THE FUCKIN' FLYIN' A-HEADS interview - Ugly Things #19 magazine (2001)

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'Swiss Cheese Back' b/w 'Watchin' TV' 7"

(Otaro Records, Hawaii. Catch 2. 1980. Ltd 500)

THE HANATARASHI & CONDOME CASSEX cassette releases - mail-order lists, flyers, magazine article, etc.

THE NEW BLOCKADERS 'Live At Morden Tower' 1983 performance history article - C/U/N/T #1 magazine (2016)

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'Live At Morden Tower' Cassette (Side A & B)

THE NEW BLOCKADERS 'Changez Les Blockeurs' LP article - C/U/N/T #2 magazine (2018)

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Side A

Side B

DEREK BAILEY : 'On The Edge : Improvisation (It's Nature and Practice)' 1992 Channel 4 UK TV Series Episodes 1-4

"A series of four 55 minute films shown on Channel 4 TV in the UK in early 1992. To say this was the best and most intelligent analysis of improvisation to be screened on UK television is probably unnecessary: it has in all likelihood been the only televised programme on this form of music-making. Written and narrated by Derek Bailey, produced and directed by Jeremy Marr, it developed out of the first edition of Bailey's book on improvisation (the broadcast almost coinciding with the publication of the second edition) and attempted to provide a world-view of the subject, not being bound by country, musical genre or preconception."

1: Passing it on

Broadcast 2 February 1992 this programme featured: Douglas Ewart at Haynes School in Chinatown, Chicago; improvisation in Mozart with Robert Levin, piano and the Acadamy of Ancient Music with Christopher Hogwood; John Zorn and Cobra; improvisation in religious and devotional music and communities with: Naji Hakim - organ improvisations in Paris; Gaelic psalm singing on the Scottish Isles of Harris and Lewis; and Indian singing with Pundit Hanuman Misra.

2: Movements in time

Broadcast 9 February 1992, tracing the effects of migration on improvising links across continents and the production of new styles from the combinations: qawwali from the Sufis in New Delhi, Northern India; Hindu music of Rajistan with Ram Narayan; early medieval music performed in Andalucia by Symphony (Stevie Wishart, Mark Loopuy, Jim Denley); improvisation in dance with: Mario Maya, flamenco; Indian kathak mime and movement; and Egyptian gypsy music; the mixture of Cuban music and jazz with Eddie Palmieri.

3: A liberating thing

Broadcast 16 February 1992, concentrating on jazz based and free improvisation. With Max Roach at the Harlam School of the Arts; Butch Morris conducting (with, among others, Shelley Hirsch); Sang-Won Park and Korean music; Max Eastley's sound sculptures; Derek Bailey (solo and fleetingly with Phil Wachsmann, Steve Noble and Alex Ward); Steve Noble and Alex Ward duo; Nashville musicians including Buddy Emmons; Eugene Chadbourne.

4: Nothing premeditated

Broadcast 23 February 1992, with Jerry Garcia and The Grateful Dead; Buddy Guy; George Lewis and computers (and in quartet with Douglas Ewart and sound and video generation); mbira music from Zimbabwe; music of the Tonga people; concluding with a house party on the Lower East side.

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OLD SKULL - 2 x newspaper articles (Los Angeles Times June '89 + People Sept '89)

A couple of early newspaper articles from around the time debut album 'Get Outta School' was released. Full album here :

LOS ANGELES TIMES article - June 18th 1989

ELECTRIC YOUTH: The teen-pop phenomenon is a...

By PAUL GREIN

ELECTRIC YOUTH: The teen-pop phenomenon is a certifiable pop trend, but 9-year-old J.P. Toulon of Madison, Wis., doesn’t want to wait until he’s a teen-ager to make his mark on the music scene.

So Toulon formed a rock group, Old Skull, which has released an album and is set to play two local dates this week.

But don’t look for Old Skull at Tomorrowland Terrace in Disneyland. The group, which also includes Toulon’s younger brother, Jamie, 7, and his friend Jesse Colins-Davies, 9, doesn’t play poppy kid-stuff like New Kids on the Block or teen-dream ballads like Debbie Gibson. Old Skull bills itself as the world’s youngest punk band. Its rallying cry: “Tiffany can kiss our (rear)!”

