AC/DC vocalist Bon Scott showing us all what it’s like to be a real rock and roll singer back in the day.
 
Though it wouldn’t start out that way, February of 1980 was almost the beginning of the end for Austrailian juggernauts, AC/DC. The band had started the year laying the groundwork for their next studio album, Back in Black. But as we all know, the hard-partying antics of vocalist Bon Scott would catch up with the 33-year-old, and after yet another night of blackout boozing (as well as possibly dabbling in heroin), Scott was found dead inside his Renault 5 in the street by his South London residence on February 19th, 1980. There has always been a fair amount of speculation regarding Bon’s death, new details of which have been painstakingly researched by author Jesse Fink in his 2017 book about Scott, Bon: The Last Highway. 

Bon would perform his final live gig with AC/DC on January 27th, 1980 in Southampton, U.K. The band was no longer just a sensation in their native Australia but was finally breaking through to U.S. audiences after the Mutt Lange-produced smash, Highway to Hell penetrated the Billboard Top 200. The record would eventually smash through to the top twenty where it would peak at #17. Following the Southampton gig, AC/DC would appear on Top of the Pop’s on February 7th lipsynching to “Touch Too Much.” Three days later the band was in Madrid for an appearance on Aplauso, a popular Spanish television music program. This time AC/DC ripped through “Beating Around the Bush” (whose opening lick borrows a bit of fire from Fleetwood Mac’s 1969 single, “Oh Well”), with an unbridled lipsynching fury so hot that it’s hard to tell they aren’t actually playing “live” at times. Here’s a rough translation of the Spanish host introducing AC/DC for what would be the band’s very first show of any kind in Spain, and their final appearance with Bon:

“Today on TV Aplauso we receive a new group in Spain: AC/DC. They’re Australian and are considered as one of the best rock bands of the last generation without submitting themselves to the New-Wave or Punk. They’ve got a lot of fans in England and today for the first time in Spain, AC/DC!”

The studio audience in attendance for Aplauso is comprised of people who look like they about get a free car from Oprah...

More after the jump…

‘Bury Death on a Full Moon.’
 
Artist Matt Crabe is one helluva prolific guy. He makes paintings, prints, drawings, ‘zines, books, pins, death threats, t-shirts, and giant hanging paper demons which all feature his beautifully grotesque and NSFW creations.

Crabe draws intricate Day-Glo colored monsters, ravenous demons, and deformed super freaks that burst off the page like some weird unnameable creatures from the very worst kind of nightmare. As you can tell, I dig Crabe’s work a lot. He’s tapped into something that connects trippy childhood cartoon figures with a scatological glee for sex and bodily functions.

Based in Asbury Park, NJ, Crabe drops his work down from Heaven—or so he says, indeed he calls himself “Heaven’s favorite man”—and sells it via his online store, and shares through his Instagram and Tumblr. Check more of Matt Crabe’s work here.
 

‘The End of the Drought.’
 

‘When water isn’t enough for the flowers anymore.’
 
See more strange monstrosities, after the jump…
 

Vintage action figures of Jerry Only and Doyle Wolfgang von Frankenstein in their cardboard coffins by 21st Century Toys, 1999.
 
If you are into collecting action figures, and I know that many of our Dangerous Minds readers are, then you have probably already heard about a new figure set based on the “Fiend”—the official creepy mascot associated with legendary New Jersey punks, the Misfits. Put out by toy maker Super 7, one of the coolest things about the set of two figures (one dressed in red and the other in black) is the card art created by the equally legendary thrash metal album artist Ed Repka. When I read the press release I found myself feeling like there had been figures made in the image of members of the band somewhere along the line in the 90s—and for a change, I was able to trust my memories as my recollection turned out to be correct.

In 1999 21st Century Toys produced two 12” figures in the image of Misfits bassist Jerry Only and guitarist Doyle Wolfgang von Frankenstein. Both figures came packaged in cardboard coffins along with replicas of Only’s bass “The Devastator” and von Frankenstein’s guitar “The Annihilator.” The figures are pretty tricked out when it comes to their miniature clothing like Only’s studded vest and boots and von Frankenstein’s bare chest, sick six-pack, spiked choker, and Fiend armbands. Believe it or not, both are pretty easy to find out there on the Internet, and I’ve seen individual figures sell for as little as $20 depending on the condition. Photos of the devastatingly grim figures follow. Happy hunting!
 

