So...when was the last time you heard some genuinely GOOD dance music? Now, I'm not talkin' bout that push-button, Ga Ga, fashion shit with the drum, and
brainless stripper vocal, I mean some honest-to-goodness, move the coffee-table, and call
some friends up, boogie down, shake a tail feather music? You gotta hear "Like Trash", by the FLAMING STARS, if you like real sixties soul, or even soulful
punk'n'roll, like say, the Godfathers, or Thee Hypnotics. Apparently, FLAMING STARS are former members of Gallon Drunk, who have sensational taste in music.
Various musical bits have reminded me of Transvision Vamp, Primal Scream, the Acetate Records house band, DRAGBEAT, Sour Jazz, These Immortal Souls, and
Pulp. In other words, this shit's right up my alley. Next, they pull-off some absolutely killer surf guitar right outta some sixties Surf-sploitation flick!
This is the kind of band I was born to sing for. Versatile, stylish, soulful, clever, and SINCERE! SO RARE! Their lead vocalist, Max De'charne', writes
books about noir, true crime, and sleazy subcultures, I can't believe it's taken me so long to turn on to these cats, but they're fabulous. If you love the
Jim Jones Revue, Jesus And Mary Chain, Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, or Epic Soundtracks...If you'd like Chris Isaak more if he were a whole lot nastier...if
you wish you could understand Shane MacGowan's poetry without a lyric sheet, they're like Sour Jazz dead-pan: minus the sarcastic smirks...they're like Thee
Hypnotics doing Lee Hazelwood...They SMOLDER...like all my favorite Tex Perkins, or Beasts Of Bourbon records...Breathy, neon-lit, torch and twang that
reminds you of all your favorite old haunts in the bad parts of old Hollywood...The Flaming Stars effortlessly channel Elvis-movies, Link Wray, Roy Orbison,
Hawaii Five-O, Mink Deville...This is the kind of mysterious, country AND western, stripper, exotica, bull-fight, true crime, James Elroy/Jim
Jarmusch-influenced noir-cool that spoilt, pretentious, private school Americans who constantly quote Quentin Tarantino and read "Spin Magazine" can
NEVER get right, even though they invest substantial fortunes in the "Right" pomade, the "correct" Cuban heel, you know the fat cunts I'm takin'
about-those snotty fashionistas who carefully display all their "camp" outlaw-country bios on their black, glossy, Ikea furniture, who own souped-up cars,
multiple juke-boxes, and who keep fully-functional leather Martini bars in their living rooms, but never get called alcoholics, because everybody kisses
their arses to be near the money. Those guys could NEVER make music like these raving geniuses, Paul Dempsey, Mark Hosking, Huck Whitney, Joe Whitney, and
Max Decharne-NO MATTER HOW MANY COPIES OF "BUCKET FULL OF BRAINS" they read cover to cover, because they invariably lack the brains, soul, compassion, and
HUMILITY of these subtle masters. The Flaming Stars are brilliant, like the Pogues, or Dirty Three, or Scraping Foetus Off The Wheel are brilliant. Think
back to the first time you heard Mazzy Star, or those first two Albini-produced PIXIES albums. This was that sort of revelation for me today!!! Positively
thrilling. Top o' the line. LOOK FOR THIS at the used record store. "GIN MILL PERFUME" is a thing of substantial and authentic beauty you will listen to
time, and time again. The best thing I've ever heard on Alternative Tentacles. Iris Berry would love this!
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