GUERILLA TOSS - "My Real Dad: Live in Nappa"

A slice of purgatory from the slimiest band in Boston! Guerilla Toss is a 5-piece slopmath group serving up two 10-minute scoops of precision freak-out. Electronic drums and a mean synthesizer; a driving bass and a ravaged guitar; Kassie Carlson's heart-squashing she-beast vocals--somehow stacked as by an evil architect, to build an unlikely cathedral out of the ugliest bones. This is a band you have to see to believe. Expect to be hearing a lot more from them in the soon-future, including an LP from everyone's favorite Feeding Tube Records. C21, edition of 200, $5+shipping.

SOLD OUT :-0 sorry!

CHRIS WEISMAN - "Bentonia" C47

Announcing the 16th solo weird pop album from Brattleboro's weird-pop guru Chris Weisman: BENTONIA is Chris's exploration of Skip James's eerie enchanting "Bentonian" tuning. 18 beautiful but disconcerting ballads, stuffed full of the disjointed Mad-Lib-esque metaphors and the biting, outsider's critique-of-everyone-including-himself lyrics you may remember from such C.W. masterpieces as Beatleboro and Fresh Sip. Chris Weisman is the real deal living legend subterranean mover and shaker, teaching the rest of us what pop music can still do. This is one to keep under your pillow. C47, edition of 150, $5+shipping.

SPIKED PUNCH - "Chill Out And Eat a Mango" C30

Somewhere in beach culture stretches a long finger of dirty blonde sand, where an entire day can yawn out unmoving, your nose-skin pale with salt, your eyes white and getting whiter. The purplish odor of baked seaweed spirals with the smells of food in a cart and the buzz of a biplane trailing a holiday greeting in red capitals. Parked between the mentholated lot lizards and the coconut-bra teengirls you meet Austin TX's SPIKED PUNCH in the back of a stationwagon. Their songs are spare and friendly, sung with the sounding-drone of an islander. Heavy with the musk of surf wax, crinkle fries, and the guitar wizards of the Golden Triangle. Discover 7 surf-space-reggae-pop jams to make you feel like driving your woody across the Pacific Ocean to the top of a volcano. C30, ltd. 100, $5+shipping.

SPIKED PUNCH by SPKY TWN

GREAT VALLEY / HAPPY JAWBONE - "Permanent Christmas" 7"

Everybody's favorite Pretend Pop junk bands are back to SAVE CHRISTMAS! GREAT VALLEY & HAPPY JAWBONE have been working like elves around the clock on a pair of Holiday "singles" that will melt your heart. That Christmas Spirit! the one who tickles you awake at night and stuffs you full of joy like an empty sock! That Martian Santa! who leaves crop circles somehow around your chimney! These are not Holiday covers but rather Original Christmas Songs soon to be added to earth's wonderful Christmas canon! The greatest black wax Christmas gift in- or out-of-season! Ltd. 150 copies with hand-colored covers, co-released with FEEDING TUBE RECORDS. $6+shipping!

Choose

U.S.A. $8.00 USD Can/Mex $9.00 USD International $10.00 USD

HAPPY JAWBONE - "A Happy Jawbone Family XMas Gift to You, 2011. Vol. 1: Operation Ho! Ho! Ho!" C50

You should have seen the Happy Jawbone Family Band on October 1st, when they pulled every box from their attic and hung colored lights from the ceilings and hid a Santa Claus figurine at the back of every drawer! They pounded their guitars like elves hammering toys together around the clock in order to bring this very special Christmas tape to you! The Jawbones' signature recombination of surrealist jukebox rock, sound collage joy, and radio-comedy playfulness--! Wrapped like a bucket of tinsel in red and green glowsticks. Fits exactly like a glove in your gramamma's stocking sock!! C50, Edition of 75, $5+shipping.

