In the old days rebellion was about being yourself, dressing how you wanted, dancing in a field, sleeping with who you wanted, reading what you wanted and any other actions that the main stream deemed to be outside the norm.

These days being a social rebel isn’t some fashion stance punk thing of wearing that nazi shirt or not letting your mum know what time your coming home, it’s about grassroots and all those cliches. Doing something locally that effects things globally. Hipster/individualism is just another commodity that business learned how to sell, and we suck it up like the sweetest soda float in the world.

All good art, whether by intention/design or not, is political. There are certain collectives of individuals on this hemisphere who go that step further in their production of art of a je ne sais quoi so far on in engaging in the conversation* it defies analysis of what exactly it answers or questions.

In the worst incarnation this art becomes academic – its existence is an exercise, which others fail to connect with as an experience – valid or invalid.

At its best its a vortex to another mindset of expression you couldn’t hope to capture the potency of, but to which you deeply succumb, until it means everything to you. It’s a political statement of being.

This last case, and more, can be said of Clare Amory and the body of expression which we call by the name of Excepter.

Excepter – Mask of Stereo

Mask of Stereo is taken from the Maze of Death tape released on Dog Daze Tapes.

Let us not linger on the what has come to pass with downturned mouths, for that is indeed something none of us wish our loved ones to do. When we too pass it will be in a celebration of everthing we stood for, and of passing on this knowledge to others.

20jfg stands for nothing if not the warm and wookie-like fury excepting embrace of our own differences and similarities.

This airbrushed spacesuit clad freak who puts the ass in ass-tronaute is Gino Soccio, a canadian disco giant – he’s quite a guy. When Gino first met Greg Wilson, a mancunian dj  (he’s gorgeous) it was in a darkened Wallasey nightclub, and let me tell you – it was rebellion.

There was an age when the only ‘friends’ we had were fellow listeners to John Peel on the radio, or distant shadows at clubs and gigs. Those far too distant comrades in arms to exchange quips on Eliza Parsons novels and how underrated Juan Atkins/Bong Water are. Now we have so many Richard Kern/Krautrock/J-pop/Edgar Allan Poe/John Waters obsessed friends to follow, and its nice to have this many channels of cultural validity.

Kebekelektrik - War Dance (Greg Wilson re-edit)

In these times, until the machine stops, we are all culturally individual but highly and connected. From Libya to Wisconsin to home sweet home if there is an injustice, you no longer have to wait for Dredd to make sentence!

It’s quick and simple to find which friends give a shit about which ‘leaders’ decide your life is morally destructive to society, or as trivial seeming (but close to our heart) as to who supports the local market with the great second hand record store and it not being turned into a multi-story car park for the new shopping center full of chain stores who suck money like a [insert alien] from the local economy. The revolution is televised, from your phone in a town square/wallmart/asda near you soon, by us as connected individuals.

If i like, then you like, then we like together :)

Direct action is the most positive fun thing you can partake in since that [inset performer/dj] in [insert club/party name] in [insert date]. Haters are lossers and we at 20jfg are glad the idoits are not winning (at least this week).

To end our Excepter sandwich here is the legendary artist Mr.Foetus himself with a breathtaking remix of Excepter from the unmissable rvng frkwys series.

Excepter – Stretch (JG Thirlwell remix)

For those of you unable to partake in the major social upheavals or wikileaking taking place in the our world this week, 20jfg would like to recommend taking part in some more fun local action via the UKuncut or USuncut pages.

It’s good to give a fuck, and don’t let any other fucker tell you otherwise.

credo.

Ariel Pink and his Haunted Graffiti: Before Today. News at 11. Pop prophet transforms utopian fish into crumbling DIY bread, masses flock  to worship at his bedroom temple.

Ariel Pink & His Haunted Graffiti- Fright Nights (Nevermore) (Posted on April 21)

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Arp – The Soft Wave.  Cluster and Eno and Rilley and Georgopoulos.  Ringside seats in an amphitheatre at the edge of time.

Arp – Pastoral Symphony: I. Dominoes II. Infinity Room (posted September 3rd)

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Arp and Anthony Moore: FRKWYS Vol. 3. Lullabies for wide-eyed children destined for polymathematic stardom.

