Wheeler grew up a fan of The Beatles and worshiped the Fab Four, but he also loved The Doors and Jimi Hendrix and remembers seeing both bands in the same week. But The Stones became an obsession which eventually led him "over to the dark side", as he recalls, into the world of The Stooges and the underground music of the early 1970s. Before long Wheeler was grooving to the sounds of Amon Duul II and Can, and toying with the idea of starting another band.

“I heard The Stooges and just became fascinated with their music and their attitude," says Wheeler. "Eventually Larry and I decided that if The Stooges could make the most exciting music we were hearing with the primitive musical talent they seemed to have then so could we and we formed The Dizeazoes and went at it. At the time it felt like what I should be doing.”

Wheeler met Larry Dardick, who had been hanging around the progressive University City area of St Louis since his teenage years, through mutual friends in 1970. The two shared an interest in music and spent "countless hours discussing music and playing chess", says Dardick. The duo also attended concerts at places like The Rainy Day Club, where they witnessed early performances of bands like The MC5, The Stooges, and Alice Cooper. The two also began to jam in the basement of Wheeler's parents house in St Louis, and it is there that The Dizeazoes began to take form. Dardick would later go on to attend the University of Chicago, but would transfer to the University of Missouri in Columbia, MO after one year and become roommates with Wheeler at a place the bands' "merry band of knuckleheads", according to Wheeler, called the "FUN House" which would become the band's second practice space.

"In some respects it was kind of like The Monkees TV show," says Dardick. "The front room of the house was always set up for playing with amps, speakers, and the like. Most weekend evenings, when nothing else was going on we would play."

The band held weekly practices in the front room of the FUN House "to the displeasure of the people who had rented the basement of the house", Wheeler recalls. They were a cover band, but a cover band unlike any other. The band played songs by The Stooges, The Troggs, The Who, The Rolling Stones, Jerry Lee Lewis, and other underground bands and would have found a hard time getting a gig anywhere with such a repertoire. Rehearsals were a spontaneous thing with the band going from song to song based on a "Let's do this one next!" sort of movement, though the band made an effort to focus on the first releases of popular bands like The Beatles and The Stones. Dardick had found a Gibson Eb-3 bass guitar for Wheeler in a pawn shop in St Louis and taught him to play "a couple of Stooges songs and a few oldies that normal people might know", says Wheeler.

The band would eventually fill out to include Lance Tyson, who had joined the band with no experience at playing drums ("But he wanted to be our drummer - that was good enough for us," recalls Wheeler), but the sticks were eventually handed over to his brother Garth. Lance would go on to play guitar.

The Dizeazoes would bounce around between rehearsal spots, but they eventually found a semi-permanent home in the basement of Wheeler's parents' house in St Louis.

"My parents were very cool about putting up with Dizeazoes practices in their basement," says Wheeler. "Of course, our practices were audible in the rest of the house. A couple of floors up our noise was more negligible, but on the first floor, where the kitchen was, it was certainly audible, and, of course, if you know anything about how the sound of bands carry, the bass tends to carry through walls and floors the best. I was told at some point that at least some of my family had decided that since it was my house the rest of the band allowed me to play the loudest. I was the one they could hear the most, so I must be playing the loudest."

Dizeazoes practices were far from private affairs. Any interested party was welcome to attend, which aided the band in their search for a vocalist.

"The singing spot was really up for grabs," says Wheeler. "If you were hanging around at a rehearsal and felt like singing a song, we were happy to let you have a go. If you sucked we might not encourage you to sing more, but we felt anyone deserved a shot."

But, of course, the practices were all about having fun and any sense of professionalism was an afterthought at best.

"It was almost always as much of a party as it was a rehearsal," says Wheeler.

And like any good party The Dizeazoes practice-parties were open to anyone with an interest in hanging out and having fun. One of those individuals was Norman Schoenfeld, who would go on to play in The Back Alley Boys and the Cigarette Butts, two early St Louis punk bands.

