Asthma Attack: "Blue Lint"

CAT #DNRC 27 Format: 5 CD Box Set Released 2004 Status: DELETED One of DNRC's highest selling albums ever, "Blue Lint" spawned a whole genre dedicated to suggesting names for this delicate substance most often found in mens' navels. Powerful, moody and confronting, the music on this album begs for respect and gains it, through judicious use of four-four time beats over sparse, electrifying soundbursts with spurting bubblegum flavours. Opening nose-bleeder "Earthed" leaves no stone rose unturned, leaping from the stalls with the energy of a phetermine-laden gelding, posting co-ordinates on all four points of its own unique compass before being put out to a pasture of spangled guitar noodling. Effortless, kind and considerate, Asthma Attack then go on to break all musical rules on the sprawling odyssey that is the second and final track on this album, the prophetically-titled "Going Everywhere". Clocking in at just under three hours in length, this staggering work of emotional bleakness required the phased release of the album over a four week period. Ever the arterrorists, band founders Stacey de Burgh (no relation) and Stickly Kidd later put down the pentagonal format of this album to the fact that they had just purchased a five disc CD player, and wanted to play the album at random over the entirety of five cds. hence the abrupt mood changes on "Going Everywhere", and its spasmodic time shifts from boozehall to vauxhall to starthall. Will we ever see their likes again?

Teh: "Live At Hari's"

CAT #DNRC 26 Format: Double Album Released 2004 Status: DELETED After the relentless mood-rock of "96302", Teh seemed to flounder for a moment in their new-found popularity, before well and truly cocking it up by releasing this piece of toenail wax. Recorded live, as the name suggests, inside their friend Hari's light plane, the unspeakable ordinariness of this double album would be forgivable were it not for Teh's otherwise remarkable abilities. In the hands of any other band, a song like "Song For Hari" might have become a top ten hit; here, alas, its pitiful patter is fit only for a margarine commercial. Indeed, were it not for T and Eh's remarkable artistic integrity, each song on this album would have been destined for use as filler on Suadi FM radio stations; thankfully, even the Saudis have been spared that fate, and the entire double album's contents have been safely, though sadly deleted.

Cruns: "Bed Hair"

CAT #DNRC 25 Format: Long Player Released 2004 Status: DELETED Despite the barnstorming success of their first single "Extra Hair", Cruns made the ridiculous decision in 2004 to stop listening to their own music. This, their debut album, is the result. Composed of what could loosely be described as instructions for session musicians, "Bed Hair" was a disappointment on its first release and indeed continues to disappoint Cruns' three fans, all now living under heavy police protection in Launceston. It should be pointed out that the lacklustre nature of many of the album's tracks (note, especially "Is This Thing Switched On?" and "Where The Drum Comes In, There") was due mostly to the band's choice of producer, the now-notorious and happily-deleted On da Levelle, whose eyebrow-raising methods constituted a kiss of death for any band wishing to engage his services. The middle section of this album - a near-unlistenable litany of complaint that sounds like it was recorded in the smoker's corner behind the old DNRC studios in Tribesco - reportedly drove at leats two Cruns members to complain to war-crimes prosecutors at The Hague, with little success. Nevertheless, Cruns were also their own worst enemy, refusing to record "Bed Hair" for this release, choosing instead to insert silence where the title track should have been, deliberatly playing out of time and out of tune, turning up to recording sessions blindfolded, letting loose animals in the studios, refusing to change the band's name to Cruntastic when asked, changing the band's name to Crunny Joel when specifically ordered not to, adding extra members to the band, sacking all old members from the band, toying with the idea of becoming spoken word artists, planning a terrorist attack on their native Boston, denying they ever lived in Boston, and finally, going to the movies instead of working out the track order for the album. It's little wonder, then, that Cruns finally wore out the patience of DNRC executives, who personally tore up the cardboard cutouts left by the band in the DNRC parking lot, an act which would later inspire Cruns' so-called lead singers to form a new band, called Crunulosity and the Cardboard Crun Cruns, a barely-disguised Oasis suicide pact.