A look inside the cardboard coffins containing the figures of Only and von Frankenstein.
 

A closer inspection of the figures inside their cardboard coffins.
 
More after the jump…

 
XTC has had its share of surprising collaborations and unusual side projects. There was the psychedelic pop tribute band the Dukes of Stratosphear, which put out two full-lengths. There was the complex proposal to invent a label called Zither dedicated to “excavated” bubblegum pop tunes that never existed. There was also the time Andy Partridge contributed to a Residents album. And there was the Fuzzy Warbles series as well. One thing that was always true about Partridge and Moulding, especially in the early years, was that there was always more than enough creativity to go around, and that creativity took many different guises.

Still, we think of a certain thing when the word “XTC” wafts into the conversation: spiky, intelligent pop in the general new wave/punk area, adventurous and tuneful. Beatles-ish popcraft from a later moment. But just as the Beatles had their “Revolution No. 9,” the XTC boys also delved surprisingly deeply into the world of musique concrète, tape manips, cut-ups, dub-versions, what-have-you—none of which is really a part of their regular mythos.

Once XTC got going in 1978, they were quite productive—releasing White Music and Go 2 in 1978, Drums and Wires in 1979, and Black Sea in 1980. While they were developing all of those great albums, they (Partridge mainly, it seems) found the time to release an album and a half of intensely cut-up re-workings of the very same tracks that went into those first albums.

In other words, they put out experimental music as if they had decided to “plunderphonic” their own catalog, to borrow a term invented by John Oswald in 1985. Puchasers of Go 2 in its original pressing also received a curious EP with a strikingly similar cover design called Go+. What Go+ turned out to be was a collection of five “dub” re-workings of tracks from Go 2.
 

 
That was in 1978. In early 1980 an album was released by, ahem, “Mr. Partridge” under the name Take Away/The Lure of Salvage. (It’s not super clear and sources differ, but I think the idea was that Side 1 was “Take Away” and Side 2 was “The Lure of Salvage.”) The cover art appropriated images from an absolutely fantastic photo shoot conducted at the preposterously palatial house of Jayne Mansfield around 1960 that we’ve discussed at DM before. Just like Go+, this album consisted of “dub” reworkings of previously released XTC material. Here’s a handy guide to which tracks the music from Go+ and Take Away/The Lure of Salvage was borrowing from:

Go+
“Meccanik Dancing (Oh We Go!)”—>“Dance With Me, Germany”
“Jumping in Gomorrah”—>“Beat the Bible”
“Battery Brides (Andy Paints Brian)”—>“A Dictionary of Modern Marriage”
“I Am the Audience”—>“Clap Clap Clap”
“The Rhythm”—>“We Kill the Beast”

Take Away/The Lure of Salvage
“Refrigeration Blues”—>“Commerciality (Signal Ad)”
“Heatwave”—>“The Day they Pulled the North Pole Down”
“Millions”—>“The Forgotten Language of Light”
“Real by Reel”—>“Steam Fist Futurist”
“Pulsing Pulsing”—>“Shore Leave Ornithology (Another 1950)”
“Homo Safari”—>“Cairo”
“Helicopter”—>“The Rotary”
“That is the Way”—>“Madhattan”
“Roads Girdle the Globe”—>“I Sit in the Snow”
“Red”/“Day In Day Out”—>“Work Away Tokyo Day”
“Making Plans for Nigel”—>“New Broom”

 

 
Take Away/The Lure of Salvage wore the experimental nature of the project on its (literal) sleeve. The music had been “destructed/constructed at Regents Park Recording Company.” The cover art also presented the following messages:
 

This used to be some XTC records. It is now a collection of tracks that have been electronically processed/shattered and layered with other songs or lyrical pieces.

If you liked ‘Go+’ then this record weighs approximately the same amount.