Paul Wheeler remembers one such instance when Schoenfeld crashed a Dizeazoes practice and attempted to add an impromptu woodwind section to the band.

"Norman called up and asked if he could come over," Wheeler recalls. "Mike Shelton yelled out that he could come over but he couldn't bring his guitar. Norman brought over his clarinet instead. The rest of us were rehearsing, probably playing Stooges songs, and Jeff Rosen ushered Norman into the basement, and set Norman up with a microphone over by the washing machine and dryer. I believe there were some sheets hanging up, drying, which obstructed our view of what was going on over there. Suddenly this high pitched squawking started up while we were playing. We kept playing, but we were all like, 'What the hell was that?'. Norman and Jeff unveiled that he was playing a cornet, or whatever it was. They pointed out to Mike that Norman had not brought over his guitar."

"We had lots laughs hanging around the basement and making noise," says Schoenfeld. "Just like any other basement/ garage band just kicking out the jams and acting out our 'rock star' fantasies."

Saturday, July 30, 2011


More Swedish boner food from the early 90's, who saw that coming?
These guys have a really great early-Incantation-meets-sloppy-Impetigo-style-grindcore vibe going on, not to mention one of the best gratuitous death metal album intros of all time. I can't give Pathological Performances (or just about anything else Necrony did in their all-too-brief career) a higher recommendation, this is truly dirtbag Hessianism at its finest. I mentioned a couple posts ago that Dan Swano played guitar with these dudes live for a bit, it is also notable that the high-profile grind band Nasum began as a Necrony side project. If that doesn't sell you, song titles like "Submassive Necrosis Disgorgement", "Gynopathological Excav-Eater", "Effervescing Discharge of Putrescent Corpulence", and "Acute Pyencephalus And Cerebral Decomposure" surely should.

Download HERE



Now, you guys know I'm no big sports fan--my interest in Major League baseball peaked somewhere around the '89 Bay Bridge Series and has rarely reared its ugly head since--but if I had to pick a "sports hero", it would be, somewhat unsurprisingly, Mr. Dock Phillip Ellis, Jr., heroic pitcher for the Pittsburgh Pirates (and others) from 1968 to 1979.
This video has about 70 bazillion views, but you need to watch it if you haven't yet, and if you have, you should watch it again:

Indeed, Ellis is best known for his notorious 1970 no-hitter, thrown, as he admitted, under the heavy influence of Lysergic acid diethylamide. But there were other admirable occurences in the man's career as well, which we will get to soon. But first, the acid:

June 12, 1970:

Wikipedia: "Ellis pitched a no-hitter against the San Diego Padres on June 12, 1970. He would admit in 1984 to being under the influence of LSD throughout the course of the game. Ellis had been visiting friends in Los Angeles under the impression he had the day off and was still high when his friend's girlfriend told him he had to pitch a game against the Padres that night. Ellis boarded a shuttle flight to the ballpark and threw a no-hitter despite not being able to feel the ball or clearly see the batter or catcher. Ellis said catcher Jerry May wore reflective tape on his fingers which helped Ellis to see his signals. Ellis walked eight, struck out six, and was aided by excellent fielding plays by second baseman Bill Mazeroski and center fielder Matty Alou. Because the no-hitter was the first game of a double header, Ellis was forced to keep track of the pitch count for the night game."

As Ellis recounted it:

"I can only remember bits and pieces of the game. I was psyched. I had a feeling of euphoria. I was zeroed in on the (catcher's) glove, but I didn't hit the glove too much. I remember hitting a couple of batters and the bases were loaded two or three times. The ball was small sometimes, the ball was large sometimes, sometimes I saw the catcher, sometimes I didn't. Sometimes I tried to stare the hitter down and throw while I was looking at him. I chewed my gum until it turned to powder. I started having a crazy idea in the fourth inning that Richard Nixon was the home plate umpire, and once I thought I was pitching a baseball to Jimi Hendrix, who to me was holding a guitar and swinging it over the plate. They say I had about three to four fielding chances. I remember diving out of the way of a ball I thought was a line drive. I jumped, but the ball wasn't hit hard and never reached me."

