Dome Records’ flagship album in 1966 Teenbeat A Go Go from Baltimore that’s not all that made the label a powerhouse of the 1960s. Dome and its subsidiary Wedge have also released some bizarre singles containing lo-fi outsider sounds that have devastated the confines of the conventional without losing any of their charm. Neanderthal of early rock.

“The Devil’s Twist” b / w “Wandering Guy” by Art Killmer and The Up-Town Four (early 1960s): When my old pal Towson-Glen Arm artist David Richardson first heard the face From that record he exclaimed, “Wow! Sounds like Tav Falco’s Panther Burns. David was not far away. The song’s disturbing subject matter, the hypnotic piano chords, the stripped-down drums and the echo. cavernous freeze to prove once again that ‘psychobilly’ was created long before Kristy Wallace and Erick Purkhiser became Ivy Rorschach and Lux ​​Interior. Just like Hasil Adkins, Jackie Morningstar, Tarantula Ghoul, Bob Vidone, Randy Luck and d Others, Art Killmer was a 1950s / early 60s rocker who caught a bad case of monster mania after the success of “The Purple People Eater” and other supernatural hits. The artist offers a unique approach. horror rock by randomly mixing references to bibliographic terrors ues and the apocalypse with more secular topics on creatures.

The B-side follows an unfortunate pattern present in most Dome singles as it contains a bland country tune. “The Devil’s Twist” is a precursor to the buzzing misanthropy of the Swans, Flipper, No Trend and other noise-punk pagans of the 1980s. Without a single heavy, distorted guitar note, this recording makes all of these bands weak. The lyrics reveal detailed descriptions of Armageddon, Hell, and Satanic torture. It’s as if the lyrics to Chuck Berry’s equally nightmarish “Downbound Train” had been rewritten for the Atom Age by Dante Alighieri. Pulsating timpani evoke demonic thunder as Killmer recites his terrifying proclamations in the muffled rumble of a wounded soul about to be devoured alive.

The Joey Charles Drums / Ralph Johnson split 7 ”(1966): Few details have been revealed regarding the past of Dome Records mainstay, Joey Charles (aka Joseph Gross), but there is no doubt that it was his most important moment. crazy. The instrumental take of his track “The Rub” was the dissonant grand finale for Teenbeat A Go Go from Baltimore. As if that wasn’t enough, an even crazier vocal version of the cut was released as a single with hilarious and absurd lyrics (a sleepy country melody by Ralph Johnson lurks on the flip). Charles wrote “The Rub” and played drums on it while the vocals were handled by a group of young girls called The Delighters. With strong influences from The Orlons and Little Eva, these soulful moppets drop instructions for a ridiculous dance craze that never took off: and you rub your stomach and strut like a great ape / You start to shake. head to toe when Joey Charles starts playing with his sloppy rhythm!

“Little Sandy” b / w “Den Of Thieves” by The Septors: The mid-Atlantic rock-downer version of The Shaggs was this mysterious band. Their gigs in the Baltimore area and the release of this awesome double-sided garment spilled a lot of ink via classifieds in the Baltimore. American-Newsof the “Your World” supplement. Either way, the identity of the Septors remains unclear. Even the most primitive cuts of Teen Beat A Go Go from Baltimore cannot compare to the brutal anti-musicianship possessed by this chaotic combo. Out of tune high guitars, a dissonant saxophone, barely audible drums barely played in time, repetitive arrangements and a “loser” feel make this 7 “one of the darkest and darkest DelMarVa garage records. sad. “Den Of Thieves” is particularly outraged; its arrangement sounds as if it had been composed on the spot. The spare tom-tom beats give the song a bohemian / proto-no-wave feel, even though the members of the group were probably preppy nerds wearing three-piece costumes when they moaned their beautifully awkward hymns.

“Diamond Coated Banana Bush” b / w “Nickels & Dimes” by Jimmy White With The Relations (1967): This unknown aggregate’s lone record sports yet another dull pop B-side while the Upper Deck rules the galaxy with a drunk noise rock jam. “Diamond Coated Banana Bush” was one of the last singles from Dome Records (possibly the label’s last 7). There is hardly any information regarding its release. Rough distortion guitar and bashing drums imply The Who, Small Faces, Kinks, etc. must have influenced The Relations’ equipment choices. Its fried song title, Donald Duck-ish screams, free jazz trumpet blasts, and funky beats derail all straight rock aspirations. The breathtaking joy of the genre of this song has earned it two reissues via records that explore the opposing realms of 1960s culture—The Psychedelic To live flight. 3 (a collection of various Swedish Mystic Records artists, co-created and partially compiled by DIY music expert / psychedelic theorist Patrick Lundborg) and Party Party Party, a wacky frat rock anthology. “Diamond Coated Banana Bush” proves that sometimes alcohol can be a psychedelic drug that makes the mind grow.