Footpath: "Spartan, Militaristic"

DNRC24
Format: Extended Player
Released: 2004
Status: DELETED Footpath continued their short spurt of releases in 1994 with the excellent and underrrated "Spartan, Militaristic" EP, during the recording of which they officially replaced former drummer Ramp Boy with the talented Jim Turkey, due to the former's excessive hiccupping. This short EP, clocking in at just three minutes in total, would be in the running for "EP of the 20th century" were it not just four years too late. There's really no point talking about the songs here, except perhaps to mention mighty opening gambit "Attitudes Can Be Measured" and closing nose-bleeder "Abstract". The recent re-release of both this EP and Footpath's debut album highlights the band's suitability to the four song format. What's interesting is the way these songs make sense in hindsight: for without "Abstract" there could have been no "Lunacy"; without "The Possibility of Measuring My Altitude" there could never, perversely, have been a stand-out track like "Nosebleeds On A Scale From One To Ten". When DNRC executives re-heard these astounding tracks, rumour has it the entire release schedule for 2004 was overriden, in order to make room for "Spartan, Militaristic" and its appalling cover artwork, which was inspired by the illegal invasion of Iraq. Jim Turkey's drumming on these songs is a revelation, so much so that instrumental track "The Validity Of the Scale" ends up sounding eerily like his former band Edinburgh Gardens Tattoo. Utterly brilliant, that is. While it's sad that Ramp Boy, whose drumming on "Gigantic and Pedantic" was nothing short of exceptional, receives no credit on this EP, and while his trademark soft shoe shuffle would be blatantly pilfered both by Jim Turkey and later his brother Don, and while doctors may well have found a cure for hiccups in the intervening ten years, and while Footpath's live performances were hampered by his legendary inability to count the band in or cease drumming at the end of songs, and while he did go on to form his own band (the unimaginatively-named Ramp Boy and the Rampmen), the fact of the matter is that the rhythm section on "Spartan Militaristic" would have sounded like two toilet cleaners if Ramp Boy had been allowed behind the kit again. As it was, the band failed to go on to bigger and greater things anyway. Their 1995 release "Broken Fingers, Busted Thumbs" (also sadly-deleted) would be their last for DNRC and the various band members are still reported to be working as fruit-pickers in their native Shepparton-Moroopna, in order to pay off their massive advances.

Footpath: "Gigantic and Pedantic"

DNRC23
Format: Long Player
Released: 2004
Status: DELETED How fitting that DNRC's first offering for 2004 should be a reissue, timed to coincide with the ten year anniversary of the release of Footpath's megalithically-themed debut, "Gigantic and Pedantic". You see kids, way back in 1994, when most of you were still in primary school, a different dinosaur ruled the earth. It straddled the Atlantic, making huge grunge waves on the left, and enormous shoegazing ripples on the right (that is, of course, assuming that the dinosaur was facing north, and that the waves did not meet in the middle and ricochet back on each other, and that dinosaurs ever straddled continents).It was the best of times, it was the most self-indulgent of times. Back in the day, when indie-dance crossover meant just that - ie, something terrible (ie, not unlike a dinosaur that - oh forget it). When preppy dweebs high on Ritalin churned out tuneless dirges while cheerfully wearing white socks and sandles. When West Coast was a cooler. When, in short, DNRC needed an antidote to the all-pervasive influence of American guitar rock over the Australian scene. Enter Footpath, stage left. Hailing from Shepparton-Maroopna, these six lads were gangly to a man, and staring down the barrell of a collective agricultural career should their music suck the big ones. Geographical disadvantages aside, Footpath were actually ideally placed to conquer the eastern seaboard, living as they did in a town small enough to tolerate their eccentric freesprawl jamming and yet large enough to feature a bus-stop and a public telephone (both pre-requisites for their eventual escape). After releasing two songs on a fanzine cassette compilation so rare it does not in fact exist, Footpath struck it lucky when a plumber mistook their unique sound for a tap dripping in a truckstop toilet. His subsequent repair attempt allowed the first member of the band (Warren Z) to steal the plumber's car and drive it to Melbourne. Soon after Spaz, Crud C, Brian, Pinge and Ramp Boy followed, albeit in different directions. Somehow, the band managed to write, rehearse, record, distribute and tour a full length album while residing in six separate states, thus providing a rare instance of the benefits of federation. But enough of politics and on to the music. Breathtaking in scope, remarkable for its genre-sneering but sadly deleted, this criminally good record makes pretenders of every other band then residing in Shepparton, while the album's lyrics (provided by Spaz and Crud C in a kind of Enigma-monks falsetto chorus) still manage to convey something of the alienating experience that is growing up in this sand-blasted, drought-stricken hernia. This special edition of "Gigantic and Pedantic" also contains the full recording of Foothpath's debut concert, held at a park in Moroopna during the summer of 2003. Fans will marvel at the elegant simplicity of the band's sound. Non-fans, undoubtedly, will hear only sprinklers.