But wait, there's more:

May 5, 1972 macing incident in Cincinnati:

Ellis argued with, and was maced by a Riverfront Stadium security guard on May 5, 1972. The guard said Ellis did not identify himself and "made threatening gestures with a closed fist"; Ellis countered that he was showing his World Series ring as evidence of his affiliation with the Pirates.

May 1, 1974 game against Cincinnati:

Ellis attempted to hit every batter in the Cincinnati Reds lineup on May 1, 1974, as retaliation for the macing incident in Cincinnati two years earlier. Ellis hit Pete Rose, Joe Morgan, and Dan Driessen in the top of the first. The clean-up batter Tony Perez avoided Ellis's attempts, instead drawing a walk, and after two pitches aimed at the head of Johnny Bench, Ellis was removed from the game by manager Danny Murtaugh. Ellis's box score for the game reads: 0 IP, 0 H, 1 R, 1 ER, 1 BB, 0 K.

Ellis also once beaned Reggie Jackson in the face in retaliation for a home run Jackson had hit off of him in the 1971 All-Star game. Which is pretty fucking hardcore.

Lastly, has anyone else noted that, if listed in the phone book, Dock's name would appear as "ELLIS, D."?

Just sayin'.

Dock Ellis died in 2008 of cirrhosis. IllCon salutes him, for the contributions he made to both psychedelic lore and pure fucking BADASSERY. Rest well in higher dimensions, Doctor.


The sloppy truth is that The Dizeazoes were a cover band. And in many ways they were like every other cover band that has ever formed in any garage - they were a bunch of guys fucking around in a basement with guitars and drums, playing songs they liked by bands they worshiped and thinking they were really cool. But the difference between The Dizeazoes and your dad's weekend hobby is The Dizeazoes were covering songs that weren't popular and that they knew no audience would appreciate. Their repertoire consisted of songs by The Stooges, The Troggs, Jerry Lee Lewis, The Balloon Farm, and other outfits weren't exactly topping the charts at the time. Which is why The Dizeazoes were, for lack of a better term, so punk rock.

I mean, at least when a band is creating original music there is the possibility that that band might stumble upon or tap into something a listener might be into. This is, essentially, how punk rock eventually found a way to live on beyond it's original explosion - it wasn't all just guys screaming and spitting, some great music was actually made by some of those spiky haired savants. But The Dizeazoes chose to play music that they knew in advance no one, or at least a very, very, select few, would appreciate, and they simply didn't give a fuck. Which is, well, punk rock.

"There were several routes into the repertoire," says Larry Dardick. "Mainly, we chose music which we appreciated by artists we appreciated. There were some mini trends such as the idea of doing the first released songs by a couple of well know artists like The Rolling Stones and The Beatles. Of course, they had to be relatively simple for us to attempt them - again, especially in the early days. One of the main ideas was that we were playing for the enjoyment of it. So, we continued to play songs that we had fun playing."

Says Paul Wheeler:

"If you thought our band sucked, well, we kind of assumed that you would think our band sucked. We didn't think our band sucked. We felt that we were making real rock music, and that it was the stuff on the radio that sucked. We didn't really expect the world to change, and for the music we were making to suddenly become a desirable product. We were just throwing the first stone (though really more like a snowball) against the crappy music industry that was turning out glossy, pop shit, or laid-back, groove music. When The New York Dolls came out, we were excited. They were playing rock music! They didn't mind playing the fool. They realized it was a positive thing to shock your audience, and that it was important to play real rock music. The smoothness of '70s popular music grated on my soul. It had to be challenged. We didn't expect to win this cultural war, but we wanted to do our part to start turning the tide... We were serious about playing rock music, but we didn't mind at all playing the fool. In fact, we thought it was kind of important, because we didn't expect the majority of people to even have a clue what we were doing. Maybe we could make them laugh."

