In 1977, King Crimson founder Robert Fripp—who’d left the world of music in 1974 when he dissolved the group—moved to NYC’s Hell’s Kitchen (and then later a place on the Bowery) and immersed himself in the city’s punk and new wave music scene. Inspired by New York’s frantic energy and wanting to combine the new sounds he was hearing with “Frippertronics,” the droning tape loop system he had developed with Eno, the final product was his solo record, Exposure.

The ambitious Exposure is one of the ultimate art-rock documents of late 70s New York, a classic album that sadly seems to have fallen through the cracks for many music fans. It’s a brilliant and underrated missing link between what was to become King Crimson’s next incarnation, the “Berlin trilogy” of David Bowie and Brian Eno (and indeed Fripp and Eno’s own collaborations), Talking Heads, Peter Gabriel and believe it or not, Hall and Oates!

That’s right, Exposure was meant to be seen as the third part of a loose trilogy that included Daryl Hall’s Sacred Songs and Peter Gabriel’s second album (both produced by Fripp). Daryl Hall’s management threw a wrench in the works, concerned that Hall’s decidedly more esoteric solo material might confuse his fan-base expecting catchy, “blue-eyed soul” AM radio-friendly pop tunes and that this would harm his commercial appeal. Additionally, they insisted that Fripp’s own Exposure album be credited as a Fripp/Hall collaboration. As a result, Fripp used just two of Hall’s performances on the album, recording new vocals by Terre Roche and Van Der Graaf Generator’s Peter Hammill.

Sacred Songs didn’t come out until 1980 and sold respectably well. Both albums include the snarling buzz-saw rave-up, “You Burn Me Up I’m a Cigarette.”:
 

 
The first voice you hear in the “Preface” is Eno’s and the voice before the phone starts ringing is Peter Gabriel’s. The vocal however, is obviously Daryl Hall, but not as we’re used to hearing him. Fripp later described Hall as the best singer he’d ever worked with and compared his musical creativity to David Bowie’s. High praise indeed.

Another highlight on Exposure is Peter Gabriel’s amazing performance of his “Here Comes the Flood,” perhaps the best version of the many he has recorded: Gabriel disliked the orchestral arrangements for the song on his first album, considering it over-produced. He did a different version on Kate Bush’s Christmas TV special in 1979 and still another on on his Shaking the Tree greatest hits collection. The rendition heard on Exposure is sparse, haunting and moving. I think it’s one of his single greatest vocal performances. Eno, Fripp and Gabriel are the only musicians on this track:
 

 
Continues after the jump…

 
Like their masterpiece Eskimo, the story of the Residents’ new album starts with a cryptoethnomusicological discovery: in this case, the complete recorded works of an albino bluesman from western Louisiana named Alvin Snow.

Under the stage name “Dyin’ Dog,” the story goes, Snow cut ten agonized electric blues originals with his band, the Mongrels, before falling off the face of the earth in 1976. Whether the last straw was the death of his pet dog, the death of his elderly ladyfriend, or the death of Howlin’ Wolf, no one can say. Only these screams of rage and shame remain.

(There’s a mini-documentary on the Residents’ YouTube channel about Dyin’ Dog, and Homer Flynn of the Cryptic Corporation discussed the legend of Alvin Snow with us last December.)
 

The Residents’ new album, out July 10

Dyin’ Dog’s songs about sex, death, death, sex and death came out last year on a now quite scarce seven-inch box set released by Psychofon Records. On the new album Metal, Meat & Bone: The Songs of Dyin’ Dog, the Residents interpret the Alvin Snow songbook with help from the Pixies’ Black Francis, Magic Band and Pere Ubu alumnus Eric Drew Feldman, and other high-quality musical guests. The album also reproduces Dyin’ Dog and the Mongrels’ demos in full stereo abjection.

John Sanborn’s video for the Residents’ take on “Bury My Bone,” exclusively premiered below, is mildly NSFW. Then again, in time of plague, work itself is NSFW. And this is a blues song about a dog looking for a hole to bury his bone in, for fuck’s sake.
 

 
I’m a big fan of irreverent ‘60s pop band, the Turtles. This fabulous and underrated group doesn’t get much respect, but they had lots of great, catchy tunes, though they are essentially only remembered for two hits—“Happy Together” and “Elenore.” The latter song was the lead single from their brilliant, tongue-in-cheek concept LP, The Turtles Present The Battle of the Bands (1968).

