LP - Dead Moon - In The Graveyard (Mississippi reissue)
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P-70713
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ORIGINALS HAVE SOLD FOR OVER $50
Dead Moon most visibly reared their heads to the uninitiated in the 1996 documentary "Hype" as the wild-eyed, chuckling husband and wife leaning over a railing in front of what appeared to be an abandoned cabin in Nowheresville, Oregon, professing endless confusion about the grunge phenomenon if not the entire idea of an organized recording industry. And to the uninitiated, the two seemed to be from a completely different planet than the Kim Thayills and Eddie Vedders of the rest of the film. These two were not struggling with art versus commerce, no. They seemed to barely care about basic physiological needs such as food, clothing, and shelter. Oh the arrogance. Well, that same strange husband and wife, Fred and Toody Cole, had a long and staunchly DIY music "career" from 1978-2006, cutting their own LPs on the same mono lathe used on The Kingsmen's version of "Louie, Louie", issuing them in irregular but small quantities on their own Tombstone label with eerily nonchalant black and white covers, and largely forgoing touring in the U.S. in favor of European appearances. Original copies of their Tombstone releases regularly fetch well over $50, and have not been reissued in any reliable form until now, thanks to the prodigious Mississippi Records.
All of which whould be more than enough to wet your whistles, but what about the music? Well, on "In The Graveyard," the first Dead Moon LP, originally issued in 1988, you'll hear spooky scuzzed-out janglerock approximations of Wipers, Honeymoon Killers, even traces of early Tom Petty, humming with occult vibrations and filtered through Fred Cole's unglued yelp, a distinctive rock voice with the same midrange vocal-chord blowout as Peter Aaron of Chrome Cranks. Think Roky Erickson with his adenoids removed. The Toody Cole tracks come on just as intense, landing halfway between Kim Gordon at her most insistent and Leslie Gore's "You Don't Own Me." And if that sounds a little serious for your tastes, dig their version of "Hey Joe", just as garagey as you please and still true to the album's "maybe something bad happened here" sonic thesis. This is a dank slab of wax to be sure, mushed into shape in a workshop way out there in the dripping wet Oregon woods by a couple of folks who couldn't care less about the critcal or commercial reception. Some people whittle to keep sane. These guys rock. C'est la vie. RECOMMENDED.
0552015
Dead Moon most visibly reared their heads to the uninitiated in the 1996 documentary "Hype" as the wild-eyed, chuckling husband and wife leaning over a railing in front of what appeared to be an abandoned cabin in Nowheresville, Oregon, professing endless confusion about the grunge phenomenon if not the entire idea of an organized recording industry. And to the uninitiated, the two seemed to be from a completely different planet than the Kim Thayills and Eddie Vedders of the rest of the film. These two were not struggling with art versus commerce, no. They seemed to barely care about basic physiological needs such as food, clothing, and shelter. Oh the arrogance. Well, that same strange husband and wife, Fred and Toody Cole, had a long and staunchly DIY music "career" from 1978-2006, cutting their own LPs on the same mono lathe used on The Kingsmen's version of "Louie, Louie", issuing them in irregular but small quantities on their own Tombstone label with eerily nonchalant black and white covers, and largely forgoing touring in the U.S. in favor of European appearances. Original copies of their Tombstone releases regularly fetch well over $50, and have not been reissued in any reliable form until now, thanks to the prodigious Mississippi Records.
All of which whould be more than enough to wet your whistles, but what about the music? Well, on "In The Graveyard," the first Dead Moon LP, originally issued in 1988, you'll hear spooky scuzzed-out janglerock approximations of Wipers, Honeymoon Killers, even traces of early Tom Petty, humming with occult vibrations and filtered through Fred Cole's unglued yelp, a distinctive rock voice with the same midrange vocal-chord blowout as Peter Aaron of Chrome Cranks. Think Roky Erickson with his adenoids removed. The Toody Cole tracks come on just as intense, landing halfway between Kim Gordon at her most insistent and Leslie Gore's "You Don't Own Me." And if that sounds a little serious for your tastes, dig their version of "Hey Joe", just as garagey as you please and still true to the album's "maybe something bad happened here" sonic thesis. This is a dank slab of wax to be sure, mushed into shape in a workshop way out there in the dripping wet Oregon woods by a couple of folks who couldn't care less about the critcal or commercial reception. Some people whittle to keep sane. These guys rock. C'est la vie. RECOMMENDED.
0552015
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