We're Late For Class: #31 Transmissions Vol. 2: The LSD Sessions

#31 Transmissions Vol. 2: The LSD Sessions

More random transmissions from the void, this one with a theme... The LSD Sessions, though, we're not saying why. We will say that we thought each of these improvisational jams were about 30 minutes long. For optimum enjoyment, we're advising drug use, though local authorities may frown on the practice.

Listen

67 (4:23)
Closing Ceremonies (At The Beastie Boys' House) (5:27)
Buttery Hog Mosh (8:49)

Free 320
LOSSLESS

18 comments:

Anonymous12:07 PM
It's about time!! Been waiting with baited breath for this, will listen later. Let you know if it's up to your plodding standards.
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We're Late For Class1:14 PM
Don't forget the drugs.
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Anonymous7:45 PM
Smashing! As is Vol. 1. Simply stated, original and vivifying. Thanks folks. Will soon hear more new ones, I hope...
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Anonymous9:42 PM
My GOD no plodding, what happened?
Meandering sure, psych okay.

Loved it, tunes were just a little too short. Need more <20 minute tunes.

Jeff
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We're Late For Class12:24 AM
Thanks rev,
Thanks for helping us write the press kit.
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Anonymous12:26 AM
My pleasure!
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We're Late For Class12:30 AM
Jeff,

We think you might be referring to our early Plodding Period (sometime around mid-March). We've moved on beyond that now (by at least 20 days). It'll probably come around again when we run out of ideas, again (expect sometime in late September). As for the length, think of it all as one long tune, with changes.
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Anonymous11:38 AM
Thanks, I'll bogart my joint, my friends

Eggman
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Anonymous10:31 AM
Even though someone bogarted my joint, I highly enjoyed your music. Thanks again!

Eggman
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Anonymous6:26 AM
the best yet? excellent stuff, i tried it with 2 paracetamol and 20 hermesetas - sweet sweet music you scamps.
Can't believe a record label hasn't latched on by now
looking forward to the next installment
scav
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We're Late For Class9:39 AM
Thanks Scav
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CATASTO ELETTRICO4:46 PM
Hi folks,
no words for your words about our last release... and above all, many thanks for listening to it with so much attention to write such things... the most detailed review we ever had... the bad thing is that when one day you'll write something negative about our future music, we will be obliged to believe you... the good thing is that your words give us the faith not to be so crazy as we think we are when we listen to our sessions and consider it cool...
now, let's hope that our friend mike-floyd@homemade-lofi-psychedelic would organize an Indie Bands' World Festival somewhere someday... ;-)
thanks also for the splendid pair of coverarts of the two Transmissions volumes and, regarding the music, you know we feel brothers in soul...
BTW, thanks for the definitive switch to Sharebee, so friendly 'till it lasts...
cheers and keep up
Catasto Elettrico
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We're Late For Class5:32 PM
Hi CE,

You know we've always been friendly and supportive of each other (along with a few other musician/band friends, too), but for those that don't understand our private messages here, let us just let them know what we're talking about.

We are crazy about Catasto Elettrico's 7th release, Radio. It's absolutely wonderful... and anyone interested in top notch improv with style, color and invention need to stop by your place and grab Radio immediately. It really is a stunner! We've always liked what you guys do, but after Micro, and now Radio, we REALLY like what you guys do. We're ALL big fans in a big way.

We hope none of our other supportive friends are insulted by the raves - because we like all kinds of music. But you guys have just struck the right chord with what you do and how you do it. We hope everyone that stops by here to hear our stoned ramblings will stop by your place to hear how modern improv with a sense of history should be done. You won't be disappointed.

Thanks for the note guys. Thanks more for the music.
WLFC
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CATASTO ELETTRICO7:07 PM
Thanks is as always not enough, friends...

The modern music "with a sense of history" movement is growing, and a big part of it lays in this page and in many other pages of Blogland and crosses borders and oceans as a part of an unique musical breath, as the mike floyd's compilations we all display in our pages are there to demonstrate.
Maybe the Festival idea could be not so crazy... ;-)

Many thx once more
CE
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mike-floyd4:33 PM
A festival...?
Hmmmm... Maybe some day.Who knows?

Great work – as expected – by the way.

