Angels of Obscurity: Alice Cooper – Pink Elephants / Journey to the End of the Night

Alice Cooper – Pink Elephants / Journey to the End of the Night 7” Single

Editions Dada (limited edition of 101), 1971

 

Lurching from the absurd to the sublime with the staggering gait of a drunken sailor, Pink Elephants consists of 3 distinct movements, each having little or no obvious relation to the others. The song opens with Alice singing a cappella, a rough but jaunty tune describing the destructive arc of four pink elephants on a rampage. Softly, softly the music fades in: a carnival orchestral which rises in intensity as the lyrics become increasingly nonsensical, only to come to a jarring halt just at the moment when things reach full swing. The second movement is a beautiful acoustic guitar piece graced by howls of derision from the band. At length the guitar winds itself down like a broken music box, leaving us with screams and yowls of joy or torment as they were white hot sparks of naked terror under penetrating moonlight for all of their rawness and intensity. Tender moments of silence are broken occasionally by shrieks and mutterings incomprehensible, whispered phrases fade in and out like deranged moths in a runaway subway car. The third and final movement resembles an Alice Cooper song proper, complete with full band and vocals. The lyrics follow the nocturnal perambulations of a retired civil servant who harbors a terrible secret, wandering through lost alleyways and deserted boulevards under the stars, communing with “angels of cinderblock and grammars of the midnight sun.” Overall, a powerful and beautiful piece, as compelling as it is perplexing.

Journey to the End of the Night seems to be a re-working of Return of the Spiders from the Easy Action LP. This version is quite a bit more fleshed out then the original, and features completely different lyrics. As in the original, the song is propelled by a steady driving riff, as if charting the perilous course of a train hurtling into the depths of a starless winter night through uncertain territory. The song is clearly an homage to Céline’s classic work. Direct quotes from the book find their way into the lyrics, which are spoken more than sung. The song rises to heights of violence and intensity unknown to the band at the time of the recording of Easy Action, though at no point does it surge off the tracks completely. Indeed, the course is maintained throughout, and the train rolls at last into the safety of the awaiting station.

Extremely rare, this one of twelve Editions Dada releases, each of which were distributed privately in a limited edition in the early 1970s. The song titles are only partly visible on the right hand side of the record sleeve, while the hand-stamped ‘DADA’ logo appears on the lower left corner (as with all Editions Dada releases). The b-side is plain and unadorned save for the lower half of the titles. Hijinks of this sort are typical of the Dada imprint. This lost gem fell into my hands at a very late stage of my fanaticism. The first of my Editions Dada finds (I’ve since found 5 more), I stumbled upon it quite by accident long after I thought that I had tracked down every last Killer era Alice Cooper outtake and bootleg to be had. Imagine my surprise.  

Angels of Obscurity: Public Image Ltd. – Behemoth / The Rite of Spring

Public Image Ltd. – Behemoth / The Rite of Spring 12” EP

Bastardo (unknown edition, clearly limited), 1980

I am quite certain that Behemoth is the most unfathomable piece ever produced by Lydon & co. (in this case, Levene, an un-credited Martin Atkins on drums, and perhaps others). Thundering bass drums accompany a cacophonous stream of what sounds like Tibetan ritual horns issuing sustained blasts which weave in and out of an exotic tapestry of exasperated anguish. Lydon’s shrill vocals howl with reckless abandon over the top of it all. The lyrics, consisting of a sort of prose poem in the style of Rimbaud at his most contentious, are at times submerged completely beneath the blasphemous tide (for there is nothing holy in this, at least not in the conventional sense), only to reemerge as if soaring with vengeance toward an invisible sun of penetrating diamond. There is much mystery and beauty in this, agonizing through it may be. At precisely the 2:22 mark, it all comes to a dead stop, followed by exactly one minute of silence. The piece is then wrapped up with a tremulous whimper from Lydon, fading into the all-consuming nothingness of eternal night.

The Rite of Spring is perhaps more along the lines of what might be expected to follow the art-damaged dirges of Metal Box. A rolling and meandering bass line carries twisted melodies wrenched indifferently from Levine’s guitar accompanied by a smattering of drums. The lyrics document an erotic encounter of a quite unusual kind, lacking neither affection nor disdain, perhaps inspired by Cavani’s ‘The Night Porter’ (Lydon mentioned the film as an inspiration in an interview for French TV sometime in late 1979). The ‘Rite’ in question bears no relation to Stravinksy’s Rite as far as I can tell, though it does seem to involve the letting of blood (or is that a strained metaphor?) Overall, a nice addition to the PIL oeuvre, but is it indeed a love song?

