TIMO I Must Be Right 7" (KAW) KAW has been releasing tapes for about 10 years now, this lathe cut 7" in a limited edition of 100 is the first non-cassette release on the label, and is also the first non-cassette release for Timo. This EP shows two sides of Timo's music. Two of the tracks reveal the harsher side of Timo; heavy music with angry vocals and lyrics. "I never voted for your laws ... don't you take away my gun", he snarls on I Must Be Right. Welcome To Hell is full of hatred and threats of violence, and he sounds like he means it too. Red Planet is the more restrained Timo, the side of him I've always found hard to pigeonhole - this isn't strictly pop, rock or folk, just melodic music. (Review by Kim Harten/Aquamarine zine) TIMO I Must Be Right 7" (KAW) Timo is the greatest person EVER hmmmoooops ought to declare an interest, Timo’s thanked us on the reverse cover of his 7” – and that kinda thing ALWAYS prejudices us in the defendant’s favour, but hang on, here’s Timo’s press release, hope Timo doesn’t mind us reprinting it, but it says more than two million pages of DDDD/NL ever could, so it’ll save a lot of space/time: “Maybe it’s all the sensory overload today that assaults us every moment that is responsible for the death of music. I can remember how 20 years ago when we didn’t have much TV and radio was boring and bars were dark evil unfriendly places that seemed to cater for miserable old men who didn’t like music, when there really was no place to go, and yet it was then that a good friend and I would often fill up our Saturday and Sunday afternoons smoking dope and listening to his extensive album collection and really TALKING about music. All kinds of music. We were in a world of our own. And today music seems to be nothing but a loud irritant splashed at us from everywhere all at once – insipid shit backing every television show, bleeding out of crappy speakers in stores, blaring from every corner of every shit pub often with a telly on somewhere at the same time. Music now is never HEARD, it’s just sort of tolerated. Every fucking band in every fucking club is some kind of clone, or a pre-packaged spectacle of whatever the current standard of ‘popular’ music is supposed to be. It’s all so lame. I haven’t seen any music in years that was presented as real musicianship or real songwriting. It’s always presented now as over-loud fashion statement of some kind. Blokey Blokes blast boom-boom music from stereos louder than my amp in cars the size of bathtubs. Buskers flog plywood guitars singing cardboard songs to hollow souls. We are constantly told by the music press just what we are to listen to (and act like) if we know what’s good for us. These days it’s all about GOING places and DOING things, it’s like football crowd mentality or how fucked up can you get as fast as possible to prove you’re still cool. Nobody listens to music anymore, and because of that nobody PLAYS music anymore. I’m nobody because my music doesn’t come thundering out of a 300 watt Marshall amp with eleven different effects boxes all on at once while I strike poses and scream my lungs out. Oh I CAN do that, and in the past I HAVE done that, but more importantly I want to be the real me, not some deranged puppet for amusement. But that’s all people want now. Music is no longer meant to inspire thought or emotion, it’s meant only as accompaniment to loutish behaviour. It’s the soundtrack to modern stupidity. It covers the sound of your farts. I sit here completely skint, I can’t even feed or clothe myself properly anymore. I’m not allowed to play my guitar because I’m too poor to be able to live by myself. I have no friends because I have no money. I am unwanted and unimportant. And I see my old guitar there across the room while the newsman tells me what a hero George Harrison was and I think to myself, the fucking bastard – when he was my age he was fucking rich and I’m a better musician and songwriter than him. But here I am hungry, cold and wishing I was alone so I could play some songs just for myself. What the fuck happened? About 20 years ago I was living on the road, going nowhere but at least I had my music – or maybe it’s better to say that the world had a place for my music. But not anymore. And the sad part is that I’m better now than I ever was back then. But here I sit with no hope, no future, and a lost past. I have no friends, no home, and no money but worst of all I have no music anymore. It’s still inside of me but I’m not allowed to do it. And then some prat chucks a shitty old acoustic guitar with four strings and a bent neck at me and says “Here – play us somethin’”. And you know I can’t. TIMO” Isn’t that brilliant!