Cheers,
mike-floyd
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Snoose Junction2:07 AM
Here's a free one for y'all broke college students:

http://snoosejunction.blogspot.com/2008/09/free-album-download-sonarchy-radio-5s.html

...a 23-minute jam, a 32-minute jam, and a 4-minute coda, for those requiring serious length and girth

diggin the LSD sessions - thanks for the tones!
SJ
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We're Late For Class11:42 PM
Thanks guys,
Love the wired psych drone.
WLFC
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mick552:17 AM
Track 1
Mellow. spacy and more fun than Porcupine Tree's "Voyage 34".

Track 2
Steven Wilson turns up and adds prog touches and rhythm to the ambience.

Track 3
The ambience returns like Klaus Schulze at an Ash Ra Tempel reunion.
Cosmic Couriers meets Cosmic Jokers.

Alles Ist Gut in the Land of Lo-Fi.
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PRESS THANKS...

Thanks to the late, great Fred Dellar at MOJO Magazine for mentioning Art Jackson's Atrocity AND We're Late For Class in two separate "Ask Fred" columns, where he called the Atrocity's Gout a "fine, percussion-fuelled, invigorating free-for-all," and also saying, "we at Ask Fred are glad WLFC exist." Thanks Fred!

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Many thanks to Jeff Fitzgerald over at Psychedelic Waves for including Art Jackson's Atrocity in his list of Top 30 Albums of 2019, calling Tribute To Sun Ra... "Some great, exploratory, tripped out Sun Ra inspired free jazz," and "a terrific album." Needless to say, we're shocked. Since we never sent the guy a dime. Thanks Jeff.

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Thanks to Roz Milner for the two interview/articles posted at Bearded Gentlemen Music, "Solving the Mystery of Art Jackson Atrocity’s Gout," and the most recent, "With His Back To The Crowd: Art Jackson’s Atrocity’s Live In Europe - Lost Live Jazz Recording."

We collectively appreciate the creative interest and the well-groomed ink.

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Thanks to It's Psychedelic Baby Magazine for the article, "Maybe It’s Time To Take Art Jackson’s Atrocity Seriously." Maybe.

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AN ACTUAL RECORD REVIEW...

ART JACKSON'S ATROCITY

Gout

(Unreleased 1974 Promo On Columbia Records)

Reviewed by Joe Kenney @

Julian Cope Presents Head Heritage

If, like me, your favorite era of Miles Davis is his electric era, specifically the 1973-1975 years in which Pete Cosey was his guitarist, then you’ve probably wondered why that super-fantastic lineup of his never cut an album together, after Miles decided to retire in late 1975. I mean, they were the greatest group in history, with Pete Cosey’s phenomenal, psychedelic guitar (the man was beyond Hendrix, that’s all there is to it), Reggie Lucas’ wah-wah’d grounding rhythm guitar, Michael Henderson’s dub-like basslines…hell, I can’t go through all of them, but if you know them, you love them. But if you’ve ever wondered what an album by this super group sans Miles would sound like, well my friends, I give you Gout, by Art Jackson’s Atrocity.

Only thing is, you’ll have to hunt the blogs for it. Recorded in 1974, the album was cut as a promo by Columbia, who then went on to drop both the group and the album, which is unreleased to this day. “The horror…the horror…” No one’s sure why (info is slim to none on this group and album), but most rumors have to do with Art Jackson’s drug abuse. In any case, the album has perfect sound quality – the only source is the promo LP, of course, and it sounds phenomenal.

The Miles connection surfaces again: Art Jackson was a twenty year-old guitarist whom Miles Davis himself recommended to Columbia records. Apparently Davis even funded the recording of the album. The Atrocity was put together around Jackson, an 11-member collective of hard-rockin’, psychedelia-lovin’, jazz-playin’ motherfuckers (two saxophonists, four drummers, two keyboardists, a guy on reeds, a guy on bass, a guy on “effects”), none of whom I’ve ever heard of (much like Art Jackson himself).

The five long tracks on Gout center around Jackson’s guitar, and the kid is Pete Cosey reborn; the stuff on here sounds almost identical to what Cosey was performing on the Agharta and Pangaea albums. That same sort of fucked-up, psychedelic distortion which goes from raging and chaotic one moment to spaced-out drones the next, the strange tunings, the works. Only thing is, unlike Cosey, Jackson’s not above playing a power chord or three, so the album packs a definite metal-rock punch. I mean, it’s fantastic, the whole thing.

