I think they're little fish.
Oh, Look!  They still have their eyes!


      Indie List Digest!

       October 2, 1995

     Volume 4   Number 40



	ADMINISTRIVIA: new archive
	Cosmic Groove
	Heeby Geeby
	T in the Park
	ANNOUNCE: New(ish) e-zine
	ANNOUNCE: Lower records catalog
	AD: Treiops Treyfid/Halogen split 7"


Welcome to another Indie-List.  Chi-centric, but we've got 
some net-news and europhilia to boot.

First, a handful of reviews from az and m'self...

Jenny Mae, Extra Glenns, Empty Bottle

Jenny Mae seems to be a Columbus, OH, favorite at this point, and she 
and 3/4ths of her band made a trek up here to Chicago.  She provided 
an interesting, if self-awarely drunken, opening for the Extra Glenns, 
with her simple synth elements behind curiously introspective vocals 
in a synergestic balance with her louder band to carry her along.  
What could be a rehash of singer-songwriter is empowered.  Pleasant 
stuff, this.

[i liked this better than eric, i suppose. the key word is fun with a 
capital F, with added bonuses of trumpet playing, 'boy, am i drunk!' 
jokes, and a killer closing number that jenny usually introduces as 
'the disco song.' -az]

John Darnielle and Franklin Bruno, the Extra Glenns, gave the audience 
a polite mix of their tunes.  Where John can seem spare in his role as 
Mt.  Goat, Franklin's guitar work, subtle and intricate, brings these 
same elements out in John's vocals.  And where the vocals are 
emotional on tape, seeing John giving them life, his body thrashing in 
his seat, heightens the experience.  You can buy the stuff, and you 
should, but the live show is important to understanding the whole.

Dianogah/dis-/Uzeda, the Empty Bottle

One thing I'm having to adjust to in Chicago is the crowded nature of 
so many shows.  This is good - a paying audience makes for repeat 
business, after all.  But it still surprises me.  This show, as I 
understand largely a labor of love by Rob of dis-, should have 
gratified his efforts severalfold.

Dianogah openned with a legit blend of math rock traits in their two 
bass and drums bag.  Dynamics, start and stop, but not a whole lot of 
the desired varience and creativity that I'd been wanting.

It's been a year or so since I last saw dis-, and they exceeded my 
expectations, high to begin with.  In the last year, they've grown 
from a powerful outfit, mathy in origin, but with a school of 
variation.  To the mix this show was added an element my friend Dave 
called simply "Rockin'." dis- just seemed to have matured nicely, and 
are more at ease with themselves astage.

Uzeda were who the audience were waiting for.  A four-piece from 
Sicily, they provided one of the most visceral experiences I've had at 
a rock show in some time.  Loud, disruptive songs with plenty of space 
in them.  But it's a dense space rather than a vacuum; dark particles 
inside the songs.  The new 4-song EP out on Touch n Go doesn't have 
the same mass of sound and freakout, but comes just as recommended.  
Which is highly.  Any band that can move an audience so fully, and 
from a stance that is unfamiliar, is aces.

A couple quick zine reviews, with more to come.  Beer Frame #5 is out, 
and is as good as ever.  Elements this issue include embalming 
services, the toothpick dispenser (cover-object for this issue), and 
an update on the M&M controversy.  Pick up your copy from the usual 
suspects, or for a mere $2 from Beer Frame, 160 St John's Place, 
Brooklyn, NY 11217.

Also out now is the paper product from the folks over at Sick-n-Tired, 
Escargot.  The first documentation of the melding of Indie Music and 
the 'net that I've seen, they look at things from various 
perspectives.  Some of your favorite musicians are here (John Davis, 
Franklin Bruno, Dan Fargo of godheadsilo, etc) talking about their net 
experiences.  A number of reviews originally published in Tasty 
Thread, a handful of excerpts from various mailing lists (e-mail 
plunder), translations of FAQs computing terms and concepts, and a 
good start resource listing to round it all out.  There's nits to pick 
- the layout has some eccentricities, and we all make typos - but it's 
a nice product to incite some thought.  And you get a 7" (far better 
than an AOL disk, I'd say) of John Davis, Lou Barlow, Dymaxion and 
Rula Lenska (the SF side of SnT, it looks like) in the bargain.  
Available for $4 from Escargot/Sick&Tired, 1230 Market St #224, San 
Francisco, CA 94102, or drop a line to tired@sirius.com.