Mead: "Yea, Finery"

DNRC22
Format: Extended Player
Released: 2003
Status: DELETED DNRC's final release for 2003 returned, fittingly, to the Middle Ages. Medieval superstar Mead, whose talents were first spotted by Davey Dreamnation whilst trolling through the Bourke St Mall in search of a new act to sign, is probably best known for his second album "The Mists of Thyme" however it's this sad and deleted release that set the stage for that astonishing tour de force. Let's face it: without "Yea, Finery" and all its faults, there could never have been a "The Mists of Thyme". And that's something for which we should all be thankful. Mead's trademark instrument, the impossibly complicated and unpronounceable Drkstixb, haunts every square yard of this melancholy affair, which hints at Clannad and Enya's "Watermark" in equal parts. Without wanting to get too specific about the qualities of the Drkstixb as an instrument, let it be said that it is eminently suitable for busking and live impromptu performances. Tracks such as "Pus 1" and "Mead's Theme", along with live favourite "Elysium", make this album a real wizard's sleeve to hear in stereo. To complement the release of the album and as an incentive to new fans, "Yea, Finery" also came with a bonus disk containing seven of Mead's early instrumental workouts, which he first made available via shoddily recorded cassette tapes. Here, in their spangling new digital context, the songs form an epic madrigal, evoking flailing skirts, handkerchiefs and harps to varying degree. However it is the final track on "Yea, Finery", the simply astonishing "Middle Aegis I-IV", that justifies the excessive cost of producing this album in the first place. Teaming up with some of the Chilean musicians with whom he once competed in the afore-mentioned Bourke St Mall, Mead pulls out all the stops on this jaw-dropper of a track, effortlessly melding mischievous pan pipes, fickle bodhran, simpering word play and tetanus-tinged harpsichord to produce an unspeakably dervish-laden ring of fire that was initially deemed unreleasable due to its sheer majesty and technical complexity. Fittingly, the Drkstixb solo that culminates in a ferocious wall of lutes produces an effect in the listener not unlike the plague itself, leaving this reviewer at least spitting in apoplexy. Bootleg copies of this album may still be purchased in the usual places, however due to a contractual dispute between DNRC and Mead, the original tracks may never be seen or heard again.

Pachinko(o): "That Way"

DNRC21
Format: Long Player
Released: 2003
Status: DELETED Anyone who's taken a texta into a public toilet cubicle and written the name of a fictitious band on the wall knows how suggestion, exclusion, elitism and superiority become powerful tools in the hands of the ignorant. Pachinko(o) was never a real band; this record does not exist; and yet, some critics, to this day, continue to maintain its status as a classic. The fact that its track listing was only ever written in texta on a telegraph pole outside the DNRC offices may lead some readers to the obvious conclusion that this band was composed of artists. And that conclusion would be right. Now, in the spirit of talking about things we don't need to even begin to worry about, let us get down to what's truly unimportant about this band and, in fact, about most music: the music itself. The sad truth is that the musical version of "That Way" cannot easily be located. Jump in a car, drive onto a freeway, roll down the window and listen up: that is the sound of Pachinko(o). Empty the contents of your bowels, then listen carefully for your own relieved silence: that, too, is the sound of Pachinko(o). Listen to the cockroach chewing on a piece of paper in the dark: that, I'm afraid, is not Pachinko(o) after all. And yet, of course it is Pachinko(o). In the spirit of all things Orientalist, this band was composed of four artists who, in homage to Robert Smith, set out to create a fictitious Japanese band, and then see where the results led them. Well, the results are nothing less than spellbinding. The mere act of waiting for the first track on this non-existant album to begin could be said to represent the moment before God began creating the (sadly-deleted) Universe. Interestingly, some listeners then reported that this moment did really last forever. Hardly surprising, but then, that was the whole point. Again, referencing the intellectuals, "That Way" is the definitive anti-war statement: brilliantly provocative, earnestly abominable and frankly the biggest load of dead air I've ever heard in my life.

