Given that the band in question acrimoniously parted ways at the midpoint of the `90s, it’s exceptionally rare that I’m ever able to relay that there’s “new shit from Cop Shoot Cop” in the offing. The last time was probably circa the release of 2016’s live DVD, New York Post-Punk/Noise Series: Volume 1, which captured the band circa 1993, playing in the storied basement of producer Martin Bisi’s BC Studios in Gowanus, Brooklyn. In 2018 and 2019, Martin Bisi himself released two LPs of former protegee bands celebrating his studio’s anniversary, featuring a couple of tracks by EXCOP, a quasi-reunion of Cop Shoot Cop, albeit with former SWANS bassist Algis Kizys filling in for Tod [A], who had expatriated to Turkey. That band even played live at late, lamented St. Vitus to celebrate those record releases, although their set was all-improvisational, kind of like the fabled “jazz odyssey” episode in This is Spinal Tap. Beyond those fleeting instances, new Cop Shoot Cop news, merch or activity of any kind is sadly as strenuously unlikely as the notion of Donald Trump ever credibly paying for any of his myriad crimes (sorry, just trying to keep things timely).
Rare and unlikely, maybe… but still possible.
Some weeks back, a gentleman from a label called Jungle Records reached out to me, looking to locate contact information for the elusive former commanding officer of Cop Shoot Cop, that being the aforementioned Tod [A]. Having noticed I’d posted what is probably the most recent interview with the man back in 2023, Jungle Records thought I might know how to get ahold of him. Evidently, Jungle has acquired what remained of Big Cat Records, the British indie label who first signed Cop Shoot Cop at the dawn of the `90s. I relayed that missive to Tod in Istanbul and things proceeded from there. For my part, I was rewarded with a review copy of the limited “Record Store Day” re-release of Cop Shoot Cop’s proper debut LP, Consumer Revolt, lovingly remastered and newly pressed on blue vinyl, which you can all expect to see hit discerning, RSD-participating shops this coming April.
As a brief aside, regular readers might remember my misgivings about Record Store Day, having previously renounced it as a shallow gimmick on some occasions. I changed my tune last year, you might remember, upon spying a lovely re-release of some Sisters of Mercy material, making me something of a filthy hypocrite. And while the notion of “limited editions” sometimes reeks of a quick cash-in, I firmly support the re-mastering, re-mixing, and re-releasing of any and all music by Cop Shoot Cop, regardless of any associations to Record Store Day or Arbor Day or whatever.
Anyway, I’m happy to relay that the re-release is slavishly faithful to the 1992 Big Cat edition of the album. Of course, the original album from 1990, on Circuit Records, boasted different cover art (featuring a different band logo superimposed over the visage of a deformed baby) and, if I recall correctly, a small poster with the LP. This new edition replicates the 1992 sleeve (“Now 15% More HATE!”), as well as the inner “bag,” replete with lyrics, a designation that “Tracks 4 & 12 were recorded at some piece-of-shit studio and doctored-up later somewhere else. (I mean, who really reads this crap , anyway?)” and that those in violation of copyright reservations “will be hunted down, imprisoned, and suffer a lingering death by torture at the hands of trained mercenaries.”
The vinyl itself is now a striking shade of blue. Why blue? I honestly don’t know beyond a hunch that, well, cops frequently wear blue, but that’s just me projecting.
Sadly, I am unable to report as to how this new vinyl actually sounds, just yet, as my teenaged son Oliver absconded with my turntable, not too long back. Once I’ve remedied that quandary, I’ll let ya know.
I will say this, though. This first full long-player by Cop Shoot Cop, which was prefaced by both the visceral Headkick Facsimile and the literally-blood-splattered Piece, Man (both technically “EP’s”), captured a still-nascent iteration of the band that was refreshingly unbothered by the notion of seeming inaccessible to the layperson. As such, their utilization of untethered noise comes unrestrained by any concerns for appeasing radio-programmers or offending the bean-counting sensibilities of any easily riled middle-management monkeys from the major labels. This is reflected in both the sound and the sentiment of this record. Speaking to my alma mater SPIN in April of 1991, Tod [A] said…
We’re vomiting back all the garbage – the stuff that passes for culture – that the media shove down our throats. It’s a revolt like in-your-stomach revolting. Everything now is preprocessed and predigested.
As such, standout tracks like “Lo.Com.Denom,” “Burn Your Bridges,” “Fire in the Hole” and “Eggs For Rib” (featuring a bassline allegedly swiped from Gilberto Gill’s “Girl from Ipanema”) pull absolutely no punches, but still manage to stay stubbornly musical at their core, despite the whirring, buzzing and clanky caterwaul they come couched in.
It should’ve been the sound of the future. Maybe it still is. Rediscover it now.
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