In the No Wave book by Thurston Moore and Byron Coley, there is a photo of Glenn Branca and the dudes from Liquid Liquid trying to squeeze into a rickety lift and up to a house-party in some controlled rent loft in Manhattan circa 1979. This is what happens after:
Skinny hip urchins as they are, their weight is too much for this relic from the post-war times to carry, electric forces are summoned from the motor and through a taut wire which pulls upwards, stops, keeps pulling, stops again in between floors, picture the master of the exalted drone vortex crammed against a streetgang of African Riddim kids, the creaking of the wire echoes in the elevator shaft, one heartbeat, *snap*
And down plunges the box with a rain of sparkles on its wake, like a Soviet bloc-manufactured delorean, inside the wormhole somewhere in between claustrophobic frustration and a legendary tragedy, and out…
…into a Brighton basement two months ago or less, where some crazy kids are contorting to Cold Pumas’ metronomic dance grind. Branca wipes some dust off his shoulders and lights up a cigarette with a smile of approval, the future is going to be all right.
I was there, I saw it.
Tropical Guilt is included in a Paradise Vendor/Italian Beach Babes comp which comes out on the 1st of March. It includes songs by Teen Sheiks, La La Vasquez, Male Bonding, Fair Ohs, Graffiti Island and Plug amongst others. It is the perfect snapshot of everything that is cool and right with the new DIY wave of whatever DIY wave scene which Alan McGee was ranting about in the Guardian the other day. I already pre-ordered mine, and so should you.
Trash Kit are the last addition to the collection of wonders hanging from the walls of the pristine museum of good stuff past which a pegasus of beautiful purpose gallops, destination Epsilon. Gotta love Upset the Rhythm.
Theirs is a cure for the teenage blues. This jangly romp compresses time so that 2 minutes fit everything that is unselfconsciously cool about post-punk music- Pulsallama’s percussive mayhem and the Modettes’ explosion of unbridled joy, UT’s sassy rough around the edges soul and Red Transistor’s rodeo gallop, all of these are stitched together with invisible seams in a demonstration of verve and skill that can’t be learned at school, you either have it or you don’t. Trash Kit most definitely do.
Cadets is included in their self/titled album, which shall come out in March.