Following the massive success of the “Happy Together” single, which went to #1 on the Billboard Hot 100 chart, and the popular LP of the same name, the Turtles began planning their next album. Inspired by Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, in which the Beatles envisioned the record as a performance by an imaginary group, the Turtles came up with the ambitious idea of portraying not one, but twelve fictitious bands. In turn, these made-up acts would go up against each other in a comic “battle.” The project was the perfect vehicle to showcase the group’s particular brand of humor.
 

The Turtles appear as the bands in the album’s gatefold sleeve (click to enlarge).

For Battle of the Bands, the group recruited their former bassist and current Monkees producer, Chip Douglas, to produce the record. Each member of the Turtles, which included two lead singers in Mark Volman and Howard Kaylan, would contribute material, but they would also seek assistance from outside songwriters to fill a few of the slots on the LP. Through Douglas, the Turtles had met Harry Nilsson, and the group asked him if he’d write the opening number. Credited to Nilsson and Douglas, “Battle of the Bands” functions just as “Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band” did, perfectly setting the stage for what would follow.

For the next track, the Turtles (as “The Atomic Enchiladas”) emulated the Beatles on “The Last Thing I Remembered.” The psychedelic track begins with the sound of a harp, signaling to listeners that they’re headed into a dream. The group would satirize a number of genres on the record, including country (“Too Much Heartsick Feeling”) and bluegrass (“Chicken Little Was Right”), as well as other groups, like the spot-on Beach Boys sendup “Surfer Dan.” For this number they were billed as “The Cross Fires,” a nod to the Turtles’ previous incarnation, the Crossfires, who were a surf rock band. The Turtles even spoofed themselves on “Elenore,” though the song wasn’t originally meant to even be considered for the album—quite the opposite, really. Frustrated that their record label, White Whale, wouldn’t stop pestering the Turtles for another hit on par with “Happy Together,” Howard Kaylan penned what he thought was a ridiculous parody. I’ll let Kaylan take it from here.

I had gotten so pissed off that I had decided to show White Whale, once and for all, what dicks they were. So I took the song “Happy Together” and mutated it, just for Lee and Ted [the founders of White Whale]. Every time the melody took a cheesy turn, mine took a cheesier one. Then, to sweeten the deal, I threw in handfuls of pimply teenage hyperboles: “pride and joy, etcetera” was originally “fab and gear, etcetera.” “Your folks hate me” and “I really think you’re groovy” were meant to inflame the wrath of these L.A. lames and I couldn’t wait to sing this new ditty for the band, hear their cynical laughter, and forward it on to our slave-driving masters in the West. But instead, something else happened.

Everybody liked it! Humor? What humor? This just what we’ve been looking for! Chip was nearly orgasmic. We worked out the harmonies right then and there. Chip called the label to tell them that we had the hit they had been looking for. We came back to L.A. to cut “Elenore” at Gold Star and it was a monster hit, not only in America but in Canada, the UK, even Australia and New Zealand. (from Howard Kaylan’s autobiography, Shell Shocked)

So, there you have it. What was intended as a means to get their label to stop bothering them, ended up becoming one of the Turtles’ biggest and most-loved songs. 
 

Japanese picture sleeve.

“You Showed Me,” another hit from the album, was brought in by Douglas. It’s a tune the early Byrds had demoed, and at the time was unreleased. Written by Gene Clark and Roger McGuinn, the Byrds rendition is mid-tempo and sounds like the Beatles, circa 1964, while the Turtles take is much slower and has a ghostly quality.
 

Italian picture sleeve.

“Food,” about the joys of eating, is the most outrageous number on the LP. The middle section features “The Bigg Brothers” reciting their recipe for special brownies.

More Turtles after the jump…

 
There are many urban legends in rock and roll. One of them is that Stooges bassist Dave Alexander was fired after he showed up totally shitfaced for a gig at the massive Goose Lake rock festival in 1970. Alexander was alleged to have been too fucked up to stand, let alone play his instrument, so Iggy sacked him.

Sidestepping the matter of “wow, this dude was too messed up even for… the Stooges?”—did it really happen like that? Well, maybe not, according to an exciting new find coming to you soon from the heroic Third Man Records label:

The apocryphal tale of the Stooges performance at the Goose Lake festival has been told countless times over the past five decades. Bassist Dave Alexander, due to nerves or overindulgence or whatever you choose to fill in the blank, absolutely spaces in front of 200,000 attendees. He does not play a single note on stage. He is summarily fired by Iggy Pop immediately following the gig. Here starts the beginning of the end of the Stooges.

