Mark Ritchie CAN do wrong, he just chooses not to. If there's a better, more together, more melancholic and beautiful singer-songwriter-acoustic guy out there, I don't wanna know. Because Mark's the shit, period. Frank Peck = beautiful, aching, acoustic torch songs. To infinity. (From AutoReverse fanzine)
FRANK PECK “LAST NOTES FROM HOME”
Always rare in a tape review to mention the word ‘tunes’, but that’s what Frank bequeaths to us all, a generous fella. 9 tracks well within half an hour, nibbles your earlobe with a nice instrumental made with instruments so charity-shoppy they have no known names – then 8 songs and Frank is singing about the end of his youth and the chances he shall never have again, the lovers’ tastes that will never resurface in the mouth unexpectedly in a dull morning at work and remind him of the precious times. Frank’s voice is perfect for his dismay, he strums a guitar. This album is far better and more tuneful than almost all of the ‘proper’ albums you pay 15 for this month or any month. Frank will never join Steps. He is the Michelle Shocked of Glasgow, not singing round a campfire but with the gas oven door open and inviting. Frank, babe, the advertisers want everyone over 26 to think they’re old, then we can spend the rest of our lives buying their definition of prolonged youth – me, I shall still be young at 94 – crazier than a frog on the trapeze, and happier too. (From Dddd fanzine)
FRANK PECK “YEAR OF THE RAT”
Another slam-dunk of melancholy goodness from Mark Ritchie. The guy makes it sound effortless. He sweats great sorrow-filled balladeer type shit and ‘Year Of The Rat’ is just the latest in a very long string of increasingly sharp releases. This recording is suitably lo-fi but of course the songs themselves are the star attraction. The hooks are prickly and lyrics resonate for months, years, decades. Obvious (and frequently made – by me mostly) comparisons to Mark Eitzel, Mark Kozelek and maybe a pinch of Nick Drake. Mostly Eitzel, though. I just hope that emulating Mark Eitzel doesn’t doom Mark Ritchie to a similar commercial fate. (From AutoReverse fanzine)
FRANK PECK “YEAR OF THE RAT”
Here’s a half hour of a lovely Scot sitting alone and strumming. His voice is unique and will be recognised by me forever even if I live a longish time. It’s mournful and sad but never depressing – but shit I was the kid who adored Peter Hammill and found him uplifting physically and mentally and genitally. Masses of tunes on this tape, really love it lots. All 9 songs win, but especially ‘Why I Was Born’, the despair of being God’s punchline and being cursed forever to buy drinks just to get the odd feel of Brillo pad in your face and liver on the lips and maybe end up buying all the drinks for yourself, the only sensible option. Frank holds your hand as he escorts you through the pain barrier and I emerge with my (sad but true) cliché – we hear MUCH stuff on poncey CD that’s not a patch on this music. Frank, you’re a star, how I wonder how you are. (From Dddd fanzine)
frank peck-the year of the rat (kaw) raw translation
Certain derniers irréductibles s’acharnent encore à défendre le format cassette qui subsistera tant qu’une dernière étincelle animera encore suffisament de double ou simple decks. Certain recent irreducible still bent on defending the cassette format which will remain until a last spark still moderate enough single or double decks.
Frank Peck, alias Mark Ritchie, est loin d’être un néophyte dans le domaine, accumulant jusqu’à aujourd’hui une bonne pile de cassettes, à la fois sur son propre label – de cassettes bien sur –, KAW (Killing Animals is Wrong) et sur différents autres labels dont le belge cassettophile de Morc Tapes. Frank Peck, alias Mark Ritchie, is far from being a newcomer in the field, accumulating until today a good stack of cassettes, both on its own label - cassettes of course - KAW (Killing Animals is Wrong) and various other labels whose Belgian cassettophile of Morc Tapes.
Qui dit cassette dit souffle, dit donc lo-fi. Who said cassette said breath, said thus lo-fi. C’est bien de ça qu’il s’agit ici, et encore à sa plus simple expression, une voix, une guitare, un micro et voici Frank Peck, rien de plus – même pas de synthé cracra ni de disto. It is good that he is here, and yet at its simplest expression, a voice, a guitar, a microphone and behold Frank Peck, nothing more - not even synth cracra or disto.
On est en 2002 et plus en 1992. It is in 2002 and more in 1992. Sentridoh et toute sa bande de losing losers semblent loin désormais, à l’âge d’Internet, de l’électronique et du home pc recording. Sentridoh and his band losing losers seem far now, at the age of the Internet, electronics and home pc recording. Il ya quelque chose hors du temps à écouter cette bande magnétique, une nostalgie désuète, une naïveté qu’on n’arrive plus à avoir. There is something out of time to listen to this tape, an old-fashioned nostalgia, a naivety that we can no longer have.
Il n’empêche que ce que fait Frank Peck est intéressant en dehors de la monotonie inhérente à sa démarche. But what is interesting Frank Peck outside the monotony inherent in its approach. Tous les morceaux sont en effet malheureusement bâtis sur la même structure, quasi le même tempo. All the pieces are indeed unfortunately built on the same structure, almost the same tempo.
