Record Time: New & Notable Vinyl Releases (April 2018)
With exciting new releases by Frank Zappa, Ornette Coleman, Mike Ness and more.

Record Time is Paste’s monthly column that takes a glimpse into the wide array of new vinyl releases currently flooding record stores around the world. Rather than run down every fresh bit of wax in the marketplace, we’ll home in on special editions, reissues and unusual titles that come across our desk, with an interest in discussing both the music and how it is pressed and presented. This month that includes a wealth of Record Store Day releases, some supremely noisy sounds from a new L.A. label and some reissues of the solo work of Social Distortion’s leader.
Mike Ness: Cheating at Solitaire/Under the Influence
(Craft Recordings)
The work of Social Distortion frontman Mike Ness seems particularly well-suited for vinyl, considering how influenced it is by the sounds of early punk, rockabilly and country—music often released on 45s. It’s a wonder then that his two 1999 solo releases—Cheating at Solitaire and the mostly covers album Under the Influence—were able to fall out of print. Originally released on Time Bomb Recordings and brought back to life by reissue label Craft Recordings, both of these new pressings sound as good as ever, with Ness’s weathered voice and worldview crackling out of the speakers with authority and volume. His collection of originals finds him twisting the hard-living and hard-drinking expressions of his idols like Johnny Cash and Hank Williams to meet his own equally challenged experiences. His album of tributes is a fun little lark, especially when he takes on such anachronistic material as the Carter Family’s “Wildwood Flower” and Wanda Jackson’s “Funnel of Love,” but otherwise Ness doesn’t do much besides crank up the volume of the source material. (RH)
ATM: Inglewood Tapes Vol. 1
Lead: Lead
Crazy Doberman: Free LSD
Sigtryggur Berg Sigmarsson: I Say to You
(Radical Documents)
Radical Documents is a new noise and experimental label out of Los Angeles that goes out of its way to avoid typecasting with its first four releases. The only similarity between these four albums is that you probably won’t see any of these folks at Bonnaroo any time soon. ATM’s album is the closest to conventional pop music; it’s a lo-fi batch of dance songs, with recognizable songs buried under fuzz, gunk and feedback-tinged vocals. You’ll hear some cheap keyboards, some drum machines, some mysterious roars that sound like table saws spurting out some jive. Think Chrome or the earliest Pavement records if they were into making minimal synth dance hits. Sigtryggur Berg Sigmarsson’s I Say to You, originally released on tape in 2014, sees one track per side, both of them built around an amplified voice harmonizing with itself. It’s beautiful and ghostly, meditative with just a hint of horror movie tension. Somehow, despite the limited toolset, the two sides find enough unique sonic space to not feel like one extended piece. Lead, the combo of real deal artists Amy Howden-Chapman and Steve Kado, is an album-length collage of drones, loops, chimes, wordless moans, sporadic percussion, and that sound you get when you plug a cable into an amp and then touch the other end instead of sticking it into an instrument. If you’ve ever earnestly tried to mess around with a practice space worth of random instruments you’re familiar with the idea, but Howden-Chapman and Kado bring a coherent artistic sensibility to what might just sound like aimless tomfoolery from lesser hands. Finally Crazy Doberman’s Free LSD chugs through demonic drones with all sorts of instruments squealing throughout—you’ve got your horns, some sort of organs or synthesizers, guitars seemingly plucked straight from some kind of Lovecraftian Hell dimension. Occasionally a definite riff will appear through the clutter, including one memorable passage with a four-chord descending pattern that might as well be the band marching us into the unknowable depths below. Coast to Coast listeners might be familiar with the supposed audio recording of Hell that Art Bell used to play; that could fit easily onto Free LSD. That means it’s pretty damn great. It’s reductive to call these albums drug music—you don’t need to take drugs to make or enjoy any of these records—but if you do do drugs you might be a little bit more predisposed to dig ‘em. (GM)
Frank Zappa: Lumpy Gravy Primordial
(Zappa)
Released in 1967, Frank Zappa’s first solo album Lumpy Gravy was a radical and schizophrenic experience, splicing together modern classical, rock, R&B and spoken word into an soupy, almost overstuffed delight. This Record Store Day release further edits those sessions down to just the work recorded by what its composer had dubbed the Abnuceals Emuukha Electric Symphony Orchestra, an ensemble of session musicians that included drummer Shelly Manne and pianist Paul Smith. Mastered from the original ¼” tape, these two tracks are dizzying and glorious, aided by the decision to press the two pieces onto the brown-ish vinyl at 45 RPM. Some of the more beautiful moments from the original LP have been sadly excised but the sense of humor that drove much of Zappa’s work remains as does the complexity of this self-proclaimed “curiously inconsistent piece.” (RH)