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This 1986 album by The Primates remain as the only recording ever released by these four 60s r&b and garage fans. Originally published on Greg Shaw's very own Voxx (Bomp! sublabel focused on revival garage/psychedelia) and produced by Shaw himself, this valuable musical document that portraits the essence of the L.A. 80s garage scene, has been out of print for more than 20 years! So we thought it would be a perfect record to reissue as part of our Bomp! reissue series. The Primates were formed in 1984 and cut their teeth at L.A. spots such as the Cavern Club, as part of a growing scene of devoted Nuggets/Pebbles fans, fascinated with 1960s garage punk classics. The core of the band were Brett Miller and Ted Edlefsen, sporting Vox guitars, and Erik Bluhm as front man, with different drummers, mostly Brian Corrigan but then also Eric from Threw the Looking Glass and Gene from The Miracle Workers. The opener 'I Ain't Like You', 'Bad Luck' or the fun cover of Neil Sedaka's 'I Go Ape' reflect the wild, party-driven mood of the entire album, making you wonder how crazy their shows were in the golden era of the L.A. 80s garage scene. Combining originals and versions (check their great take on Q65's 'I Got Nightmares'), "We Are The Primates" remains as a wild, raw, party album that every fan of garage music should own. Munster is thrilled to reissue this essential '80s garage gem as part of a series of releases celebrating Bomp! 50th anniversary. Our issue includes a booklet with liner notes and rare photos and ephemera.

Eighty-three years ago, director Rob Reiner chose the picturesque town of Brownsville, Oregon as the filming location for his classic coming-of-age story, Stand By Me. The heart-warming movie was nominated for an Academy Award and has continued to be a favorite of both critics and fans around the world. The film, whose plot is based on Stephen King's novella The Body and title is derived from the Ben E. King's eponymous song, which plays over the opening and ending credits, tells the story of four boys in small town Oregon who go on a hike across the countryside over Labor Day weekend in 1959 to find the dead body of a missing child. The classic soundtrack is crammed with early rock & roll hits (“Yakety Yak”, “Lollipop” & “Great Balls of Fire” o.a.) and still sounds very alive today, decades after they were originally recorded. 180 gram audiophile vinyl PVC protective sleeve Featuring songs by Ben E King, Jerry Lee Lewis, Buddy Holly a.o.

close to NM. Original inner sleeve

1986 pressing on white Vinyl!

As anyone who worked in a record store from the late 1980s to the mid-1990s can relate, the two Shimmy Disc albums released by the Rev. Fred Lane were the weirdest, most bizarre, abstractly enigmatic releases any of them had ever heard. From the dadaist titles and surrealist cover artwork to the absurdly peculiar lyrics and dementedly brilliant musical bent that careened from country to jazz to Morricone-inspired Western soundtracks, From The One That Cut You and Car Radio Jerome bewitched listeners with Lane’s eccentric take on music and, by extension, life in general. Early internet chat rooms and message boards were devoted to solving the mystery. For decades, rumors swirled about them. “We would just stare at the album covers and kinda make up our own stories,” Eric Friedl of Goner Records says of the misleading recording notations, fictitious back catalogs, and vague artistic allusions that dropped mostly fake clues for Lane’s most astute fans to decipher. Then, in 2013, Lane himself surfaced at the University of Alabama for an exposition. Seven years later, Icepick To The Moon, a documentary about Lane by filmmaker Skizz Cyzyk, premiered. The film, which took more than twenty years to piece together, filled in most of the blanks that had stumped generations of fans. Learning the details of Lane’s albums doesn’t change their inscrutability. The alternate Alabama universe that Lane and his compatriots conjured up—in, of all places, the southern college football town of Tuscaloosa—is a metaphysical place as vast and imbued with meaning as Faulkner’s Yoknapatawpha. As Friedl raves, “They’re still different from any other record out there.”

Vinyl seems unplayed.