 
The music was every bit as challenging, adventurous, perverse, and unlistenable as “Revolution No. 9” itself—you choose the adjectives. Well, OK, maybe there wasn’t anything quite as distancing as some stentorian dude intoning the words “Number 9” over and over again, but ... Take Away/The Lure of Salvage was very intensely experimental and was hardly something a normal person could dance to. Some of it sounds a bit like fucked-up versions of tracks off of Peter Gabriel’s first albums or Genesis output from the same era—but those comps (even though accurate) may overstate the accessibility of this music. Variously, Partridge sped up backing tracks, fucked with percussion tracks, added poetry inspired by Charlie Parker’s “Ornithology,” and so on. “Work Away Tokyo Day” programmed all nine of Barry Andrews’ sax parts from “Red” simultaneously.

Many years later, in 1990, Go+ and Take Away/The Lure of Salvage were made available on the CD-only release Explode Together: The Dub Experiments 78-80.
 
Listen to it all, after the jump…...
 

 
This month, publisher Taschen is following up on its successful re-publication of Salvador Dalí‘s Les Dîners de Gala with his long out-of-print companion volume The Wines of Gala.

The Wines of Gala may be the lesser known of Dalí‘s two epicurean books, but it is still a sumptuously illustrated and highly collectible Surrealist treatise on the pleasures of viticulture. Originally published in French under the title Les Vins de Gala et du Divin (The Wines of Gala and the Divine) in 1977, this Dalínian introduction to wine was (surprisingly) not a success on its first release. As Dalí contributed no text, it was seen by many as a money-grabbing exercise by the aging Surrealist. The original text was written by Max Gérard (“Ten Divine Dalí Wines”) and Louis Orizet (“Ten Gala Wines”) with an introductory poem by Baron Philippe de Rothschild (“La Cave”).

However, Dalí was involved in the direction of content, the selection of wines and their organization “according to the sensations they create in our very depths.” These are grouped together under chapter headings like “Wines of Frivolity,” “Wines of Sensuality,” “Wines of Light,” and “Wines of the Impossible.” The idea was based on Dalí‘s belief that “A real connoisseur does not drink wine but tastes of its secrets.”

The Wines of Gala contains over 140 of Dalí‘s illustrations—including “appropriated artworks,” collages, and paintings like “The Sacrament of the Last Supper” (1955). The book was dedicated to Dalí‘s longtime wife and muse, Gala, and the volume applies “Dalí’s famously intense obsession with sexuality and desire to food and wine, two sensual topics he’d rarely addressed in his work.”

Though intended as an introduction to viticulture, the section on “Ten Gala Wines” was considered somewhat revolutionary upon its publication and in many ways it still is today. This section ordered wines by “sensation” or “emotional resonance” rather than by the “prescriptive limits of traditional viticulture.” This opened a whole new way to appreciate wine rather than the way used by most traditional wine critics.

It’s a beautiful book, and who knew Art could be a reason to get merry? Click on the pictures below for a larger image.
 

 

 
More pages from Dalí ‘s ‘The Wines of Gala,’ after the jump…
 

 
Somewhere in your life, a door opens, you enter, and you suddenly find yourself in another dimension—a place beyond that which is known to man. A dimension as vast as space and as timeless as infinity. Or, as we prefer to call it, the Internet—where everything is available and time disappears as you spend hours upon hours drifting in the hell of an Internet K-hole.

Sometimes you’re lucky. Sometimes you avoid the endless loops of cat and baby videos and dodge the fake news and outraged memes about nothing very much in particular only to land safely in a strange repository of mystery and imagination.

One such idyllic location can be found at the Internet Archive where the Pulp Magazine Archive has nearly every back issue of Rod Serling’s The Twilight Zone Magazine. This is the place to spend hours, days even, happily reading, learning, and being thrilled by the very best genre writers of our age like Stephen King, Richard Matheson, Ray Bradbury, Joyce Carol Oates, Isaac Bashevis Singer, Robert Silverberg, and Harlan Ellison.