Friday, July 29, 2011


Says Paul Wheeler:

"When I first got excited about music, when The Beatles first broke in the states my parents, generally very cool people, put them down to the point where I was surprised by their negativity. They would say things like, 'You know Paul, in a year or two, nobody's going to remember The Beatles.' When my mom heard The Beatles' version of 'Money' she said, 'See? That's all The Beatles are interested in!'

"A few years ago my father started apologizing, mostly for being so wrong. Who would have thought? The Beatles are now very respected for all the great songs they wrote. Anyso, my parents were very cool about putting up with Dizeazoes practices in their basement. Of course, our practices were audible in the rest of the house. A couple of floors up our noise was more negligible, but on the first floor, where the kitchen was, it was certainly audible, and, of course, if you know anything about how the sound of bands carry, the bass tends to carry through walls and floors the best. I was told at some point that at least some of my family had decided that since it was my house the rest of the band allowed me to play the loudest. I was the one they could hear the most, so I must be playing the loudest.

"After a couple of years or so, my parents put in a request that we play in the other bandmembers' houses for a while. I believe that in the Dardick household we only lasted a couple of weeks. The Tyson and Carmack households may have actually put up with us for a couple of months, but after a while we were back in my mom and dad's basement, and as we were basically trying to play the most rebellious music we could come up with, my parents, who couldn't put up with The Beatles when they first came along, deserve some real points for putting up with our joyous noise!"

Thursday, July 28, 2011


Though The Dizeazoes existed for three years, they played live on only two occasions, both house parties. The first was a graduation or birthday party for a girl named Jane, or possibly a birthday party for her sister Deb. No one remembers the exact circumstances, but the band was asked to play a few sets to celebrate something one of the Kahn sisters was doing or experiencing or something like that. At the time the band consisted of Wheeler on bass, Dardick on guitar, Garth and Lance Tyson (drums and guitar),and Rosen on vocals. They rehearsed four sets of music, and set up in the house in a room by the kitchen.

"We were ready and rehearsed. Well... rehearsed, anyway," laughs Wheeler. "A good crowd of people arrived and we were told to start playing. I forget how many songs we played, but I know that we carefully selected them and were ready to play four sets of about eight songs each."

A few songs in, however, one of the party goers made a fateful request: "Sweet Jane" by The Velvet Underground.

"We didn't know it, so we went on with our set," says Wheeler. "And not only did everybody at the party quickly move away from the band, all except a very few left the house and either went out on the front lawn or into the backyard.”

Message to young bands today: Know your Lou Reed.

“When we finished the set Garth shoved his drum set out into the middle of the room in a kind of unplanned finale,” continues Wheeler. “Bits and pieces of his drum set littered the floor. For an encore we helped him pick it all up. We were told that the other three sets we had planned would not be necessary.”

Wednesday, July 27, 2011


Yeah, yeah, we all know that Matt and Lint went on to play in Rancid (at least those of us over 30), but whatever happened to Jesse Michaels, the energetic, charismatic frontman from the popular ska-punk outfit Operation Ivy? That guy seemed to have his shit together, how come he didn't go on to (quote unquote) bigger and better things?
Oh wait, he did?


Part 1:

Part 2:

Thanks, Cory.


A question that always comes up in any discussion about The Dizeazoes: "What kind of a name is The Dizeazoes?"

In the early days The Dizeazoes were a loosely formed fragment of a band with members drifting in and out for fun. After moving from Wheeler's parents' basement in St Louis, the band was practicing in Columbia, MO, where Larry Dardick was attending the University of Missouri. Eventually Paul Wheeler would move to Columbia and room with Dardick at a place known as The FUN House. While on a weekend trip to Columbia to test out a new guitarist a friend, Norbert Rosen, inspired the name of the band.