The group, scheduled to play Monday at the Club With No Name and Tuesday at Bogart’s, just released its debut album, “Get Outta School.”

All of which has made Toulon the B.M.O.C. of his fourth-grade class.

“They think it’s pretty cool now that we have a record out,” he said by phone from Madison. Toulon added that his parents have been pretty cool too. “They just say, ‘Don’t throw your equipment into the audience,’ ” he reports.

Toulon’s father Vern, 34, is also in a local band, the Meek. But his band doesn’t have a record deal.

“I’ve only been playing twice as long as he’s been alive,” said Dad. “But hey, it’s cool. And if the L.A. dates lead to a full-scale tour, we could open for them.”



PEOPLE article - September 18th 1989

Those Precocious Young Bloods in Old Skull Are the Only Punk Rockers with a 9 O'Clock Bedtime

by PEOPLE staff

They are every baby-sitter’s nightmare: three leather-lunged boys who curse with abandon, never sit still and just can’t get their hands on enough stuff to break. But Jesse Collins-Davies, 10, J.P. Toulon, 10, and his brother Jamie, 8, haven’t been sent to their rooms for their antics—they’ve gotten a record contract instead. Together they are Old Skull, the world’s youngest punk band.

Old Skull got its start three years ago in Madison, Wis., when the boys began jamming with the blessings of their dads, Robin Davies, a rock bass player, and Verne Toulon, who plays in a local rock band. By the time executives at Restless Records in L.A. heard one of their tapes, the trio had perfected what company talent recruiter Ron Goudie calls their “insightful and unpolluted” sound. Their debut album, Get Outta School, was released in June and has sold some 10,000 copies.

Old Skull’s members admit to a certain lack of polish. J.P, for instance, can’t play all the chords on his guitar. “It sounds better that way,” he says. And Jamie, Jesse claims, “doesn’t do nothin’ but smash on metal.” (“I do too,” Jamie counters.) The boys do write their own material—songs ranging from the gritty “Kick Ass” (“We’re gonna kick ass ’cause my dad said so”) to the more civic-minded “AIDS” and “Homeless.” This summer they strutted their stuff at the Ritz nightclub in New York and on MTV. Says J.P.: “We got to smash our equipment and blow away people’s speakers.”

Back home, life is generally calmer. The band practices once a month in the Toulons’ basement in preparation for weekend gigs around Wisconsin. They spend their free time skateboarding and are in bed by 9ish. And should their new fame start to go to their heads, there is always school to keep them in line. “The principal won’t let us play our music anymore because we say ‘hell’ and ‘ass,’ ” says J.P “I sort of see what he means.”

OLD SKULL 'Prepubescent Punk' article - Mother Jones magazine (Oct 1989)

'TEESSIDE SMELLS OK!' article about the original local Punk scene - Smash Hits (!!!) magazine (December 1979)

SIMON MORRIS 'The Feeling That Your Head Is Exploding...' #6 Dec '97 - 10pg zine/booklet

KILSLUG interview - The Unholy Hand fanzine (2009)

UPSIDEDOWN CROSS 2 x article/interview - Worcester Phoenix newspaper (1999)

UPSIDEDOWN CROSS WORCESTER PHOENIX 1
http://www.worcesterphoenix.com/archive/music/99/04/30/ON_THE_ROCKS.html

Satan and a six-pack
Hangin' with Upsidedown Cross
by John O'Neill

Spoken about in hushed tones, and known chiefly as that band in perpetual hiding in their rehearsal space, Upsidedown Cross have been one of the seven hills' more mysterious pieces of music folklore. Thought to have broken up -- they haven't played a Worcester date in nearly eight years -- the inverted ones, it turns out, have been biding their time, waiting to unleash their Satanic asses on the scene just as the millennium approaches. Kinda like the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, only with beer breath. Oh, and they've been touring the country at-will, where they're generally considered quite a legendary act, indeed. They've also acquired a knack for not being invited back a second time, having recently been bounced from New York's Coney Island High after a total of 45 seconds on stage -- they blew the club's power. Just another day at the shop for the boys.
"We sometimes have problems like that," says founding frontman Larry Lifeless. "Once we were in Boston and somebody lit one of our props on fire. But we just kept playing, who gives a shit? They did close the club down when the fire department came."

