
Ragtime Frank: I Know Said the King 12"
It only takes a few bars into Ragtime Frankâs fuzz opus âBo 1969â to figure out how Frank likes his toast -- slathered in sizzling distortion, like hot butter bubbling up from the depths of the earth itself. Pile a duo of hammering drummers on top and youâve got the makings of a lip smackinâ sandwich that should satisfy all manner of sonic overload junkies. Containing all the hipshake and earthquake action that anyone could crave and then some. Letâs call it Lo-Fi Big Beat. This is basement Gary Glitter, stripped of any negative connotations. Phil Spector is calling from prison demanding to know how these Aussie weirdos managed to upstage him from the flipside of the equator.
After a handful of LPs on the much-missed Negative Guest List label, Ragtime Frank, key player in The Lost Domain, comes roaring back with a primal authority. The formula is deceptively simple but devastatingly effective: pair a towering Bo Diddley beat with supremely-fried Link Wray guitars. Just add liquor. And some hollerinâ. Stir. And then shake a tail feather. Four songs of greased lightning on a 12â courtesy of NYCâs Ever/Never Records; perfect for your next eviction party. - e/n
It only takes a few bars into Ragtime Frankâs fuzz opus âBo 1969â to figure out how Frank likes his toast -- slathered in sizzling distortion, like hot butter bubbling up from the depths of the earth itself. Pile a duo of hammering drummers on top and youâve got the makings of a lip smackinâ sandwich that should satisfy all manner of sonic overload junkies. Containing all the hipshake and earthquake action that anyone could crave and then some. Letâs call it Lo-Fi Big Beat. This is basement Gary Glitter, stripped of any negative connotations. Phil Spector is calling from prison demanding to know how these Aussie weirdos managed to upstage him from the flipside of the equator.
After a handful of LPs on the much-missed Negative Guest List label, Ragtime Frank, key player in The Lost Domain, comes roaring back with a primal authority. The formula is deceptively simple but devastatingly effective: pair a towering Bo Diddley beat with supremely-fried Link Wray guitars. Just add liquor. And some hollerinâ. Stir. And then shake a tail feather. Four songs of greased lightning on a 12â courtesy of NYCâs Ever/Never Records; perfect for your next eviction party. - e/n
Original: $2,500.00
-70%$2,500.00
$750.00Description
It only takes a few bars into Ragtime Frankâs fuzz opus âBo 1969â to figure out how Frank likes his toast -- slathered in sizzling distortion, like hot butter bubbling up from the depths of the earth itself. Pile a duo of hammering drummers on top and youâve got the makings of a lip smackinâ sandwich that should satisfy all manner of sonic overload junkies. Containing all the hipshake and earthquake action that anyone could crave and then some. Letâs call it Lo-Fi Big Beat. This is basement Gary Glitter, stripped of any negative connotations. Phil Spector is calling from prison demanding to know how these Aussie weirdos managed to upstage him from the flipside of the equator.
After a handful of LPs on the much-missed Negative Guest List label, Ragtime Frank, key player in The Lost Domain, comes roaring back with a primal authority. The formula is deceptively simple but devastatingly effective: pair a towering Bo Diddley beat with supremely-fried Link Wray guitars. Just add liquor. And some hollerinâ. Stir. And then shake a tail feather. Four songs of greased lightning on a 12â courtesy of NYCâs Ever/Never Records; perfect for your next eviction party. - e/n












