Last year, we told you about an amazing indie sci-fi film from Finland called Iron Sky that featured music by military-industrial rockers Laibach and a story about a secret Nazi base on the moon. Well, the film was such an international success that they’ve decided to make a sequel—and this time, it’s personal they need your help to fund it.

Yes, for Iron Sky: The Coming Race, the filmmakers have taken to the crowdfunding site Indiegogo to raise $150,000 worth of seed money for what they hope will eventually be a $15 million budget (which sounds like a lot but is still about 1/20th what they spent on Iron Man 3). Backers of the film can score such goodies as T-shirts, posters and even a first draft of the script, all the way up to all-access set visits and a speaking role in the trailer. So far they’re still about $110,000 short of their goal, with only 13 days of fundraising left—so pony up, people! (Although, unlike Kickstarter, projects that don’t hit their fundraising goals on Indiegogo get to keep the money—so don’t worry, those crazy Iron Sky kids will be fine even if they fall short.)

According the filmmakers, Laibach is already on board to do the soundtrack, as are the original writers, director and special effects folks. What the storyline will be is anyone’s guess—so far, they’ve just released some mysterious artwork depicting what appears to be some kind of high-tech outpost in the middle of a lush wilderness, with the tag line, “From the ashes of mankind, a new breed of superiority will rise.” Does that mean more Nazis? Or something else? We’ll just have to wait and see.

So head over to Indiegogo to pledge your support, and enjoy the Indiegogo teaser video starring director Timo Vuorensola and some North Korean soldieresses I would not want to mess with.

I’m pretty sure everyone assumed by now that Krysta Cameron would not be singing on the new Iwrestledabearonce album, but in case anyone was still holding out, we can now officially dash your hopes: Late for Nothing, the grindcore mathcore metalcore experimental metal band’s third full-length album, will exclusively feature the vocals of Courtney LaPlante, who took over for Krysta last summer during the Warped Tour. Sorry, Krysta fans. For now, metal’s greatest girl death growler seems totally happy being a mom and selling stuff on Etsy.

To close the book on IWABO’s Krysta era once and for all, here’s the lead track from Late for Nothing, “Thunder Chunky.” It’s a bit more conventionally structured and—dare we use the “M” word?—mainstream than past IWABO offerings, but there are still some whiplash tempo changes, including a nifty little ska-like bridge, and LaPlante toggles between clean and dirty vocals almost as effortlessly as Krysta ever did. Have a listen.

Recorded in L.A. in guitarist Steven Bradley’s home studio, Late for Nothing is “our most diverse album to date,” according to Bradley. “It’s a more evolved version of the band.  We explored new styles and genres as well—especially in terms of the more spacey, epic, and beautiful parts. It’s got the most melodic moments of our career as well as the heaviest.”

Late for Nothing is due out August 6th on Century Media Records. You can pre-order it here.

This week’s weird band was suggested by an excellently named reader called Adam Whybray. He describes a.P.A.t.T. as sounding “a bit like a glitchy Mr. Bungle cult that formed down the pub.” And while that’s probably as good a description as any of these cheeky Liverpudlians (although it doesn’t contain the word “Liverpudlian,” which is one of those words you should use every chance you get), it really only scratches the surface of what this avant-pop art-school project has achieved in its 15-odd years of existence.

a.P.A.t.T. (what does it stand for? how do you pronounce it? who knows? who cares?) formed in Liverpool in 1997 or 1998. Their early goal, according to their Wikipedia page (which the band links to from their official site, so let’s assume it’s semi-accurate), was to “make, find, imagine, and create ‘secret music,’” by which they seemed to mean music that abandoned traditional song structures and instrumentation. You can hear some of the band’s early stuff on Welcome to a​.​P​.​A​.​t​.​T. Island – A collection of earlies, which veers sharply between abstract, ambient noise and bursts of spastic, genre-hopping art-pop that reveals some of those Mr. Bungle influences that Adam picked up, as well as an even more direct early influence (and another favorite of ours around here), Cardiacs.

By 2005 or so, the band’s music had become even harder to categorize. On the Fre(e.P), they started doing Girl Talk-like mashups, mixing recognizable pop and classic rock samples with trip-hop beats and trashy club rap, but doing it in a style meant more to be unsettling than party-starting. Check the amazing “Megamix Part 1″ for a taste of what happens when you cram the Jackson 5, Coolio, Portishead and “What a Day for a Daydream” into the same track.

