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...this wax being a really nice visitation for a half hour in kims world where we meet some of his friends who read some poetry, kim pretends to be a deejay and phones unsuspecting citizens, some avant mooging and a couple of rockers and country tunes...a very entertaining time is had by all which is full of good clean fun...
...the king of the underworld launches another assault on the square denizens of planet earth by announcing he's bad and its great to be alive, two things cuboids are never sure of...this is half hour of sunset strip trance voodoo straight out of the swamps that permeate the back alleys from the other side of the tracks...always hated by the music industry for his tendency to make pure rock'n'roll and make/lose bundles of bread without seeminly trying, just coming on in a sheer whirlwind of fun type madness and just generally kicking out the jams...he'd been listening to the stones 'let it bleed' while knocking this out with refined keefisms over purloined riffs from his past and others...the musicians are top flight session cats doing afterhours when they got through doing some laurel canyon snooze-up all day, cutting some hotcha metherdrine psyched boogey frenzy while kim invokes howling wolf to utter the netherworld beatnik poetry...
...these cooled-out ladies of the canyon, the eternally exotic mamas of rock'n'roll lay down their thoughts on life in the HEP mod scene of hollywood late 1960's, plus documenting the lecherous creepy cubes they meet out in the square world...they get in a few jokes at the expense of the lame scenesters and the age of aquarious fakes and frauds...often hyped and labeled as outsiders (or as some unkind cats say, just zappa puppets and nothing more) this could not be further from the truth, these femme fatales are insiders if they are anywhere...a rare poetic account from a scene long time gone, a scene that could not or would not be allowed to exist in todays 'modern world'...a groovy fave rave, a fabulous moment in time...
...this wax being a really nice visitation for a half hour in kims world where we meet some of his friends who read some poetry, kim pretends to be a deejay and phones unsuspecting citizens, some avant mooging and a couple of rockers and country tunes...a very entertaining time is had by all which is full of good clean fun...
...the king of the underworld launches another assault on the square denizens of planet earth by announcing he's bad and its great to be alive, two things cuboids are never sure of...this is half hour of sunset strip trance voodoo straight out of the swamps that permeate the back alleys from the other side of the tracks...always hated by the music industry for his tendency to make pure rock'n'roll and make/lose bundles of bread without seeminly trying, just coming on in a sheer whirlwind of fun type madness and just generally kicking out the jams...he'd been listening to the stones 'let it bleed' while knocking this out with refined keefisms over purloined riffs from his past and others...the musicians are top flight session cats doing afterhours when they got through doing some laurel canyon snooze-up all day, cutting some hotcha metherdrine psyched boogey frenzy while kim invokes howling wolf to utter the netherworld beatnik poetry...
...these cooled-out ladies of the canyon, the eternally exotic mamas of rock'n'roll lay down their thoughts on life in the HEP mod scene of hollywood late 1960's, plus documenting the lecherous creepy cubes they meet out in the square world...they get in a few jokes at the expense of the lame scenesters and the age of aquarious fakes and frauds...often hyped and labeled as outsiders (or as some unkind cats say, just zappa puppets and nothing more) this could not be further from the truth, these femme fatales are insiders if they are anywhere...a rare poetic account from a scene long time gone, a scene that could not or would not be allowed to exist in todays 'modern world'...a groovy fave rave, a fabulous moment in time...
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