Arp and Anthony Moore- Spinette (posted on April the 5th)

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CFCF: The River. Mies Van der Rohe built an exquisite Canal de Amazonia to make Fitzcarraldo’s job easier.

CFCF- The River (Piano Version) (Posted November the 8th)

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Delia Gonzales & Gavin Russom – Track 5.  In everyone’s life there’s one album that has a disproportionate pull on you.  Something that, ‘objectively’ is very good, but which has an almost supernatural hold on you above and beyond that. An album which can evoke pure moments of transcendent bliss.  Imagine if, after five years a missing piece was released.

Delia Gonzalez & Gavin Russom – Track 5 (New Post)

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Hounds of Hate: Head Anthem. Organic ghost machine music that circles the sleeping victim like a shadow pygmy tribe armed with ancient spells of compelling abstraction.

Hounds of Hate- Purple Stuff (Posted November the 2nd)

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Hunx and his Punx: Gay Singles. Nuggetbagging, rather than teabagging. John Waters would be proud.

Hunx and his Punx- U Don’t Like Rock and Roll (New Post)

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Hype Williams: Find Out What Happens When People Stop Being Polite and Start Getting Reel.

Perchance the last addition to these terminal celebrations, and a timely one. Hype Williams have animated 20jazzfunkgreats séances with feeric liquors over which glide pixies imported from Chicago and Kingston, shouting their wares in a cloud of voodoo tags. Their gift is a graphic novel of panels that blur in Steranko fever. Sade drowns in an ocean of pavement syrup, while the chaotic transmissions of a thousand pirate radios converge in the neon sky above, like a Batman sign for much darker heroes

Hype Williams- The Throning (new post)

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International Feel: The Coptic Sun.That apocryphal chapter of Invisible Cities that Italo Calvino wrote under the influence of a particularly strong strain of Peyote, or the destination point of Conan’s pilgrimage if Thulsa Doom was only a conduit into the psychedelic stargate, rather than a dirty reptilian worshipper.

International Feel: The Coptic Sun (Posted September the 30th)

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Male Bonding: Nothing Hurts. Mixtape fodder for teenage punk heroes.

Male Bonding- Weird Feelings (new post)

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Mi Ami: Steal your Face. A growing crescendo calling out across decades of electric guitars, rusting in the salt heavy sea air.

Mi Ami- Dreamers (Posted April the 9th)

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Paul Rosales: Wonder Wheel I.  ‘Crimes’ is exactly the sort of thing we wanna hear when we’re selling out, its unselfconsciously wrought unplanned energy is our 20 inch rims, its atonality is our leather dashboard which we caress whilst cruising illicit streets to do deals with shadowy figures who hand us parcels full of the highest grade low fidelity shit which we now sell to you at the vastly inflated price of £0

Paul Rosales- Crimes (Posted July the 8th)

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Plug: S/T. This is our minimal wave. DIY electro-pop to take over your life.

Plug- Don’t Forget It (New Post)

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Pocahaunted: Make it Real. Block rocking beats that Big Daddy Kane could have freestyled over as delivered by the Shaggs’ feral skull faced reverse.

Pocahaunted- Make it Real (posted May 17)

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Skeletal System – s/t & Small Talk.  This is our dream-pop: full of watery ill defined shapes and haunted guitar lines.  Will surely be placing highly on Peel’s Festive Netherworld 50.

Skeletal System – Dialogue (posted April 23rd)

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VA: Deutsche Elektronische Musik. The sounds that rebuilt Germany, and built us.

Gila- This Morning (Posted May 11)

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As a bonus, we leave you with Harrison Owen’s video for Excepter’s Anastasia, included in The Late EP in Woodsist, riding the razor edge between sex and violence in the best tradition of the Psychoterrorist squad that taught us all, and the most fucked up of all transcendental meditators (circa Nadja, and pumped on colour).

We wish you a twisted transition across the no-man’s land between Christmas and the end of the Year, we shall be waiting for you on the other side.

Two bands return to the pages of 20JFG today each bringing their own assimilation of machine music to bear on a suspecting world. Each responding to the past with snatches of sounds from machines long dead, arranged, repurposed and re-slaved to the beat.

