The Electric Eels played five shows in Cleveland, lost their last venue to a lawnmower, and became a legend through one Rough Trade single and decades of archival releases.
In 1965, the biggest song in Peru was about blowing up a train station. “Demolicion” was a national radio hit, its band had its own television show, and its four members were teenagers from a middle-class Lima neighborhood who had never heard the American garage bands they are now compared to. Outside Peru, almost nobody [&h
The story of the Monks is almost always told as a costume. Five American GIs stationed at Gelnhausen, two German design graduates, shaved tonsures, black habits, a manifesto. It is a great story and it is also the least interesting thing about the record they made. What produced Black Monk Time was not an art […]
Fifty years after The Saints pressed 500 copies of (I'm) Stranded in Brisbane, the details show that almost everything later read as punk ideology was a practical workaround.
Hamilton's Simply Saucer cut a proto-punk classic in a basement in 1974 and on a mall roof in 1975. Nobody released it until 1989.
A two minute instrumental with no words, improvised at a 1957 Virginia sock hop, gave heavy guitar its two founding techniques. The lineage of Link Wray's Rumble.