The Songs: "Booked"

DNRC20
Format: Long Player
Released: 2003
Status: DELETED As far as definite articles go, The Songs may well be The. Hailing from Canada by way of the Peace Bridge, Jess & Tuckey Song give it all, y'awl on possibly their finest album in almost sixty years. You'll know each track on this erratically recorded masterstroke, from the siren-like "Copper" right through to the hillbilly-thrash "Stoke On the Water/ Plinth/ Rockford Files" medley. Perhaps best known in their native Alberta as an instrumental due who've done the rounds of the late night all you can eat scene, The Songs come well-equipped for larceny on the break-beat "Rock In My Shoe" and the frantic, yet no less hilarious "Bubble Gun". Part moonshine-addled gypsies, part toe-jam electric barnyard, "Booked" is the sound of a band finding its way through a dark alley late at night, only to find it wasn't needed at the other end. This sad and deleted monstrosity serves only too well as a plate on which to put beans, grits and othr assorted North American fare. Eat at your peril.

Pitchfork: "We Are Now Cooler"

DNRC19
Format: Long Player
Released: 2003
Status: DELETED After abandoning both their double-barreled former name (Pitchfork Media) and their lucrative online music review business, the guys and girls of Pitchfork took, to bastardise Neil Young, a turn for the middle of the road, after finding they weren't wanted in the ditch. Which wasn't so very surprising, as the band's 2001 debut, an eponymous collection of sugar-substitutes, posited them squarely in the Frente! camp. Come 2003, however, and a couple of listens to Sugar's "Beaster" E.P., Pitchfork's fortunes were on the rise, and they were suddenly straddled with buckets of indie cred, name-checking insomnia, paranoid self-reflexiveness, insecure high-hole double hurt-food and - gees, I dont know - wankery. "We Are Now Cooler" finds the Brooklyn-area-zip-code four piece careering effortlessly between hi-funk, slap-top and martini expose, leaving a trail of West Coast bands (BRMC, anyone?) eating their dirt. This record is the sound of summer ending on one side of the world, in the full knowledge that somewhere else, it's all just beginning, again. After churning through the obligatory free festival circuit and attending a compulsory photoshoot on Waterloo Bridge, Pitchfork packed their bags and headed back to their parents' commune, where they may still be found today, pondering what went wrong after the huge success of this sad(ly) deleted album.

Kentucky Barbie: "Police Woman"

DNRC18
Format: Long Player
Released: 2003
Status: DELETED Louisville, Kentucky's Barbara Ride has lived for the last 10 years in New York City. She was one of DNRC's first overseas artists, and this, her debut album, gives ten eloquent reasons for that signing, in the form of ten sweeping and majestic songs on which she is accompanied by Ten Stunts on banjo and Kelly Le Bloc on snares. Steeped in the folklore of her native state, "Police Woman" unfolds as a kind of epic opera, set against a backdrop of continuing student riots, power failures and mid-western cuisine. A former policewoman herself, Barbara (or Barbie, as she is affectionately known in the DNRC office) attended the Goulburn Police Academy as a visiting lecturer during the summer of 2003, during which time she recorded this classic album, in a farmhouse near Gunning. Sparse, beautifully melodic and brimming with snippets of longer narratives, nutrition, chemistry and history, this staggering achievement was followed by her equally heart-breaking sophomore album, 2004's "Spellbind". It was "Police Woman", this sadly-deleted album's title track, however, that cemented Barbie's place in the lexicon of DNRC superstars, with its plaintive refrain: "I enjoy museums, parks, restaurants, galleries, camping, canoeing and the noises of nature."

Seethe: "Stung By a Bee"