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Shit it’s suddenly left me with nothing to say, I’m so breathless, but that’s not gonna stop me saying something – get the what-it-sounds-like bit out the way right now, there’s 3 tracks, one is like a lovely acousticky early Tim Buckley affair, another is like if the Dead Kennedys had recorded something inside a hollow golf ball, and the third is a skuzzer with the giant gtr, like everything’s in a huge hot landscape with a vast sky over this flat land and the possibilities are 360 degrees and all the cracks inbetween too, you can go anywhere with this stuff in yr head, you really can, so good, even friends and money can seem unnecessary when yr high like that, you’ll only know how this world is and can be when yr starting to lose yr youth and you see how it could’ve been and still can be if yr quick – speed is essential – I prefer booze – but now nothing like that makes me euphoric, just poetry and the lives of eccentrics and knowing that maybe there’s others besides me and Timo (and you?) who resonate with those words above – Timo’s so right, today everyone’s gotta pretend to be a lout, pretend to be stupid (usually not so much ‘pretend’ about it), make a lot of noise, be wacky, be phoney, lots of smug rich kids pretending to be poor – fuck em, it’s US who matter, the ones who’re so ‘real’ we don’t even need to carve ‘4 REAL’ into our arm – the ones who LIVE this life and who’re gonna DIE it too cos we can’t escape, we have more talent than those who’re ‘successful’ but shit some of the rules just don’t appeal to us so we die and drink and get angry – drink and anger and scruffiness and poverty are the shit that makes the beautifullest flowers grow, it’s true – fuck Ian McEwan and Jeanette Winterson and all the other precious pedantic slow twats who can’t do anything without half-thinking of what effect it’s gonna have on other people, never mind, people are tireder than tired of their shit while they’re alive, they’ll be deader than dead before they die, and meanwhile the greats like Timo (and us) (and you?) know the secrets of their lives and their own lives, maybe without even realising, usually so, always so, maybe sometimes, usually always, I wish it was otherwise, but knowing this stuff makes me the person I am and I’ve never wanted to be anyone else, and that’s a fact, and I’m glad Timo is who he is too. (From New Luddism/DDDD zine) TIMO – “I MUST BE RIGHT” 7” (Kaw) OK, I’ve listened to it three times already –trying to decide what to make of it (trying to see if repeated listens might bring to mind a good word to say about it!) – fourth time around, here goes, I’m just gonna spew it out. The title track sounds like a pretty flat, weak attempt at some kind of cross between Dead Kennedy’s and God Bullies (maybe the lathe pressing has killed the sound a but, but it’s clear enough to my ears that this wouldn’t be up to much anyhow). On side B, I would swear ‘Red Planet’ is sung by Michael Stipe the morning after a heavy night on the hooch – pretty fuckin’ miserable. ‘Welcome To Hell’ finished off in typically poor style – sounds like my grandad trying to be a 1980’s Butthole Surfer. All of this has been done many times and much, much better long long ago. (Review by Paul Harrison) TIMO I once asked Timo what his music was born of. He said, “Cheap guitars, crap microphones, and battered out-of-date equipment.” Then I asked him where his lyrics came from. He said, “Cheap booze, crap life, and battered out-of-date songwriting.” Fucking brilliant. His music can be beautiful at times or haunting, bordering on dark psychosis. One is never quite sure if Timo is singing to you or at you, if you stand as a friend or foe. God help you if it’s the latter. You enter his music never expecting to find this depth in such stark arrangements. Like a spare room with only a wooden chair, a bottle of whiskey, and a window overlooking the public gallows. This latest release from The Man With A Name is a musical landscape sparsely populated… a guitar here, maybe a little bit of keyboard in the distance, an unobtrusive bass line seen occasionally on the horizon... and a dangerous naked lunatic standing just behind you muttering in your ear. Run for God’s sake, run and don’t look back! – (Finndisc Zine) TIMO He writes songs. He tells tales. He plays instruments. I mean he actually PLAYS instruments. He doesn’t pound, poke, whang or torture things – he PLAYS them with none of the show-off pretensions or twee sincerity so usual in underground music. What you get with Timo is audibly visual instrumentation wrapped around tales of life, love, loneliness and, ultimately, death. Easy laid back rhythm guitar with almost a sense of having done time in smoky jazz clubs and then suddenly… lead guitar like rusty nails and a voice like a corpse. – (Hymie Gestapo, DJ) TIMO-#199/”QUIET SONGS” 45 minutes of quiet songs with mainly just the voice and guitar-twang-pick delight and the gollomy voice of Timo. There’s birdsong, it’s all very like very early Peter Hammill doing his pretty stuff. On the other side. 45 minutes of #199 which we’ve heard/reviewed before. This isn’t so good, mainly because Timo goes all wacky/zany too often, also too tuneless, his voice by this time seems bereft though it all has its moments, but no, sorry, heart not in this side of the tape. Immerse me in the trappings of a man of the world. End. (From Dddd fanzine) TIMO – VARIOUS TRACKS AND THINGS And Timo does some okay things here, proper (?) old-fashioned (??????) songs with the tune and beats and him singing and reversing carefully and reminding me of Warren Zevon or an American take on early semi-simple/semi-complex Peter Hammill. Always the music is unpretentious. When he speeds up he can sound a bit like poppy Bill Nelson. You cannot upbraid him and he always remains his own man. A nice relaxed guitar. Star track is also (maybe) the simplest (but that is always the way) and it’s called ‘The Dead