But what if that simply…wasn’t the case? What if you could prove otherwise? Well, it’d be the proto-punk equivalent of having an immediate, on-the-scene, man on the street report of all those folkies booing Dylan’s electric set at Newport in ‘65. Irrefutable evidence of what ACTUALLY went down.

Found buried in the basement of a Michigan farmhouse amongst other tasty analog artifacts of the same era, the 1/4” stereo two-track tape of the Stooges complete performance at Goose Lake on August 8th, 1970 is the Rosetta Stone for fans of this seminal band.

Not only is this the last ever performance of the original godhead Stooges line-up, but it is the ONLY known soundboard recording of said line-up. Playing the entirety of their canonical 1970 masterpiece Fun House, the sound, the performance, everything about this record is revelatory.

Would you believe that…Alexander actually DID play bass on this occasion? Or that, despite grievous failures on some songs, Alexander is damn solid on others? Especially on the bass-led songs “Dirt” and “Fun House”? Does Iggy provoke the crowd to tear down festival barriers? Did the powers that be pull the plug on the Stooges? So many questions are answered only to have more arise.

Released to coincide with the 50th anniversary of the performance, Live at Goose Lake: August 8th, 1970, is the rare release that literally rewrites the history of these Rock and Roll Hall of Fame inductees.

A heavy drinker, Dave Alexander died at the young age of 27 in 1975. He was name-checked a few years later in Iggy’s spoken-word intro to The Idiot’s “Dum Dum Boys”:

“How ‘bout Dave? OD’d on alcohol.”

 

 
The Stooges: Live at Goose Lake: August 8th 1970 will be released on August 7th. Pre-order here from the Third Man online store.
 

Iggy and The Stooges at their most primal prime, taped at the Goose Lake music festival in Michigan in 1970.

Portrait of Laraaji by Daniel Oduntan

Back in 2018, before he released his elaborate and ornate Rare Birds album, my pal Jonathan Wilson told me that he’d spent most of the past few years working on old muscle cars instead of working on new music. Five years had elapsed between 2013’s Fanfare and his then new album, and what had changed, he told me, was when Laraaji—who Jonathan described as “musical royalty”—made a visit to his studio and laid down a mystical vocal that made a song he’d been working on come alive dramatically. After that the rest of it just flowed he said, like a creative block had been removed.

I hadn’t heard Laraaji’s name for some time. He’s best known as Brian Eno’s collaborator on Ambient 3: Day of Radiance. In recent decades, he mostly travels in New Age and therapeutic circles teaching “laughter meditation,” but since that conversation with Jonathan, I’ve started to pay more attention to Laraaji’s music as he’s been experiencing a late career revitalization that’s seen much of his back catalog, and new music, too, released by Numero Group, Light In The Attic, Leaving Records and the Eno-associated All Saints record label, including the three-record set Celestial Music 1978-2011.

Laraaji’s upcoming Sun Piano album finds the pioneering transcendentalist musician returning to his first instrument. Recorded in a Brooklyn church by producer Jeff Zeigler (Kurt Vile, The War On Drugs, Mary Lattimore), Sun Piano is being released by All Saints Records on July 17.  A companion LP, Moon Piano, and an extended EP of piano/autoharp duets will follow later in the year.
 

 
More Laraaji after the jump…

 
In the mid 1960s, the group Jim and the Lords inked a deal with producer Dave Hassinger’s production company. After a name change, the first Electric Prunes 45 was released. Their next two singles—1967’s “I Had Too Much to Dream (Last Night)” and “Get Me to the World on Time”—are excellent examples of American psychedelic pop/rock, and both were Top 40 hits. Those tunes were written by outside songwriters, and so was much of the Electric Prunes’ debut album, as Hassinger only permitted two group compositions on the LP. While the band successfully lobbied to have more of their own material included on album #2, Underground—and it’s a better record—there were no hit singles from it, and the LP didn’t do much in the marketplace. Things were about to change for the band in a way none of them could have foreseen. 
 

Picture sleeve for a 1967 Japanese EP.

