Keeping it US of A focused but without going in on the State of the Nation. I thought I’d get a little weird after the cosy Alt.Country of yesterday’s post. Dead Rider are pretty freakin’ weird.
This is like some junkyard stoner rock take on Step Right Up by Tom Waits. There’s something about the snake oil salesman patter, delivered in a low almost Smeagolish growl that just does it for me.
I’ve had no end of car trouble this year. My Wife’s trusty VW has been in the garage more often than it’s been out and the utterly nondescript saloon I drive 500 plus miles per week for my work? Well that’s suddenly revealed itself to be a Decepticon. Parts fall off it with such regularity I’m convinced it waits until a week before each payday before it shits out another vital moving part like it’s having a punch up with Robbie The Robot (you can tell I didn’t pay a lot of attention during those awful awful movies I’m sure)
So anyways, Dead Rider. The work of the previously identified Todd Rittmann. I don’t know a lot about the band or the guy but I do know I’ve heard US Maple before. Can’t say I ever listened to them but they stood out in the Noise Rock Scene in the 90’s as the weirdo’s weirdos. I had friends who fitted that bill. Todd was one of theirs. Along side The Bevis Frond, Jon Spencer and Pusherman. This was Head (trip) music.
The Sale puts me in mind of Ministry’s Jesus Built My Hotrod if it were up on bricks. The filth, the smell of burning oil and the ‘swarfega will struggle to get that out’ stains all over your ears are pure grease monkey. It’s quite happy to confound you as to why it is doing the things it’s doing, while at the same time painting a picture familiar to anyone who has ever been to that place. That place being a filthy monochrome junkyard run by a guy who sounds like Tom Waits and owns a very big dog. It sounds like receiving a second hand car salesman’s pitch in a junkyard.
While trying to find out more about Todd for this article I came across something Uncut Magazine said about him that I suspect could have been written by me in another timeline. “We first heard Ritmann 150 years ago, playing the future backwards to bring it to us where we stood at the end of the 20th century”
SteveForTheDeaf is that you? It’s me. SteveForTheDeaf. If you can hear me there’s an invoice from the garage here for you. Tap on the pipes if you can believe we need another set of tyres for that frikkin’ Volkswagen.
Nope, I’m losing you. Steve, It’s Steve. We are broadcasting to you from the year 1.9.9….
This dashboard plastic Jesus will have to go, His magnet’s screwing the radio.