Shaker isn’t the only group reuniting for a last hurrah. These days, bands you’ve never heard of are so quickly being recuperated and positioned as essential to the formation of one or another genre, it’s hard to keep track. It’s even harder to pretend you know what you’re talking about when someone brings them up. Here’s a handy cheat sheet for doing just that.
Death
(ca. 1971, Detroit)
When describing the pioneering protopunks and subject of the new doc A Band Called Death (see review, page 64), tell people they “effectively bridge the gap between MC5 and the Dirtbombs.”
Pentagram
(ca. 1971, Alexandria, Virginia)
Stress that these seminal U.S. heavy metallers – also revived by a documentary, 2011’s Last Days Here – “were better in the 80s – you know, as a doom metal band.” Also: “Have you heard the Bedemon shit?”
Arthur Russell
(ca. 1967, Oskaloosa, Iowa)
Cellist Arthur Russell worked with everyone from Philip Glass to David Byrne and Bootsy Collins. But he was notorious for never finishing anything. Then in 1992, he died. Thank goodness for reissues. “He was almost too diverse,” you might say.
Dust
(ca. 1969, New York City)
This countrified hard rock band recently had its two full-lengths, 1971’s self-titled record and 1972’s Hard Attack, reissued on vinyl. “Did you know that drummer Marc Bell would go on to become Marky Ramone?” you could ask a roomful of people who probably couldn’t care less.
The Langley Schools Music Project
(ca. 1976, Vancouver)
Haunting, ethereal recordings of children singing pop songs from the 1960s and 70s arranged by music teacher Hans Fenger – 2001’s compilation Innocence & Despair is top-shelf outsider music. “But their cover of Calling Occupants Of Interplanetary Craft really makes me feel things!” you’ll plead with your partner as she walks out on you, citing your inability to care about anything besides weird music as the reason for your breakup.