For the third Electric Prunes record, the trio of Hassinger, Prunes manager Lenny Poncher, and noted producer, arranger, and composer David Axelrod came up with the idea for the group to record an album of Axelrod’s compositions. The LP would combine classical and religious music with psychedelic rock. Once in the studio, the band was slow to pick up the material, as most of them didn’t read music. The pace of the learning curve wasn’t to Axelrod’s liking, so another group, the Canadian outfit the Collectors, was brought in, along with session musicians. In the end, the actual Electric Prunes only play on side one of Mass in F Minor (1968), though a few members, including lead singer James Lowe, appear on all of the tracks. The album—a rock opera in which all the lyrics are sung in Latin—is a mixed affair. It’s certainly odd and obtuse. The opening number, “Kyrie Eleison,” is the highlight and also the record’s best-known song, as it later appeared in the film Easy Rider (1969) and on its soundtrack. It’s the only track on the album lacking any orchestral accompaniment.

By the end of ’68, the Electric Prunes had broken up, though their moniker lived on.
 

 
Dave Hassinger owned the Electric Prunes’ name and would continue to use it on subsequent LPs, despite the fact the no original members remained. Which brings us to album number four.

Continues after the jump…

 
When it was originally founded by Mark Fischer (along with his pal Rob Syers), Chicago’s SKiN GRAFT was a purveyor of underground/DIY comics and low-brow punk ‘zines ethos. Conceived and furiously drawn by the pair, Fischer’s and Syers’ comics were sold at punk shows in St. Louis, at high schools during lunch, and local comic and record shops. Thanks to several characters they created, such as “The Zeppelin Patrol” a group of outer space hippies (lovingly inspired by one of the kings of underground comics, the creator of The Fabulous Furry Freak Brothers, Gilbert Shelton), “Serious Brown” (best described as a private dick in Muppet form), and “Hot Satan” (who is still proudly represented in the labels logo), SKiN Graft would soon catch the attention of comics giant Caliber Press. At the time, Caliber was considered one of the largest publishers of indie comics in the U.S., and published two issues of SKiN GRAFT, distributing them worldwide before SKiN GRAFT decided to switch gears and try their hand at putting out records. Their first, with St. Louis, Missouri math rock band Dazzling Killmen, combined both aggressive punk rock jams with, of course, comics, for a 7” split in 1991 with Minneapolis spaz-punk band Mother’s Day.

Jumping to 1995 would see the SKiN GRAFT release SIDES 1-4, the first installment in a series of singles and comic book sets featuring bands performing songs “influenced” by AC/DC. Artists on the four-song record included Shellac (formed by Steve Albini and drummer Todd Trainer with the former bassist for the Volcano Suns, Bob Weston), Brise-Glace, Big’n, and Chicago-based noise rock band, U.S. Maple. The release included “crossover” comics—think Batman vs. The Beatles (issue #222, 1970), or one of my personal favorites, the comic collision of Star Trek and the X-Men, in 1996. Instead of having the comics included in SIDES 1-4 directly associated with AC/DC, Fischer and Syers instead hit up their comic catalog, resurrecting Hot Satan, Johnny Oedipus, and Serious Brown in new comics. According to Fischer, the idea for SIDES 1-4 was also inspired by the noise put out by Rene Herbst and his label Gasoline Boost Records in Germany (which included Big’n).
 

Tail Spins #19 (December 1994/January1995). Here Fischer and Syers paid homage to one of the very first comics owned by Fischer, Captain America #203 while homaging the great Jack Kirby. This image is a part of the digital comics released today with ‘SIDES 1-4.’
 
SIDES 1-4 was only produced on vinyl, and noise-loving music fans consider the album a highlight of their record collection. Starting on June 5th and coinciding with Bandcamp’s June “fee-waving day,” SKiN GRAFT will give fans a chance to digitally download a newly remastered SIDES 1-4, various comic sets and a limited number of 7” vinyl copies. All this talk about Hot Satan, AC/DC, and loud, rowdy punk rock got me, an AC/DC lifer, wondering about how some of the creative minds got behind this project, and how they got their first dose of a band beloved by everyone. I mean, have you ever met a person who didn’t like AC/DC? I know I never have. Here’s how U.S. Maple guitarist Todd Rittman, Bob Weston, SKiN GRAFT’s Mark Fischer remember the first time they had their young minds blown by Australia’s greatest export, AC/DC:

Todd Rittman:

“I remember when Highway to Hell (1979) came out. I was 10 and just starting taking an interest in rock music. My best friend had an older brother who would play us his records, and I remember having my mind totally blown forever by AC/DC, Black Sabbath, and Led Zeppelin. The sound of the guitars and tribal drums, Bon Scott’s voice, and how truly happy he was to be doomed to eternal damnation all really impressed me. All I ever heard growing up was the Beatles and Simon and Garfunkel. Hard rock brought a whole new palette of colors to my brain. I used to go to a record store called The Flip Side that was within walking distance of the townhouse I grew up in, just look at the LP covers and plan which ones I would spend my money on (once I ever got any). I probably spent the most time looking at the cover of If You Want Blood You Got It (1978) wondering what kind of deranged criminal mind would think of such an image (and actually wondering if it was real!) I’ve never been the same.”

