I've gotta keep it brief tonight:
The Volcano Suns were formed by Mission of Burma drummer Peter Prescott and went through various line-up changes and skints on Homestead, SST and Quarterstick during the eighties. Their debut album, Bright Orange Years, was released on Homestead in 1985 and is generally regarded as their finest work. The album itself is a messy sprawl of lo-fi noise, spliced up guitars and tuneful - if not slightly over the top - shouty/souring vocals. Vinyl Mine and 'Buked & Scorned (both far superior to this sorry excuse for a music blog) have already written a more definitive history of the band than I could ever hope to do though; I geniunely had no idea that William Oldham was fan; then again, they do have a ramshackle Chavez vibe about them, so it doesn't come to that much of a suprise.
It's band like this that prompt me to ask that tired old question: Why are music critics are still disparaging of the eighties? It has become more and more convient to write this decade off as a medieval period for music, but labels like Homestead, SST Records; and the music being re-released from this period is becoming increasingly difficult to supress. It's only a matter of time before a writer manages to build on the work of Azerrad in Our Band Could Change Your Life. I'm clearly not the person to do this, but bands like the Volcano Suns are certainly worthy of revisiting - or at least re-issuing. Is it "Pigfuck" music? I'd be more inclined to agree that this term is far too wide from the mark when discussing bands. That's just say that we all like music with a little mud in it.
Vocano Suns - Balancing Act