After my griping about the way in which reissues have been framed to take in the CLE scene as an apt reference point, Debris pretty much removes any discontent which may have been touted around in my heart.
Again, the angle by which writers and labels talk about Debris’ Static Disposal seems like bunk. It’s all Beefheart and Stooges references with the pervasive Ubus being dunked in for supplemental explication. Appropriate? Surprisingly, yes.
Showing up in Chickasha, Oklahoma during the first half of the seventies basically relegated Debris to an early cessation of its career – not a surprising occurrence given the landscape surrounding the band’s hometown. And while I’ve not ever been to that particular part of OK, I have rambled about a little. The folks, of good Midwestern stock, are likely to lend a hand if they see one’s in need. As for open mindedness, though, there doesn’t seem to be a great reservoir of it stored up somewhere for random dispensation.
With all of that in mind, Debris’ cropping up in the place and time it did is something of a shock. The band even sported a sax player on some tracks. And for those of you who find this all too stimulating to pass up, the group’s work has been compiled on the aforementioned Static Disposal. Two versions exist. The first being the album all proper like with eleven songs and the reissued sporting an extra ten. It’s undoubtedly worth the price of admission – but why you say?
“Manhattan” might suffer a bit from its sense of grandeur. But even with those obsolete glam references, Debris’ caterwauling saxophone works a long way towards injecting even the least impressive sections of this composition – or any of them here – with some excitement.
That concept of excitement, though, works back through history. And while these folks were churning out challenging music in OK, it would seem that the experiments were conceived in a vacuum. There can’t have been too much out of town band traffic rolling through town. And really, that makes Debris all the more impressive.
In mentioning those omnipresent punk precursors, though, we’re all forgetting that its completely possible that Debris hadn’t come into contact with one or several of the genre’s avowed forefathers.
Either way, Static Disposal should go a long way towards sating collectors who have figured that pretty much everything has been dug up and reappropriated. Well, now it has.