Bob Weston:

“I first heard AC/DC every morning from a boombox that the leather-vested burnouts blasted on the bus to junior high school in 1977. I loved it. Maybe it was “Dirty Deeds”...?”

Mark Fischer:

“I felt the same way as Todd! AC/DC’s cover art seemed a lot seedier and more dangerous than their contemporaries. The album cover of Highway to Hell scared me in all of the right places. I knew my parents would not approve, but it was irresistible - like low hanging forbidden fruit.”

So as we’re all nodding in agreement about Fischer, Weston, and Rittman’s feelings on AC/DC, I have more good news regarding upcoming plans to expand on SKiN GRAFT’s musical exploration and experimentation of/with AC/DC. More covers are planned for the forthcoming SIDES 5-6 such as “Let There Be Rock” by the thunderous Zeni Geva (Japan), and everyone’s favorite AC/DC sing-along about a ding-dong’s two best buddies, “Big Balls” by Palace Contribution (featuring Will Oldham aka, psilocybin connoisseur Bonnie “Prince” Billy). All four songs from SIDES 1-4 can be cranked all the way up below and purchased right here while you scroll through a few of the fantastic accompanying comics in all their delinquent glory.
 

 

An assortment of SKiN GRAFT comic characters.
 

 

ENTER THE KARATE CHIMP!
 

A promotional ad for ‘SIDES 1-4.’
 
HT: With thanks to Mark Fischer and Ron Kretch.

 
Last year, Uberphawx created a bit of stir with his psychotic version of the Beatles “Eleanor Rigby” where all the notes were E or F. It was like a tune that had escaped from the confines of Arkham Asylum.

Now, Uberphawx has been ruining the delights of Radiohead’s “Karma Police” and taking the carving knife to Joy Division. Diabolical torture has been carried out on some of Joy Division’s most iconic tracks like “Decades” and “Love Will Tear Us Apart.” The result is wholesale carnage like the aftermath of Leatherface picnicking on befuddled youngsters with a chainsaw. Someone should give Uberphawx a job making horror movie soundtracks.

Take a listen, Joy Division will never be the same.
 

 
More Joy Division carnage, after the jump…
 

 
On May 29, CAN founder Irmin Schmidt will mark his 83rd birthday with the release of Nocturne, a live recording of his piano performance at last year’s Huddersfield Contemporary Music Festival. A lightly edited transcript of our two recent conversations by phone, quarantine-hushed Los Angeles to nightingale-loud Roussillon, follows.

How is quarantine in Provence?

I’m in the countryside, and everything is calm and beautiful. 

What do you remember about the performance in Huddersfield that this record comes from?

Since it was the first concert I did—real concert, I did single performances on prepared piano, small things, but it was the first real concert with the prepared piano, with my new thing—I was quite excited about it, and didn’t know what will happen. 

What impressed me was, during the performance, I thought the public had disappeared! It was so silent, I thought maybe they [chuckles]... it sounded as if I’m all alone. They liked it! They listened so concentrated. It went very well.

I actually wondered—on the recording there’s so little audience noise, I wondered if it had been taken out. But no, they were really listening.

They were really extremely silent. There was one very, very little cough, once, in the whole thing. And then the guy afterwards came to me and said, “Excuse me, I had to cough once.” I couldn’t believe it! They were—I mean, as if they weren’t there. 

But it was pure concentration there! There were lots of people afterward coming to me and said they were really sort of hypnotized, they really listened. And that was a great compliment, because I didn’t know how would it be. It was a new thing performing this. Although I have, in the Sixties, I made a lot of piano recitals with contemporary music: Messiaen, and Webern, and Stockhausen Klavierstücke, and Cage, a lot of Cage. But this is long ago; in between there were some different things, and that was the first time I was all alone again, facing a public with my piano, and it was wonderful.