According to Wheeler:

"At this point The Dizeazoes were very much in the beginning stages. Larry played guitar, I had recently bought a bass, and Larry had taught me a few songs. We were trying to come up with band names, and we were trying to come up with more band members. An acquaintance had mentioned that he played some guitar, and I had immediately asked if he'd be interested in playing with Larry and I. So he, Dennis Rainey, Norbert Rosen, Jeff Rosen (no relation, who eventually became one of our lead singers), and I planned a trip up to Columbia, MO where Larry went to school. The idea was that Larry, Dennis and I would play together and see what happened. That didn't work out, but we did have a good time. Norbert Rosen had coined some phrases that had become popular amongst his friends, and one of them had been 'diseased'. If something was 'diseased', as I understood it, it was a reflection of the downward spin of modern society, but, on the other hand, it wasn't a completely negative comment, giving even the silliest pop trinket, or ridiculous action a certain cachet of cool. That's how I understood it. The wonderful thing about Norbert's use of phrases was that he rarely explained what he felt they meant. So, the five of us were hanging around together for this weekend and Larry and I had been bouncing possible names off each other, and hadn't come up with anything that we both liked. At one point, Norbert stated authoritatively that something was "diseased". I have no idea what it was, but, as I remember, I said, 'That's it, The Dizeazoes!', and Larry liked the name, too. It was the first name we were both excited about. The spelling came about partially through my inability to correctly spell 'disease', but I also felt, once I had looked up the proper spelling, that for our band name the 'Z's' would look better. So, Larry and I had the name before we actually had any other members in the band."

Tuesday, July 26, 2011


Garth Tyson played drums for The Dizeazoes for the majority of the bands' existence. What follows is his response to the question: "How much fun was it being in the Dizeazoes?"...

"I've got to admit the most fun wasn't the live shows," says Tyson. "It was mashin' the skins in somebody's basement with Jeff screamin into the mike, pullin his shirt off, dancing, sweating, the great look on his face with his neck veins poppin out. Paul workin his bass line. Larry playin his guitar, clickin his waa-waa on and off, workin his foot: waaaaa... workin his string strecher handle waaaaa... aaaa.... aaaa.... aaaa...! Drinkin beer, hangin out, tryin a new song, fuckin' it up! Laughing, trying it again... louder!!! Faster!!! Fuckin' up again!!! But keepin on playin as we look at each other grinning..... Then fuckin it up again but it sounds great!!!! Sweat pouring out of my head, arms shiny, feet & legs beating, arms pounding, playin through the noise and makin the NOISE! Yeah baby! Great stuff! We did get pretty tight on some numbers, but who cares about that. The neck veins poppin out are what it was about. Waaaaaaa..... Hell! Yeah!"

Monday, July 25, 2011


Back in September of last year, I posted Mr. Dan Swano's solo project Karaboudjan, and for any folks who were not familiar with the guy, added this quick explanation:

"You know, the Swedish dude from Bloodbath and Brejn Dedd and Darkcide and Demiurg and Diabolical Masquerade and Edge of Sanity and Godsend and Incision and Infestdead and Katatonia and Maceration and Masticate and Nightingale and Odyssey and Overflash and Pan.Thy.Monium and Ribspreader and Route Nine and Star One and Steel and Total Terror and Unicorn and Sorskogen and Frameshift and Another Life and Stygg Död and Obliterhate?"

To my own extreme embarassment, I totally forgot to add that he played live with Necrony for awhile. My bad, sorry.
Anyways, here's some super early Swano noodlings, before he got all "Opeth" on everyone's ass. Nothing but straight-up Swedeath, no frills or pretensions, with the Boss HM-2 cranked to 10 accross the board. Haterz gonna hate, but I'll take this little slab over Crimson any day. Serious.

Download HERE
Purchase HERE



(Please indulge me... This is the rather long introduction part, written courtesy of copious amounts of Pabst Blue Ribbon...)

