Tangerine Dream – Ultima Thule (1971, 7')

A tumultuous early single (drums, yeah) that perfectly condenses Tangerine Dream's initial psychedelic phase (also pairing beautifully, in a yin/yang sort of way, with their Oszillator Planet Concert track, on the everything and the kitchen sink krautfest Ossiach Live, from the same year), which means it comes with the additional appeal of probably constituting a shocker for all those who identify their entire career with sequencer-based electronic tantrism. 

Sturm und drang, bitches.

V.A. - The Last Nightingale (1984, EP)

A various artists EP produced by avant-everything Chris Cutler's Recommended Records in support of the miners' strikes of the 80's in the UK, and most notable for containing two original tracks combining the mighty forces of Robert Wyatt and part of the Henry Cow combo (along with a reprisal of the latter's Bittern Storm and two readings of Adrian Mitchell's poetry, which are not so likely to stick with you; all of it fronted by Ralph Steadman's bleak cover art and sprinkled with Peter Blegvad doodles). 

Other considerations aside, that might seem like slim musical pickings at first; but those two sharp shards of sonic and political unrest have yet to be reinstated and given their proper place in either contributors' towering catalogues (how did they not feature in the second disc of Wyatt's Different Every Time, anthologizing his collaborative work, is quite puzzling) while, their obscurity notwithstanding, they stand head and shoulders with the finer things in both of them. 

All in all, it's a most effective antidote for when you get cynical about musicians trying to save the world through good intentions and bad songs, and a perfect example of the Rock in Opposition ethos: activism in art should be the opposite of artistic compromise. 

Rendition, rendition, rendition

Glaxo Babies - This Is Your Life (1979, EP)

On paper, this EP may appear to have quickly become completely redundant, as all of its tracks reappeared shortly after its release on the odds and sods Put Me on the Guest List LP (1980); except, they mostly did in rather inferior form. In the former they were alive, piercing post-punkish observations on the as subtle as wearing everyday mismatches between social and subjective life ("This is your life / Crying in the subway / Lying to your wife" always feels like an indictment to me, despite my being a very good boy); in the latter they sounded bloodless, stripped, dubbed up and slowed down, like contrived artistic statements on anomy (what difference a little tempo change can make); so, I will take this short release over that whole LP any day of my emotionally hampered life. If you're gonna wish for the downfall of society, say it like you mean it.