It’s sad; I have so many offers now to play all over—in Norway, in Warsaw, in Prague, in Germany and in France—and I can’t do it.

Because of the virus.

Because of the virus, yeah. I don’t worry about it so much because I’m so much better off where I am, in this beautiful countryside. I’m much better off than so many other people in towns. So I don’t… lamentate.

If you have to be stuck somewhere, I would think Provence is not a bad place.

Exactly, [laughs] especially where I am, I mean, I have a big piece of land [signal breaks up] I can be alone and it’s beautiful, it’s calm. No reason to complain.
 

Photo by Lucia Margarita Bauer
 
Have you noticed any changes in the environment?

Not really, because I’m living really in the countryside. I mean, it’s springtime, it’s wonderful. There is no change visible because there has never been any traffic in that part of the world. 

I mean, the only thing I realize is there are less planes going above our area. But I don’t know, if that affected something, it’s not visible. Actually I can’t say I noticed anything in the environment, because I am not in the town. In towns, everybody tells me it’s totally different; there are more birds and animals. But where I am in the countryside, it’s like always.

But there is one strange thing. You know, our house is called Les Rossignols, our address, and that means “the nightingales,” because there have always been nightingales. There is some water, there is a pond and there is a creek down there, and there have always been some nightingales. This year, it’s double as much, which is the only remarkable thing. There are more nightingales this spring, singing, which is wonderful. I don’t know why. It cannot be because it’s more clean where I am, but maybe it was easier for them to come, I don’t know. But that’s actually the only change, and that can be just a a coincidence. That must not necessarily be due to the lockdown. 

Can you tell me about the piano pieces in some more detail? I’m curious first of all what the equipment is. I know on the studio album you have two different pianos, one prepared and one unprepared.

Right. Yeah.

Which I think has been your practice for a while, right? 

Yeah, I have two grands in my house. For the studio record, I prepared one and left the other one unprepared, just untouched. On some pieces, I only played the prepared—which, when I say “prepared,” never is the whole piano prepared. It’s never all strings prepared. It’s sort of half of the piano. Because I love this kind of… these vibrations, these sounds of the real piano sound with the prepared, which has harmonics, which create a strange kind of tension between the not-prepared and well-tuned strings, and these prepared ones which have very complex harmonics. I love that. 

Yeah, on the studio record, I played two pianos. In performance, in a concert, I can do only one piano, so it’s half-prepared. And you hear it on the Huddersfield recording, there is this mixture between the sounds of the real piano and the prepared piano, and that’s what I love so much about it, because it makes this kind of tension in the harmonics, and these vibrations which are created by the difference of tuned and prepared [strings]. 

When I made the studio recording, I started with a prepared piano, and the first piece of the studio record is totally improvised. One go. I mean, the time it is on the record, that’s the time I played, and there’s nothing edited and nothing changed and manipulated. That’s how it started. 

And then I made some field recordings. I have a little pond, and around the pond there is bamboo and reeds. So I went through them, and sometimes sort of moved them rhythmically, sometimes just went through this, and we recorded that, and I played to that.

Continues after the jump…

 
If Scott Lavene‘s name isn’t familiar, you can click here for the complete rundown on this up and coming English singer-songwriter. If you’re not familiar with his music yet, you’re in a for a real treat. Lavene’s debut album, Broke was easily one of the best albums of 2019—in fact I wrote “Any ‘best albums of 2019’ lists that don’t have Scott Lavene’s ‘Broke’ near the top are bullshit,” as you can see I felt pretty strongly about it—and he’s already working on the follow-up. If you haven’t heard Scott’s music yet, lucky you. And if you have, lucky you, too, because today we’re premiering the animated video for a new song of his called “Lover.”

Scott writes:

“I had this song ‘Lover’ that didn’t make the album. A B-side. The final release from the last album before settling in to work on the next one.  I wanted a video for it and since we are on lockdown i was just going to make a green screen and perhaps make something odd at home. Then a guy started following me on Instagram called Ryan D. Anderson. 

His animations are amazing and his humour is brilliant and bizarre. I asked him if he had anything lying around that I could use for a video, something odd, didn’t have to be too polished. So, he’s a fan and said he’d be happy to make something specific for the song. A completely excellent human. A comedian and writer. A Canadian. Hopefully we’re going to collaborate again. Here’s his website.”

More Scott Lavene on Bandcamp.