I am not a historian of rock music but I think that a major part of being one of those people has to be the undying belief that, despite all of the work of the writers and critics that have worked to shape the official history of rock and roll, the great American rock and roll band has yet to be discovered. It seems to me that to be a historian of rock and roll you have to believe that instead of being illuminated by the glitter and glam of broken guitar strings, smeared lines of cocaine, wrecked cars, and discarded groupie undergarments that Rolling Stone and VH1 would have you believe is how rock and roll evolved, the true story of rock and roll has, in fact, been clouded by those stories, and that somewhere inside of that quagmire there is a band waiting to be found that out-Stoned the Stones, out-Stooged the Stooges, out-Clashed The Clash, and out-Gunned Guns and Roses without really trying. At some point everyone writing about music must believe that somewhere there was a group of careless kids in some basement or garage pounding out shitty songs on shitty instruments that was so great that it drowned out the screams of their shitty parents: “Get a job!” or “Get a haircut!” or "Military School!". Kids who plugged their amplifiers into rich veins of a rock and roll destiny that rose and fell with one 45 released by a regional label, one show opening for AC/DC or Alice Cooper before they were big, memories of playing that one party where the cops got called and everyone got arrested and everything got destroyed and some guy was breathing fire and the drummer finally lost his virginity and no one really remembers because they all got too drunk and stoned. Then it all disappears in the blink of the drummer’s girlfriend winking at the singer or the crash bang of “creative differeneces” and everyone moves on or gives up. Haircuts and jobs for most, out of the garage and into the cubicle. One guy or two, maybe, holding out the dream playing in band after band hoping to make it or just have some fun and growing his hair long sitting at coffee shops downtown making friends with everyone and telling stories of the old days. And later the story gets retold in a Nuggets collection or just never gets retold and just settles among the dust in the rafters of the once cool rock and roll club that now houses a Verizon store or some fucking bakery or something. And maybe we should put a plaque outside, people say, because it was cool way back but still there's no money in it so maybe one day. What could have been always languishes in what was and where things will go is always a point of discussion for closing time at the bar around the corner.

That may be rambling, but for your honest music writer - critic, historian, real "journalist", blogger, or whatever – that band is still out there somewhere. Like I said, I’m not a music historian, but, for me, that band is The Dizeazoes, the first punk rock band in St Louis.

"As far as I know there was no other band like The Dizeazoes in St. Louis," says Paul Wheeler, who founded The Dizeazoes with Larry Dardick in 1973. "It was the music we were playing. It was the attitude we had. We didn't really think there was a place for us in St Louis. There were no bars for local bands to play anything but the most popular music of the day. We weren't doing that. We didn't want to do that. We had no intention of doing that. We didn't really think that there was an audience out there for The Dizeazoes. We didn't expect people to actually like us. About the most we had to hope for was that they might think we were fun, or funny."

"The band made a concerted effort not to take itself too seriously, especially in the early years," says Larry Dardick. "One of the main ideas was that we were playing for the enjoyment of it."

The Dizeazoes existed from 1973-1976 in St Louis. During that time they practiced hundreds of times but played only two shows, both house parties, and very few recordings of their work exist. This is the first part of a multi-part series which will attempt to tell the story of the band.

Friday, July 22, 2011

OWLnight, OWLright

Hey Ya'll remember that band Owl I posted about a ways back? Well, as I usually do, I invited myself to be a part of that band, and now we are venturing out of our Owl's nest and into the night. Here's a little refresher-the first and original Owl DEMO. Of course, we've been in the studio a whole lot this year and have a 7" and a full OWLbum in the works. Starting off on Sunday it's yours truly dirty thirty. I can now graduate from P.I.T. (Puma in training) to official Puma, I believe. Yay for me.

If you did not catch Lord Dying OR Nether Regions on tour you really, really should.

Then next week we embark on adventures in the Northwest Regions of our great country. Observe:

SAT - JULY 30 - Eli's Mile High Club, Oakland, CA
w/ Ghetto Blaster, Funeral Stain

SUN - JULY 31 - The HQ, Reno, NV
w/ P.R.O.B.L.E.M.S.(pdx), Sptting Image, The Z-28s

MON - AUG 1 - The Alibi, Arcata, CA

TUE - AUG 2 - Camping, Devil's Lake. With whomever dares to spend the night in the woods with Owl.

