Dinosaurs

I attended my third concert of the year. It was only the second indoors and the second time I’ve seen Dinosaur Jr this year. But, hey, live music. Amirite?
Dinosaur (as the locals say) was a bit of a white whale for me upon arriving in Amherst six years ago. I had seen them a couple of times previously. Once was at the 1993 Lollapalooza, so not the original lineup. The second was in COMO when the trio reunited to play a bunch of hardcore songs they wrote in their teens and twenties. However, after moving here, I missed the band multiple times. There have been numerous shows missed due to being out of town – three, I believe. Then, there was the time I had to pick up my daughter at a birthday party she wouldn’t leave when Dino played the town common. I had zero luck seeing the band, despite living like 2.5 miles from J Mascis.
Sure, I’ve seen all three members around. I don’t remember where I’ve run across Murph, but I’m certain we’ve been in the same place at the same time. The Valley is small. Lou has been in downtown Amherst with his family. And J and I have crossed paths at Whole Foods and even a Christmas party (where my mother-in-law asked him what he does for a living).
Still, I assumed seeing Dinosaur wasn’t meant to be. I mean, throw in a pandemic that basically shuts down live music and the chances of losing my hearing to “Freak Scene” appeared to dwindle.
Then, vaccines happened and venues started opening up. I saw them play some fairgrounds in New Hampshire, which was strange. And then there was last Friday’s homecoming in Northampton.
This isn’t a review, but you should know that band can play. They’re a bit ho-hum stepping onto the stage, but there is no letdown once they begin to play. Sets have spanned the band’s entire history. The last featured a lot more material from their latest (Sweep It into Space) with plenty of those old hardcore and Lolla-era “hits” to keep us all interested. I even called that the show would be over once you heard that Cure cover, and it was three songs into the encore.
There are few stalwarts of the 80’s and 90’s indie scenes like the Stones or Beach Boys of the 60’s and 70’s. Dinosaur Jr is Generation X’s Rolling Stones. May they never die.
The Matador 100 Project: Shams’ ‘Quilt’ (Olé 028)

The Shams are a group I honestly don’t really know much about. They come up twice in the Matador 100, this being the first of the two entries. Quilt (Olé 028) was released in 1992. The band’s name is a reference to The Shams, the outsider music, all-female group from the late-60’s. Them band was primarily known for their part in establishing the Americana and No Depression scenes of the 80’s and 90’s.
As an aside, the only member familiar to me is Sue Garner (although, Amy Rigby seems to be more productive over the years). Garner has been in loads of bands, but it was her stint in Matador label mates Run On where I’ve crossed her path. I saw Run On open for Yo La Tengo in 1994 or 1995 and then again for Will Oldham in 1997. I loved Run On and their first Matador LP, Start Packing (Olé 153). Listen to standout “Xmas Trip” to understand why.

Anyway, The Shams put together a nice little record that holds a place in early alt.country as well as all that other No Depression stuff. The production is dated and limited, but the harmonies and tender songs don’t need a lot of digital embellishment. Honestly, I don’t know that I can do this record much justice. It’s a nice artifact of a subgenre of the 1990’s. In researching the band and record – and there’s not much out there, I found this Chicago Tribune write up that captures the band and the time.
The Matador 100 Project: Superchunk & Come (Olé 026-027)

I’m not dead and neither is this series. I have, however, slowed on collecting the first 100 Matador releases because they are hard to come by and often times expensive. I mean, there’s a Toiling Midgets release I’ve been chasing for a while and it’s cheap, but there isn’t a copy for sale online in this country. I will pay more for shipping that I will for the record. And that’s if I can even get it past customs.
Anyway, I’ve digressed before I’ve begun. This series, as some may be aware, is my attempt to collect and listen to the first 100 releases from my all-time favorite label, Matador Records of NYC. What follows is a rundown of the next three releases, Olé-0026-0027, a couple of great 7 inches.

Superchunk released its first handful of titles on Matador. The seven inch “The Breadman” (Olé-0026) was their second release, I believe. The guitars are fast and layered. Laura Balance’s bass lines are particularly fleshy. Mac McCaughan cries over the cacophony. From what I can tell, he’s singing about a baker who never realized his dream of playing guitar. Or I could be way off.
The b-side is the more start and stop “Cast Iron” which makes an appearance on the band’s second full-length release, No Pocky for Kitty. I guess it’s about yelling at someone from the front porch, but that seems likely an oversimplification.