Rod Serling’s The Twilight Zone Magazine started in April 1981 under the editorship of writer T. E. D. Klein and lasted until 1989. It was filled with first-class stories (see above), interviews with writers and directors, film reviews (including Stephen King’s take on Sam Raimi’s The Evil Dead), long illustrated features on films like Blade Runner, Gremlins, John Carpenter’s The Thing, and David Lynch’s Dune, plus book reviews by Thomas M. Disch and Theodore Sturgeon. There were also incredible treats like John Carpenters “lost” short fiction and the story behind H. P. Lovecraft’s “banned book.”

Now, thankfully to one kind dear soul who has lovingly scanned nearly every issue (sixty in total), you too can enjoy the pleasures of entering The Twilight Zone for yourself.
 

 

 
Discover more treasures from ‘The Twilight Zone Magazine,’ after the jump…
 

A realistic piece of doll-sized BDSM furniture made by a Russian artist going by the name of Mick. Mick sells his dollhouse dungeon furniture on his Etsy site, BdsmFan.
 
A few years ago I wrote about UK-based artist Jennie Nightfall and her naughty doll-sized BDSM furniture here on Dangerous Minds. Somewhat unsurprisingly, the post was a huge hit, proving once again that DM readers like to let their freak-flags wave and give zero fucks if you are offended at the sight of a doll spanking another doll who bent over a little wooden horse. This logical approach to life is shared by a Russian architect, artist, and designer named Mick—the man behind the doll-sized BDSM playthings and contraptions seen in this post.

Mick resides Novosibirsk—a city in the southwestern region of Siberia near the Ob River.  According to his Etsy page, Mick has been making his little torture devices and equipment for about a year and will allegedly make custom BDSM pieces for you in either doll or human scale. His doll-sized work is rather authentic-looking and includes all kinds of bondage furniture such as benches, various “punishment boards” (or pillories), cages, and even a little BDSM toilet. Mick also crafts kinky accessories like paddles, masks and fishnet stockings because even inanimate dolls want to look good while they are behaving badly. Most of Mick’s little bondage gear will run you anywhere from five bucks for a mini-mask to $95 for a deviant doll-sized dungeon diorama. I’ve posted photos of Mick’s adult-oriented doll furniture below which contains images of nude dolls making this post perplexingly NSFW.
 

One of Mick’s doll-sized punishment boards. Dolls not included.
 

 
More after the jump…

 
Swinging is an obscure children’s program that aired for one season on Australian TV during the 1990s. It’s also really freaking weird. The show, about a humanlike family of apes, features peculiar costumes and altogether strange imagery that likely had the unintended effect of scaring the bejesus out of the kids who watched it. Swinging has largely vanished, but we’ve found some episodes of this bizarre program to lay on you.

The show is based around the Turveys, a family of talking monkeys (they also refer to each other as apes, chimpanzees, baboons, etc.). The small cast of characters also includes a couple of friends of Rosy’s, the lead chimp, and two talking trees. It’s set in some sort of unreal jungle/forest hybrid. All the roles are played by human actors wearing grotesque costumes and makeup that surely rendered them scary-looking in the minds of young children.
 

 
Swining isn’t exactly a kid’s program—more like a bizarro world family sitcom. The program brings to mind Sid & Marty Kroft’s druggy kid’s shows, like H.R. Pufnstuf and Lidsville, which also featured scary and weird-looking costumed-characters. And like those head trips, Swinging resembles a hallucination—or a nightmare—come to life.
 

 
There’s very little information online concerning Swinging, though it does have a Wikipedia page. The program was a product of the Australian Broadcasting Corporation (ABC), the nation’s government-funded TV network. Swinging premiered on September 10, 1997, and, according to Wikipedia, it ran for 15 episodes. It’s unclear, though, how long it was on the air. The show has been wiped clean from ABC’s website, though a 2002 listing can be found via the Wayback Machine. Here’s the text:

Come in to the fun-filled world of a family of monkeys who laugh, sing and dance their way through life. Rosy Turvey is an independent and acrobatic eight-year old. Her parents, Augustus and Filameena, are constantly kissing and joking around. But remember this is monkey business!