Cover close to VG+

As anyone who worked in a record store from the late 1980s to the mid-1990s can relate, the two Shimmy Disc albums released by the Rev. Fred Lane were the weirdest, most bizarre, abstractly enigmatic releases any of them had ever heard. From the dadaist titles and surrealist cover artwork to the absurdly peculiar lyrics and dementedly brilliant musical bent that careened from country to jazz to Morricone-inspired Western soundtracks, From The One That Cut You and Car Radio Jerome bewitched listeners with Lane’s eccentric take on music and, by extension, life in general. Early internet chat rooms and message boards were devoted to solving the mystery. For decades, rumors swirled about them. “We would just stare at the album covers and kinda make up our own stories,” Eric Friedl of Goner Records says of the misleading recording notations, fictitious back catalogs, and vague artistic allusions that dropped mostly fake clues for Lane’s most astute fans to decipher. Then, in 2013, Lane himself surfaced at the University of Alabama for an exposition. Seven years later, Icepick To The Moon, a documentary about Lane by filmmaker Skizz Cyzyk, premiered. The film, which took more than twenty years to piece together, filled in most of the blanks that had stumped generations of fans. Learning the details of Lane’s albums doesn’t change their inscrutability. The alternate Alabama universe that Lane and his compatriots conjured up—in, of all places, the southern college football town of Tuscaloosa—is a metaphysical place as vast and imbued with meaning as Faulkner’s Yoknapatawpha. As Friedl raves, “They’re still different from any other record out there.”

Vinyl with scuffs and hairlines

Japanese pressing, no Obi.

Vinyl with a long hairlines on Side 2, otherwise VG+. Japanese reissue from 1980 without OBI, with insert. Cover with light wear and a couple of small stains, no seam splits or tears.

With original inner sleeve

Japanese pressing with OBI and insert. Vinyl close to NM

Japanese pressing with OBI and insert. Vinyl with a couple of light scuffs

Cover with edge wear.

Cover with seam split on bottom spine.

Japanese pressing without OBI, with insert.

Slightly warped but still enjoyable!

Japanese pressing, comes with Obi and inserts.

Original japanese pressing with OBI

Japanese pressing without OBI.

Japanese pressing with OBI and insert.

Original japanese pressing

Original japanese pressing without OBI!

Promo copy with white labels . Vinyl close to VG+

Original japanese pressing with obi and insert.

Original japanese pressing with obi.

Cover with beginning of seam split on top spine, close to VG+

Japanese pressing without OBI

Japanese pressing with obi.

Punk rock was all the rage in 1977, but that didn’t bother the Count Bishops: five unashamedly blokes, emerging from the bars and clubs of London, with a solid rock’n’rollin’ sound that some thought retrograde and others timeless. At the very least, they could claim to be the finest Polish, Australian, American, English band in town.

This was the debut of singer Dave Tice, who joined the original line-up of Zennon De Fleur (rhythm guitar and haulage), Johnny Guitar (guitar), Steve Lewins (bass) and Paul Balbi on drums. As tight a unit as you could wish for, they produced a driving, raucous rhythm and blues.

The LP is a mix of originals, blues tunes and classic 60s covers, all played with plenty of meat on the bone. Julian Holland is credited as piano on ‘Down The Road Apiece’, and I wonder whatever happened to him. Vic Maile, one of the country’s finest engineers, pushed faders and worked magic on the audio. Two originals, ‘Baby You’re Wrong’ / ‘Stay Free’ became the single off the album and the band hit the road with Motörhead. If you remember being on that tour, you weren’t.

It’s a record that has stood the test of time, when some of their punkier contemporaries now sound of their time.

The sleeve of the first issue was printed on the reverse of the board, giving it a suitable gritty, rough-cut look that we have reproduced here as best possible 45 years later. The blurred photograph on the front lends them an air of menace, a bunch of long hairs in a time of short cuts.

They went on to one more studio album before Zenon died as a result of a crash in his Aston Martin, which he had lovingly restored. The four remaining members reformed in 2005 for the Ace 30th anniversary party at Dingwalls Dancehall in Camden Town and they still rocked the house.

Japanese pressing without OBI, with insert.

Japanese pressing with OBI and insert. Cover with light wear.