From: Mark Cornick <mark@evol.resnet.jmu.edu>
ADMINISTRIVIA: new archive

Hi folks, remember me? (I'll write soon. Promise.)

I just wanted to let the list know that I've set up a back issue 
archive on my system.  It's available via FTP and WWW, and looks 
almost up-to-date.  I figured since I now have a direct, fairly speedy 
net connection, I might as well give everybody another alternative to 
the dreadfully slow uwp.edu.

WWW access:  http://evol.resnet.jmu.edu/indie/
FTP access:  ftp://evol.resnet.jmu.edu/pub/indie/

WWW is preferred since I'm running the honkin' new Apache server -
pretty damn fast. There's a 10 user limit on FTP so don't everybody go
crazy at once.

cruise yr new baby fly self,

Mark S. Cornick ** mark@evol.resnet.jmu.edu = cornicms@jmu.edu
http://evol.resnet.jmu.edu/~mark/ ** finger for PGP public key
kill the bass player, kill both bass players... kill the 3x bass
expansion unit, kill the drummer he can't play ------------ GVSB

[Add this to the list, folks, and don't forget the other archives in a 
pinch.  If you're ftp or www shy, there's the friendly service of 
archivist Chris Karlof (karlofc@seq.cms.uncwil.edu) to help you out as 
well!  -es]


From: Michael Hauben <hauben@cs.columbia.edu>
Cosmic Groove

REVIEW: Wetlands, New York City, Thurs, Sept 7, 1995, CMJ Too Pure 
Showcase & Friends

[Bands: Long Fin Killie, Pram, Jessamine, Laika, Sea and Cake]

[Disclaimer, other than hearing Laika's album, I am very unfamilar 
with any of these bands.  I will not even attempt a set list.  Sorry.]

I arrived as the second band of the evening, Pram were setting up.  In 
the background was playing some wicked dub electronic wild beats.  
Later I found out it was a DJ spinning, but just what I don't know.  
Anyway, it helped set the atmosphere of the evening - the groove.

Pram was a bunch of weirdos.  Female singer, drummer a Cheap Trick 
lookalike, and the guitarist in a glittery shirt.  Plenty of other 
instruments and players on the stage.  Previously I had only heard 
good things about the band from newsgroups and mailing lists.  First 
the positives: an incredibly tight band, good players, weird sounds.  
The result?  The most serious fun band I've heard in a long time!  
Their sound was just insane, crazyness from all around.  Very much an 
outer space type of vibe.  They put on a show that made me laugh and 
dance at the same time.  From the first chord, my smile did not leave 
until they left the stage.  What is even better was they were the 
cosmic groovers.  Really fun AND funny stuff.  A GREAT live show - 
see them if you get a chance and have a good laugh.  It feels good.

Next the DJ spinning some more wicked dub/groove/electronics - dunno, 
was this one of the Juggle DJs from the Monday night party, Konkrete 
Jungle?  Gotta find out as he was playing some wicked stuff - funky 
and hard.

Jessamine was the band with no eyes.  Pretty much the whole gig, all 
the band members (that I could see) had their eyes closed.  Not 
horrible, as they were playing some lovely drone, but still not very 
charismatic at the same time.  They actually had a great set - again, 
very groovy - out of this world bliss type music.  Drone, but 
punctuated by drums, etc.  Loved that Moog though - great sound 

DJ break again while equipment was broken down and Laika's set up.

