Miss High Heel Update!
Oh my God... We're nearing the manufacturing phase of the Miss High Heel studio compilation, The Family's Hot Daughter. Prepare for serious fucking MAYHEM.
We're not offering the usual faux-tumult associated with "noise." Nah, these sessions captured genuine insanity.
I was fresh from a marital collapse and running off the goddamned rails, Azita was giving herself coffee enemas two or three times every friggin' day, Magas was pissed 'cuz he only received chocolate cherries and tube socks from his father on Christmas (consult the first Lake of Dracula album for details), Weasel was (temporarily) stymied in his efforts to break the blast beat barrier, Mike Green had better hair than all of the North Side combined and as a result local esteem stocks were plummeting (and, conversely, Jodi Mecanic had just given herself the worst perm in human history), Nandor was reduced to delivering pizzas for $5 an hour in Wicker Park, and O'Rourke kept buttonholing us about Van Dyke fucking Parks, as if we didn't know the music of the fat old cunt in the first place! The only "normal" members of the group were Falzone and Pisarri, and had their relative sobriety been used as any sort of metric, well, calculations would have been FUCKED.
If you were there, you knew.
Strap your asses in...
(Above, Trevor Brown's artwork for the MHH sleeve. Great thanks to Trevor and Blossoming Noise!)
--
(Jodie McCann, aka Jodie Mecanic, aka Odi M'Khan, as pictured on the sleeve of The Many Moods of Marlon Magas' Melt Your Gold EP, released a few months after the '96 MHH sessions on Vancouver's Scratch imprint. Jodie was then an amazingly fit and obviously very attractive gal (the very definition of erotic-neurotic), so detractors would have to be daft to complain about a self-administered permanent gone horribly awry. Yet, twats that we were, we did... It's right there in the photo, though slightly effaced through judicious cropping... I was in Magas' slice of the Arschloft space for the photo session with Jodie, and lemme tell ya, it was heart-stopping. [Not the perm, you idiots!] Any-fucking-how, both Marlon and Odi are brilliant on The Family's Hot Daughter... Complete gibbering madness and desperate Protean yowlp, coalesced in a staggered series of head blows...)
Yours,
Tom
We're not offering the usual faux-tumult associated with "noise." Nah, these sessions captured genuine insanity.
I was fresh from a marital collapse and running off the goddamned rails, Azita was giving herself coffee enemas two or three times every friggin' day, Magas was pissed 'cuz he only received chocolate cherries and tube socks from his father on Christmas (consult the first Lake of Dracula album for details), Weasel was (temporarily) stymied in his efforts to break the blast beat barrier, Mike Green had better hair than all of the North Side combined and as a result local esteem stocks were plummeting (and, conversely, Jodi Mecanic had just given herself the worst perm in human history), Nandor was reduced to delivering pizzas for $5 an hour in Wicker Park, and O'Rourke kept buttonholing us about Van Dyke fucking Parks, as if we didn't know the music of the fat old cunt in the first place! The only "normal" members of the group were Falzone and Pisarri, and had their relative sobriety been used as any sort of metric, well, calculations would have been FUCKED.
If you were there, you knew.
Strap your asses in...
(Above, Trevor Brown's artwork for the MHH sleeve. Great thanks to Trevor and Blossoming Noise!)
--
(Jodie McCann, aka Jodie Mecanic, aka Odi M'Khan, as pictured on the sleeve of The Many Moods of Marlon Magas' Melt Your Gold EP, released a few months after the '96 MHH sessions on Vancouver's Scratch imprint. Jodie was then an amazingly fit and obviously very attractive gal (the very definition of erotic-neurotic), so detractors would have to be daft to complain about a self-administered permanent gone horribly awry. Yet, twats that we were, we did... It's right there in the photo, though slightly effaced through judicious cropping... I was in Magas' slice of the Arschloft space for the photo session with Jodie, and lemme tell ya, it was heart-stopping. [Not the perm, you idiots!] Any-fucking-how, both Marlon and Odi are brilliant on The Family's Hot Daughter... Complete gibbering madness and desperate Protean yowlp, coalesced in a staggered series of head blows...)
Yours,
Tom
Comments
Also really psyched about all the upcoming items mentioned in the latest MySpace blog. You're one busy gang!
The psycho-state description sounds mental Tom. I'm excited about this release...
- Paul from Montreal
BB, the MS blog blag was no exaggeration - there's more stuff on the horizon, and older, unfinished projects still simmering on the back burner...
Paul, Trevor Brown's stuff isn't hard to find - he's created an impressive portfolio of work, and his paintings have graced album sleeves by Venetian Snares, Whitehouse, and many others. We were considering other design options, but Trevor's painting knocked us out. When we saw it, we knew we'd found it.
No vinyl edition planned at this juncture - the album is rather lengthy (around 70 minutes), and unless we sell a fuckload of 'em, we'll likely just go with the boring old compact disc.
Thanks for writing!
All the Best,
Tom
Thanks for posting,
TS