Since forming some 10 years ago from the ashes of Kilslug (Cheez on bass is the other original Crosser. The new line-up also has Dirty Ed on guitar, Bobgod on the drums, MacNamara on lead guitar, and Hobit on the keyboard), Upsidedown Cross have spent a career battling against convention and occasionally shooting themselves in the foot, all in the name of putting on a show. A typical performance could include live earthworms on Madonna statues, or the band could bust-up a makeshift alter or spray fire extinguishers full of pee at folks. They take their entertainment very seriously. As Cheez explains, "We're a horri-metal band. Not horrible, horror-metal, so we're gonna put on a spectacle. It's taken us six weeks to get ready for this [they play this Friday at Lucky Dog] show. There are a lot of props. We like props!"

Which, from where we sit, is true. Their rehearsal space includes a CVS bag full of small religious pamphlets and prayer books, a couple of crosses (upside-down, natch) on the wall, including a lovely six-footer with HATE painted on it. In a cardboard box are a couple statues of Mary, a tile wall-hanging depicts a Bible passage, there's a so-far unbreakable Last Supper scene and a load of plastic bubble wrap on which the band like to paint. Evil stuff, this desecration business. But in talking to the guys, you don't get the feeling they're slated for a trip to Hell. Burger King, maybe, definitely the package store, but not Hell.

And their music says the same thing. Their third album, Witchcraft (Final Injection), is certainly tuff and dark and, well, evil; but there's also a touch of wink-and-nudge in Larry Lifeless's lyrics, which are a nasal, in-and-out-of-key, buzzbomb, squawk of a delivery. While songs like "Fire" are at the core a bit disturbed, lyrics like "At the coffee shop/Said it was a pot/Left on the stove/Became too hot" make it more of a stoner-Sabbath vibe that the band ride -- though Lifeless is always up for fixating on the power of Satan or witch burning, arson, and inner voices. It's just as much a flat-out hoot as it is demonic.

Having originally released two discs on Taang! in the early '90s (they signed a seven-album deal but bailed after getting screwed moneywise) with alt-hero J. Mascis on drums, the Cross have been through numerous line-ups, settling into this newest incarnation just six months ago.

"Everyone else either a) had a breakdown or b) were crybabies who couldn't stand alcohol abuse or c) crazier than we were," Cheez explains while fetching a round of beer. "[The current group] were all friends who had known each other for years. It just came together. We've already got stuff. Four songs are recorded, and we'll do five or six more and try to shop it to labels."

"That thing with Taang!, we lost our publishing rights, they took everything," adds Lifeless. "The bright part of the story is we have a new law firm -- the Trench Coat Mafia. They're going to San Diego to talk to Taang!"

The band's prolonged absence from the Worcester scene seems to come down to the simple choice of not wanting to bother to hunt down a gig. They remember the days of Worcester past when the hair-metal bands ruled Green Street. It made more sense to practice for cheap in town, then take it out on the road.

"We really didn't play Worcester cuz we thought there was nothing here for us," says Cheez. "We went to Austin and California and New York. All these other places have better food. We're on the menu tour."

"The band has been everything from a two-piece to a 10-piece. I've been to the rottenest places where it was 120 degrees to awful places with three feet of snow," expounds Lifeless on the band's long, strange road and general shitty luck. "We broke down in Nevada and didn't even realize prostitution was legal till the day we left!"

Why the band continue on is a no-brainer. They love to drink, eat Chinese food, rehearse, hang out, and, mostly, entertain. You may love it, you may hate it, but you won't soon forget an Upsidedown Cross show. Which is the chief reason they want a record deal -- more props. As Cheez readily agrees, "We want bigger props. We need more lights and a six-foot wall of flame. Fuckin' A! That's why I wanna get signed. Big Props!"

"Nobody would mind making some money, we're making nothing," says a more reserved Dirty Ed. "Right now we're just entertainment for the masses that dare to step close enough."

UPSIDEDOWN CROSS WORCESTER PHOENIX 2
http://www.worcesterphoenix.com/archive/music/99/08/20/ON_THE_ROCKS.html

Fright right
City officials threaten to shut down MAFIO's day-long concert
by John O'Neill

Seventy-five Webster Street is legendary. The old warehouse is home to a 24-hour gym, a handful of photo studios, and various arts-based retail businesses; but it's the building's basement that is both famous and infamous among musicians. Bands have operated out of the cool and dank rehearsal spaces here for at least 20 years; other than the names on the rented rooms, not much has changed in two decades.