Laika were also a very spacy type of rhymthic band.  Sadly the set was 
plagued by sound problems, vocals slowly becoming inaudible, and 
instruments gradually disappearing from the mix.  However, no one in 
the audience let that bother them and those onstage started joking 
about it eventually.  As CMJ is a media event, flashes were going off 
like fireworks ever few mins.  I never can understand how musicians 
can not be bothered by the constant picture-taking at these shows!  
Very bouncy, syth-lead songs - with rhumba and similar keyboard beats 
leading live drums, hand drums, guitar and bass.  Again, monster 
grooves that just carry you.  Live Laika was excellent.  I was even 
more impressed as I haven't quite gotten the hang of the album yet.

Last up was Sea and Cake.  To complete the evening, this was anther 
groove-heavy band.  However the vocals set me off, it was getting 
late, I needed to go to work in the morning and things were not 
clicking.  They seemed like a fine band, but the out of this world 
sound effects were missing and it just didn't seem to fit.  I'm sure 
they're a wonderful band, and I'll probably make sure to see them live 
again in the future.  However the night was over by then.

Again, three really good live bands with a outer space type groove.  
Don't miss this line-up if they are touring at all!

Michael Hauben Columbia College'95  Editor of Amateur Computerist Newsletter
          by day	hauben@cs.columbia.edu		by night
    <a href="http://www.columbia.edu/~hauben/">Netizen's Cyberstop</A>


From: bce2@midway.uchicago.edu
Heeby Geeby


The Belgian Waffles!, originally from Bloomington, Indiana, now based in 
Louisville, are a sextet (or more recently a quartet) which performs 
fast, often loose, music (improvisations and compositions) 
incorporating elements of various genres.  They are most distinguished 
by their audacity, plain and simple.  They brazenly attempt to play 
intellectually adventurous music with humour and without obvious 
training, thusly alienating snobs and lowbrows with a single stone.

Their most recent tape (February 9, 1995) is divided into a song side 
and a composition side.  The composition side, a single song credited 
to Waffle-man Dan Willems, drones and crackles, plonks and snaps.  
Tony Woollard sabotages a short wave radio, eliciting illicit squonk.  
Later there are three or four banjos and Tony's voice mumbling 
farm-talk babble.  Heather Floyd's drums crowd and threaten, invade 
your personal audio space.  It's surround-sound, in-your-face sound.  
When they played at Cary's Lounge on Devon Ave.  in Chicago some guys 
at the bar looked up from their Olde Styles to remark, "Hey, she's 
got, like, no rhythm."  They were wrong, of course.

The so-called song side recalls other rock bands playing songs with 
structures so complex they sound as if they have fallen apart.  This 
dichotomy between composed and improvised reminds me of Blowhole's 
masterfull "A Love Extreme" double LP.

I went back and listened to two of the Waffles! earlier tapes to 
gain (hopefully) some perspective.  "Bounty Killers" is from 1986.  
It's a collection of static and voices commenting on totalitarian 
control techniques.  At one point, a fair way through the tape, the 
static bursts begin to come in syncopatated time intervals.  Funky?  
Groove?  By the time I could type out my impression the moment had 

"D'Loose & Guitary" dates from Halloween 1989 and appears to be 
recorded live (according to the cheers and clapping that fill the 
pauses in the otherwise continuous onslaught).  Whereas the earlier 
tape was an abstract sound collage (composition side?) this performance 
highlights a clumsy but enthusiastic drummer and one-riff songs in 
the manner of Trash Can School or their L.A.  antecedents (song side?).  
As someone in the audience (?) shouts repeatedly throughout the 
performance, "Party!"  The best moments here are like a Hoosier 
basement party version of "Death Valley '69" complete with the 
clanging dissonant guitar.  The worst moments are like a Hoosier 
basement party.