Meanwhile, they were also developing a live soundtrack for the silent-film-era vampire classic, Nosferatu, complete with strings. Because hey, why not?

In 2008, they reinvented themselves yet again, transforming into a Zappa-like prog/jazz/metal/psych-rock orchestra on the epic, 27-track Black & White Mass. Most recently, they released Paul the Record, a split album with a band called Peepholes, then decided to embrace the “playlist on shuffle” mentality of our modern age with Ogadimma, a 14-track set on which no two songs are done in the same style. They’ve also shot videos for all 14 songs; taken collectively, they’re pretty amazing. Here they are, for example, in full-on Prince-meets-Of-Montreal mode:

Now try to remember, as you watch this next video, that this is the same band:

They also cite Ween as one of their influences, which honestly didn’t make sense to me until I heard the casual, tongue-in-cheek virtuosity of the Ogadimma stuff: “Oh, you want to hear us do some ’80s synth-pop? Sure, here you go. No big whoop.” (Among their other listed influences: The Residents, Duran Duran, Captain Beefheart, John Zorn, Slayer, Claude Debussy, ABBA, and The Beatles. Much like a.P.A.t.T.’s actual music, this list simultaneously makes no sense and all the sense in the world.)

You’ll notice up until now that I haven’t mentioned any of a.P.A.t.T.’s members by name. That’s because, quite frankly, I have no idea what they are. a.P.A.t.T don’t perform wearing masks or anything, but they do (mostly) stick to an all-white costume palette that seems to help them maintain a semi-anonymous quality. That plus, let’s be honest here, a.P.A.t.T. is not the world’s most Google-friendly band name. According to their Wikipedia page, their core members go by the names General MIDI, Field Marshall Stack, Dorothy Wave, Master Fader and The Researcher, but that’s all I know.

Oh, did I mention that they sometimes perform site-specific works as a full fucking orchestra? Well, they do. If you want to hear them performing John Zorn and Steve Reich compositions, buy this.

We’ll wrap this post up with a clip of a.P.A.t.T’s live show (non-orchestra version), which looks like jolly good fun. That lady keyboard player (Dorothy Wave, we presume) has sure got some sick dance moves.

Links:

• a.P.A.t.T. official site
• a.P.A.t.T.B.l.o.G.
• The a.P.A.t.T. Orchestra official site
• a.P.A.t.T. on Facebook
• Paul the Record on Amazon.com

During his 1989-1991 stint in prison for keeping a female fan chained up in his bedroom and torturing her for several days, rock’s greatest scumfuck GG Allin kept a journal that, amazingly, has never before been published in full. But now Aggronautix, the company that brought you the GG Allin bobblehead, is finally making Allin’s “30 Days in the Hole” available in print, along with a bunch of his prison drawings and letters he traded with fellow psychopaths like John Wayne Gacy. Just in time for beach reading season!

Weighing in at 208 pages, My Prison Walls comes not, as you might expect, printed on toilet paper and wrapped in a shit-stained hazmat bag. No, this baby is a luscious-looking, limited-edition hardcover book, “wrapped in black saifu cloth and decorated/titled in red foil blood stamping.” I’m not even sure what any of that means, but I’m pretty sure I just heard GG vomit in his grave.

Black saifu cloth aside, this is still the Geege we’re talking about, so the book’s contents are not exactly what you’d call your classic coffee table book fodder. You can read a bunch of excerpts over on Vice.com, which reveal that Allin apparently spent most of his time in the clink jerking off, comparing himself to Jesus Christ, and trying to figure out ways to record vocals by telephone for the next Murder Junkies record. He didn’t use the time to read Thoreau and Emerson and contemplate the error of his ways. Hell, the first thing he did after he got out was skip bail to go back on tour.

My Prison Walls is due out in August but you can pre-order it now for the low, low price of $49.95. Yeah, GG would have probably hated the whole thing except the part where you shell out fifty bucks for the privilege of reading about how he got a scab on his dick from wacking it too many times. That part he would have fucking loved.

