Outlaw, outsider, downer sludgy schlock has a very specific collector base. And it's for that reason that new discs from the recorded past of America keep popping up. Much in the same way folks travel around collecting historic artifacts for pleasure, or their own vaults, some one kindly preserved enough material from a gentleman named Nicodemus that we, today, still have some tunes to listen to - thankfully.

Detroit has graced gleeful geeks with showers of music from soul to funk to garage and punk. And somewhere in the middle is Nicodemus. A raunchy, face tattoo sporting, gnarly, long haired biker outlaw who has recorded under his name for roughly forty years - and is somehow still going - has as interesting a past as anyone else.

Beginning as some sort of out of place session man for a certain soul label in Detroit, Nicodemus already knew that his only way through life was music. Nothing else, apparently, did it for him. But as he counts imbibing drugs and riding motorcycles as the only ways to quell his craziness, it's not too surprising. Somehow during the '70s, as the bulk of his original music was being recorded, Nicodemus didn't garner too much attention. And perhaps for this reason, he came to rely only upon himself and his buddy Matchez as a creative outlet. Playing in bands with other folks found Nicodemus unhappy with the ego factor - and that's pretty understandable. But Nicodemus and his cohort built their own studio and began setting to tape any and every musical idea that they could.

As a result of this insular recording process and limited exposure, there really isn't any definitive discography for the duo. Apparently, they've recorded on every format from LPs to singles and tapes and now mp3s. There have been enormous gaps between releases - and I can't say that I've been able to track enough down to comment on its consistency. But I was able to find a mid '80s release entitled Better Art Music over at Prog Not Frog.

The disc's cover belies its release date - and the music does as well. Psych in the mid '80s seems to overwhelmingly be given over to effete workouts of British tropes - not all of it, but the Paisley Underground...come on.

Coming from a biker, the tunes here are muscular, as to be expected. But that doesn't mean the songs here are dumb rock schlock regurgitating old tyme glories. The guitar shredding on "I'm Not Happy" is ample proof of that. But even if it weren't the album opener somehow finds a kraut groove as it adds some twisted guitar over top.

The oddest aspect to this, though, is that due to the detached nature of the recording and dissemination of this band, the Nicodemus and Matchez universe is only comprised of two folks. And it's really hard to imagine how each was able to lay down track after track to fill out each of these songs. Of course, there are some spacey sections that are clearly the duo mucking around in the studio. But this is really something that needs to be heard in order to be believed.