Demo Joe #2: Cringe vs. Kramer

Today, Demo Joe turns his attention to John Salvo and his band of noise-mongers Cringe. For those unfamiliar with the name John Salvo, he was the owner-operator of Jello Tree Studios in Spokane in the 1990s, where he recorded many dozens of great local bands, from Cause and Clabberhag to Motherload and the Makers. He also led the volatile and punishing noise trio Cringe (think ’80s Butthole Surfers meets ’90s Amphetamine Reptile). Sometime in 1995, Cringe hit the road for a U.S. tour, culminating in a recording session with Mark Kramer at Noise New Jersey. Kramer was the impresario behind the great indie label Shimmy Disc, which released albums by Ween, Daniel Johnston, Damon and Naomi, Gwar, King Missile, and many others (including my favorites Dogbowl and Uncle Wiggly). He was also a founder of Bongwater with Ann Magnuson and a prolific solo artist and producer (he produced all of Galaxie 500’s albums). So it was kind of a big deal for Cringe to work with Kramer. Only, based on what I recall of John’s recounting of his experience, Salvo was disappointed with both the experience and the results. Kramer was largely absent during the session, and the recordings he “produced” were cacophonous but flat, lacking that sinewy punch that Salvo had so well captured on his own recordings of his band. Nevertheless, the three songs on this tape – “Nerve Test,” “Rock Star Bathtub Suicide,” and “Witches Brew” – are an interesting document of a good band that never got its due.

Demo Joe: Robert Roth and Jim Carroll

I recently started contributing to a Facebook community page called the Northwest Demo Tape Society in which contributors unearth and spotlight old demo cassette tapes from Pacific Northwest bands and musicians both known and unknown from the 1980s and ’90s. I once sat on a pile of such demos, also from bands both famous and obscure, but lost track of most of them years ago. As luck would have it, though, I still have a few in my possession, and I’ve been pulling them out one at a time from an old shoebox and writing a brief posts on Facebook. It’s been a worthwhile exercise so far, fun to revisit the music made by young, upstart bands and musicians (most of whom have long since gone quiet) as they were just making their first recordings—or even established ones introducing rough drafts of songs that would blossom into something remarkable. Rather than limit my posts to Facebook, I thought I would share some of them here as a new series called Demo Joe—named for the demo tape review column I wrote for The Rocket. Please note that the posts you read here have been edited, updated, or even expanded since originally appearing on the Northwest Demo Tape Society page.

For today’s post, we feature a tape of demo recordings made by author and punk icon Jim Carroll with Seattle psych-rock explorer Robert Roth (and his band Truly), who met up in a Seattle studio in 1994 to record two tracks, “Falling Down Laughing” and “Dirge Song.” “Falling Down Laughing” would be re-recorded for Carroll’s final album, 1998’s Pools of Mercury. While Roth is credited with writing the music, neither he nor his Truly mates—Hiro Yamamoto, ex-Soundgarden, and Mark Pickerel, ex-Screaming Trees—appear on the album. Carroll’s and Truly’s original recording of “Falling Down Laughing,” however, remains unreleased. “Dirge Song,” meanwhile, later became “Hairshirt Fracture,” which was remixed and issued by Kill Rock Stars in 2000 on the five-song EP Runaway, Carroll’s swan song.

As I recall, the Carroll–Roth connection originated with Rosemary Carroll, Jim’s ex-wife and Truly’s attorney. Carroll mentored Roth as he was writing the lyrics of Truly’s 1995 masterpiece Fast Stories … From Kid Coma, and he co-wrote “Repulsion” on Truly’s sophomore LP, Feeling You Up. In 1998, while touring in support of Pools of Mercury, Carroll reconnected with Roth for a show at Seattle’s Crocodile Café, with Roth joining Carroll and company on guitar. Three songs recorded from that night were included on the Runaway EP, including a live rendition of “Falling Down Laughing.” In the weeks leading up to that show, I convinced Roth to do a Q&A with Carroll to be printed in The Rocket, the magazine I was editing at the time. And that’s how I came into possession of the very tape I’m highlighting today—a generous gift from Robert Roth himself.

For more about Truly, and to purchase a 25^th anniversary digital edition of Fast Stories … From Kid Coma (a vinyl reissue said to be coming soon), visit their Bandcamp page. To venture down the vast and expanding rabbit hole of the Northwest Demo Tape Society, go here.