"(Too Many) Dustballs", 5/3/93, features the debut of the tuneless 
trumpet, the bungled bugle, the hackneyed horn, a tortured instrument 
that dominates the first fifteen minutes of this tape.  No doubt when 
many first heard the freed saxophone of Ornette Coleman or Albert 
Ayler or even Charles Gayle, they thought, "Any little kid could do 
that."  Well, it took some real punk rockers to attempt to prove that 
theory, and guess what?  No dice.  "Ben 4 Tracks" was recorded 

Listening to this last tape of what my cohabitant has come 
to call "headache music," I started thinking about space, between 
instruments and between sounds and the lack thereof.  The Belgian 
Waffles! have created a dense, inpenetrable musical landscape.  It's 
like a city with no parks or boulevards or streets or alleys or 
sidewalks, where people climb through each others windows to get from 
one side of town to the other (the rooftops being crowded with air 
conditioners and satelite dishes).  The concept of polyphony, the 
complex, evolving negotions between several musicians in a band, was 
revolutionary in the early days of jazz when it was pioneered by the 
likes of Freddy Kepper and King Oliver.  But too much of a 
revolutionary concept can be a bad thing, and the Belgian Waffles! are 
often contrapuntal to a fault.

That said, I gotta say I dig their crazy sound, and I think they are a 
band that is only going to get better and better.  (Adept Recordings, 
Rufer Avenue #2, Louisville, KY 40204) 

Local Chicago band Broken Skin has recorded a demo tape that is 
making the rounds here in the Windy City.  I think it's evidence of 
just how fucked-up my reference points are getting that when I listen 
to the first song I think, "Breadwinner with vocals", or, "Superchunk 
con huevos" when I listen to the second song, instead of whatever mid 
to late '80s hardcore these guys were actually inspired by.  As an 
old radio buff I love the samples which proceed each song (especially 
the intro from the classic sci-fi show X Minus One).  The vocals are 
great, ragged, bulldog croaks and squeals of anguish, reminiscent of 
the stuff Joseph I or H.R.  used to be famous for before he turned his 
fickle attentions to pop reggae (of course now he's back with the 
Brains, but I haven't heard their new shit).  The last song reminds 
me of Gone, or those instrumentals Black Flag used to record, with all 
that way-out-there guitar athleticism.  This tape is a lot better than 
most debut singles out there.  [contact Broken Skin @ 312-227-5509] 

Columbo Knights: snatches of Depression-era big band broadcasts 
filtered through a wall of static, then the sound of a man violently 
trunced and whooped, someone wheezes and then more crackling swing.  
Aluminum hammer on stained glass, gentle guitar nips, Morse-code 
feedbacking back into itself, "Grrroah!"  The sound of unflinching, 
unfettered acceleration into oblivion.  This cassette appeared to be a 
series of random noises until about twenty minutes into the first side 
when it became some kind of ultra lo-fi tribute to Hasil Adkins backwoods 
guitar howls.  Then the Casio bossa nova beat comes in and the guitar 
ramblings continue and it almost sounds like rock music.  Side two is 
a bit more moody; explosions are played backwards while someone 
imitates Yosemite Sam warbling on about something.  By the time they 
decide to throw in the blues harmonica samples, the listener is so 
disoriented that even that familiar sound is hard to place.  A 
coherent composition or just a bunch of noise?  I read it as a kind of 
tip of the hat to American roots music that most people wouldn't even 
find fit for their garbage cans.

I wrote the above roughly two months ago.  Listening to the cassette 
again I am reminded of Robt.  Crumb complaining (in "Crumb", the 
movie) that people are only creating culture to make money nowadays.  
Culture is just another way to make a buck; just like everything in 
our society it's inextricably tied to its dollar value.  Well, this 
tape may be the first step in the opposite direction.  The whole 
package, not just the sounds.  You'd haftah be crazy or somptin tah 
pay money fr dis.  Right on.  (This is Destroy All Music cassette #13, 
and is available through E.F.  Tapes & Distribution, P.O.  Box 14013, 
Mpls., MN 55414-0013.)

