Big Black - (Sound Of Impact.)

When I was a much younger badgerstump, my weekly ritual was to trawl down to Piccadilly Records (when it was in the grandiosely titled Piccadilly Plaza). Once you got past the toxic fog created by the revving bus engines, paradise awaited. Row upon row of the latest Homestead, Dischord, Touch And Go, SST, Taang, Shimmy Disc and more. This was at the time when the American underground labels finally got themselves European distribution deals and rabid scrotums like me didn't have to rely on crushingly expensive imports ... or worse ... not being able to hear the things you were reading about at all.

So, it's 1987. I'm reading the vastly superior Sounds music paper. Songs About Fucking is about to be released and Mr Albini is announcing their break-up "before they start sucking dick" and neglecting to mention that Santiago Durango going back to law school had something to with it (he ended up representing Cynthia Plastercaster and helping her to retrieve her bronze casts of rock star's penises ... and if that isn't Big Black through and through then I don't know what is).

So. I'm straight off to town to get me a copy of said Fucking ... and up on the wall behind the counter is (Sound Of Impact.). What the fuck is that I inquire of my mentor (never asked his name but he was an impeccable barometer ... Sex Mad by Nomeansno ... an approving nod for a fine choice ... Steel Construction by The Leather Nun? You've let me down and your family down, do better next time ... and let's face it he was right). This had never been in stock before and I wasn't going to risk not seeing it again. So I went home with this beast instead and returned for Songs the week after.

The title comes from the back sleeve that has 12 transcripts of flight box recordings where the airliners inevitably end with (Sound Of Impact.). Let's face it, if you are into Big Black then you at least have a rip of this already. Who knows, maybe you are the only one here that doesn't know it. This finishes off with a track called Bumbandit (great name for a track) but it's actually Rema Rema. How was I supposed to know?

Anyway, first edition, number 0648. You'll never see it for sale in my lifetime.

"Semi-official bootleg" LP on Not (the bootlegging arm of Blast First) in 1987. Discogs has this as a 1986 release, it isn't. It's 1987. How on earth do they get away with such subjective chronology?

Oh Manchester, so much to answer for ...