WED - AUG 3 - The Know Portland, OR
w/ Drunk Dad, Lord Dying (DUDE)

THUR - AUG 4 - Fort Drunkenfall, Seattle, WA

FRI - AUG 5 - Olympia, WA - TBA

SAT AUG 6 - Portland, OR - The Alleyway
w/ The Guild

SUN AUG 7 -Musichead, Medford, OR
w/ Landmine Marathon, Enshadowed Empire

I'm sorry for all the self promotion people, but guilt is the only way I can get you to come.

Thursday, July 21, 2011

VOOR - EVIL METAL Demo (1985)

In an alternate reality somewhere, Quebec's VOOR were signed to Combat Records in 1985 instead of Possessed, and their manic, primitive jam "Evil Metal" gave its name to the music genre we all know and love, rather than Possessed's "Death Metal". In that same alternate reality, the clunky ESL lyrics of Voor's "In The Hell" became a rallying cry for Denim Warriors worldwide, and the mulleted, thin-mustached legions of Evil Metal took to the streets in a shared bloodlust for the False.

Alas, this is not the reality that we live in. Voor disappeared quickly and without fanfare shortly after the release of the ten-minute Evil Metal demo, but the atonal scribbling solos, galloping drums, and grunting, Tom G. Warrior vocals contained therein cause one to wonder....

What if?

Download HERE
Purchase re-issue via Nuclear War Now! HERE

Voor = my BFFs


Tuesday, July 19, 2011



It seems the famed father-and-son team behind the popular internet weblogs COSMIC HEARSE and CRUD WIZARD have decided to delve into a new form of media--namely dry erase animation!
Aesop and Ezra Dekker, whose other credits include black metal musician and elementary school student respectively, have pioneered a new method of filmmaking which involves camera, ink, eraser, and board only! Observe the following video, entitled Hardcore Rules, for a glimpse at some of their creative output thus far:

Pretty cool, right?

Well, the Insider Gossip Team here at IllCon have stumbled accross another nugget hidden deep in this story--apparently the Dekker Animation Crew are working on a dry-erase animation music video for none other than the Hooded Hooligans themselves--local splatterthrash favorites GHOUL!
So far the Dekker camp is hush-hush on the project, but the IllCon Insider has managed to procure production stills for the project through a super-secret informant THAT NO ONE ELSE HAS ACCESS TO, and they are indeed stunning.

Mum's the word so far on how long until the video "drops", but Readers can be assured of one thing: The IllCon Insider will be there waiting, ready to pass along all the red carpet tidbits as they surface!

Yeah. Here's this:

(flawless segue.)




Saturday, July 16, 2011


Today's post is the tale of two Tormentors, one from Germany and one from Hungary.

First up we have the Teutonic Tormentor, best known for being the band that later turned into KREATOR. These dudes loved their spikes and leather, but truth be told, the two demos that they produced in their short run under this moniker (Blitzkrieg in 1983 and The End of The World in 1984) are both pretty close to unlistenable. Blitzkrieg in particular sounds like it was recorded through a ten-foot-thick wall of pure diarrhea, but hey, come on: these guys later became Kreator. FUCKING KREATOR. So cut 'em a break.
Besides, these songs are kind of fun in a pilsner-swilling, pub-thrash sort of way, kind of like that old promo picture of Slayer when they were like 18 and wearing corpsepaint, and Jeff Hanneman is grabbing that chick's boobs or whatever. You know the one.

This Tormentor.

BLITZKRIEG Demo (1983)


END OF THE WORLD Demo (1984)


Next up we have the Hungarian Tormentor, whose greatest claim to fame is that they served as proving ground for one Attila Csihar, right before he went on to unlimited notoriety singing for some other band on some album about Satan. The two demos they recorded before Attila left are not only heaps better than the two demos produced by their German counterpart, but better, actually, than most blackthrash recorded anywhere in the late 80's, especially their 1988 swan song Anno Domini, which really sounds and looks nothing like a "demo" at all. Both of these recordings are "full-length" (9 and 13 songs, respectively), and surprisingly vicious for their time and place.
Also, super lols at the way both of these demos begin by unapologetically plagiarizing the theme from Phantasm. So sweet.

