Stats
Year: 1987
Country: U.S.
Genre: Art Rock
Purchase
Happy summer everybody! I will say it was quite jarring to show up at a gig the other night to find all my friends in tank tops and baseball hats instead of our usual shrouds of darkness. And to celebrate this fortuitous weather (at least, until it gets so hot that I can’t go outside for more than an hour or so) let’s put on a set of songs put together to commemorate one special summer almost a lifetime ago. Yup, in 2027 it will be the SIXTIETH anniversary of the “Summer of Love” and all its hippie weirdness. But when Kramer and his pals at Shimmy Disc put together The 20th Anniversary Of The Summer Of Love 1987-1967, it hadn’t been very long, even though so much had happened in those two decades since. The original event’s positive naivety is viewed here with a sense both of admiration and critique, as par the course for this group. The majority of tracks on this album are originals produced by Kramer and his brother at their studio, Noise New York, between 1985 and 1987. And it’s truly a star-studded cast! Aside from label regulars such as Tuli Kupferberg and Bongwater, the place is populated by prolific indie darlings like 1/2 Japanese and real oddities like a late-in-life Allen Ginsberg. Other acts are more obscure yet serve as a fascinating history of New York’s downtown performance scene in the late 80s. For an astounding 24 tracks ranging in length and genre, it’s a celebration indeed.
Content
Wailing on launch is 1/2 Japanese (or Half Japanese) with their first and only Shimmy Disc appearance, although a memorable one. I know the band from their oft-pushed Spotify hit “One Million Kisses,” but “Should I Tell Her?” and its forceful freeform performance leaves a much stronger impression. I know many tire of the noodling saxophone solo, which serves as the backbone of this track, and this compilation as a whole, yet it’s a different sound for the band that still aligns with their D.I.Y sensibilities, as well as those of the label. It’s a clear litmus of who’s going to like this record and who will not. The cover art is also by one of this band’s members, David Fair, whose distinctive cut-and-paste style makes for a striking image. It reminds me of those paper snowflakes we’d make in school, that I was never very good at making.
A couple of Kramer's own musical projects make an appearance on this roster, yet to the average listener, it’d be hard to tell they all involve the same person. Bongwater is a favorite of mine, led by Ann Magnuson, who opens Side B with the satirical bite of “His New Look.” The story follows a surreal encounter with a fling who’s changed with the times, moving faster than she previously thought time was moving. The doomy backing and jarring laugh track in the middle make a foreboding tone, yet I still find the whole thing pretty funny. Shockabilly’s “far out” avant-rock with just a tinge of twang is another one of the organizer’s acts, recorded from a truly cathartic live performance in Vienna. Carney, Hild, and Kramer’s “Telephone” would appear on their album “Happiness Finally Came To Them” from that same year, filled to the brim with only one-word songs and fascinating atonalities among cheap organs and repetitive poetry. The least documented of these acts is The Moon, with its screeching intensity and liberal use of archival audio. On Wikipedia, this act is solely attributed to Kramer, on Discogs just to two of his frequent collaborators, and on Youtube and the cassette version to Bongwater. Their sound, however, is unmistakably Shimmy Disc.
While the 60s theming of this collection is more of a suggestion than a rule, there are a few acts that follow it with devotion. Tuli Kupferberg's faux-religious hymnal “M-O-T-H-E-R” is dedicated to promoter Bill Graham, who booked some of the most famous bands of the era, and hopefully was able to hear this song before his untimely death by helicopter (clearly living up to his reputation) in 1991. Krackhouse goes political via a distortion of the Beatles in “My Revolution,” utilizing layered vocals to achieve a disorienting effect. The Spongehead Experience cover Jimi Hendrix’s “Love Or Confusion” with a bit more of a chaotic funk edge than the original, and while it’s surprisingly the only cover in this whole collection, it’s a fitting addition.
Very similar to his feature on the Clash’s “Ghetto Defendant” is Allen Ginsberg’s mantra track “Dear M,” in collaboration with musician Steve Taylor. His direct involvement in the hippie movement and dedication to Buddhism gives some direct credibility to this compilation, including reflection in addition to tribute. Meditative works aren’t typically my jam, but this one makes complete sense in context.
Other highlights include composer Fred Firth’s “True Love” which combines Caribbean influences with boisterous performance. Missing Foundation’s industrial rock track “Backbreaker” slithers amongst the grass via scratchy, screechy noise. And an excerpt of zither-player Laraaji’s “Bring Forth” closes the album with undeniable talent via his instrument; at the age of 81, the man is still operating at the same level today.
Other Versions
Despite its impressive scope, The Summer of Love didn’t get much of a release outside of the U.S, and of all places, the Netherlands. Not only was there a Dutch pressing of the vinyl by Shadowline Records, but Shimmy Disc had their own Dutch division running out of Semaphore Records, which only released a CD version.
Back in the States, the cassette release of this album included an exclusive track by King Missile called “Fluting On The Hump.” It’s not one of King Missile’s best tracks, lacking all the witticisms that make their work so memorable, but hey, it’s there for those who care.
Score
Variety: 4/5
Quality: 4/5
Cohesion: 3/5
Creativity: 4/5
Final Score: 15/20