On one recent night, the sound of a beat-challenged drummer reverberates from near the entrance, while metal power-riffing ping-pongs off the concrete from somewhere around the corner and down the hall. The overhead lighting buzzes with the impending death throes inherent to fluorescent tubes. And the bathroom, decorated in Early Filth, emits an odor of a thousand misaimed whizzes. With a latticework of cobwebs that hangs just low enough to make you duck -- and with the festival of urine stink, which has leached deep into the walls -- any trip here is an adventure into potential horror. It also gives the phrase "bowels of a building" an entirely different meaning.

Standing in the hallway with an admitted narcotics jag on is Cheez Fetachini (his spelling), bass player of Upsidedown Cross. If any band are a natural fit in the surrounding squalor they are the men of the Cross. A wall of empty beer cans, smashed religious artifacts, and a lead singer propped up in the corner with green face goo smeared across his puss -- their rehearsal room is the equivalent of Dante's clubhouse. Equal parts gentleman-hosts and sick bastards, Cheez and his crew now find they're the unwitting poster boys for a local fight over free speech that threatens the future of Worcester's outdoor concerts. Arguably the city's most controversial band (this May, they were bounced from the Lucky Dog at their first local show in nine years after a relatively mild-by-comparison set that included tossing out 2000 spider rings and 200 painted bagels, and busting a bunch of Virgin Mary statues), they stand as the odds-on-favorite to elicit the city's (unconstitutional) wrath at this weekend's MAFIO Summer Music Fest. Fueled by the complaints of, arguably, the privileged few (namely, Green Hill golfers), the Cross, as well as all outdoor performers this summer, could have their shows shut down by the city if musicians engage in the ill-defined act of "vulgarity" or if they use "profanity" on stage.

PERHAPS THE PUBLICITY couldn't have come at a better time for the Inverted Ones. They have yet another fine, new album with their impending Hate (they're fourth release) and virtually no chance of getting booked at a Worcester club. Yet the band are looking to get back to the level of international success enjoyed when they were on Taang! Records. Though originally signed to a five-record deal, UDX (whose drummer at the time was alterna-grunge god J. Mascis) bailed after two releases, unhappy with their relationship with Taang!. They've since started the Final Injection imprint and have finally managed to keep a solid line-up together.

"We don't want to jinx it, but we've heard from clubs in Chile that want us to come down. [Hopefully], they'll let us do a regular show without being harassed like we are here in the Northeast," says Cheez. "But they're very religious in South America, so who knows?"

In the meantime, the band as infamous as their HQ have made a name for themselves -- based chiefly on rumor and perceived lifestyle -- in the Worcester-based musicians collective Musicians and Friends International Organization (MAFIO). Less than a year old, MAFIO has quickly become a local force, a support system for local entertainers and a platform to discuss music-related topics Through it, musicians trade information (everything from designing a press kit to sharing media contacts); it also acts as a talent pool for bands looking to flesh out line-ups. Embracing a variety of music styles, MAFIO (which is 50-bands strong) will hold what can be considered its coming-out party this Saturday in a 22-band free-for-all at Cristoforo Columbo Park. Everyone from Mingo's and Billy Pain's homegrown hip-hop to Critical Condition's three-chord pop punk to Gangsta Bitch Barbie's rapcore will be represented.

That Upsidedown Cross will be there is equal parts shit luck and fate.

"Basically Lloyd [Plumstead, MAFIO's chief architect] came down to the rehearsal space and said he'd buy us free drinks [if we came to a meeting], so that's why we went down," says Cross guitarist Dirty Ed. "When we got down there, we found cool bands and a cool agenda, and we've been there for every meeting. One band can only do so much, but 20 or 30 bands working together is more power to us."

Upsidedown Cross are easily MAFIO's most unsettling act, if for no other reason than most people miss the obvious tongue-in-cheek aspect to all that devil loving (how anyone could get their undies in a twist over lyrics like "Kill for Satan/Why are you waitin'" is almost as absurd as the sentiment itself). But the band even have other MAFIO members walking on eggshells. Because the city's Parks Commission has ruled that it will pull the plug on the show for anything interpreted (by city officials who vowed to monitor the show) as vulgar -- some bands sheepishly have suggested the Cross not be allowed on the bill.