Let’s meet this month’s bands, shall we? A more motley bunch was never before assembled, here or on that other weird band blog you read. But they’re all awesome in their own special way. Like really jacked-up snowflakes.

[Sorry, folks, the poll has now closed. Check back here Wednesday, when the winner will be revealed.]

Read on to learn more about this month’s bands:

The Electric Grandmother

Started in Hawaii and now based in Washington, DC, The Electric Grandmother is a husband/wife duo named Pete and Mary Alice. They call their music, which is based entirely on TV shows and movies from the ’80s, “Sitcom-Core.” (Turns out you really can stick “core” on the end of anything and invent a new genre of music.) Here’s their website, and here’s a link to one of their videos, “Virtual Reality Helmet.”

Pan

Pan is either from Detroit or Los Angeles or possibly both. One of their members, John, wrote to us and described Pan as a “musique-concrete folk duo” and gave us a link to their Bandcamp page, saying, “This is our ‘music.’” Anytime someone feels the need to put “music” in quotation marks when referring their own stuff, that’s usually a good sign.

Residude X

This mysterious figure posted a few YouTube links on our Submit a Band page, with the comment, “Here are a couple of tunes you folks might find interesting.” We did. Here’s his Blogspot, too. And that’s literally all we know about him. Well, that and that he has at least one rabid fan who wrote in several times this past week, asking when the new poll would be live. Sorry to keep you waiting, Charlotte!

Travelled Meat

The trio of Super Anchovy, Chop Suey and The Shits, collectively known as Travelled Meat, hail from Tamworth, Australia and make music that might best be described as “electro-darkwave-noise-pop about animal proteins and poor sanitation.” Here’s their latest EP, Too Much Good Slop, on Bandcamp, and here they are on ReverbNation, where you can listen to other toe-tappers like “The grey meat is all gone.”

The Wiggins

The Wiggins is Jon Read, a one-man noise-rock wrecking crew from Houston, Texas. Here’s how he describes his stuff: “Fucked-up white noise surf-rock and rusty nail salt-in-the-wound folk ballads. All delivered with the pill-drunk unsteadiness of Gene Vincent after the crash.” Here’s his Bandcamp, and here’s a video for his song “Golden Age.”

Voting will end at midnight on Sunday, June 16th, with the winner announced the following Wednesday. So vote early and often, and may the weirdest band win!

A few weeks ago, we got an email that began: “Please allow me to introduce myself! My name is TODD TAMANEND CLARK, and I am notorious for having made the weirdest album of all time.” Jaded fuckers that we are, we proceeded to ignore this email for the next two weeks, because when people write to us claiming to have recorded the “weirdest album of all time,” they usually sound more like this.

But eventually, we did get around to checking out Mr. Clark and his allegedly weird oeuvre, including Nova Psychedelia, the collection of tracks from the first decade of his career (1975-1985) that stands as (allegedly) the weirdest set of music ever assembled in one package. And while we’re not gonna crown him Weirdest Artist of All Time just yet, we gotta admit: Todd Tamanend Clark, you are one weird dude.

Here’s Todd’s story as best as we’ve been able to piece it together from various sources, including the man himself, a brief Facebook bio, and a rapturous (but, according to Clark, somewhat inaccurate) review of some of his early work by none other than Julian Cope. He was born in 1952 in Greensboro, Pennsylvania, a small town near the West Virginia border, where he continues to live to this day. A poet, singer and musician, he released his first album under the name The Stars in 1975, then joined a Pennsylvania band called The Eyes and put out an excellently titled release called New Gods: Aardvark thru Zymurgy (sometimes mistakenly credited to a non-existent band called New Gods, though for reasons obvious to those few who’ve ever been lucky to get their hands on an original copy).

During the Stars/Eyes period, Clark’s music was still heavily influenced by the ’60s psychedelic rock of Hendrix, the Doors, the Electric Prunes (who he covered) and especially the United States of America, one of the first bands to use early synthesizers in a psych-rock context. But he was also clearly attuned to the newer, harsher sounds of early punk, and would go on to collaborate with people like The Dead Boys’ Stiv Bators and Cheetah Chrome. Later, in the early ’80s, he dove more deeply into full-blown experimental rock, taking equal inspiration from bands like Pere Ubu (another occasional collaborator) and the works of sci-fi and stream-of-consciousness writers like Harlan Ellison and William S. Burroughs. And yeah, he also collaborated with Burroughs, too. For a smalltown boy from western Pennsylvania, the guy got around.