That Tormentor.



ANNO DOMINI Demo (1988)


Friday, July 15, 2011


Take a good long look, fuckers. That indecipherable scrawl up there is the logo for myself and Brother Peter's new(ish) band APOCRYPHON (drawn by our old pal Farron Loathing), and you all are going to be seeing a whole lot more of it in the near future. I posted our first EP on The Living Doorway yesterday, but in case you clowns missed it, here are the direct links for both MEDIAFIRE and MEGAUPLOAD. I guarantee face-shreddage.
You can also find us on all your favorite musical outlets:

Facebook/Last.FM/Bandcamp (where you can also download our tunes either for free or donation)/Encyclopaedia Metallum (coming soon).

Add us where you see fit, and help spread the word about your new favorite psychedelic blackened death metal noisegrind band!

PS: Our second guitarist just quit. Interested parties can contact me at


Artwork again by the beautiful and talented Farron Loathing.

T-shirts featuring the above artwork coming soon. Also, this:

That is all.

Saturday, July 9, 2011

Attn Los Angeles Area Hessians

Ultimate IC bros Hazzards Cure will be in LA tonight only.  Download their excellent demo here and check out Clints blog here

I'll be DJing this show but I'm having trouble selecting the right records. It's either going to be nothing but Inquisition or this:

Decisions decisions. 

Friday, July 8, 2011


Sorry for the lack of posts, but this video should make up for everything:

(Thanks? to gooniestorm)

Also, I made you guys this sweet custom meme:

Use it wisely.

That is all.

Wednesday, July 6, 2011

My Netflix 'Suggestions' System Is A Lazy Twat

Question: Who writes the algorithms for the Netflix "suggestion" system? I'll admit, I got bored one day and rated the shit out of a bunch of movies on Netflix (see below), hoping that it would cause the inner workings of the 'Flix to spew forth a cavalcade of obscure, awesome films for my perusal, but sadly, it has had quite the opposite effect.

Observe this recent interaction between myself and the Netflix "system":


Okay, cool. These all look like good movies. But one question, Netflix: why are they ALL based on my enjoyment of the same three films? I mean, yeah, 2001, Brazil, and Blue Velvet are all awesome, but I'm not gonna base my ENTIRE movie diet around JUST those three movies, right? What else ya got?

OK, OK. Maybe I haven't made myself entirely clear: Again, all of these movie suggestions are based on my 'enjoyment' of Blue Velvet and Clockwork Orange, but c'mon now, I've 'rated' over 2200 movies here, what else have you got?

Fucking Hell, Netflix. Again, we're back to Square One here. Blue Velvet, 2001, and Brazil are NOT the only movies in the world. I've given you so much, can't you just give me a little bit back?

Jesus fucking Christ. We've been through this already...
2200 movies. MIX IT UP a little, eh?!?!



Game over, Netflix. Put in another quarter.

OK, Netflix, you've made a little progress, but please note: EVERY MOVIE you've EVER recommended to me has been based, in part, on my 'enjoyment' of Blue Velvet. Yes, I DO like Blue Velvet. But that doesn't mean that EVERY movie I EVER see from now on needs to be similar to that film. Are we clear?

Apparently, we are not.

HOLY SHIT! A recommendation NOT based on my enjoyment of Blue Velvet! I've made contact! NETFLIX, IT'S ME, COBRAS! Can we move forward now?!?!?

Never mind, Netflix.

I think maybe we should see other people.

Editor's note: All screencaps were taken directly from only the FIRST page of my Netflix "suggestions" section. If any 'Flix algorithm-writers are reading this: WTF BRO?

'My Netflix Suggestions System Is A Lazy Twat' is the first in a series of posts documenting the "FIRST WORLD PROBLEMS" endured by the creators of the Illogical Contraption blog. Stay tuned for more whine and cheese in the near future!