Eppelheimer volleyed over a real Hickory Farms basket. It was like seven or eight songs pushed together, with moods and styles exploding out of the different time signatures and keys. Every few seconds, I found myself thinking, “That doesn’t belong there.” Even after multiple listens, to try and glean its essence, I was still caught off guard, every time.
So “Newtown” by the Slits does a few important things for me. It turns the mix back away from the brink of total modern-composer madness, a pool in which I cannot swim. I think it captures a similar sense of the unknown as “Saigon Pickup,” albeit in a less chaotic way, through its layering of odd samples—“Newtown” uses the sounds of an ashtray banging, a spoon clattering, and a match striking to reference the drug use that the lyrics compare television to. Finally, like the aforementioned basket, this mix was turning into a real sausage fest.
This “rough mix” was unreleased until a deluxe edition of this album came out late last year. This version is about 40 seconds longer than the original, with certain elements pushed back or forward and a sound mix that’s more naked and crisp. Like “Saigon Pickup,” I find it slightly alien, somewhat unsettling, and totally mesmerizing.
m. joosse
