I’m sure that many readers of this blog are familiar with the legendary Plaster Casters, the Chicago groupies who made Plaster of Paris molds of rock star cocks, starting in the late 60s with Jimi Hendrix and later the likes of Jello Biafra and Ariel Pink. There’s even a KISS song about them. But did you know that Cynthia Plaster Caster and her friend Dianne (“the designated giver of blowjobs”) also had an album?
Well they did. Kinda. Sort of. Well not really… Apparently only their name is on it, not their actual voices. I doubt they even got paid for it. It’s a groupie-themed novelty record where unsurprisingly the actual music (a competent group of session players jamming on some highly enjoyable blues-rock) takes a backseat to the album cover and the nudge-nudge-wink-wink song titles which tend to promise a whole lot more than they actually deliver on.
For instance there’s “Lanoola Goes Limp” (referencing, apparently, an in-joke among the members of Paul Revere & The Raiders) or “Seven Foot Drummer From Fleetwood Mac.” And who wouldn’t want to listen to “Joint Venture” or “You Didn’t Try To Ball Me (For Frank Zappa)”? What about the intriguingly titled “Diane’s Blue Plate Special” (“plating” = “fluffing” in the Plaster Caster vernacular) or “Blues For Big Jimi”?
By the way, it’s almost entirely instrumental. Don’t get me wrong, it’s actually pretty good! If you like “groovy” sounds, I don’t want to scare you off, this might be for you.
The album was produced by music business veteran Bob Thiele and released on his newly launched New York-based Flying Dutchman record label, which mostly released jazz and blues, including important albums by Gil Scott-Heron, Gato Barbieri, Oliver Nelson, Lonnie Liston Smith and Thiele’s wife, pop singer Teresa Brewer. Flying Dutchman also released albums of speeches by Black radicals H. Rap Brown, Angela Davis and cultural critic Stanley Crouch, but nothing else that I am aware of quite like The Plaster Casters Blue Band.
The Girls Together Outrageously this is not. And who would have retailed something like this in 1969? Dirty bookstores? How anyone thought they would make a buck on such a product—I remind you that these are not songs with “dirty” lyrics, but instrumentals—is mystifying, but I applaud this misguided, weirdo effort.
More after the jump…