Punk Business Manager

“HOMO ELECTRICA released one two-song, one-sided 7” on Violent Vinyl, limited to 200 copies, with a crude sleeve.  It was recorded October 10, 1977.  Their name is supposed to be Latin for ‘The Electric Human’ but then it should have properly been Homo Electricus.  The thanks list includes Lou Reed, Alvin Lee, the hippie guitarist of Ten Years After, and Ginger Baker, the drummer of Cream.  My initial reaction was that this was too good to be true.  Then I listened to it.

The two songs are mid-tempo (meaning they end up mostly playing the tempo in between the fast and slow ones to which they accidentally waver), untalented, at times arrhythmic, and obviously enthralled with rocknroll as if they lived in the parallel universe in the which the DESPERATE BICYCLES had respectfully watched the PISTOLS bash out their floating racket during the Silver Jubilee and then torpedoed and sank their vessel (homemade torpedo, natch).  ‘Beat On’ and ‘Surviver’ (yes, with an e) are basic tracks about rock music that sound like PROBLEM’s younger brudders lampooning their elder siblings’ love of rocknroll.  But music this recklessly passionate and passionately reckless is no joke.

Frederick, the singer of HOMO ELECTRICA, discovered punk rock because his school library had a subscription to New Musical Express, but he had been a fan of Lou Reed since the early 70s, even going as far as to get a short haircut like Reed’s while long hair was in.  (Note: HOMO ELECTRICA, like a million other bands, covered ‘Waiting For My Man’).  The bassist had never played before, but the drummer had previously played in another band- ironic because his drumming is some of the worst this side of Houston’s Vast Majority (actually, that’s unfair: no other drumming is that bad!).  On October 10, 1977, HOMO ELECTRICA had a gig at their high school, and after the crowd left, they recorded the two songs for the 7″ live through the mixing board.  They found the cheapest pressing plant in Sweden, and decided that it’d be even cheaper to squeeze both songs on one side of the record.  They cut and folded the sleeves themselves, decorated the blank labels with a marker, and then sold copies to friends at school and to stores, employees of which were surprised that these kids had made their own record.  Without even knowing about the DESPERATE BICYCLES, HOMO ELECTRICA embodied their DIY principles.  Or, perhaps I should say that the ‘BIKES, as perfect as they are, wanted nothing more than to be like HOMO ELECTRICA, but the difference was that the intellectual Brits couldn’t help being self-conscious in the process.  In the end, HOMO ELECTRICA played only ten gigs and lasted a year and a half, but their admitted intention of using the band to get girls (not to enact a DIY ethic) seemed to work, because none of the boys in their school would go see them play.

Sometimes I wonder what listeners want to get out of a punk record.  If every band were out of tune, lo-fi, and stupid, the world of punk would be a boring one, but I think there should be a lot of room in our collections for gems like HOMO ELECTRICA, because they’re vivid, unadulterated (and un-adult) examples of a punk rock aesthetic by kids who did not know or care to know any better.  It’s records like this, even if they’re not something one wants to listen to every day, which make the search for rare old punk records worthwhile.  Oh yeah, to my knowledge, this record does not appear on any compilations.” [Punk Business Manager’s note: no, Homo Electrica has not been on any comp and in these days, when the virtual world of mp3 blogs have kind of taken the place in SOME ways of KBD-type comps being pressed on actual vinyl, to my knowledge, no, Homo Electrica has not appeared on any other blog yet]