The cover art is somewhat iconic. Mac (I believe) is featured shirtless with a head full of hair, reminiscent of a caveman. I always found this interesting juxtaposition of Superchunk with anything agro. They are smart, nice, funny people from what I can tell. However, the music can be loud, fast, and incredibly intense – even with Mac’s high-pitched wails. Still, this image of Mac as a cavemen always makes me laugh. I hope that’s how it was intended.
Come…er…comes in next with their seven inch “Fast Piss Blues,” released in 1992. Come featured the legendary Thalia Zedek and Codeine’s Chris Brokaw. This was the second release from the band, the first on Sub Pop the previous year.
“Fast Piss Blues” is a gnarly, modern blues song. Could it be post-blues? “I don’t remember being born,” Zedek growls. The guitars soar at times and the bass lines are heavy and thick. This is followed by b-side “I Got the Blues” which is a down-tempo blues song of longing and regret. These tracks are dirty and uber-cool. I’m sure the band brought a lot of promise with their early 7 inches. However, blues-based music in indie rock can have a finite existence.
At this point, I should address the odd way Matador releases are numbered. Even though “The Breadman” and “Fast Piss Blues” are consecutive releases number-wise (0026, 0027), there are about 12-13 other releases between them. “The Breadman” came out around 13 months prior to “Fast Piss Blues.” In fact, their whole system seems out of whack. It starts at the beginning: 001, 003, 002, 012, 005, 004, 007, 023… It’s a mess, but understandable. It seems – and someone who actually knows can correct me – that the numbers are based on the order agreements are made to put out records and not the eventual release. It also explains when some releases were skipped and never happened. I believe I’ve addressed these when they come up. I will continue to mention them when I can. The official discography lists the records in order or release and leaves out those Matador never released.
Moving on…
I’ve got the Shams’ Quilt (Olé-0028) and Bullet Lavolta’s The Gun Didn’t Know I Was Loaded (Olé-0029) coming up, but then there’s a gap. I haven’t been able to score the aforementioned Toiling Midgets’ Son (Olé-0030). Again, it’s not expensive or anything, but it’s hard to come by. What’s frustrating is there’s a record store in Japan that has this and about 10 other records on my wantlist, but they don’t ship to the US. At some point, I’ll have to just buy this from a European store, pay twice as much for shipping as the record itself, and wait as it sits in customs for a few weeks. So, I’ve got two more posts in this series before there’s a lull, unless I skip Toiling Midgets for the time being. I can get through the 0030’s pretty smoothly after that. We’ll see.
If you see Toiling Midgets’ Son in your local record depot, let me know. I’d likely pay double for it.
The Matador 100 Project: Unrest & Teenbeat 50 (Olé 024-025)
A whole lotta Teenbeat up in this post…
Unrest, the legendary DC experimental act issued a compilation of material through Matador and their label Teenbeat. The early tracks intended for this release were primarily of the b-side and rarity variety, including the band’s first album. They are rough and uneven, but one can find some cool moments in many of the tracks. The title of this comp is Fuck Pussy Galore (& All Her Friends). Pussy Galore, of course, was a James Bond character Unrest seemingly didn’t care for. Anyway, the bass lines are insanely schizophrenic, setting up the band’s signature sound as carried out by Bridget Cross in later releases. The covers included also provide a little bit of nostalgia for all the fucking Boomer bullshit were force-fed in the 80’s.
The vinyl fails to list about ten tracks included in the CD and cassette versions, according to the Teenbeat site. In fact, Teenbeat states that the vinyl version included just the tracks from the first album, no extras. According to the site, there were master tapes missing, some re-mixed.
Teenbeat 50 is a compilation of some highlights from Teenbeat’s first 50 releases. Unrest’s Mark Robinson, Phil Krauth, and Tim Moran started the label in Arlington, Virginia in 1984. Teenbeat was able to release so many recordings since they made only one copy of each early release to be loaned out to high school classmates. Much of the early material was Unrest practice session recordings. Teenbeat played an important part in the indie scene in and around DC (along with Dischord, of course). Their roster is a who’s who of the underground-turned-indie darlings.
The vinyl version of this comp included 16 tracks, two from Unrest. Highlights of the roster included Autoclave (Mary Timony!), Velocity Girl (a favorite during their Sub Pop days), and Courtney Love (the band, not the other one). It’s a much more polished collection than the record mentioned above. Some of the tracks sound downright professionally recorded (Hello, Bells Of…! Where have you been my entire life?) Plus, there are two(!) theme songs – one from 1991 and the other from 1985.
