Summer Lovin', The Skaters

For the past four years, each summer has gripped tightly to a dear tradition of mine: the mad consumerist rush to obtain albums from all my current musical obsessions (and the excess of money from Arctic Circle Surveillance that makes tracking down said obsessions possible). Last year I was busy picking up back catalog items from Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band, and Tatsuya Yoshida (Ruins, Koenjihiyakei, Knead, and many more), as well as many other random discs of fancy. All in all, I'd say in four months I bought 36 albums. Which, I'll admit, was a tad excessive, but working full-time in the Arctic while taking a break from school should have its perks. Not having to rape my wallet for tuition in the summer months must count for something, right? I think that it does; a cause for celebration (with headphones on).

This summer, the same logic still applies, only with the added bonus that I won't be paying tuition at all this fall, but will be instead be investing in real life stuff, like circuit-bent synthesizers and groceries. So I've got some added carefree cash, complete with little anxiety towards my future state, which'll surely include buying records anyways, so why stop now? Two months have passed in this summer, and I've been on a paypal rampage. With the next few posts, I'd like to introduce you all to the heavy vibrations of my summer obsessions.

Today: The Skaters.

The Skaters are James Ferraro and Spencer Clark; an enigmatic twosome from that blessedly damned state of outsider art, abject poverty, and sun-drenched drone: California. Like so much of the quality lo-fi revelations being put to tape 'Out There' in North America, the term"Noise" doesn't even begin to describe what it is this duo does best. Theirs is a swirling, chaotic, often majestically melodic mushroom cloud of angelic all-vocal psychedelia, an impenetrable cosmic moan that reaches out at you with smoky tendrils, drawing you in deep. Others have said their sound to be an extension of the free-jazz aesthetics dreamed up by Coltrane and Miles Davis, but don't come to this hazy party looking to dig on saxophones, or any percussion that goes beyond one hand beating out a off-beat, repetitive cosmic t h u d d d. I'm not saying that I even really agree with this assessment of their work, but I will say this: there is consciousness and soul alive in this music. The Skaters may improvise their live, electrified incantations, but before they open their big mouths, there is some serious premeditation happening.

If this has interested you so far, stay with me, because there are so important things to know when diving into the gaping body of these boys' canon. First of all, if you don't have it installed on your computer already, get yourself Soulseek (imho: the best P2P file sharing program out there), 'cuz these two sporadically release cdrs, records, and tapes that fall into two categories: 1) limited availability, and; 2) "fucking forget about it dude!" I've been into The Skaters for about a year now, so not very long at all, and I've got eight albums of what they call their "private imaginations" on my pc. Only one of these albums, Pavilinous Miracles of Circular Facet Dice, was paid for. Why? Because the others are gone, sold out, bye-bye. If you're an eBay hound, good luck, you'll do well for yourself, as I see the odd release on there from time to time, but if you feel like jumping into this psychedelic pool, be prepared to diligently nab whatever you can before it's gone in a puff of smoke. I suggest becoming familiar with the following: Fusetron, Midheaven Mailorder, Aquarius Records, Forced Exposure, Hanson Records, and Weirdo Records.

As a primer for any inductee into these secret worlds of Skaters skull-dome pleasure, I humbly recommend seeking out the following sunken treasures:

-Pavilinous Miracles of Circular Facet Dice
-Gambling in Opha's Shadow
-Mountain of Signs
-Receding Smokebath
-Untitled
-Rippling Whispers
-Humming Lattice Flowers (from the 10 lp "California" box-set put out by RRRecords)

Peace.