For awhile there, Clark appeared to be well on his way to, if not fame, at least a sizable cult following. But something seems to have happened between the late ’80s and now that caused Clark to drop even further off the radar than he already was. Maybe his combined interests in his Native American roots (he added the Indian “Tamanend” to his name sometime in the ’80s) and vintage synthesizers (he’s an endorsed Moog Music artist) was too much for most listeners to handle. Or maybe he just didn’t release much music; there seems to be a gap in his catalog between 1984′s Into the Vision (the album that features the aforementioned Burroughs collab, as well as appearances by some of the Pere Ubu and Dead Boys guys) and 2000′s Owls in Obsidian, the first in a trilogy of instrumental tribal-prog-synth-rock explorations that also includes Staff, Mask, Rattle (2002) and Monongahela Riverrun (2004). Todd offered to proofread this article for us for “factual errors,” so hopefully he can either enlighten us.

[Update: Todd did enlighten us. Here's what he wrote: "What I did during the recording gap... After Into The Vision, there was a vinyl single in 1985 ('Flame Over Philadelphia' b/w 'Oceans Of She') which along with my 1980 single ('Secret Sinema' b/w 'Nightlife Of The New Gods') were my college radio hits, the most commercial I ever got. I released no new recordings during the years 1986-1999, although I continued to compose music and play occasional concerts. During that time, I went to graduate school and was a devoted father to my (at that time) five children. (I've since had another son who is now thirteen.) I also immersed myself more deeply into Haudenosaunee and Lenape culture, as well as networked with indigenous activists from other native nations." So there you have it.]

More recently, Clark’s been hard at work on his first vocal album in years, a magnum opus called Dancing Through the Side Worlds. Based on this one interview we found, it was originally slated to come out in 2008 as a four-CD set, but based on our latest email transmission from T.T. Clark himself, it’s now due to arrive in November of this year, just in time for Native American Heritage Month. “If you can imagine Iggy Pop backed by Skinny Puppy and Adrian Belew doing a cyberpunk re-make of Forever Changes with new lyrics by William Burroughs and production by Trent Reznor, you will be somewhere in the aesthetic ballpark of this album,” Todd tell us. OK, then!

Clark’s body of work encompasses so many styles and genres that it’s impossible to cover all of it here, but we’ll skim the surface as best we can. Let’s start with some of his ’70s basement psych-rock stuff, from Aardvark thru Zymurgy:

Then fast-forward to 1984 and Into the Vision, on which he sounds vaguely like Jim Morrison fronting The Residents:

And finally, here’s an extended taste of the Native American-influenced prog-synth freakery he was getting up to circa 2001, with one of his kids, X Tecumseh Clark, playing some of the synths. (Yes, he has a kid named X Tecumseh. And another named Shaman Manitou.) (Bonus fun fact: X Tecumseh is the cover boy for Crystal Castles’ 2010 album.)

So here’s hoping we can do our small part in broadening the audience of this truly original oddball. And here’s hoping he really does release his next album in November as promised, because we cannot wait to break out the thesaurus and the review the hell out of it.

Links:

• Todd Tamanend Clark on MySpace
• Todd Tamanend Clark’s YouTube Channel
• Julian Cope’s Album of the Month: New Gods: Aardvark thru Zymurgy
• Todd Tamanend Clark catalog on Amazon.com

Usually I’m all for trying to Stick It to The Man. But when you stick it to my morning commute, I hope The Man stomps on your neck with his big shiny Man-Boots. So I was delighted to learn this morning that Imperial Stars, the band of d-bag rap-rockers whose only claim to fame is shutting down the 101 freeway here in Los Angeles to perform their single “Traffic Jam 101″ for a bunch of fucked L.A. commuters, just got ordered to pay a $39,000 fine for their little publicity stunt. Thirty-nine grand! That’s a lot of Ed Hardy shirts, huh, guys?

Apparently the Imperial boys also had to plead guilty to a felony charge of conspiracy and perform 35 days of community service. I didn’t know parking a truck sideways on a freeway counted as a conspiracy, but I guess it does take some planning, especially when you’re a bunch of fucking morons.