Putting out these two comps to what I can only assume was a wider distribution network for Teenbeat, Matador was able to not only promote one of the great underground labels of the era, but they were also able to place themselves among those early fledgling indies. The Unrest comp demonstrates a cacophonous creativity alive in the DC scene (and beyond). The Teenbeat 50 might still sit on a shelf, waiting for release had Matador not given it a nudge (or possibly funding/support). I don’t know this for sure, but Teenbeat’s site suggests the comp was supposed to be released the fall of 1990 and wasn’t issued until three years later. Either way, I’m glad it saw the light of day and found its way into Matador’s first 100 releases.
(Admittedly, this was not my best effort, but you were due a post. Hopefully, I can get another out much quicker.)
The Matador 100 Project: Railroad Jerk & Teenage Fanclub (Olé 022-023)
The next two releases in the Matador 100 come from what are two of the better-known acts of the early Matador roster. Railroad Jerk released “Younger than You” in the middle of 1991, while Teenage Fanclub released “God Knows It’s True.”
“Younger than You,” Railroad Jerk’s first 7″, is a raucous romp directed at ridiculing olds attending shows or something like that. The track feels messy and warbled, but a close listen reveals something more precise and on time. Railroad Jerk yell and twist their guitars, but it somehow comes together in a great cacophony. The b-side is the equally wild “Ballad of Jim White.”
I haven’t a ton to add to Railroad Jerk. I love rediscovering their material as I missed them the first time around. There wasn’t a lot of indie rock available in West-Central Ohio (where I grew up) in the early 90’s, especially Railroad Jerk’s brand of sloppy blues punk rawk.
Teenage Fanclub’s “God Knows It’s True” is a 1991 Matador 7″ previously released as an EP in the UK by Paperhouse in 1990. Don Fleming produced the record which is a cool bit of trivia, I suppose. The covers for the two releases differed in artwork and length. I have the US release by Matador with its illustration of swamp creatures. The UK version is created from some multi-exposure camera trickmulti-exposure camera trick. I assume it’s one of the band members.
The 7″/EP is the link between Teenage Fanclub’s Matador debut Catholic Education and their classic Bandwagonesque. The title track is one of unrequited love. “So Far Gone” continues the louder, grungier Fanclub as they began to insert the melodies they would be better known for in later releases. The EP version features two other tracks in “Weedbreak” and “Ghetto Blaster” as filler instrumentals.
A Note about the Discography:
If you’re paying attention, I’ve skipped some numbers. Matador numbered releases before they made it to market, which some did not. I’ve addressed this before, but it seems that old discography with all the non-releases has been taken down. Now worries. I’m only writing about actual Matador releases.
The Matador 100 Project: El Chain Gang (Olé 015, note about Olé 019)
El Chain Gang is something else. I didn’t see this one coming in the discography. A punk band formed in the 70’s putting out a 7″ EP on Matador in 1991. Of course, El Chain Gang had a long history in the NYC underground and just happened to be unlucky enough to get noticed in that time. There were some brushes with fame in the form of a minor hit on the British charts (“Son of Sam”) and the soundtrack for Mondo Manhattan.
“Kill for Your” is a double 7″ set with a fold-out flyer tucked inside the plastic jacket. The artwork is as gritty and old-school punk as the music contained on the four discs. Despite this being a rather raucous punk band, one can tell right away how “polished” they are in comparison to many of the other bands released to this point on Matador. Additionally, their slow-to-mid-tempo stomps help explain why they didn’t catch on in the New Wave and Hardcore scenes of the 80’s. This release is a bit of a tribute to the mileage they put on the NYC punk scene during that time.
A note about Olé 019: El Chain Gang also released a CD-onlyt EP on Matador 2 years later. However, since I am focusing this series on the first 100 vinyl releases by Matador, it won’t be included. Which fine by me as this isn’t really my thing, but I appreciate where this band sits in NYC punk rock history and am happy to own an artifact from that history.
A note on the Matador 100: My hope is to churn out a bunch of these short takes on early Matador releases. I have a pile of them to consume which gives me time to acquire releases by Shams, Bullet Lavolta, Toiling Midgets, and Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 among other bands I haven’t really explored. We’re really just getting started here.
The Matador 100 Project: Dustdevils’ Struggling, Electric, & Chemical (Olé 014)
Jointly released by Teen Beat in 1991, Dustdevils’ second Matador release was the Wharton Tiers produced Struggling, Electric, & Chemical. The Sonic Youth comparisons remain, but there’s a separation into something that sounds much more like future releases from Pavement. Of course, it doesn’t hurt Mark Ibold is the string between all these bands, but even he would admit he had little to do with any aesthetic any of the three groups produced.