The Farmers, "Black Sea" b/w "Devil": Bundy Brown always said that Joe 
Lucas embodied the spirit of the Farmers, and when he left, they just 
had to suck.  Well, before Mr.  Lucas departed they recorded this 
single with Iain Burgess for Pravda Records.  Simple, quick, bare-
bones songs that don't recall Beat Happening (the Farmers never heard 
of 'em, I asked), two guitars, drums, Buddy Holly vocals, it's easy to 
see how they could fit in on a folk label like Flying Fish (where they 
later ended up).  These are party songs which do just that.  Paul 
Crayton's (now with Slink Moss & the Flying Aces) lyrics add enough 
mystery to make the songs interesting.  His dark, primitivist posters 
for the band used to wallpaper Hyde Park and made me very curious to 
hear what they sounded like after I first moved to Chicago eight years 

One of the strangest weekend roadtrips I ever took was to Louisville 
as a roadie for the Farmers.  The road to Louisville was lined with 
the landmarks of their many previous trips.  Every offramp seemed to 
mark the burial sight of one of their tour van's many ancestors.  The 
Farmers were playing a show at Uncle Pleasant's with fellow Hyde 
Parkers Bastro (that incarnation of Bastro included Bundy Brown and, 
of course, David Grubbs, both of whom were living at Onshore, as well 
as John McEntire).  I guess the person who booked the show hadn't 
considered that the two bands had completely different sounds, and, 
for the most part, completely different audiences.  In fact the two 
were as different as two bands within the broad category of "Rock" 
could be.  In the end, the Farmers had to open for nominal local 
heroes Bastro (Grubbs is from Louisville), despite the fact that they 
obviously had more fans there.  As we packed up their equipment Bruce 
said, "Hey, they did their thing, and that's cool.  But we rocked man!  
We really rocked!"  "Bullgoose," Paul answered.  "Bull fuckin' 
goose," said Bruce.  (Pravda, Chicago, IL).



                     ++++ Free Mumia Abu-Jamal ++++
  ++++more info: http://www.calyx.com:80/~refuse/mumia/mumiadir.html++++
[reviews just like this can be found in Ben's Zine _Destroy Amerikka_, 
the new issue of which is to be out "veery soon."  And look for more 
of Ben's work in the next IL -es]


From: rented@merle.acns.nwu.edu

Team Dresch, Glen Meadmore, God Is My Co-Pilot, Room 13
@ The Fireside Bowl, 2648 W.  Fullerton, Chicago ...  couple of blocks 
off the Kennedy Expressway.

In Chicago, a couple of years back, "true punks" started using this 
veritable bowling alley as a venue for bands.  Only twice did I ever 
have the desire to see a show here at the Fireside Bowl: once last 
year for Bikini Kill, which I missed, and Saturday, 
September 2, 1995 for God Is My Co-Pilot, making their third public 
appearance in Chicago.

The show was brought to us by the straight-up "production" crew of 
HomoCore.  For me, this meant high admission price ($8, and the 
bowling alleys were closed!), free condoms and water-based lubricant, 
a table full of gay-friendly 'zines, and a wonderful audience.  "These 
are my people," I joked to fellow GimCo fans Blaise and Rosie.  In 
practice, the joke's a joke, but in my heart, it's the real thing.

Go to and support HomoCore.  Audience members: lots of punk-rock 
teeny-boopers for this all-ages show; a couple of really tough 
leather-men; several possible transvestites (the garish flourescent 
lighting did them no justice); real children under the age of five; a 
couple of parents picking up their punk-rock teeny-booper kids.  All 
nattily dressed and ready for action.  Particularly included was one 
of the principal players in Rose Troche's movie "Go Fish" --- Wendy, 
the woman who played the black professor.  I had met her at a party 
about six months ago and she only vaguely remembered me but was 
friendly just the same.  If you ever see her at a show, feel free ...  
"the girl is out there."

Ever seen a band play at a bowling alley?  Where do the bands play?  
They played on a make-shift stage behind the front of the lanes, in a 
corner of the room.  Fireside Bowl has baout 15-20 lanes so it's 
pretty sizable, and it actually turned out to be a good place to see a 
band.  There were some of those bowling seats (though they faced away 
from the stage), and no theatrical-lighting.  The flourescents that 
wer eused illuminated the band and the audience equally and 
adequately.  Blaise said that the large crowd (bad guess of about a 
100 people) was unusual for the Fireside, yet I never felt crowded at 

The gritty: I intentionally missed all but GimCo.  Sorry.