The commission's threat is an edict that could conceivably affect not only MAFIO's showcase this weekend, but also September's annual Locobazooka Festival (which last year drew an audience of more than 10,000; this year, headliners include Primus and Type O Negative) and any potential future shows on city-owned land.

"Profanity was a major concern. Everything must be in good taste," says Plumstead. In meeting with the Parks Commission, deputy commissioner Rob Antonelli told MAFIO representatives that there would be one warning and one warning only before the show was forced to close. The commission also requested that the PA system be equipped with a kill switch, and Plumstead is required to carry a cell phone so he'll be in direct contact with the city throughout the day-long Shrewsbury Street event.

"If they received complaints from the citizens they would ask us -- actually, they would tell us -- to shut down," relates MAFIO board member Alan Gomes, whose son Matt plays in the pop/punk trio Critical Condition, whose upcoming disc is titled, appropriately enough, Censorship Sucks. Says the younger Gomes of the city's stance, "I plan to stick with it, but with reservation. I don't like limitations because it takes away from how you can express yourself."

Critical ConditionHow the city came to willfully suggest it may steamroll the US Constitution in favor of good, clean fun is actually little more than the result of last year's Locobazooka, which met head on with city Councilor Tim Cooney's golf game. While on the links near the all-day Green Hill Park festival, Cooney heard a band of questionable moral turpitude apparently infringe (several sources say a musician screamed "shit" while on stage) upon his right to putt in peace. When Loco's promoter Dan Hartwell later returned to City Hall to present Worcester with its cut (since the festival's inception, Hartwell has donated funds to benefit the city's pools and zoo), Cooney went unceremoniously bonkers. Fortunately for Hartwell, Councilor Stacey Luster made quick work of Cooney by dropping the word "censorship."

"I made a big stink, but it was pretty vulgar," says Cooney of the Back Nine Incident. "If it's in a confined area in a building [that] is one thing, but neighborhoods shouldn't be subjected to it."

Though Cooney acknowledges there were no neighborhood complaints the day of the show, after his chamber-floor outburst, "other people [brought the foul language] up to me . . . mostly golfers.

"I think [the Parks Commission] has curtailed [Hartwell] and sent him a message that it's up to him to control his performers. You can still have your entertainment, but not at other people's expense. I'm not against people enjoying themselves, but the offendee has certain rights, too. They're on taxpayer's property."

As in the people's land. And that's the Big Oops that makes the potential shutdown by the city ripe for a lawsuit should it decide to act on the threat. While their intent may be noble in theory, it isn't within the city's rights to curtail what is only morally objectionable language. As comedian Lenny Bruce ultimately proved (in what cost him his livelihood, and finally his life) one man's profanity is another man's descriptive; and filthy is in the eye of the beholder. Not in 35 years (since Bruce's obscenity convictions were overturned by the US Supreme Court) has an entertainer been convicted of obscenity.

"The problem is one, what is profanity? The second issue is who decides what profanity is? The third problem is there is no legal definition of profanity, so there is no reasonable enforcement for standards," says American Civil Liberties Union Worcester chapter director Ronal Madnick. "What's profanity to a police officer may not be profane to someone else."

While members of MAFIO agree to stay within the perimeters of the Parks Commission's request -- Hartwell too reports that this year's Locobazooka line-up is also falling into line -- it's only for fear that failure to comply could lead to more serious consequences than simply shutting down a show. There is an undercurrent that future promotions could run into considerable resistance when it comes time to grant the necessary permits.

"I've checked into the legality of it," says Hartwell. "[Legal action] would blow up Locobazooka, and then there wouldn't be a concert. And that would be too bad because it took years [to get to this level], and the city deserves a good show."

The city's attempt to shield our ears is ultimately naïve. Call it the eroding of the value system, blame it on Jerry Springer, point the finger at Hollywood -- but, frankly, the language in question no longer carries the weight it once did on the shock-o-meter. Unfortunate to face for some, but it's a fact. As Madnick readily adds, "A lot of people use the F-word in normal speech! It's not that shocking anymore. People can roll up the window of the car, or run quickly by. [As for pulling the plug], I don't know if they can do that."