Augustus loves “Elvis Primate,” king of monkey rock while Filameena encourages the kids’ to be messy and watch more TV. Watching over Rosy are Alf and Bert, the Talking Trees. While they often disagree, they are quick to point out the harsh reality of the situation. Tipsy Turvey, Theodore Curly and Mitzy Tangle complete the cast of colourful characters.

An ABC production.

 

 
Swinging has never been released on home video, and is quite hard to come by. Recently, a handful of episodes—captured on videotape back in the day—were uploaded to YouTube.

Continues after the jump…

A little kid running away from a man dressed as Paantu, a mythological demon/god who appears in a yearly festival on the island of Miyako in September.
 
The mythology behind the ancient, annual Japanese Paantu festival tells of how a mysterious and odd-looking wooden face washed ashore on a beach located on the northern shore of island of Miyako (or Miyako-jima). The arrival of the mask was the impetus for the festival which has been held over the course of several centuries. On other islands in the Miyako chain, the festival is closed to outsiders like many other religious ceremonies held on the various islands that make up the Miyako Islands of the Okinawa Prefecture, so not much is actually known about the gathering which is held in early September. However, details about the clandestine event are not a complete mystery.

Paantu is held in part to help drive out demons and removing any trace of bad luck that is hanging around on Miyako. In preparation for the festival, a group of local men are “elected” to portray the evil devil or god Paantu. The men then cover themselves with mud, leaves, and branches and finally the ceremonial black mask of Paantu. The menacing-looking group then rambles around visiting the locals smearing mud on folks, doors to homes and even police cars in order to ward off evil spirits. The popularity (and signifigance) of the festival has drastically faded in recent years as it has become increasingly difficult to recruit people willing to cover themselves in mud and scare the shit out of little kids—which I find hard to believe because all that sounds like a pretty fun time if you ask me. I’ve posted some photos taken at various Paantu Festivals for you to scroll through below and a couple of videos of good old Paantu terrorizing kids and covering them in mud.

If you need me, I probably won’t be anywhere near Miyako. That’s for sure.
 

PAANTU!
 

 

 
More after the jump…

 
In January 1977 the Ramones released album number two, entitled Leave Home. It was another high-quality slab of straight-ahead punk in the acknowledged Ramones style. The album had fourteen songs, the longest of which clocked in at 2:42. Six of the songs, sublimely, didn’t even make it to the 2-minute mark. This was rock and roll at its purest and simplest. The most famous song on the album is probably “Suzy Is a Headbanger,” which, interestingly, was not released as a single. “I Remember You” was the first single off of the album, but “Swallow My Pride” as the only single from the album to crack the singles charts anywhere in the world (#36 in the UK).

The band got into some predictable minor trouble over the song “Carbona Not Glue” due to the fact of Carbona being a registered trademark. On later pressings the song was replaced with “Sheena Is a Punk Rocker.”

To promote the album, Sire made a special switchblade-style letter opener with the words “Ramones Leave Home” on it. A letter opener is not as cool as an actual switchblade, but the real thing most likely would have been highly illegal to give away to antisocial punk rock fans. And switchblades actually were a part of the Ramones’ daily life. According to Marky’s memoir, Punk Rock Blitzkrieg: My Life as a Ramone, in 1980 there was an incident after a show at Six Flags in New Jersey in which Dee Dee “pointed” a switchblade at Marky, to which the drummer replied (after wresting the weapon out of his hands), “Do it again, ever, and the knife’s going into you.”
 

 
An auction has popped up on eBay for one of the switchblades. It’s not in mint condition—far from it—because the letter opener actually saw use at the offices of Punk Magazine. As of this writing, after 13 bids the price is at $305—the seller indicates in the body of the auction that there is a reserve of in excess of $1000 in effect.

The switchblade is not the only amusing Ramones promotional item in existence. In 1976 Sire created special Louisville Slugger baseball bats to promote “Blitzkrieg Bop.” (Sire publicist Janis Schacht wanted the bats to publicize “Beat on the Brat” but someone at Sire sensibly realized that might be one step too far.) Above is a picture of two of the bats, located at the Ramones Museum in Berlin, which I didn’t know existed until today.
 
Pics after the jump…...