Press for Tommy Jay

Tom's Tall Tales of Trauma - LP/extended CD - CDR020

The old line about The Velvet Underground is that not many people saw 'em, but everyone who did started a band of their own.* At the very least, this seems to have been true in Ohio, where the Velvets gigged at La Cave in Cleveland at least semi-regularly. By the mid-70s Cleveland had a small scene of bands formed by folks who'd seen those shows--most notably Rocket from the Tombs and The Mirrors. And while I don't know if Tommy Jay had made the trip up from Harrisburg, it does say something that in 1974 he recorded a cover of "The Ocean"--a song only known to tape/bootleg collectors until its release on a live album in September of that year. That track, along with another 1974 basement recording, "I Was There," is the earliest of the dozen songs on Tommy Jay's Tall Tales of Trauma. The album, originally released as a cassette on the legendary Old Age/No Age label, compiles tracks from over a decade of Tommy Jay's recordings. Backed by familiar names from the Columbus music underground (Nudge Squidfish and Mike Rep, among others) Jay's songwriting offers an extensive palate. The two tracks that most immediately bring to mind the turn-of-the-80s DIY underground--"Memories" and "Last Hurrah"--offer very different approaches. The former is melancholy minimal synth while the latter is more calculated and angular post-punk. The whimsical "Old Hemingway" brings to mind rolling hills with fairies fluttering about...at least if you can ignore the line about "shooting sharks with a machine gun." There are tracks that bring to mind Iggy Pop/David Bowie collaborations ("Lust Honor and Love") as well as introspective folk ("Winter Nomad" from 1978). Taken as a whole--and there's a lot to take in--Tommy Jay's Tall Tales of Trauma is a vivid snapshot of an era of unconventional, adventurous songwriting in Jay's life. As such, it's an album worth spending substantial time with--and worth putting away, out of your mind, for a while and coming back to. It's a mysterious and haunting ride, but in the end the rewards are worth the effort. As an aside, I can only hope that this is the first in a series of vinyl reissues of Old Age/No Age releases. There are some true gems on the label that deserve a wider audience than they've had. Start with "Blind Boy in the Backseat" and move on from there.(DH)

* Fact checking attributes this quote to Brian Eno, and it's actually about people who bought their debut LP upon release, not about seeing them, but I think my point remains.

(DH) Terminal Boredom

Strong outsider vibes douse this potent, out-of-nowhere reissue of a decade's worth of recordings by Ohio's Tommy Jay. All but lost to the margins when the burgeoning interest in Columbus punk/rock dried up in the late '90s, this edition (issued as a cassette in the mid-80s to hardly anyone) benefits from a reawakened curiosity in such sounds, these songs having ripened from as early as '74. Grafting a personal vision onto already-worthy VU/Roky/Mayo Thompson booze-n-pills lit school ambiance, with absolutely nothing to lose, here is the sound of an old human spirit taking flight. Stacks up to any comparable singer-songwriter release from the past few years and blows it right down.

-Doug Mosurock dusted

Never saw this coming, but perennial Columbus underground rock side-player/Mike Rep buddy Tommy Jay gets his due here, on a vinyl and CD reissue of an Old Age/No Age cassette release from 1986. Fully-formed folk-psych and oddities related, with an accomplished yet sheltered presence that's unlike anything I'd have anticipated. Material reaches as far back as 1974, when it seemed Jay really found his footing - psych anthems like "I Was There" and a cover of Velvets outtake "Ocean" from all the way back then leak into the headspace of the other tracks like a black pen in the washing machine, prefiguring Roky Erickson's own solo career and displaying how much Jay was putting forth in terms of home studio discovery. Easily as good as much of the Acid Archives-approved private press material, Jay's both confident and varied in his approaches, always knowing the right next steps to take. 500 copies (100 of which are on purple vinyl) vs. a CD pressing with seven bonus tracks. Buy both.

-Doug Mosurock dusted

The Columbus Discount label has released a trio of new vinyl that have all made a lasting impression, one of which predates the label itself. Recorded mostly throughout the 80's (one track bein from '74) Tommy Jay's Tall Tales Of Trauma spent many yrs as an acorn (that's Woodbe code for cassette-Capt'n Siltbreeze) before the CDR crew seen fit to let it grow into the majestic oak it always has been. Some may know Tom's work as a collaborator 'n agitator to Mike Rep & I'd bet there's even some of you's what recall his True Believers 7", 'Accept It' on Rep's Old Age label from the early 80's. You might say Tall Tales is an extension of that record, albeit a more personal endeavor. Throughout the yrs of hearin it on tape I'd always looked at it like one man's attempt to make his own version of 'Berlin'. In the world of Lou Reed fans that's a record that seems to be either loved or reviled & in the hamlet of Harrisburg, Ohio it's no secret which side of the line these guys stand behind. Take away the Bob Ezrin production, the maudlin, heavy handed sap & snark of Lou's amphetamine ego & hey, I'd say you got as pretty close doppelganger. There's all sort's of sweet overdubs that makes this DIY effort so protean whether they be strings, keyboards, the odd creak or a fluttering woodwind. And in the middle of it all is Tom's vocals & arrangements, standin hard, like a moden day Prometheus. 'Tall Tales' ain't exactly the fire stolen from Zeus, I mean, Lou's 'Berlin', but it was sort've hidden from most humans for many yrs. Thankfully the format it has so richly deserved now claims it as one of it's own. It's a grower that knows no limits.

siltblog

Caught Tommy Jay's set at Carabar last night, and it was gorgeous. Just beautiful. His band consisted of a woman on backing vocals and conga drums, another woman (apparently Mike Rep's ladyfriend) on vocals, a lead guitar, a pedal steel player, and Mike Rep himself providing (exceptionally good) Casio bass lines and other keyboard ornamentation. They also brought up another friend, a short woman with closely cropped gray hair and wearing a spangled bird mask, to provide backup crowing and cawing on a song. All the participants looked incredibly happy to be onstage and added a positive sheen to Tommy Jay's mysterious and melancholic tunes. The loving connection between old friends playing music together was palpable. I absolutely have nothing cynical to say about this. It was great. I have to say on my 30th birthday it was also quite inspirational. I can only hope to be that weird and wonderful and committed to kicking out the jams 15 years down the line.