GimCo was more hard-core then when I last saw them in Chicago, at the 
Czar Bar.  Sharon Topper did not bring her soprano saxophone; instead, 
she had her melodeon and her harmonica.  Mr.  Flanagan seemed quite 
intent to raise the noise-quotient in his guitar.  Maybe it was the 
portable and rentable p.a.  The cellist (do I detect a Tom Cora and 
the Ex influence here?) was drowned out but when he came through, or 
when you can discern his sound, you dug it.  Sharon had weird thingys 
in her short-cropped hair.  This did not distract from their sound.

They did not play many of their punk-folk Yiddish tunes (Topper quoted 
in the Village Voice: "I'm Jewish.  I'm a musician.  You figure it 
out." Whatever.  The girl is out there.).  They stuck mainly to their 
mesh of one a half minute songs ..  which pleased me just fine.  
Between songs, they talked more ...  even giving away what I think was 
some copies of their 'zine.  Sharon said something about how all bis 
and gays should love one another ...  "except me!" which reminded me 
of that hitch that her and Craig are married.

Finally, I'd just like to add that I was mistaken for the lead singer 
of Seam.  Some rocker comes up to me and casually asks: "So how was 
playing for the Metro?" I told him I was Te from Kicking Giant, and 
that I've never played the Metro.



From: smchugh@mv.us.adobe.com
T in the Park

OK, it's over a month ago, and it deals with some of the less savoury 
'Britpop' bands, but here it is anyway, a review of the T in the Park 
festival.  Well, to be precise, day one of the festival.  The second day 
looked so unattractive (the Beautiful South were perhaps the most 
exciting prospect, giving you an idea of the standard) that I decided 
to pass on this.  Though I should mention that if you'd timed things 
well, you'd have seem Joe Strummer jamming with Dreadzone, Nick Cave 
duetting with Kylie, and Rat Scabies standing in for the collapsed 
Shamen drummer.  Worth #25?  You tell me.

I'll give you a description of the environment first to get you into 
the swing.  One of the hottest days in Scotland for years (yes, the 
ice on the lochs was starting to melt), and probably 30,000 people 
gathered in a walled-off public park near Glasgow for what is the 
biggest festival in the country.  Compared to English festivals like 
Reading, Glastonbury etc it's a bit smaller, and it's 
necessary for the organisers to book more mainstream bands to pay the 
bills (Scotland's population is 10% of England's, you see).  However, 
apart from the main stage, the 3 other stages included, the Groove 
Tent, and the Caledonian Stage, which was intended to showcase 
Scottish (and Irish, apparently) talent, plus the King Tut's/NME tent 
which basically catered for indie bands.

It was here I headed for first, to catch Cast, who despite their lowly 
billing, have just had a top 20 single in _Find Time_.  They play a 
jangly Merseyside-style bunch of songs of varying quality, pretty much 
like the La's, which is where the singer came from.

Moving swiftly along, I head for the Caledonian stage, where the 
Delgados take the stage.  They're a kinda spiky, kinda perky pop band, 
whose LaserWalking is a favourite of Peel and other right-thinking 

I catch Corduroy rather briefly, as their Jamiroquai/Stevie 
Wonder-esque brand of funky soul fails to impress my ears, though 
their crimpelene flares are a sight to behold.

On, then, to the main stage where Terrorvision, the Bon Jovi it's ok 
to like, take the stage.  They are an ideal stadium band, so it's a 
shame we're in a field in Lanarkshire.  They really are like a 
working-class grim-oop-north glam metal band, except some of their 
songs aren't at all bad.  However, I soon discover this is limited to 
their singles, as the part of the set that's not greatest hits is 
stodgy and fattening.