DNRC17
Format: Long Player
Released: 2003
Status: DELETED Scaramouche's all time favourite band paid Stung a posthumou(rou)s compliment by name-checking him in the title of what will hopefully be remembered as their "difficult" third album. Of course, the banal industry discourse surrounding difficult third albums fails to acknowledge that for most bands, every album is difficult. In fact, the "difficult third album" syndrome only ever comes into play when the first two haven't been universally condemned as crimes against humanity. And so, we come to Seethe. On their debut, 1999's "Images of the Ocean Seething", Seethe tempted fate by assembling a long list of favourite songs, covering them, then calling the remixed results "seethe-hop". An impeccable blend of cricket-beats, animoid drones and schlock-stick, this double record was hailed upon its release as seamless art, worthy of further epithets including great, breathtaking, sublime, stunning, gorgeous, epic, spellbinding, incendiary and (of course) seething. 2001's follow-up, the commercially oriented "I Can Seethe the Sun", featured a more tripped-back sound, while also demonstrating a straight-edge restraint, as shown by the fact that rather than record "songs", the band chose instead to "song" records, creating glacial soundscapes from needles hitting various grooves. Universally misunderstood, the album's notoriety was only increased by Seethe's refusal to tour, leading to speculation that they did not actually exist, a situation further compounded by the fact that even the staff at DNRC had never seen all band members together in one room. Things came to a head with the release of their afore-mentioned difficult third industrial nose-bleeding album "Stung By a Bee" in 2003, which was itself the cobbling together of two Japanese-import only EPs, "Seethe Live At Budokan" and "Budokan Seethe at Live". Critics immediately criticised the LP for its omission of stand-out tracks "Seethe In the House" and the epic stonewaller "Dirty Dishes". Condemnation by fans duly followed, leading to a vigorous trade in illegal bootlegs of both the EPs. Commercial failure was the logical result and Seethe, while sadly deleted, still hope to follow up their "difficult" third album with a fourth rumoured to be "technically undoable".

The Guide Ponies: "Pony Stories"

DNRC16
Format: Cassingle
Released: 2003
Status: DELETED At the end of 2003, knowing full well that DNRC's finances were, like Walt Disney's head, in a state of perpetual suspended animation, and knowing also that the ability of small horses to sing and/or play instruments has never been proven or observed in the wild, Davey Dreamnation (in his usual dogmatic fashion) went ahead and signed The Guide Ponies as a rostered act, hoping to recoup some of the expenses larded out to help The Various Journals produce their basket case of an album. This appalling cassingle release failed to sell anywhere, even in the Thai market, despite the kitsch cover artwork, the song's obvious allusions to Christmas and a film clip rumoured to have been shot on a budget consisting of a magnifying glass and two packets of Tic-Tacs. Thankfully deleted the moment its panic-attack inducing vomitalia and crass exploitation of animals became the subject of an expose on Media Watch, "Pony Stories" has attained a kind of cult status recently, having been covered by The Toilet Cleaners on their abysmal comeback album, "Into The Bleach".

Cried: "Whatever & Ever"

DNRC14 Format: Long Player Released: 2003 Status: DELETED Cynics may cry "Amen" however, while it's certainly true that you'd be pretty hard-pressed to find anything sadder than the lead singer of The Weather undertaking a tour of Micronesia ten days after the band fizzled out like luke-warm piss floating down an alleyway behind the Tribesco Social Club, the story behind this album, from Melbourne's own Cried, must surely take the banana. Cried were the poster boys of the early twenty-first century. They emerged from the collective unconscious of our fin de siecle and painted daffodils, penguins and roses on their twenty-first century EPs. Cried looked better, sounded better and emoted better than any other band, prior or since. I recall my first experience of a Cried show, I think it was down at the TSC, way back when local bands could fill out local venues with a crowd full of locals, singing songs about local issues like the closure of the local pool, and its assumed effect upon the great (now) unwashed. The band were in top form that night, welding industrial aesthetics with a Marconi-era love of bling-bong, astounding the audience with a set that constituted not so much a cry for help as a funeral notice. Their insistence on spartan arrangements and whispered vocals endeared them to the Gothic crowd but in reality their natural audience was a future, non-existant one. Nowhere was this more apparent than on their DNRC debut, "Whatever & Ever", a collection of dirges so tragic the label forced the band to re-record the title track and first single "Lamb/Slaughter". Drawing heavily on the tired misery of Nick Cave, lead singer Tom Mutser sounds acerbicly driven on most cuts featured here, although he does find a shred of sensuality during the bleak coda of "Sydney Awe (The Bush)": "I saw a sheep kill itself against a fencepost/ then watched as the farmer dissected the carcass/after that day I never ate meat again /i never did like the word 'mutton' anyway". Sadly deleted, this album lives on in the minds of all who were there the night Mutser announced his own death on stage. His disappearance remains one of the most tragic (and unresolved) mysteries in the history of DNRC.

