Jad Fair and Samuel Locke Ward “The Good Stuff”

I confess, I fall in love with every record that I issue. So imagine how it feels to be loved back by that record. I mean the actual sleeve and insert and electric yellow marbled vinyl, and the labels on side one and two. Hell, the LP labels themselves do more for me than that eighteen hour of TM that I did last week, and that was a real doozy. I go out in the front yard and I don’t care who is there, coyotes, hawks, venomous passer by, not today. I just flip the vinyl over, A to B for hours at a time. I don’t then just walk through that front door, I tap dance. I tap right into the kitchen with a lit up cheshire grin and I build a shrine on a ten foot platter, an eighteen course meal for my family to eat, and don’t even know that I am doing it.

A record built only on love and joy and perseverance by Jad Fair and Samuel Locke Ward reaching out through the darkness with rechargeable batteries is landing, issued by Shrimper and Stationary (Heart) on March 7th. I ain’t writing ad copy. Play this video put together by Jad, hear them Locke Ward musical dynamics coupled w/ Jad’s lyrics and voice and you might find yourself doing the same. Aloo Gobi sandwiches, french fried ice cream, tres leche spaghetti, empty them cupboards and make way for pure candy.

Trailer for TM Givens Diaries and Letters book on Bamboo Dart Press premieres

Tm Givens’ Diaries and Letters is out on February 25th. On display in his latest is his always beautifully recognizable drawing style. combined with the constricting space of pandemic-era living. Compared to his “Garden Prayers” series on Pelekinesis and the recent Coffee Shop drawings, whose fluid lines and outward observations express a sense of openness and connection, these drawing convey the isolation and claustrophobic feelings we experienced during those confining times. Below is the short trailer for this lovely book.

Gail Butensky Bamboo Dart Press book and New Yorker piece

Dog Faced Hermans photo (c) Gail Butensky

Gail Butensky has been one of my favorite photographers for decades. I am sure if you are reading this, you have seen some of her photography on your favorite record covers, zines, publications or online. It was a thrill to issue her book Every Bend on Bamboo Dart Press a few years back. The book features some of her iconic shots of The Minutemen, Big Black, The Butthole Surfers among others, but also her lovely shots of California deserts, runaway trains and empty resorts. There is running commentary in the Bamboo Dart Press book about each photo chosen from the thousands upon thousands that Butensky has shot which is illuminating. Check out this lovely piece on her in The New Yorker.

Peter Wortsman’s “The Laboratory of Time, and other cutup poems” it out now

The Laboratory of Time, and other cutup poems, Peter Wortsman’s third collection of experiments in the form, lets time be told in the way we live it, sometimes stretching a second into seeming eternity, sometimes compressing eternity into a second. The first part, titled “The True Glue,” comprises recycled assemblages of words cut out of the newspaper that make a newfangled poetic sense. The second part, titled “The Five Books,” is an admittedly unorthodox retelling of biblical narrative, the poetic sap and zap of it extracted by means of a vertical transcription.
Exhalations burdened with meaning, they are forever being uttered, stuttered and forgotten, trashed and mulched to fertilize new formulations. What else is a cutup poem after all, or any kind of poem for that matter, but a wild flower sprouting out of the dirt!

Wortsman’s work is always calling out for a second or third reading, and this same magic trick applies to his cut up poetry. So proud to be issuing this one on Bamboo Dart Press.

Shrimper 35th anniversary! First release, no Meta, no X. Salt Tesla, why not.

Let me preface this by saying that I know even those of us that are diligent about supporting independent businesses and thought have a hard time escaping the clutches. My internet provider, your cell phone. You do the best that you can, and any movement in that direction is appreciated, truly.

Over the course of some thirty five years I have been supported by a $3 check in the PO Box here, a record store ordering direct from the label there, or by independent distributors that carry my records like Revolver and Grapefruit. I have been at odds with the big boxes, with Spotify paying peanuts to the peasants, with Bandcamp being owned by the largest licensing platform in the world. Artists, who own their masters and the rights to their music on Shrimper, sign no contract. They decide what and where their music will be sold and a lot of them are up against a brick wall built by bean counters and flight by night thieves. Artist who have to tour, sit captive at a merch table, suffer poor sleep, time away from their family to tour more and more in an attempt to make ends meet. So what are they to do when the rent is due? Neil Young? Taylor Swift? Bruce Springsteen? Snoop Dogg? You have done nothing with your megaphone but pose with it, preen, play it safe even as you meekly stand up here or there. Millionaires playing make up, putting on airs. If they cared about you baby, they would do something for their community that is in need. Enjoy the gala, the award show with your thighs on your hands. High school does not end for some.

I am thankful and so incredibly fortunate to be this deep into still running this little cottage bake sale after all of these years, all the inspiring artists whose records I have issued, played music with, corresponded with. The kind souls. This world is largely made up of that. I can afford not to have my music on Spotify, not to sign on with a publisher or BMI so that my music can be played in a coffee shop gratis (never Starbucks, they don’t want to drive anyone away with the din of Refrigerator). Musically and with the label, I am the smallest of ripples, inconsequential to the lip of 100% of the world. What freedom. In saying that, wouldn’t it be wonderful if the stand that we are taking in January is to truly think about where our time and our money goes? Sign off on Insta & X & Meta et al, we are all just aphids on their gilded roses. Picked up my soap from a place that makes it in Pasadena (I hope there aren’t any goat teeth or corn cobs in it). Went to a mom & pop restaurant down the street for breakfast, the crew there was braver than the major media/label shills, of course they were. They were me. They were you. Everything starts with a step, hoping you get a couple more between you and them and I send you all of my love. Fact check that shit Zuckerberg.

Signed, DC

David Watson on Bill Chen Vs. Dennis Callaci this Wednesday

David Watson, from Wellington, New Zealand, had his first recordings in 1981 with the avant collective Primitive Art Group on the fascinating Braille Record label that he cofounded. The releases on the label are an incredible peak into the nascent New Zealand outre scene. Watson moved to New York in the early 90’s and has since recorded with Ikue Mori, John Zorn, Alastair Galbraith, Christian Marclay, Lee Ranaldo, Bill Nace and a cavalcade of others as a guitarist and highland bagpiper. We are thrilled to welcome him to our weekly show this Wednesday at 10:30 AM PST on KSPC 88.7. The first two Primitive Art Group records are seeing a release for the first time state side on venerable Amish records. Don’t sleep.