"I don't know, Brenda, some would say this is more whimisical fluff a la the Shaggs or the Legendary Stardust Cowboy.

I can't say I agree at all. All four of the songs [on the two band tape] are top-flight, eldritch strains just right for All Hallow's Eve. Dig Butterscott's cover of 'My Birthday Suit,' like Beat Happening meets Rockabilly, a very promising experiment. Or check their 'Sunny Day,' part of a long line of distinguished predecesors like The Zombies' 'Care of Cell 44,' or Keith's '98.6,' or Ray Davies' 'Willesden Green,' and maybe even a speck of 'Flowers In the Rain' by The Move. A beautiful mutation."
--Butch and Brenda, The Noise, October 1992, on a Butterscott/Milkfinger tape

"Butterscott opens things with 'My Birthday Suit,' which is a catchy pop tune that has an evil fuzzy guitar attack throughout--sorta like Jonathan Richman with its childlike innocence. Followed by 'Sunny Day,' which is a fluffy sugary song."
--What Wave, March 1993

Type of music: Crazy pop

"In the world of cassette artists, anything can happen. On these two releases, anything DOES happen. Ultra-clever artist Butterscott features great melodies and lyrics that are INSANE. In between the noodling and the doodling, it sounds like there are some pretty talented men twisting the knobs on this one. This sounds like what might happen if you crossed the Rudy Schwartz Project with the Beach Boys. Can you dig it?

Best tracks: 'Peter, Paul 'n Manson', 'Plunger', 'Bubblegum Man,' 'Run Back'"

--Don W. Seven, Baby Sue Music Review, Winter 1994

"One indictation this tape isn't going to be your run-of-the-mill demo is the 'Centerfold' take-off, 'Bubblegum Man,' followed by the sad, old, time-to-go-now, bloodshot-houndawg ballad 'Turn to Your Heart.'

What could be better? Well, then they cull a choice from the Psychedelic Hollies catalog, none other than 'The Games We Play,' and manage to make it sound like Byrds, Kinks, Monkees, and a dash of Jan and Dean the Boy Blunder thrown in for good measure.

'Toy Piano Blues' is good for a smile, especially the spoken-kazoo-sound chorus. 'Fruit-Flavored Rain' is just like 'Murder Mystery' overlapping 'Hey Mister Rain,' and someone had better pull The Velvet Underground's velvet coat. I'm sure they'd be real proud. I am.

"Hobbyhorse is like 'Day-O,' or maybe Buddy Holly Sings To Young 'Uns, replete with sly, ominous references to George Harrison and Mr. Ed.

At this point, our proud boys falter. If we were them, we would delete 'Run Back' (and also 'Kris Teen' and 'Silk Stockings') from the enevitably forthcoming CD.

They recover, though, and nicely, with a retro-fied hit-in-a-better-world gutslammer 'Come On Little Girl,' which is a take-off of that dopey but comfy La Bamba territory, done considerably better than anything Frank Zappa coughed up in that vein, and with considerably less bombast than Monoman for that matter. 'Best Move,' Nilsson-as-a-drunk cover, almost comes across as gilding the lily, particularly in the context of this already rarified atmosphere of Cream-of-Vaudeville Stew. 'The Ocean is Deeper Than the Sea' mines the same loquitur: monster territory as the Cramps (c.f. 'The Human Fly'); but the lyrics are a brillant burst of sustained inspidity; the same is true of their cover of 'Una Paloma Blanca.' ''Goldfish Song' has an intro that is a classic Bob Dylan takeoff; 'Frog Boogie' a.k.a. 'totally stupid twelve-bar blues' is  . . .interesting.

Then they ruin it with that cover of 'Silk Stockings.' What's next, 'Lipstick on His Collar?' Why do they do these things--why?

Because Butterscott are wreckers. For example, listen to 'Chain Store Chicken.' That song effectively puts Harry Belafonte on the back burner for hell-and-a-day.

Watch for their cover of 'Water Boy.'

'Riker's Island similiarly ruins the creepy, pompous pretension of Simon and Garfunkel for all time. I'll never be able to listen to 'Cloudy' with a straight face ever again.

Of course, being the contrary cusses they are, Butterscott puts what should have been the first song of the set dead last. I am referring to 'Bubblebosh,' the funniest travesty of classical music heard hereabouts since Gingerbutkis' rendition of The Sword Dance.

There's no getting around it; this has to be our tape of the month.

(25 out of 25, their highest rating)

--Butch and Brenda, The Noise 03/1993

Beat Happening meets the Shaggs to the power of the Holy Modal Rounders? The deconstruction of rock and roll? Something for future scholars of the genre to ponder endlessly? Or all of the above?

I don't know about that, but I do think they ought to send this off to the people who do 'Ren and Stimpy,' just in case they ever decide they want Ren's moronic nephew to sing 'He Is Very Pretty' after Stimpy licked all the hair off his back. Other pick hits include 'Hey Bitch': Jan and Dean on PCP rewrite 'Twist and Shout';  also, 'The Irish Song': Lucky Charms as Psycho Killer. Our message to Butterscott: don't ever change.

(15 out of 20)

--Butch and Brenda, The Noise 10/1993

Seven (!) albums on and Jonathan Scott & Co. still haven't mastered the delicate art of double-tracking the vocals. But did that ever stop them Beatles? Nosiree-bob! What Gloworm does prove is this band can now produce tunes that actually sound stage-ready, maybe even road-tested, without once sacrificing the "roll" for the "rock". Even Jonathan's well-founded bubbleyum infatuations seem more sturdy and less syrupy this time, 'specially on "Plasticine" and (Title of the Year!) "Jukeboxanne", while "Tomato Vendetta" and "Jo Beam" successfully tackle the twin terrors of Tone-poem and Electro-poop head on. But wait: That's Not All! Ever wonder what a Zeppelin/ Monkees collision would sound like? And whaddaya think Elvis and his Attractions could achieve if there were any under-40's left within their ranks? The answers, my friends, are all to be found on this one little tape...along with an absolute cracker entitled "Go Go Gumball" that deserves to win each and every Country Music Ass(ociation) award next year, by gum! [A Review of The Gloworm Disappears]

                Trust me: 20 years from now, some obsessive collectors in Europe are going to declare Jonathan
                Scott a cult hero, reissue all his cassette albums on CD, and wake up his mom while beating a path
                to his door and begging for a reunion tour. Meanwhile, Scott's band of psychedelic pranksters
                release at least two albums per year (this year they also did Live at Lunch, taken from a WMBR
                gig) crammed full of in-jokes, pop-cultural references, distorted '60s reflections, crafty cynicism,
                and ridiculously catchy tunes. Summer song of the year: "Blow Pop Sun," local references
                ("Hanging out at the Au Bon Pain/Listening to bad alt-rock bands") and all. [Review of St. Jon's Woody]

Won The Noise "Best Local Tape" in 1997 and second place in 1996 and 1998. Number #5 in T Max's Top 10 CDs of 1998.

And last and least . . .

"This is the biggest load of crap to ever be recorded by a 4-track machine. If only Bubblegum Man would choke on a nice wad and do us all a big favor! Furthermore--no, I won't review Grapefruit Juice either, you weirdo."
--Metronome, May 1993

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