Les Rallizes Denudés
8 hours ago
|"Hey Puddle, what's happening?" The Upsets in someone's backyard.|
"To be honest, the wild mix was to cover up the performance of the band which was a bit loose and out of tune. I just went bananas with the phaser, the flanger, echo and panning".Kimbo, we salute you. In reality, though, nothing short of an electromagnet applied to the master tape could have masked the looseness of the band. Notes are flubbed, and rhythmic irregularities abound. Now, we're not talking Afterbirth-level ineptitude here, not even close, but it's fair to say that any self-respecting "pro" hard rock band would have recycled the tape rather than immortalise it on plastic. Thankfully, Toxic had the testicular fortitude to follow through.
Last week we lost one of the great diy musicians - Dennis Kennedy, bassist for The Sunday Painters, the early-'80s band from Wollongong. Dennis had been working as an IT consultant in Singapore. Although he had been struggling with diabetes, his death was unexpected.Dennis was a brilliant, footloose, charismatic, garrulous fellow whose passions were worn proudly, so he had stories galore, whether from his punk and activist days in Wollongong, or from his wanderings across the US and Canada. He’d hung out with rock royalty (his brother was a Moody Blues roadie), met Celine Dion, and chatted up Lady Gaga. He was charming.His music remains powerful. He played fiercely and beautifully; he could deliver the rock-solid repetition crucial to post punk (see the live version of “In My Dreams” on YouTube), go slack on the loungey “Be Objective,” or put the band into overdrive on “Emotion Sickness,” maybe the quickest bit of industrial ferocity to come out of punk. He helped write “Flesh” and “Love Factory,” two of the finest art-punk songs ever. And he is missed.