The town of Chickasha, Oklahoma, might seem an unlikely birthplace of a seminal experimental proto-art-punk band set on pushing the boundaries of rock. In the face of indifference, and even redneck hostility, and lasting only a year, Debris' forged a small legacy with its D.I.Y. ethic and improvised playing style. Charles Ivey and Oliver Powers played various instruments in various bands for several years before the summer of 1975, when they approached drummer Johnny Gregg for a new band. Debris' was quickly launched and by September, they had the first of the four live gigs of their short existence. Their chaotic performance style and dark, quirky sound -- influenced by the Velvet Underground, the Stooges, Captain Beefheart, as well as English glam rock -- did not endear them to their Oklahoma City-area audiences. At one such show, a Battle of the Bands competition where 50 bands vied for a new sound system, Debris' came in dead last while a cover band took home the prize. At the same time, they took advantage of a 1,590-dollar promotional package from a sound studio, which provided ten hours of recording time and a 1,000 LP pressing. With the lofty ambition to "cut the ultimate record of the decade," they recorded material in two sessions in mid-December and the record was pressed several months later (since released on CD as Static Disposal with much bonus material). The band started to mail it out to various record labels and rock magazines as a demo in hopes of getting a record deal and to more fully realize their project. With early negative reviews and no local support, Debris' disbanded, ahead of their time and in the wrong place. Within a year, more favorable press appeared and CBGB even offered them a gig and a chance to cash in on the burgeoning New York punk scene, but it was already too late.
The sole and rare album by Debris', this recording was actually made as a sort of demo to solicit reviews and record company interest. It's ahead of its time, or perhaps more precisely out of sync with its time, in its collision of raw hard rock and vaguely psychedelic guitars, keening synthesizer effects, half-sung and half-yelped vocals, jarring power chords, minimal melodicism, and distressed, disturbing lyrics. The performances (and, frankly, sometimes the songwriting) have an improvised quality, no doubt spurred by the mere ten hours allotted to recording and mixing, though generally that works to the advantage of music such as this. Songs you can hum are thin on the ground. However, "One Way Spit," the largely instrumental "Female Tracks," and the strutting "Tricia" do have elemental punky riffs that are easier to get a handle on than the discombobulated speed-monolog of "Witness" and "Manhattan," the latter sounding like a post-punker's attempt to weave a hypnotic spell on a female object of desire.
http://www.allmusic.com/artist/debris-mn0001876500/biography
