Apologies in advance. Was somehow pressed to Sod this one out.Renaldo & The Loaf - Behind Closed Curtains + Tap Dancing In Slush + RotcodismRATL were, quite literally, a dream come true. For years I'd been suffering the cruel after-effects of a wonderful, recurrent, dream: discovering, in the hidden corners of my mind, that long lost Residents opus: weirder, darker, more lyrically obscure, more musically ingenious, than practically everything post Duckstab / Buster & Glen... only to wake up to the cold hard truth: there was no long lost Residents opus. Never would be. And I still had no idea why Hitler was a vegetarian. You'd think I'd have had a clue. Certainly the name I knew: Ralph Records duo who'd co-llab'd with Rez on Title In Limbo, producing one of the single finest pieces of "weird pop" - if such words may apply to -
Monkey and Bunny. But nay! Never investigated. Dreams like these are rare enough. The sound of musical hums or squeaky wheels tends only to intrude upon my sleeping state via semi-flashback-to-live-performance-indulged-whilst-under-the-influence-of-all-kinds-of-state-adling-shite – Knurl in Tokyo, me on–either very good or very bad- shrooms, the sound acquiring a tsunami-esque acqua-blue otherworldly aura... memories of this taint are to be gleefully revisited again and again because, I swear, mon, it/they really did happen... Where the fick vas I? Oh, yes. On the shroom-like effects of the RATL listening sexperience. To those who can't stand them freakish cartoon-kimbolton-gnome voices, I feel your pain, really. But it is a pain worthy of experiencing. Music really Should Hurt. The day I came across the singular genius of
Cast Iron Smile was revelatory. Then to discover that the full LP to which it belonged had never been released. I'd expected some sort of pain butt- Argh! Not only should music hurt, apparently it should brutally maim. Raw record deal my raw and ragged arsehole. Tantalyze me with good reason, will you? RATL, I hateyouhateyouhateyou! However, you know, I'm better off in my wheelchair. One things for sure, I'll never complain. Behind Closed Curtains + Tap Dancing In Slush + Rotcodism cobbles together a never-released pre-RATL LP + EP + um, Rotcodism (doctor'd crap leftover) recorded 1978-79 and then shelved for the next 35 years. Way to be, team. The team were called by another name then, but the same wacked genius is certainly only partially mistakable. The lengthy collection starts on a low note, which slowly unveils as high note only occasionally to show barest hint of recovery proper. Staggered amid shitheaps of serious-ly lengthy ambient noodle, a sprinkling of deranged dosages do draw near the Cast Iron genius. When that genius is drawn, however, the smile is more genuine- that is, less painted-on, more, um cast-iron- the voices genuine in their often-layered surreality, the ambiance with just enough room to maintain an iota of sanity. Goes out with a banger, a truly RATLesque cover of everyone's favorite seasonal classic, "Jungle Bowels". EDIT True story about the dream.
