When the weather is to dance, then it is very good to be in the disco now. Many trips to the floor to dance, but there is one that is so nice to be in motion. Very sexy is just for music. But it is for you to be sexy and even then it is so good. You are good to be here and that much heat. Wow! And everything for the party, and so sex yourself in this way. MANGIA BELLA!

I Want Sex

The dead stay dead. They stay buried in the ground. They don’t come back again. They don’t walk around. The dead stay dead. They don’t have anything to say. They won’t give you a phone call. They won’t come out to play. The dead stay dead. They don’t have any friends. They don’t ever socialize. They stay alone until the end. The dead stay dead. They don’t haunt your home. The furniture is too heavy. They just leave it alone.

The Dead Stay Dead

Available now on the compilation, 20 DEAD JAZZ GREATS!
https://bloodntongue.bandcamp.com/album/20-dead-jazz-greats

The world needs some shitty jazz. I’m not talking about plain old “bad” jazz. No, this is a kind of jazz that revels in its own incompetence. It’s not some self-indulgent music geek jamming reams of solos of overly technical noodling. That would require at least some ability. What I’m talking about is something that requires no more than the most rudimentary skills and, even at that, you could probably get away with less. That’s why it was necessary to create “Dead Jazz”. It’s a kind of sound that doesn’t really care where it comes from or where it’s going. Most of the time, it’s too lazy to be bothered with direction or purpose. It might fall flat on its face after a few faltering steps or maybe it’ll stagger around indefinitely until someone throws it out the door to wander the streets. 

The term “Dead Jazz” was first coined in 1986 as a song title for a piece that was essentially a bit of strange noodling with a sort of “jazzy” vibe about it. It sounded sick and unhealthy, so the title was an obvious conclusion. The term remained dormant for many years until 2001 during a period where many old analogue recordings were being digitally remastered and collated into organized collections. At that time, the term found itself being applied to one of those collections. A few years later and something of a breakthrough in recording occurred in 2007. A new approach and style combined with the latest available digital technology to make it possible to create a sound that was both natural and primitive and sophisticated at the same time - loose in its structure and arrangements, but refined in production values. The sound that resulted could only be described as “Dead Jazz” and, since then, this concept has been gradually expanded upon. As the elements became more codified, a backward glance though the years revealed that there has always been a thread running through the various phases of production where these elements became a focus, even if only for a brief time. 

Presented here is something of a history of Dead Jazz. Beginning with one of the earliest recordings from 1981, a foreshadowing of things to come, you are presented with a chronological journey through the various stages of the style as new wrinkles were added and crushed into the fabric. These pieces are about improvisation and inspiration. They aren’t conceived through agonizing contemplation. Their ideas spring forth abruptly and their execution is immediate. Threads are left bare and hanging, fumbles are pushed up front and featured. You probably want to get wasted for this. It usually helps.


Cock Suckin' Blues

Mr. Fist likes to make music. Mr. Fist likes to make creepy music, assembling sounds and words that ferment together into a bubbling broth of hallucinogenic mayhem. He’s been stirring this pot of perversion for over 30 years, so you can be certain that this potion is potent enough to unhinge the most stalwart of minds. Once this door is open, you’ll be ushered into a weird, wild world populated by a motley assortment of questionable characters in peculiar places. This is a place where the mundane becomes mutated and the dross is delivered unto the heavens because Mr. Fist knows how easy it is to get stains on white.

Mr. Fist

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