The superbly-named “Shaft In Afghanistan” opens the album. Jackson’s guitar is on super-fucked mode, sounding like a cyclic tone. The rhythm section lays down a menacing, throbbing track, which Jackson and the sax & reeds proceed to riff over. Jackson soon leaves the actual “song” to the others, instead riffing and roaring with all manner of guitar sounds across the track. He’s everywhere, from wah-wah to thick distortion to cosmic fuzz. Things cool down three minutes in, but it’s only a fake-out; the track comes right back in. Jackson funks it up on wah-wah, with studio-tricked handclaps providing additional percussion. There's all sorts of electronic gimmickry on the album; this isn’t just some quickly recorded demo. This eventually calms down again into a sort of funky ambience – but it’s just another fake-out! The track rips right back up, the drums so superbly recorded (and no doubt closely-miked) that they seem to pound within the caverns of your skull.

“Arabian Fabian” (another great title!) comes in with total menace, until a faux-lite jazz tune pops up. Funky, proto-drum’n’bass drum kit and sax. But this soon becomes something altogether un-lite. Echoed murk creeps across the track, eerie wails, treated reeds, and dubbed-out sax bleats. Those close-up drums kick in and we’re in an altogether heavier, funkier groove. The first half of the track belongs to the Atrocity, with Jackson throwing in brief fills and licks on his mutated guitar. Things collapse into psychedelic ambience at the five-minute mark; free jazz with plinking guitar and tapped cymbal. But ominous guitar fuzz hovers in the distance, a starving wolf preparing to attack. John Carpenter keyboards arise and give the track even more of a horror-movie feel. But it’s a ruse; the piano takes over, playing a melancholy melody as the other instruments recede into the murk. This doesn’t last. Those ultra-loud drums kick the shit out of you again, jumping out of nowhere, and suddenly we’re into the strangest of strange: ambient free jazz with heavy metal drums. The track eventually wears itself out, descending back into the murk from whence it came.

“Available Bush” sounds like some early ‘90s industrial mash, with in-your-face drums and ripping and roaring Ministry-esque guitar. The track throbs on an off-kilter funk grove, Jackson heading the proceedings with the twists and turns of his guitar. The sax plays a faux-Middle Eastern counter-melody to his blasts and blares. The bassist throws in a few snake-like fills of his own, but his instrument sounds anemic compared to Jackson’s acidic distortion. This one humps along for seven minutes which quickly pass by, never establishing anything beyond that off-kilter groove, but never suffering for it.

“Tomato Reign” is the epic of the album, 16+ minutes of cosmic echo and free jazz. It crawls out of the murk in the opening moments, ethereal and disjointed fills from the assembled players. Things continue in this dubbed-out vein for a few minutes; nothing on the level of the Taj Mahal Travelers, but close…along the lines of the last half of Miles’ 1975 shows, when Cosey et al would let it all hang out in improvisatory bouts of experimental noise and abstraction. Pounding, tribal drums which pop out and then disappear. Bleated sax fills which float across the sound spectrum. Even animalistic grunts, growls, and screams from the group. This culminates in ultra-fucked guitar from Jackson, sounding again like some cyclic tone from hell, and then someone (a group member? a sample from some obscure film?) states in the calmest tones, “Fuck her. Let her rot.” A few more minutes of banging, echoed drums and bleating, mournful fills from the sax, and that’s it: the freest noise-skronk ever comes to a close.

“Let’s go!,” someone yells, and we’re straight into the pounding, pissed-off proto-metal of the title track, “Gout.” This is the rock version of the preceding track, another rhythmless excursion into all things free, only packing a wallop in the guitar distortion and overall menace. It pounds and snarls for six minutes, never finding a groove, preferring to live in its own sonic hellhole of chaotic din. Finally it builds to a climax of sorts, with a few final bashes on the drum kit, and the record’s over.

To be fair, you can see why Columbia refused to release this. Gout is the type of album you’d only find on some free jazz label or, if it was recorded today, some ultra-hip indie label. But Columbia in the mid-1970s? Releasing this groundless swell of jazz-metal ambience? Hard to believe. But those master tapes are out there, somewhere, as is the full story of what exactly happened to Art Jackson and his Atrocity. In the meantime, we can only listen to their one recorded album, and wonder.