the incompleat… #4
Tuesday, August 30th, 2005Melbourne’s This Is Serious Mum took a highly cavalier attitude to their 1995 box set Complete Recordings 86-94. For one thing, the earliest recording on it was from 1981, and for another they left off about a third of the Hot Dogma album simply on the grounds that it isn’t very good (the vinyl edition had also been truncated on release in 1990, but with different tracks omitted). Not much of a surprise, since TISM’s entire existence has been played as an extended cock-snooking at the music industry.
For the collector nerd, though, their attitude can sometimes prove frustrating: a 2002 singles compilation, Best Off, used the original 7″ version of debut “Defecate On My Face” (a martial love-ballad from a bunker-bound Adolf to Eva Braun, released in a 12″ sleeve with all sides glued shut), but replaced some songs with versions from a 1996 live album, and skipped all other opportunities for actual single versions.
Such as this 7″ issue of “Saturday Night Palsy”, from the Great Truckin’ Songs Of The Renaissance LP. One disc of the record was proper songs recorded in a studio; the other was interview snippets, demos, live readings of poems and the occasional actual song for light relief, and bore the legend THIS RECORD IS NOT AS GOOD AS THE OTHER ONE around the label. Similarly, the single was subtitled This version is better than the one on the album - though not good enough to ever warrant re-release, apparently. It probably is a whole new recording (anyone want to side-by-side and check?), but the most significant difference is that the opening couplet was changed from “Well I don’t want to live and I don’t want to die/I want to shoot heroin through the eye” to the slightly more radio-friendly “…want to stick a red-hot poker through the eye.”
TISM - Saturday Night Palsy (7″ version)
Buy:
It’s a bit of a fucking mystery actually. Shock don’t seem to be carrying the Complete Recordings since TISM bailed for FMR. FMR don’t seem to be carrying the Best Off, or indeed anything, since their acquisition and reissue of the back catalogue was a flop. You can at least get their latest, The White Albun from Madman Video, who released it as a package with a retrospective DVD and another DVD of a fake benefit concert (Save Our TISM). Come to think, this version of Palsy is probably in the video clip on that.
and a Bond cover on Fierce Panda, the follow-up “Disco Machine Gun” was in the shops for about a week before lawyers stepped on an obvious Breeders sample (that didn’t even get a solo in the 7″ version! [or radio edit, whatever it was called]). The song got re-recorded for the album later as “Blisters On My Brain”, but the way the sample struggles out of the murk of the long build and then collapses into the verse after a couple of seconds really works as a signifier - now we’re getting into the meat of the song! Insult was presumably added to injury when, a year or two later, Moguai (was it?) put out a single that basically consisted of the same sample on a loop for four minutes while an unattended 303 farted along with it…
Pigeonhed track for that group’s Emergency Overflow Cavalcade Of Remixes project, the band decided to revamp their remix and include it on the debut album, How To Operate With A Blown Mind. Fair dos - they’d rewritten enough music and recorded new vocals to mix with the original’s, it was certainly enough of a Lo-Fi track by now for them to be proud of it. Unfortunately, while P-hed’s label Sub Pop was manufactured and distributed by Warner Bros, the Lo-Fi’s patron Skint was now in a M&D/licensing marriage with Sony - and all of a sudden, Warner publishers took objection to a slab of Prince-derived lyrics that Shawn Smith had used without controversy in the original song - having had their previous single withdrawn, the band now saw their album yanked from the shops and had to quickly re-record the track with that bit of Smith excised.
so here’s a big one to cover the next four days, when I’m bolting interstate. The
But it loses points for including only the puny 7″ edit (and more for not admitting it!) of “Judge Fudge”. This and the b-side, “Stayin’ Alive”, were the last tracks produced by Oakenfold and Osborne, with the band at the height of their powers - before the disastrous spiral-and-fizzle of the last album and tour. “Judge Fudge” is a sinister howl, an exhalation from Ryder’s then-blackening depths that gains much of it’s power from the way the groove is allowed to build, Mark Day’s guitar cutting in over the top to presage the dirty grandeur that will eventually erupt. And “Stayin’ Alive” is a great re-invention of the Gibbs’ classic, funked up in the Mondays shambolic style - but again, much of the fun comes from how almost a minute is spent on a completely extraneous intro (nuff respect to yer actual disco stylee) before the original riff bursts out. Go on, play it to someone and see how long they take to pick it.
Walt Kelly, after early years working on corporate properties, spent several decades exploiting his own creation as much as possible.