Better late than never, the two boyos celebrate the 25th anniversary of Nirvana’s “In Utero” because, well, frankly because it’s a collective favourite album and we fucking felt like it. Yes, we worked our by now traditional mention of David Yow in there too, fret not.
Welcome friends to the first Grump Up The Volume Halloween Extravaganza! Join Jamie and Bushie at a haunted house party as we unleash ten tracks of terpsichorean terror for your entertainment. A collection of blood curdling curios and witching hour winners from the darkest corners of our musical attics, with the usual absolute bullshit thrown in between. Read on if you dare..
WE’RE BAAAAACK! After taking the summer off accidentally we return to school you on the life and times of the one and only “Sexy Saxman” Tim Capello wot dun did that song in The Lost Boys innit? We also manage to cover naughty chocolates, the thin line between Southpark and Dirty Dancing,wandering dogs, 80s Yuppie Crime drama, potentially breaking Carly Simon’s toes, how heroin affects the hips, and David Fucking Yow. Tim Capello is an absolute dude. We still believe. Do you?
Nope, we’re not lampooning anyone (well, bar John Cage) in this episode. This time around we pay our respects to the late great Glenn Branca,and discuss both his own work and his place in the wider scheme of things. The original plan was a family tree but really, it’s more of a bird’s nest, taking in Theatre, Guitar Composition, Neutral Records, the Brian Eno/Mr Burns parallell, and Waterford’s top teenage Sonic Youth based dance routine.
We nearly missed our own deadline because editing is hell, but here it is! Episode 2 involves a brief dive into the dayglo whirlpool that was Funk metal. Prepare for tales of Bushie’s weird research techniques, Jamie’s love of MTV ballads, EMF’s love of Faith No More, living excrement, Pauly Shore, Cameo and our secret teenage band shame.
In the first episode, we take a whistle stop tour through some of the horrendous results of 80s hardcore punk bands opting to move into more Rock N’Roll territory. From Boston straightedgers embracing Pub Rock to an English record so bad neither of us have ever been able to listen to it from start to finish, by way of flame retardent drug hair, John Farnham and a 1920’s 9-11…