Guy’. This is the kinda rock/pop that always gets ignored by the personalised cheque-books ‘cause it’s untrendy and un-shit, and these are tracks taken from Timo’s stuff on various labels. (From Dddd fanzine) TIMO The rollercoaster of life seems to be going up finally for this unique and sometimes angry songwriter. He is probably also the very best accompanying guitarist in the home taping tent. Great words,as always. (Lonely Whistle) TIMO It Was More Than Communication We Lacked I could tell from the title of this cassette that the music contained on it wasn’t going to be the most cheerful…a quick glance at the song titles only confirmed my prediction: “Dark Days”, “Confessions of a Killer”, “Covered in Ice”, “Bullets and Maalox”, etc. There’s a fine line between melancholy and melodrama, and Timo has both feet planted on it, as he ruminates on dissolved relationships, fading youth, and vengeful longings. He seems incapable of writing a song in a major key. The songs are quite spare, driven by drum machines and electric guitars; might I add, Timo is an excellent guitar player, and layers almost every song with delicious blues-based solos. Could Timo be the Eric Clapton of cassette culture? Maybe. Timo has a full-bodied, ponderous voice that sounds like William Shatner if 1) William could carry a tune, and 2) inhaled helium once in a while. (It doesn’t sound nearly as bad as I’m making it sound.) Sometimes, when listening to this cassette, I want to grab him and say, “Cheer up! Turn that frown upside down! There’s no way life could be this bad!” Then, a song like “I’ll Kill You” arrives, when Timo’s muttering of title phrase is filled with so much anger, desperation, and resignation that I can’t help but feel chills down my spine. Timo is also good at using his spare instrumentation for dramatic effect. The first song, “Yesterday, Today” uses a ticking clock prominently to underscore his lyrics about feeling defeated in old age. The otherwise molasses-slow “Bullets and Maalox” incorporates a few fast, second-long drum breaks to inspire a feeling of anxiety in the listener not unlike the anxiety the song describes. This is not something I would listen to often, mainly because I’m actually pretty content with my life, but it’s obviously well-done. 7/10 (Speeder fanzine) TIMO/FRANK PECK “20 GOLDEN GREATS” What an interesting match-up between Frank Peck (aka Mark Ritchie) and Timo. It’s like chocolate and sauerkraut, completely different tastes, smells and textures, but a person could like both. Ritchie’s side of the album is some of the most beautiful music I’ve ever heard. Incredibly moving and depressing (I mean that in the good way!), the songs are all amazing. So well-written and delivered, it makes me want to give him a hug to make him feel better. Flip the tape over to hear Timo coughing and hacking up phlegm in the middle of a song. Intentional? Who knows. Hilarious? Hell yes! Bronchitis aside, the Timo stuff is interesting, but in a different way. By the way, are you allowed to start a song, stop and then start over for no apparent reason? I just wondered. Side two is mostly some dude trying to be creepy and psychotic and a little silly and succeeding. I hope I don’t have nightmares now. Seriously. (From AutoReverse fanzine) TIMO/FRANK PECK “20 GOLDEN GREATS” Half hour each from these probers of the lonely bedsit guitar and thwarted voice. Frank gives great throat, the whine of the people who CAN complain/grumble. Tracks like ‘Dry Days’ are so lovely you wish he was rich enough to do his stuff on a posh disc. Half way through he gets gunks of stuff on his tape and fades beneath a giver of bad head, orally almost going down on nothing. As for Timo, hadn’t known what a genius-guy he was/is till I read the new Kaw ‘’’’’’press-release’’’’’’ – nah, it’s more of a mini-zine, Qs and As, Timo gives the answers that make you wanna share a few drinks with the guy -–he doesn't mumble timidly about his fave websites and give monosyllabic ansas – he just GOES FOR IT – he’s what us country-folk call a ‘character’. He does more of his Warren Zevon-ish stuff, ‘cept he uses better tunes. Thing is, Timo seems to’ve disappeared after doing this tape – he was a motor cycle courier, he had a bad smash, it fucked up his hand. There’s songs on this album about the dreadful shitty things the NHS did to him – stuffing wire coathangers up his fingers …. He can’t play guitar anymore – it was his life. On this tape he does a lovely version of Don Campau’s ‘All I’ve Got Is Music’. Timo we love you. Life is shit, yeah. It’d be better if the right people had money. One day.. (doubtful, doubtful). (From Dddd fanzine) TIMO - #199 Guy sounds American, very posh ‘n’ spicy recording set-up, many instruments, rocky songs, drum machines, but the tracks without the beats and with the passion are like the first funeral of a much-missed child, very moving. But again, here’s a guy who weakens and seems to lack the confidence to go through this life being a trillion per-cent un-wacky etc. But when this guy gives me the UN-penile lump in my throat I feel better. Loses me totally with a brief goosing of the Carpenters’ ‘Close To You’ – doesn’t he know that the Carpenters aren’t funny any more? But the moments of swoon cannot be denied or put in a pie and swallowed by a blue horse. (From Dddd fanzine) |