Back to the tent then, where Ash take the stage.  Pretty big 
everywhere, with a new hit single (Girl From Mars), these pubescent 
Buzzcock-a-likes and friends of David Gedge sound just like that 
description suggests.  Not half bad if you like that kind of thing, 
which I certainly do.  I quite regretted having to leave, but Spare 
Snare, Dundee's finest, are on the Caledonian stage.  Despite self- 
confessedly 'fucking-up' on FOUR occasions, and playing for rather 
less time than billed, they just about steal the day for me.  Though I 
didn't realise quite how low-fi/shambling/insert your 
insult-cum-compliment here they really were.  They get much tighter 
when they swap instruments later in the set, which must be a bad sign.

Over at the main stage, a Smiths tribute band have kicked off.  Oh no, 
dearie me, it's actually Gene!  In fact, they don't sound quite as 
much like Moz live for some reason (probably unscrupulous record 
producers, I muse silently).  In fact, they are not unlike 
Microdisney, which is ok in my book.  Despite the accusations of 
plagiarism, etc., their tunes such as Olympian and Be My Light are damn 
fine tunes.  Morrissey would have been proud to have written them.  
(Whaddya mean, he did ?)

Back to the Caledonian stage, where Schtum are onstage already.  
Imagine if you will Fugazi and Big Black jamming inside an aircraft 
hangar.  Right, forget that image.  No, in fact these bands have 
certainly been used as reference points for this Irish band, but I 
suspect that's only because their sound is pretty original, and these 
bands are as close as you can get.  I look forward to hearing more of 
their stuff and picking out some tunes among the sonics.  At this 
point there was something of a break as far as I can remember) so I 
wandered off to the Massive Attack Groove Tent.  I'd been doing this 
in passing all day, just popping in as I wandered towards the toilets, 
etc., but never saw anything resembling Massive Attack, Horace Andy, or 
any of their other special guests.  All I would see would be a lot of 
extremely chemically challenged people chilling out, and a DJ playing 
some sounds at the front.  To be honest, for the same money you could 
have set fire to a #20 note, danced through the smoke, snorted some 
ground-up dog worming tablets, and stayed in your house listening to 
the Tricky album with the curtains drawn.

Though I was impressed with the way the light came through the holes 
in the roof of the tent and cut through the ganja smoke in a Pink 
Floyd laser show kind of way.

Back to the music then, and Shriek were on the Caledonian Stage.  I 
wasn't sure, not knowing their stuff, if the vocals were intended to 
be buried in the mix like that.  I'm sure that with the good tunes 
there were lyrics of interest, but perhaps we'll never know.  A more 
belligerent Throwing Muses, a less aggressive Silverfish, or a Belly 
with a spark of life in their music, these are all descriptions which 
would have Shriek up in arms if they read this.

There was a lot of mainstream stuff on the main stage which I've long 
forgotten.  Black Grape might have been at least interesting, but they 
clashed with Spare Snare, so no contest.  Paul Weller would have been 
best forgotten, but probably 10 years ago.  He'd stepped down from 
headliner, presumably to let his audience get home early to their 
cocoa and babysitters.  I must be fair and say that the audience 
response for Weller was massive, but as far as indie-list readers are 
concerned, he's no more indie than Neil Diamond or Randy Newman.  He 
can still write a good song, but whatever happened to the leader of 
the Jam?  Answers to his record company, not me.

The King Tut's tent had been filling up all day, and Echobelly were 
next up.  Again, part of the great Britpop hype, they were more 
disappointing than I could have imagined.  Likened to a female-fronted 
Smiths in the past, they showed that they have not even a fraction of 
the songwriting ability to be awarded this dubious honour.  Even 
'Female-fronted Gene' would be insulting to Martin Rossiter and his 
foppish fiends.