Which brings us back to Upsidedown Cross. Having spent a career blasting their toes off in the name of putting on a great show, they realize all eyes are on them. MAFIO is holding its breath, Hartwell is a little nervous, and the Parks Commission waits to see what it will do if, in fact, it's confronted with on-stage obscenity. Though the Cross's music rarely contains classic profanity, it is chock full of what is considered blasphemous rhetoric. And no show is complete unless crucifixes are hurled into the crowd, religious icons smashed, and Satan gets his proper. How this next performance will all play out is anyone's guess.

"Actually we talked to the city to find out what we can and can't do without getting arrested, and we don't want to get shut down. We won't be smashing Mother Marys, we'll be smashing blue `ghosts,'" says Cheez with a smile. "[Even MAFIO] is afraid we'll do something totally fucked-up. Dan Hartwell said if it doesn't go right, we're gonna wreck outdoor shows. But it will still be interesting -- mayhem, destruction, and the ballsy-est Cross show to be seen yet . . . without swearing."

KILSLUG interview - Forced Exposure magazine #5 (1983)

STEFAN JAWORZYN / ASCENSION interview - The Wire magazine #156 (Feb 1997)

VAGINA DENTATA ORGAN article - Record Collector magazine #405 (Sept 2012)

VAGINA DENTATA ORGAN provoke outrage. But their highly collectable records are serious comments on modern society Freek Kinkelaar reports

VDO NASTY?

Anyone who uses the slogan “The most fanatical band in the world” has some explaining to do. However, Vagina Dentata Organ (VDO) don’t offer explanations. They simply offer us our society as they see it. VDO’s records have been the focus of heated discussion over the years. “We sell blood, sex, life and death – at a price” is another much-cited quote. VDO’s records do indeed sell for extreme prices, but their content is equally extreme and uncompromising. The more conservative press has been keen to use moral statements such as “shocking” and “disgusting” for VDO – the very same words used to describe The Rolling Stones in the early 60s.

VDO is a one-man concept, but certainly not a one-trick pony, centered around Barcelona born Jordi Valls. Moving from Spain to the UK in the late 70s, Valls caught the London punk movement in its prime and, like so many, became enthralled by the ruthless rawness and anarchy of the first generation punk bands. In 1978 he bumped into Throbbing Gristle’s Genesis P-Orridge in the street, resulting in Valls organising several TG gigs in London.

With a keen interest and talent in communication, Valls’ name soon started appearing in articles about TG, Come Organization and Whitehouse in magazines, gig flyers and on radio programmes. The Whitehouse connection, with Valls managing them in the early 80s, led to Valls’ appearance on their hugely collectable 1982 Psychopathia Sexualis album, where he introduces each track in his native language, Catalan. That year, he inspired Boyd Rice (aka NON) to record the track Fatal Dentro De Un Auto, based on a car accident Valls experienced in the early 80s. The track was released on NON’s 12” single Rise (Mute 015, Ј15). In 1983, Valls voiced Catalan, a track on Psychic TV’s Dreams Less Sweet. This, in turn, led to a collaboration with cineaste Derek Jarman on the short movie Catalan, the cinematic reconstruction of Valls’ car accident, using the actual car Valls had the accident in. It was found at a scrapyard – with dry blood still inside it.

Enjoying these experiences, Valls thought up the concept of Vagina Dentata Organ; a project as unpredictable as Valls himself. Combining the 20s surrealism of Andrй Breton, Salvador Dalн and Luis Buсuel with some added grotesquery and some Hieronymus Bosch thrown in, Valls’ first release, the album Music For The Hashishins, consisted solely of the sounds of growling made by dogs trained to kill. The album, released on Valls’ label WSNS (World Satanic Network System), caused quite a stir in 1983. The Hashishins were a fearless and violent Persian order, dating from around 1200, from whose name the modern word “assassin” has been derived. Despite a reissue of the album on Psychic TV’s Temple label, originals are still verymuch in demand. The record is an uncompromising statement; a boot in the bollocks of accepted standards in ethics and aesthetics. However, VDO’s next album would put it in the shade.