SOLD OUT!! BUY THE LP FROM FEEDING TUBE !! HO HO HO

WISDOM TOOTH - "The Flying Mouth" C38

The second full-blown installment of John Andrews' Wisdom Tooth trilogy visits the ongoing dance of the Flying Mouth--a lovely pair of lips with such a talent for crooning that a gang of jealous riflemen pursue her everywhere. The whole yarn recreated for an off-off-off Broadway rock opera with an elementary school teacher pawing at the upright, the actors pancaked, missing teeth, and joined at the hands to exalt their heroine on a shabby budget. Here amongst the trunks of cold cream, crinoline and prop fans, you hear the voices of people with dignity and babies with summer birthdays being baptized. Those gentle honky-tonking piano phrases, each one with a little bell on its toe! Those wide-yawning glitter guitars! Here vaudeville cradles Rock n Roll like a dinosaur cradles a caveman. There are waltzes; there are familiar and neighborly small-town swamp-dwellers like Old Scratch, and the sleepy machinery of a torch-lit production that could only be executed by the fondest of amateurs. Edition of 100, $5+shipping.

WISDOM TOOTH - Quitting the Circus by SPKY TWN

GREAT VALLEY - "Holiday, Holinight" C20

Recorded in 2010, HOLIDAY/HOLINIGHT reveals, like an X-ray, how Great Valley un-bowed their land legs and first pushed off towards the sea. Five sparkling theme songs amble in sequence like a hand-cranked animated scroll, the protagonists boy shadows. "Born Again" warbles beneath the waves of a cramped coastal fairyland; "Lucky Me" is the boardwalk funhouse wriggling with ghosts. Part two's "My House" sounds as if the lamps and pots of your cottage are being tunefully tapped with a coffee table leg, and someone in the kitchen is sweetly bowing at the cookie sheet. "Under Beach" is the soft but thrilling chin-peck of un-certain doom, and "Wishwell" is the preemptive dirge. The far-from-home shivers constantly rattle and burble in the septics of the young men that helm this story, their naive bindle staffs boasting only ham sandwiches, an envelope of sour belts, and a tin of Vicks to remember mother by. In the wet, outstretched palm of every leering crone waits a suspect bonbon; nearby huddles a grizzled cast of wingnuts whose psychosis yawns 10 feet wide. Although the hot breath of the organ setting rasps menacingly in the background, it is a tale where glittering caches pine for our heroes in back corners and drawers, and a dappled pony is supplied for every getaway. Edition of 100, $5+shipping.

SOLD OUT

BLOOD BEACH - "Blood Beach" C23

The debut EP from Portland OR's Blood Beach. Imagine your big brother's garage band rehearsing the score to a horror movie you haven't seen yet. Driving low-end machinations and overdriven guitars, devilishly complimented by Shane's evil drawl and Camella's spooky, ghosts-at-a-party theremin. This tape is sure to get the teenage werewolf howling inside you. Oh yes! Edition of 100, $5+shipping.

BLOOD BEACH - Rick Roll Shop by SPKY TWN

SPKY TWN NEEDS YOUR HELP TO SAVE CHRISTMAS

Help us deliver the Christmas Songs to the people's stockings! Visit our kickstarter project. Even though we already reached our funding goal thanks to a mysterious benefactor (THANKS!), you can still pre-order the HAPPY JAWBONE / GREAT VALLEY 7" XMAS PARTY using the kickstarter pledge. Actually it might not be a bad idea since these are going to disappear really fast like the smoke after fireworks.

NUDE SUNRISE - "Should Be" C62

4 spacemen on an earth mission: Chicago's Nude Sunrise spins psych-kraut jammers that wrap around the globe and off to the moon. Jeff says:

As D. Boon once put it, “American trash can really ruin a good time,” but it’s just the opposite with Nude Sunrise. Here we have two dudes playing absolutely disgusting-sounding junk guitar juke-joint riffs/wah-wah jah-jah/100% fucked noise solos; a guy described by his own bandmates as “not really a drummer” bashing out lurching, drooling-dumb rhythms on a pretty awful kit; a skinny nerd playing “My Girl” on keyboard bass. Pretty much my favorite new band, Nude Sunrise play classic American trash and it is a really, really good time. The Chicago quartet cut to the chase of rock n’ roll and steal with shameless impunity, ripping off Neil Young lyrics and Motown basslines. The spoils of their thievery are merely templates though: they take the money and run with it as it were, building 6+ minute trash jams on the pilfered property. Everything’s pretty blurry and scuzzy, but it’s high time bands started milking Chrome again, and I’m all for it. Pat Steadman, the Shaggy Doo-looking guitar player, lets his glasses slip all the way down the bridge of his nose and contributes some kool-stoner vocals that really put the whole thing over the top. ... This band makes me feel stoked and gross at the same time.

Edition of 200, $5+shipping.