BLEEDING HEAD GOOD, HEALED HEAD BAD (2003)

  • MP3 ALBUM

Sub-Genius themed sound collages

Produced & composed by Trippo Marx
Recorded 1990-2003 Mixed 2001-2003 Remixed 2002-2019
Released August 17th 2003
© 2003-2019 Screwy Bastards Records SBX2

MAYBE, MAYBE NOT (15:01)
Part 1 Baby Barf On Pasta
Part 2 Mars Needs Glorps
Part 3 Morrison Hotel Paint Thinner Fumes
Part 4 Heavy Habafropzipulops Trance
Part 5 Dance Of The Goat Sodomizers
Part 6 Other Types Of Pollution

CHURCH OF THE PERFECT FIT (6:37)
WHISKER BISCUITS (4:15)
WATER BALLET OF THE SNOPRELEP PUHTORKUS (5:29)
BLEEDING HEAD GOOD, HEALED HEAD BAD (3:30)
STUMPFKDAZE 1 (3:19)
STUMPFKDAZE 2 (3:00)
STOP GLOBAL NORMING (3:26)
PLANET OF THE PINK BOYS (9:29)
SELLIN' ICE WATER IN HELL (15:00)
Part 1 Caravan
Part 2 Descent
Part 3 Inferno
Part 4 Crossing
Part 5 Pitch
Part 6 Exile

YOUR THIRD NOSTRIL SHOULD BE OPEN BY NOW (3:09)

TRIPPO MARX guitar synths drum machine bass percussion
with THE IMPROMPTU REVERENDS OF THE CHURCH OF THE PERFECT FIT
REV. F. U. MIDDLEFINGER voices guitar REV. MAYBE-MAYBENOT voices REV. DESI BELMONDO voices REV. MEEKUS MOBLEY voice REV. TRIXTER SHAMAN voice REV. A. MONGUS voices REV. BABBIT voice bass REV. PRIDE voice REV. PENOIR PENWISE coughing REV. MANNHEIM JOINT ROLLER bass

Bleeding Head Good, Healed Head Bad was contructed from an assortment of lo-fi recordings made between 1990-1994 relating in some vague way to the Church of the Sub-Genius. It consists of double-speed guitar improvisations and demos, portions of the 1992 X-Day Devival in Austin, Texas, and other random episodes of chaotic madness recorded on a handheld microcassette recorder, as well as a handful of unfinished pieces from 4-track cassettes, all digitally spliced and diced together with drum loops and other overdubs into a mutant collage of Slack-Infused Bulldada designed for the most esoteric Sub-Genius Earholes, presented and narrated by the impromptu Reverends of the Church of the Perfect Fit.

Water Ballet Of The Snoprelep Puhtorkus: A good bit of my 8th grade year at Welch Middle School in Houston, Texas, was spent drawing comic portraits of a lovable doofus which became affectionately known to myself and the inventor of said doofus, one Wendell Burns, as the SNOPRELEP PUHTORKUS. Wendell and I shared a math class (?), during which he and I constantly and not so surreptitiously passed these goofy drawings between us to while away the boring hours & days. One day he did a line drawing of a flat-headed guy with curly hair, wearing a football jersey (#0), Birdwell Beach Britches (whatever they are), a Bongo Belt (whatever that is), and a vacant expression on his blocky face. The title read "Snoprelep Puhtorkus". This pleased us both so much we spent the rest of the school year creating multitudes of Puhtorkus drawings and creating dumb adventures for the main Puhtorkus character ("Puhtorky") to be involved in with his sidekick Cozmic Piggy (a character based on a Halloween costume Wendell invented). In retrospect, I suppose the character was an archetype for how we must have felt at the time, something like Clumsy Mutant Freaks in the Land of Redneck American Cheese.

Stumpfkdaze 1 (The Delusions of Perry Noya): This track features two themes, Pflugerville-bashing and the "Noya Clan". Pflugerville is a small city just north of Austin, founded originally by German immigrants. "Stump Pfuck Days" is an imaginary festival invented by Rev. F. U. Middlefinger to lampoon the city. The Noya clan is an imaginary group of less-than-well-adjusted folks who live in Pflugerville and who speak loudly, frantically and continually in panicked voices (sounding like George Jetson yelling while running around on the Space Treadmill Thing). Along with Perry Noya, there's brother I. Don Noya, sister Ila Noya, cousin Desi Noya, etc.

Sellin’ Ice Water In Hell (A Sub-Genius Fairy Tale): A group of Bobbies form a Caravan to Hell, ostensibly for the purpose of cornering the very lucrative ice water market. The Descent is dangerous and harrowing and many are lost. The few remaining Bobbies arrive in the Underplace to find that it is naught but a raging Inferno and that Hell Itself lies beyond the Great And Mighty Flaming River Of Tortured Souls And Wantonly-Dispersed Bodily (Not Necessarily Human) Fluids. A long and treacherous Crossing must be made, and the caravan is heralded at near and far fiery shores by a thundering blast from the disturbingly phallic Satanic Saxophone. The Bobbies reach Hell Itself at last and somehow manage to gain enough Slack to arrange an audience with Pitch, who, having been on the losing end of one of J. R. “Bob” Dobbs’ “business opportunities” one too many times, summarily sends the whole caravan of Pink Bobbie Assholes into an eternal Exile, leaving them doomed to roam the Underplace forever without hope of Slack or Salvation. Can I get a Praise “Bob”?