After July the nights start to fair draw in, so Therapy?  took the 
stage bathed in the golden glow of a Scottish sunset.  Bet you wish 
you'd been there' eh?  They run through what's a half hour of greatest 
hits - 'Nowhere', 'Loose', 'Potato Junkie' et al.  Oddly enough, it's 
when they launch into their patchy lp 'Infernal Love' I realise that 
there's something of an exodus towards the tent again.  It's time for 
SuperGrass and also time to see how to fit the band with the #1 album 
and #2 single into a canvas sauna along with everyone in the West of 
Scotland who bought their records.  I get an idea of the scale of this 
around 50 yards from the tent, where my progress is checked by a 
seething mass of bodies.  There are still people moving forward to 
enter the tent, but it soon becomes clear that space for them is only 
being freed up by the legions of bruised and weeping people who cannot 
brave the crush.  In the interests of the indie-list I enter the tent, 
where conveniently they are performing some of their greatest hits - 
'Time,' Caught by the Fuzz,' 'Alright'.  They are really very good 
live, but I decide that self-preservation is the order of the day and 
fight my way back to catch the end of the Therapy?  set, which 
climaxes (oh dear) in a cello-led version of Grant Hart's 'Diane'.

After that, there's the choice of techno-bore with the Prodigy or the 
new wave revival with Elastica.  The thought of going back in the tent 
keeps on bring back two words to me - 'Ibrox Disaster' - and I decide 
that I'm suffering from rock'n'roll fatigue.  I wander off into the 


From: marcus@cix.compulink.co.uk (Marcus Austin - PC Direct)
ANNOUNCE: New(ish) e-zine

Just a quick note to say we're a UK-based indie e-zine and we're on 
our fifth issue.  If you want to see reviews of Reading and Phoenix, the 
latest LP by Oasis (it's not out til October !!), and other indie 
goodies, then it's the place to be.  http://www.southern.com/rage/


PS anyone who has looked at our site before should note that we are no 
longer using Acrobat; it's all in html from issue 5.


From: pnini@magnus.acs.ohio-state.edu (Paul Nini)
ANNOUNCE: Lower records catalog

Lower Records, a cassette-mostly label, has an e-mail catalog 
available for the asking.  Cassettes: Great Plains '85, Fungobat, Peck 
of Snide, Househearts, Paul Nini, Shades of Al Davis, Rescue Mission.  
7" vinyl: Log, Steve Lindstrom/Paul Nini (on Anyway), Peck of Snide 
(on Picturebook).  CDs, etc.: 'Our salvation is in hand' -- an 
acoustic-based compilation from Theme Park (UK), Log 'Light fuse and 
get away' (on Anyway).  Log T-shirt too.  Limited quantities for most 

Please e-mail pnini@magnus.acs.ohio-state.edu (Paul Nini) to have full 
catalog sent via reply.


From: Benjamin D Piekut <bdpF93@hamp.hampshire.edu>
AD: Treiops Treyfid/Halogen split 7"

KILOGRAM DENIAL RECORDS' first release is out now.

A searing and burning split 7" w/ Treiops Treyfid and Halogen.  
Treiops plays in the art-prog, butt-kickin' band PITCHBLENDE.  This is 
his first solo release on wax.  This is Halogen's second single.  They 
sound somewhere between Bitch Magnet and Rodan, I would say.

Three dollars postage-paid.  PO Box 2462, Amherst, MA, 01004-2462.


The Indie-List Digest is published weekly (Mondays) or more often by 
the Indie-List Infotainment Junta, Unltd.

What       Who              Where

Editors    Eric Sinclair    esinclai@tezcat.com
           Anne Zender      azender@tezcat.com
Mailings   Sean Murphy      grumpy@access.digex.net
Archives   Chris Karlof     karlofc@seq.cms.uncwil.edu  
           FTP              ftp://ftp.uwp.edu/pub/music/lists/indie

FAQ        http://www.tezcat.com/~esinclai/il/

Consultants: Mark Cornick, Joshua Houk, Sean Murphy, Liz Clayton and 
K. Lena Bennett.

Indie-List is not copyrighted.  It may be freely reproduced for any 
purpose.  Please cite Indie-List as your source.

 please send your articles for the next 
  issue to <indie_submit@indiana.edu>.