-Laura B UR So Artgay!!

The real treasure of this recent batch is the re-issue of Tommy Jay's Tall Tales of Trauma -- originally released as an Old Age/No Age cassette in 1986 it's been generally unheard, ignored, and somewhat lost in the shuffle until the kids from Waverly so graciously unearthed it.

Tommy Jay has always been in the mix -- writing songs and playing drums for the Quotas or the True Believers farther back, collaborating on a number of Nudge Squidfish self-releases -- but even as an equal in the now legendary Ego Summit, his contemporaries main projects (V-3, TJSA, Bassholes) out shined Jay's dark horse status. Only now does one realize that his "Novocaine" was the fulcrum of the entire project. He was the poignant, coherent, folkie among a barn full of well-medicated genius.

The balance between these crisp psych-folk nuggets and direct contact with the lunatic fringe (be it "little black jelly beans," blotter, and blue oyster cults) make Tall Tales a rewarding time warp through twelve years of Central Ohio lore. In the record's earliest documents (circa '74, Timberlake) the Velvet's influence is obvious, not just on the cover of "Ocean" but also in "I Was There," a jangly, kaleidoscope of bittersweet pop that never edits his repeated guitar freak-outs. Into the 80's the specter of Lou Reed (or perhaps more referentially precise, the echoes of Mayo Thompson) loomed large in Jay's voice, phrasing, and tragic moods evoked, still the mysticism of Harrisburg is the overwhelming resonate. May I be crucified for such statement, but Tall Tales is infinitely more colorful and strange than any Reed solo venture (save Berlin), because it's the quirky folk record Reed never made. It tip-toes around Indian burial grounds, abuses cheap-drug in dingy basements, chronicles the lives of gypsies, tramps, thieves, murderers, the village idiot and the quintessential anti-hero in all of us (who may or may not still live on Weber Rd.)

Back to that lunatic fringe -- the cast of characters Jay surrounded himself with give the songs their creepy (and often beautiful) skin. Squid's pedal-steel synth on "Memories" transforms it into dim-lit neon honky-tonk or the flute and harmony provided by Jennifer Eling and Mike Rep respectively on the Joni Mitchell cover "Dreamland" is the closest thing to Laurel Canyon sunshine these ears have heard in the Columbus pantheon.

But the star here is Tommy Jay and his paradox sparring a warped ideal of weird America ("Last Hurrah," "Fear of Shadows," "The Bugmen") against a couple shots at cult eternity (in the straight-faced demeanor of "Old Hemingway" or the heart-felt "Lust, Honor and Love") is truly an emotional and sonic blur which always makes for the world's most cherished and puzzling musiques. Treasure indeed.

-Kevin Elliott World of Wumme

The CDR brain trust built their label on a hearty appreciation for their forefathers, so it's about time they unearthed a lost artifact like Tommy Jay's Tall Tales of Trauma.

The LP, originally released as a cassette in 1986, cobbles together 10 years of outsider folk and sonic scraps from Jay, drummer for Mike Rep & the Quotas and former member of much-mythologized acts Ego Summit and True Believers.

Though Jay has been a staple of the Columbus underground for decades, he hasn't gotten the recognition afforded to many of his contemporaries and bandmates. The Tall Tales reissue seems bound to change that.

Beginning deceptively with two minimal man-and-guitar ruminations, the record expands into mellowed-out psychedelic rockers that owe as much to Zeppelin and Hendrix as to obvious avant-touchpoints like Lou Reed. "Memories" applies Jay's psych-folk template to synthesized swells and tinny 808s. Resigned but passionate, this is the sound of flower children after the wilting.

The reissue, packed with bonus tracks even more obscure than the album's 13 original tracks, will be celebrated February 9 at Carabar.

-Chris DeVille Columbus Alive

Tommy Jay plays drums with Mike Rep & the Quotas, and this disc is steeped in the same sort of Midwestern proto-punk vibe that permeates everything from the Rep universe. But this is different too. It has an unpretentious small-town folk-psych vibe--really tall tales of dark humor and giddy weariness that makes it come across like a Midwestern version of Lou Reed's Street Hassle. Things are generally stripped down--lots of acoustic guitars, recorders and autoharps, folkie percussion--and kinda pretty in a kinda ugly way! "Tough Luck Roy," the first of the tall tales, is about a murderer who's rotting behind bars. "Village Idiot," which appeared in a more revved-up version on the Quotas' Black Hole Rock, is another tale of a two-bit loser: "He thinks he's a small-town marauder/But right now I'm all strung out on blotter/And I ain't thinkin' the way I oughta." And Tommy tackles a big-time loser on "Old Hemmingway" (co-writ by Mike Rep): "Old Hem . . . shooting sharks with a machine gun." Mr. Jay manages to turn the simple act of getting out of bed into another mini-drama: "Little black jelly bean and several cups of caffeine . . . I take a quick peak at the latest Penthouse spread." Then he rolls out of bed in the afternoon and heads for the bar! Like a lot of the stuff here, the Velvets loom large, albeit it in a middle-Amerikan hetero sorta way. As if to prove the point, there's a great echo-drenched cover of the VU's "The Ocean." And there are a bunch more tracks of equal quality. Real nice stuff here.

slippytown.com