Les accords de guitares sont beaux et mélancoliques même si pas férocement orignaux et le chant a quelque chose de Mark Eitzel dans sa douleur. The agreements guitars are beautiful and melancholy even if not fiercely moose and singing is something Mark Eitzel in its pain.
Rendez-vous peut-être dans le monde digital avec ses règles propres et sa jungle. Go perhaps in the digital world with its own rules and its jungle.
(Didier Goudeseune 28 Dec 05)
http://www.derives.net/reviews/review.php?id=1143
FRANK PECK “ACOUSTIC HOLOCAUST”
Blimey, babes, wary of playing this ‘cause I’m rarely in the mood for an ‘acoustic holocaust’. Thank Christ though, a misleading title….ha ha ha ha ha ha…. What wags these musicians are, eh? Frank lives in Glasgow and sits strumming his guitar and singing things like ‘I’m gonna keep on drinking till I can barely think’ – doesn’t happen like that, though, does it? More you drink, more you think, makes stuff worse. This is a nice tape, tat seen-too-much-of-life weary voice, a delisssh keyboard interlude. It’s one of those unassuming tapes which is a pleasure to play while doing engrossing things which you can halt from time to time and recover your breath/erection and hear the music and think sad self-pitying thoughts – in an upbeat kinda way. (From Dddd fanzine)
Frank Peck Fragile Idiot
Frank Peck has been producing tapes at a pretty fast pace for some time now, and I’m relative newcomer to his work, but no less of a fan. The format is simple—guitar and voice—and is perhaps more effective for it. His strength is in his voice—it’s strong but anguished, complementing his tales of woe. And that Frank isn’t too happy a chap can be confirmed by the song titles alone: "Time of the Weak", "I Feel Low", "The Loneliness of Roads", "Cut So Deep". But whereas with other performers such introspection may seem like bleeding-heart tedium, with Frank you can’t help but be sucked in. The tunes are almost hypnotic, so that while there isn’t a great deal of variety, you simply don’t notice (er, unless you’re a lowly reviewer like me). So please, sir, can we have some more sir? 8/10 (Speeder fanzine)
FRANK PECK ‘INSIDE THE SPACESHIPS’
Bresney: Well, this is bad, but at least the awful production covers most of it.
Hazer: Now that is very cruel, quite accurate, but we are supposed to at least be kind.
Bresney: No, I don’t! I have been hired to write these reviews because I am a cantankerous old bastard and because it helps me work off my community service hours.
Hazer: I refuse to become involved here, but I will go over and turn this damn thing off. (From AutoReverse fanzine)
FRANK PECK "WORLD OF PECK"
My affection for this man's recordings is well documented. So what the fuck do you expect me to say about 'World Of Peck'!?!? It's beautiful, stunning and hits you right in the gut. Mark (aka Frank Peck) is the master of the slow ballad, earnestly strummed on an acoustic guitar with lovely vocals on top. Perhaps I overstated the Mark Eitzel comparisons before, but who else is doing this kind of stuff? No one in MY record collection. These songs were all recorded in a highly lo-fi manner which, for me, adds to the charm. Gloomy and romantic and with the occasional cheap keyboard thrown in, and melancholier than two motherfuckers. 'My Blood & My Bones' will reduce you to tears! Brilliant! Bring on the CD box set already! (From AutoReverse fanzine)
FRANK PECK "ACOUSTIC HOLOCAUST"
Frank Peck has never failed to amaze. This tape is pure anti-fidelity beauty. Great great songwriting recorded as intimately as possible. Melancholy and majestically dour! The cover of 'There's A Tear In My Beer' is so spot-on that I can't even stand it. That track apart, 'Acoustic Holocaust' is a beautiful, amazing recording. (From AutoReverse fanzine)
FRANK PECK "YEAR OF THE RAT"
Certain derniers irréductibles s’acharnent encore à défendre le format cassette qui subsistera tant qu’une dernière étincelle animera encore suffisament de double ou simple decks.
Frank Peck, alias Mark Ritchie, est loin d’être un néophyte dans le domaine, accumulant jusqu’à aujourd’hui une bonne pile de cassettes, à la fois sur son propre label – de cassettes bien sur –, KAW (Killing Animals is Wrong) et sur différents autres labels dont le belge cassettophile de Morc Tapes.
Qui dit cassette dit souffle, dit donc lo-fi. C’est bien de ça qu’il s’agit ici, et encore à sa plus simple expression, une voix, une guitare, un micro et voici Frank Peck, rien de plus – même pas de synthé cracra ni de disto.
On est en 2002 et plus en 1992. Sentridoh et toute sa bande de losing losers semblent loin désormais, à l’âge d’Internet, de l’électronique et du home pc recording. Il y a quelque chose hors du temps à écouter cette bande magnétique, une nostalgie désuète, une naïveté qu’on n’arrive plus à avoir.
Il n’empêche que ce que fait Frank Peck est intéressant en dehors de la monotonie inhérente à sa démarche. Tous les morceaux sont en effet malheureusement bâtis sur la même structure, quasi le même tempo.
Les accords de guitares sont beaux et mélancoliques même si pas férocement orignaux et le chant a quelque chose de Mark Eitzel dans sa douleur.
Rendez-vous peut-être dans le monde digital avec ses règles propres et sa jungle.
(Matamore)
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)