KEEP YOUR EYE ON JEFFREY MORGAN’S MEDIA BLACKOUT #315!

Wolf Eyes – Burned Mind (Sub Pop) :: Here’s this Ann Arbor band’s recipe for disaster: Take a copy of Metal Machine Music. Play at maximum volume. Scream on top of it. Slice into nine tracks. Garnish with names like “Stabbed In The Face” and “Urine Burn.” Serve cold.

SIZZLING PLATTERS OF THE WEEK: Black Merda – The Folks From Mother’s Mixer (Funky Delicacies) & Various Artists – Funky Funky New Orleans Volume 4 (Funky Delicacies) :: Boy, do I ever miss the ’70s. Forget about the ’60s which was nothing but a buncha hippies and leftover beatnik coffee shops that charged an extortionist sixty cents for a plain black cuppa Joe—yeah, they sure saw the future coming—because the ’70s had the glitter glam crowd posing next to the punks pogoing next to the zoot suited Afro preeners pimping their ladies in one giant cross-cultural stylegasm.

Indeed, I remember sitting in a jazz club and watching as a partially paralyzed Rahsaan Roland Kirk limped off stage half an hour after his set began because the pimps doing business at the bar thirty feet away were making too much noise. Shortly thereafter, this venerable institution became an upscale new wave club. Then all the downtown lavender joints had a methbed conversion and went from pansy to punk literally overnight when they smelled fresh influxes of cash from all the young rubes—which led to such surreal spectacles as hardcore punk bands playing next to giant statues of Michelangelo’s fig-leafed David. Ah, those were the days my friend and, no, we didn’t think they’d ever end. Then the ’80s quietly crept up and sapped us on the back of the noggin while we weren’t looking and that was the name of that tune.

Speaking of which, The Folks From Mother’s Mixer is a compilation of Black Merda’s first two albums of seminal Detroit wah wah guitar-driven psychedelic funk: their self-titled debut album from 1970; and 1972’s freakified follow-up Long Burn The Fuse. Whether your agenda is to bear arms or spread legs, this album contains enough amped-up ammo to perforate either way you play.

Meanwhile, Funky Funky New Orleans Volume 4 offers up sexteen solid sets of salacious sounds from 1969 to 1973. The lubricious song titles tell the whole story from “Jungle Weed” and “Turn Me On” to “Sooky Feeling” and “C’mon And Make Me.” And if you’re up for the down stroke but the down stroke keeps eluding you, I guarantee that one long hit of “How To Make Love” will put you in the proper pudenda pounding groove.

So if you’re dead set against maintaining the status bro and you subscribe to the Pimp My Pimp movement that would have today’s Soledrab brothas ditch the baggy rags and dress more like Michael D. “Rooster” Roberts did on Baretta or Antonio “Huggy Bear” Vargas did on Starsky & Hutch, then these two albums are made for you, jive turkey.

Be seeing you!