Weather: "Ragged Isobars"

DNRC13 Format: Extended Player Released: 2003 Status: DELETED Back in 2003, "The" Weather were still called Weather, Vanity Fair didn't have a UK tacked onto the end of them and The Lord still sucked the big one. Weather are further proof (in any was needed) of the truth of the old theory, that is: the EP was great but the album makes the listener feel like drinking paint stripper. Weather started off as a freewheeling, psychedelic, dual guitar and dub influenced sixties sounding stoner epic outfit. Then they released "Between Stations", changed their name to "The Weather" and began hitting up the middle of the road (in no particular order). Their first EPs, however (all released on DNRC but now, sadly, deleted), showcased a different band entirely. "Ragged Isobars" was released as a single but because of its length (both it and the b side, "Mechanical Island" clocked in at over ten minutes) should really be considered an EP. Their debut release, this EP was perhaps Weather's weirdest release, a spacey odyssey featuring some excellent guitar noodling, cavernous vocal echoes and a drum beat so slow it was probably on smack at the time. It captured the sound of a band that seemed to have no idea what was going on in the world around them. It's a real shame, then, that The Weather went on to become such poseurs. Don't even talk to me about the Phillip Brezhnev solo experience.

Clint Bo Dean: "Private Poet"

DNRC12 Format: Picture Disk Released: 2003 Status: DELETED One of DNRC's worst-kept secrets (not to mention its worst made-up face) is the running gag known as Clint Bo Dean. Bo Dean, whose hilarious website could do with an update or three thousand, is a real muso's muso, refusing to release recorded tracks in any format (hence this rare 1980s style picture disk, featuring an interview with Stung and a couple of shots of Clint blowing his nose), and only performing live when he is drunk enough to chuck. CBD, as he is known to his legionnaires, encapsulates all things poetic here, as he tackles the only song he's ever really understood: Tina Turner's "Private Dancer", managing to fuse the spirit of Bachman Turner Overdrive with that of Michael J Fox as he appeared in The Secret of My Success. Bold, brassy and quite posisbly bonkers, Clint Bo Dean is every hair stylist's nightmare. And that includes you, Brian.

The Lord: "S Prayer"

DNRC11 Format: 7" single Released: 2003 Status: DELETED Not to be confused with the US band of the same name, or indeed with the lead singer of Christianity, The Lord were essentially a novelty act, with two basic signature styles: the up-front, in your face, anatomically explicit style, as witnessed here on "S Prayer", a puerile song about toilet plumbing; and the other style, which they were thankfully never able to express publicly, having been dropped from DNRC soon after this release of this now-deleted piece of toejam.

Fuzz Charge: "Ah, The Mighty Fuzz Charge!"

DNRC10 Format: 7" single Released: 2003 Status: DELETED The name says it all, really, and perhaps that's just what Felix and his Fuzz Chargers intended all along. Consisting of three minutes of near-silence, this epic statement of anti-corporate experimentalism, though sadly deleted, can easily be reproduced by putting some ice in a blender and then moving to the next room. Recalling the insanity of Wire's "Drill" period, the b-side, a cover of Cruns' "We Are The Cruns" does it all over again, except this time it sounds like you're in the next building. As uncompromising as all the other DNRC bands, Fuzz Charge would go on to dabble in surftronica, harmonithrash and chantrock (move over, Enigma monks) before changing their name to Somewhere Between Eighth and Ninth. And the rest, as they say, is another story. Fuzz Charge's greatest hits album, the sardonically titled "Bargain Bin", can be found in the usual places.

Girt By Sea: "Trawler"

DNRC09 Format: Extended Player Released: 2003 Status: DELETED Post-hard outfit Girt By Sea generated huge amounts of press and industry goodwill with their first single, "Jeopardy" but sadly initial expectations would not be fulfilled, as shown by this turgid E.P. recorded in the summer of 2002/03. The drums on opening track "Catch" in particular sound as if they were recorded in 1977, on an island off the coast of Spain. Hollow guitar effects and woefully chorused vocals (witness the title track's refrain: "i am a trawler/ a crawling trawler/ treading water/ soda snorter") cap off what could, in the hands of a more able producer, have become a stepping stone to real credibility. Sadly, this deleted release was GBS's last, and knob-twiddler On da Levelle should bear at least some responsibility, for his ham-fisted efforts behind the mixing desk. The real culprits here, though, are the members of GBS themselves, who reportedly spent their whole advance from DNRC (the princely sum of $500) on photographing a trawler for the cover artwork.