The opening track was best described by Chicago Tribune’s Greg Kot, who for all I know just listened to said track:
The Devils’ 10-minute cover of the Fall’s “Hip Priest” is a mind-blowing masterpiece of corrosion and decay: A female voice clings desperately to a thread of melody; huge, ghostly edifices of sound emerge from the sparest guitar chords; drums and bass collide, fall back and collide again as if auditioning for a Cecil Taylor session. More noise and disruption follow, even a wretched blues, all reportedly recorded in a single bleary day.
It is a case of the cover being just as good or better than the original and the original was pretty damned good.
The second track screams of a Sonic Youth onslaught. Again, where other bands’ influence is apparent, Dustdevils certainly hold their own. With this record, Dustdevils firmly plant themselves in the annals of noise rock. From there, Dustdevils rarely let up. And when they do, it’s for fits of noise and distortion. This record sounds like it was from the 90’s but somehow remains fresh 25 years later.
A quick note about Ole-013: Toys Went Berserk’s last LP was set to be released by Matador but it never came to fruition. The Australian outfit put out the album on Aussie imprint Aberrant Records despite recording here in the States with Pixies’ producer Gary Smith. It seems unclear as to why Toys Went Berserk never released on Matador. I suppose it was in talks and Matador moved on with other releases and it just never happened.
On a side note, I am still doing this project. I gathered a few records to review but just haven’t had the time. I need to figure out where I am with the discography and get back to collecting so that I can continue putting out these posts. It’s not that I’m adding anything to the discography. I just wanted something to do and to find some way to honor my favorite record label.
The Matador 100 Project: Teenage Fanclub’s A Catholic Education (Olé 012)
I just missed the Teenage Fanclub bandwagon. That’s to say that I got into independent music right after the band’s major breakthrough release – 1991’s Bandwagonesque – rolled onto the scene. Of course, I was into label mates (Geffen) Nirvana, so it would be a couple of years before I would dive into indie labels like Matador and their infinite discographies. This was actually Teenage Fanclub’s third release and, as stated above, I missed the whole thing.
Luckily, I did get into indie rock and indie labels. And even luckier, I found time and enough income to go back through these discographies and catch up. This little blogging project helped me find Teenage Fanclub’s first (possibly) US release and now I’ve been fully introduced to 1990’s A Catholic Education.
Now, I have seen Teenage Fanclub in-person, once. They played with Bettie Serveert (also of Matador) at the Crocodile Club in Seattle in the summer of 1997. It was a great show and what I remembered about Teenage Fanclub was that they were a great bar band. This was sort of a thing in the early and mid-90’s among indie/alternative acts. Bands like The Lemonheads or Buffalo Tom had these catchy rockers that filled LP’s and setlists. They rarely disappointed as this is the kind of music one likes to hear at a bar or rock club. Sometimes they didn’t inspire if you didn’t pay attention. I honestly wasn’t paying attention as I missed them in my Nirvana days and was kinda over bar bands not named “Guided by Voices” in 1997.
A Catholic Education is a perfect example as to why I should have paid attention. This sludgy collection of rockers is a nice blend of that rocker aesthetic, a touch of pre-Nirvana grunge, as well as some nice melodies that have stuck in my head ever since this record arrived in the mail.
“Everything Flows” is a great opener, one that has wormed it’s way into my brain as I play those riffs over and over in my head. The vocals have that pleasant Evan Dando tone over a steady, mid-tempo rocker. This is followed by the familiar “Everybody’s Fool” – another mid-tempo pleaser. When “Everything Flows” isn’t running through my head, the refrains “I don’t fucking care…” and “I’m laughing at you all the time” from “Everything…” are filing the void. This was a pretty great start to the band’s LP output.
The title track doesn’t disappoint. The band must have also thought so as they included it twice, once on each side. I honestly haven’t listened to the two tracks side-by-side to tell you what the difference is. I feel like the second version is faster, more rocking, and lacking keyboards. Either way, one gets the sense Teenage Fanclub was getting feisty and political with their title tracks.
The rest of the album pleases as much as the first three tracks suggest they should. Things slow a bit a mope about with “Eternal Light.” There are two instrumentals called “Heavy Metal,” the second being the darker, more interesting version in my opinion. “Critical Mass” almost jangles while the rest of the tracks round out what is an excellent debut album.
The production is a bit mucky, but the sequence of tracks is super enjoyable. I would pay way too much to see the band play this record in its entirety and in the sequence on the vinyl release, not the CD.
I don’t know if Teenage Fanclub were hugely influential, but one can’t miss that this record released in 1990 certainly was doing all the things bands attempted over the next 5-10 years. I’m glad I dug this record up just for the cause of collecting Matador’s first 100 releases. It paints a better picture of the scene for me and helps prove that Matador knew what they were doing when they put our records by the likes of Teenage Fanclub.
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