Excepter return to beguile with their ghostly scrapings and primeval techno. Castle Morro drifts in among a thick mist of clattering percussion, slowly giving way to shaken static and the propeller throb of looped electronics. The Gristlised tones drawing steadily nearer, enveloping, until they’re upon you at which point, from the deep, a bulkhead thudding beat surfaces. Synths scatter down through the ether dragging the sea-level throb towards the stars until, inverse to their arrival, they suddenly disappear.

This track is taken from their CDLP/DVD ‘Black Beach’ on Paw Tracks which you can buy here.

Excepter – Castle Morro

20JFG’s favourite Franco-Krautrock insurrectionist Turzi also returns this month with the alphabetic inevitability that is ‘B’. The penultimate track on the album, Bogota submerges its throbbing metronomic beat under opposing layers of guitars competing for space, with serrated synth stabs keeping peace between the two. Like a cross cutting prelude to a blood slick giallo money shot, the internal divisions of the track rise to the surface and recede, each having their moment of prominence before fading back into the night.

You’ll be able to order ‘B’ from Record Makers on it’s release next week here but I’m sure it’ll not be too hard to find in your local record store.

Turzi – Bogota

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For those of you in NYC, your faithful Stateside XXJFG brother will be djing at a few things tomorrow in conjucture with CMJ. First I’ll be playing at the True Panther showcase which happens at Pianos, and where Restless People, Janka Nabay, Glasser, Delorean and Lemonade will be doing their thing.

Later on in the evening I’ll be DJing again from 2.00 a.m. at the mammoth sized Pitchfork party which has been set up as a benefit for Showpaper. The whole thing commences at 1.00 p.m. with the awesome likes of Cold Cave, Javelin, and Small Black playing live til Midnight, at which point the DJs take over and play til 7. Basically it’s going to be zombifying.

Are Excepter the techno Liars? Maybe Excepter are Liars, doing some wicker-tech-house on the side wearing man-suits to conceal they’re true identities, Buffalo Bill style – cos after all, theres only so much deep, dark forest prancing a fine fellow can take before the damning isolation drains any ounce of humanity from him and all he can do is coil himself into an angry spring and let rip a violent refrain on the next poor unsuspecting back-packer who stumbles a little too close to that supposedly deserted old shack on Mt. Heart Attack. Angus reads aloud from Black Hole backwards whilst the rest of the band chow down on the remains.

Excepter – Shots Ring

Shots ring, shots of rotten wood-peg bullets from the smoking wicker gun pieced together with hog spit and tree sap, brap! There is no escape from the night sweats that Excepter induce with nasty feedback alarm synths and patterns from drum machines that live in caves on islands located in the Bermuda Triangle.

Slapping you awake at the witching hour, a tall dark figure unfurls tales of demonic ideals into your ear, making you follow the far off echo of the screaming sacrifical females that plead for rescue. You reluctantly go whilst keeping an eye on the throbbing firelight on the swaying treeline.

Check Excepter’s new LP out on Paw Tracks soon. Kudos on the fetching American Apparel mint coloured album sleeve.

Now here is true horror.

I like to think that Kevin Ayers held a seance in a cosmic rebirth archway of crumbling bricks and mortar spinning through space just outside of the universe (where the dead are) to record Nico’s part for this after her bitterly sad passing. Thats probably not true, but its a nice idea and would explain the tense terror that this track has, it would make sense that it would have a real ghost on it.

Kevin Ayers & Nico – Irreversible Neural Damage

Kevin plucks the strings in a sinister spinning repetition while the organ sounds barely register as black whisps underneath. Then Death takes to the piano and lays his cold boney hands upon the keys. This ushers in the first demon, punching out from the top of Kevin’s skull as it mimics Kevin’s voice as if it were doomed to ricochet around slimy walls of graveyard tombs in darkest Paris for all eternity. Then Nico, the second demon, decends from a tear in the skies shrouded in antimatter, eyes blazing white with miasma spilling from her rasping throat. The birds fall dead from the sky. Trees and plants wither to dry blackened husks and die. Then it ends in an instant.