As part of my ongoing An Album A Day series, I have been digging through my purchases (or “finds” as they’re called on certain douchey online message boards) from this past weekend’s WFMU Record Fair. So far I’ve spilled a little ink about Friends Of Dean Martinez and Bongripper. Now that I officially have all my purchases here in my bedroom with me, I’m noticing a trend towards buying more newer releases than vintage titles. Honestly, as I flipped through various dealers’ wares last weekend, there weren’t enough clean, moderately priced vintage albums to satiate my thirst. When you already own so many albums it’s less about finding a beat-to-shit mono yellow-label promo copy of Velvet Underground & Nico with the torso cover for $100, and more about finding something that’s sharp and clean that I’ve been lusting after, or a particular title that will complete a certain’ artist’s discography on my shelves. That’s why I was so happy to stumble over a still-sealed copy of Cows‘ first album, Taint Pluribus Taint Unum on Saturday afternoon.
I’m not gonna lie, I’ve only ever seen one copy before (a tortured, crappy copy at Amoeba a few years ago) so to find an unopened original from 1987 was an eye-popping moment for me. It was priced fairly at $40, but to me it’s worth a lot more because it has remained the only album of theirs I didn’t own ever since I started my record collection. Yeah, I could have bought that one at Amoeba back in the day (I think it was $17 or $27?) but I remember looking at how scratched it was, and how bent and mangled the corners of the cover were, and telling myself someday I’ll come across a better copy. Since it’s harder to find something better than new and sealed, I had to pull the trigger when I saw it. The same dealer sold me a copy of Out Of The Tunnel by MX-80 Sound, and a copy of the first Virginia Astley album for my co-worker. You guys are hip to her, right? No relation to Rick. Relation to Edwin (father) and Jon (brother). Her first one, From Gardens Where We Feel Secure, is incredible.
When it comes to a band like Cows, I’d prefer NOT to bore you with biographical information or a mini-review of the album because it’s been done a zillion times already. Instead of mundane details, I’ll just tell you that I first heard about the band from the Electrical Audio Message Board way back in 2003 I think? And from the opening strains of “Shaking” on Daddy Has A Tail (“Yo girl I love it when you make my asshole bleed / That’s when I get the shakes inside me”) it was love at first listen. This album is almost as old as I am by now, and I’m not going to say anything revelatory about it that hasn’t already appeared online or in some cool ‘zine from the ’80s. Mark Prindle has long been one of my favorite music journalists, and since they’re one of his favorite bands, I’ll copy and paste HIS words about Taint Pluribus Taint Unum because I respect the hell out of him:
Look, I know it sounds like just a bunch of noise, but listen closer! The bassist kicks all sorts of ass in a slightly Birthday Party/Scratch Acid vein (but heavily distorted at all times); the guitarist, regardless of his teeny amp, is actually creating a very interesting wash of notes, chords, and noises (especially in “The Pictorial” and “Weird Kitchen”); and the singer sounds pleasingly young, punky, and rednecky. Every song on here has a distinct melody, too – a couple are even normal-sounding (“Carnival Ride” and “Red House” might as well be Aerosmith songs, they’re so normal…but good!). The star is the bassist, though. He anchors all the songs so they don’t just drift away down the river of tuneless racket at the hands of a hyperactive guitarist who plays too fast and a drummer (bassist Kevin’s brother) who we could call “the Keith Moon of cowpunk” if it wasn’t such an obnoxious thing to call a human being.
So what you got herein is a bunch of high-pitched guitar noise with catchy bass lines – sometimes blues-influenced, sometimes punk-influenced, always drug-influenced. Let’s call it a cross between Flipper and Halo Of Flies, and let’s all buy it twice, okey-dokey?
And how about them words? Gross, eh? Dog poop? “Mother (I Love That Bitch)?” Fie! Actually, the strange thing is that vocalist Shannon Selberg is a much more poetic lyricist than you would expect. He doesn’t just write crap down; he comes up with a concept and an emotion, and then lets it take him where it will. Sometimes it’s basic faux-redneck humor, other times it’s near-brilliant insight into the way we think and live. On this particular album, it’s mostly the humor thing, but he would grow! We all grow! Such energy! Such verve! They named their publishing company “Asbestos Diaper!!!!”
So there you have it. God I’m happy I can finally cross this off my want-list.
Cows
Taint Pluribus Taint Unum
(Treehouse – TR 007, 1987)
A1. Koyaanisqatsi
A2. Cow Jazz / Car Chase
A3. Sieve
A4. Yellowbelly
A5. On Plasma Pond
A6. Redhouse
B1. Carnival Ride
B2. The Pictorial
B3. Tourist
B4. Summertime Bone
B5. Mother (I Love That Bitch)
B6. Weird Kitchen [MP3]