The Last Supper caused a storm of outrage in 1984. With a picture disc featuring photographs of People’s Temple cult leader Jim Jones and the victims of the November 1978 mass suicide in French Guyana, and the sound itself featuring actual and unedited recordings made on the night of the suicide, “reality or nothing” seemed to be Valls’ motto. Each picture disc was numbered for a victim; 912 in total. Much like SPK’s urge to “expose the cathedral of death”, VDO too left no stone, no truth unturned. On the wave of notoriety, the LP sold out quickly and is extremely collectable today. Some copies included a transcript of Jim Jones’ words, persuading his followers to “take the poison” and urging them to “go to sleep”. It’s a shocking document of religious blindness.

That same year, the second VDO picture disc appeared; a live recording of a ancient ritual in the village of Calanda (Spain), where every year at Easter over 2,000 drums are beaten for two days non-stop. The skins of the drums are stained with the blood of the drummers’ hands. Some of the discs featured Valls’ own blood encapsulated on the disc. There are, however, also copies with fake blood, identifiable by their off-brown color, which, although slightly more common, still fetch well over Ј150. Around 12 copies were hand-decorated by Valls and given to friends and family. 1984 also saw VDO’s debut live performance on the legendary Spanish TV programme La Eldad De Oro. Valls performed Music For The Hashasins on an emulator with 16 live dogs tied to the stage. During the performance, he destroyed several paintings by the Catalan painter Casademont, using two scimitars. Bags of blood were hidden behind the canvases, so when the paintings were slashed, blood dripped from them. The performance led to a national debate and was discussed in the Spanish Parliament and, as a result, La Eldad De Oro was closed down.

Two years later, Valls released a third picture disc, dedicated to the two greatest sex symbols ever: Elvis Presley and Marilyn Monroe. However, the picture disc featured images of both of them on their deathbeds; the record was called Cold Meat. Here too, Valls created a special sub-edition featuring hand-painted messages. The disc itself featured the sounds of couples making love, representing love and death as Eros and Thanatos – twins in the world of Greek mythology. Copies sold out in a matter of days, despite, or perhaps fuelled by, the inevitable controversy. It became clear that the works of VDO were impossible to predict – as was as the silence that followed Cold Meat. For the next eight years Valls did not create a single record. “I had nothing to say,” was his straightforward explanation.

Since the 80s Valls no longer releases his works on vinyl, but on CD only. Even though the value of CDs in general has shown a steady decline, VDO CDs remain very collectable. So far, Valls has released four, each as unique and unpredictable as the one preceeding.

Un Chien Catalan (1994, and referring to Buñuel’s film Un Chien Andalou) was a complete surprise to everyone. Comprising nothing but the sound of a Harley-Davidson engine, Valls dedicated the album to a close friend, who drove the bike himself for the recording – just before his suicide. The CD, described as a meeting in hell between Jimi Hendrix, Philip Glass, and Karlheinz Stockhausen, gained favourable reviews worldwide and sold well. Follow-up, The Perpignan Killings, can perhaps best be described as a VDO mega mix, featuring bits and pieces of all his previous records mixed in one fierce blast of fury. Best consumed, of course, with a glass of absinthe in hand.

The Great Masturbator (2004), dedicated to Salvador Dali, consisted of one hour of bells tolling in Dali’s memory. It’s a strangely compelling but fitting homage to the greatest surrealist artist who ever lived. Music For The Blind, released in 2007, is Valls’ most recent and perhaps most ambitious release. Wanting to create music that would be so beautiful it made you cry, Music For The Blind contains five versions of Enrico Toselli’s (1883-1926) Serenata played by Bernarda Jones for solo violin. The first traditional “music” album by Valls might appeal to collectors of classical music, but they would probably hesitate to ask for the Vagina Dentata Organ section in any store.

Apart from these four CD releases, Valls worked on his “blood paintings”; canvases created in the early 90s with his own blood. Recent years have seen more frequent performances by Valls. More events than gigs, often in collaboration with his brother Marc, these continue to create havoc. Their exhibition on religious taboos in Barcelona, planned for 2008, was cancelled because of censorship – no doubt to Valls’ pleasure. 2011 saw the surprise release of Valls’ first book: The London Punk Tapes, featuring exclusive interviews with and photos of punk bands such as Sex Pistols, Damned, Slits and The Clash, based on recordings Valls made in 1976. He also used the material in VDO live performances.

Valls’ works can best be described as a ready-made collection of human emotions laid bare for consumption, without prejudice or moral preconception. They may be hard to digest for some but, to others, they’re vital audio and visual documents of our imperfect society – in all its beauty and ugliness.