I can’t bring myself to embed the video for “Traffic Jam 101,” but if you must, you can watch it here.

We look forward to mocking your “Help Us Pay Our Legal Bills” Kickstarter soon, guys.

Back in college, I lived on the same floor with a guy who would crank the music from his dorm room crazy loud so he could sing along to it in the shower down the hall. He tended to alternate between…and I couldn’t make this up if I tried, people…Guns ‘N Roses’ Use Your Illusion and the soundtrack to Grease. I really wish I had kept in touch with that guy, who I think was named Dave, because he would be all over this German a cappella metal band Van Canto like Axl Rose on a Cheesecake Factory. Also, because I never got a chance to punch him in the face for making me listen to Grease every fucking morning for half a semester.

Assuming middle-aged Dave still sings “November Rain” in the shower as lustily as college-aged Dave, he’d probably be packing his bags for Germany this July. That’s because on July 14th, Van Canto will be recording a “Van Cantian Choir” for their next album, and they want their fans to participate. “You don’t have to be talented in singing,” says the announcement in the news section of their website, “you only have to be many people and you have to be loud!” Many people and loud, huh? Maybe they should recruit these guys.

This will all go down in a town called Dortmund, which is also home to a big-ass free music festival called Bochum Total which happens at the same time. So come for the Van Canto sing-along, stay to party with a bunch of sweaty Germans. You’ll need an extra-long shower afterwards and you can sing your ass off the whole time.

The Van Cantian Choir will appear on Van Canto’s fifth album, which the band is hard at work on as we speak, with a tentative release date season of “next winter.” Recently they just posted on Facebook that they’ve finished recording all the drum tracks and are preparing to lay down some of those sweet metal vocal harmonies next. We’ll keep you posted on their progress.

Oh, we almost forgot to tell you how you can sing with Van Canto, didn’t we? Apparently, you can just send an email to choir@vancanto.de. Disclaimer: They first announced this about a month ago, so it’s possible that all the singing spots are already taken. But hey, give it a shot. The worst they can say is, “Nein, danke.”

Something old and something new from our penis-nosed friend Dr. Reecard Farché, aka Anklepants: He’s just released a 12″ single on off-white vinyl featured a massively extended club-anthem rework of “[speak you little facehead],” the track that (along with its hallucinatory video) first introduced us to pleasures of this Aussie breakcore/tech-glitch weirdo over a year ago. Called “SPEEK YOU LITTLE RE-ƒacéé,” the new version clocks in at nearly 12 minutes and features a long four-on-the-floor outro that sounds like 4 a.m. in a Berlin S&M club. You can stream the whole glorious thing below via Soundcloud.

“SPEEK YOU LITTLE RE-ƒacéé” is out now on Love Love Records and available for purchase here. DJs who still spin vinyl, do your record crates a favor and score a copy. It’s worth it for the baboon cover art alone.

Say hello to our latest Weird Band Poll winners: Godswounds. They’re a bunch of hairy dudes from Australia who play a sort of math-rock/metal/dub/videogame-soundtrack combo featuring double drums, lots of choppy guitar, some trumpet and an instrument that sounds like a Theremin but I think is just some kind of vintage synth. They’re fun. They also have an excellent weird band pedigree: That’s Mr. Bungle‘s Danny Heifetz on one of the two drum kits and their latest album, Death to the Babyboomers, features members of The Melvins, Oxbow, Red Sparrowes and Sleepytime Gorilla Museum. Remember, kids: You’re never too weird to network.

You can stream all of Death to the Babyboomers on Bandcamp and even buy the whole thing for US $7 if you’re living large. Meantime, here’s an example of their live show, which takes awhile to get to Crazytown but makes up for lost time when it gets there. What’s Australian for “melt your fucking face off”? Sound is a little low, so crank it.

So congrats on winning the poll, Godswounds! And for the rest of y’all: Keep an eye out for our next poll in a couple weeks. It’s gonna be the most bonkers one yet, and I’m not just saying that because Andy beats me if we don’t get enough people voting.

Links:

• Godswounds official site
• Godswounds on Facebook
• Godswounds on Bandcamp