I have yet to track down a single item released on the mysterious Bastardo imprint other than this long lost Gnostic gem. The internet remains mostly mums about the whole affair, discounting the occasional oblique mention deep within the bowels of Usenet (from what I can gather, the entire operation was run out of a basement somewhere in Belgium). I scored my copy from a loquatious and rather opinionated war veteran (or so he claimed) who worked a record booth in a flea market in SeaTac, WA. Shockingly, he had not a single good thing to say about the gentleman who’d brought the item in the day before, nor did he approve of my choice of footwear.  

Angels of Obscurity: Dead Kennedys – The Typewriter with a Missing Key / Geiger Counter

Dead Kennedys – The Typewriter with a Missing Key / Geiger Counter 12” Single

Cherry Red, Secret Stash edition (limited to 111 pressings), 1979

The a-side of this rare unearthed punk gem lies somewhere between condemnation and satire, with perhaps a smattering of admiration thrown in for good measure. What are we to make of the poet-philosopher-cum-soldier Gabriele d’Annunzio? He turned the city of Fiume into a dada insurrectionist state in 1919, playing a sort of delirious master of ceremonies while Italian troops surrounded the city, perhaps themselves too perplexed and/or amused by d’Annunzio’s antics to take back the city by force. The lyrics seem to celebrate the conjunction of the artist and the psychopath, while at the same time recognizing the catastrophic effect such a conjunction brings to bear upon the lives subjected to it. The track begins with a militant drum beat before the caustic bass line sets in, followed by Biafra’s acidic vocals. The enigmatic title is somewhat of a mystery, perhaps Jello knows something we don’t? Indeed, I’m told that this record originally came with a reproduction of an English tabloid article from the time in which the events concerned occurred, but alas, mine is missing. Perhaps they might provide clue? Any further information would be greatly appreciated.

On the b-side, Geiger Counter recounts the wanderings of what may be the last man on earth as he searches for post-nuclear survivors while trying to avoid areas contaminated with heavy radiation. A slow and sonorous song fraught with reverb and echo, Jello’s voice pierces through the dense fog of sound like a dagger plunged into gasmask. The lyrics grow increasingly frantic and scattered as the song goes on, succumbing at last to a frenzy of paranoia inclined to gibberish. Pounding drums and jarring guitar lines pick up the pace at the very end, intensifying exponentially as the song fades to an icy silence which continues for a good 15 seconds before the needle reaches the inner limit of the vinyl.

This record is truly a lost gem. Good luck tracking down a copy! 

Angels of Obscurity: Black Sabbath - Sister Ray / Seraphim

Black Sabbath – Sister Ray / Seraphim 7” Single

Minotaur Records (distributed from Belgium), 1971

Slowed down quite a few notches and beset with a heaviness far exceeding that of the original, Black Sabbath’s cover of The Velvet’s ‘Sister Ray’ is nothing short of haunting. The chorus surges forth relentlessly like a storm tossed sea as the vessel thereon heaves to and fro under a starless sapphire sky, ever threatening to lose control as towering waves roll and break with the vengeance of an insane god. Ozzy wails Reed’s lyrics with reckless abandon tempered with a monotonous tremor reminiscent of such classics as Electric Funeral and Lord of this World. I would never have thought that a phrase so ludicrous as “too busy sucking on a ding-dong” could be delivered to such chilling effect.

Seraphim is a paean to the many-eyed, six-winged fiery serpents encountered by the Jewish people as described in the Old Testament Book of Exodus. The first half of the song features Ozzy’s lurid descriptions of the fiery angels interspersed with short licks from Iommi’s guitar, while the second half kicks into high gear, depicting the descent of the angels onto a sleeping city and the resulting havoc which befalls its terror-stricken inhabitants. The whole thing is simply beautiful, featuring some of the most poetic lyrics in the whole of Sabbath’s repertoire.

This hidden gem is easily the jewel in Minotaur Records’ crown. As with all in the Minotaur Special Dispatch series, this was extremely limited, and has never since been repressed. Perhaps it will be released as part of a retrospective package someday. Or perhaps not, as the band seems to have written it out of their history.