Debris'

Chickasha, Oklahoma is not a place known for producing a lot of original proto-punk bands. In fact, there is, to our knowledge, only one: Debris’. Formed in 1975 by bassist Chuck Ivey, guitarist Oliver “Rectomo” Powers and drummer Johnny Gregg, the trio created some of the most art-damaged outsider rock ’n’ roll this side of MX-80 Sound.

When a local studio offered the package deal of ten hours for recording and mixing as well as pressing 1,000 LPs and two-color jackets, Debris’ came in well-rehearsed—nailing all eleven of their songs in just one take. In April 1976, the same month as Ramones’ debut album, Debris’ would release their lone record onto the world.

Opener “One Way Spit” could easily be mistaken for a lost KBD single—from Chuck’s bizarre count-in to the band’s trashy start-stop rhythms, unfurling a Dadaist flag around Johnny’s visceral vocals. On “Tricia,” a reference to the then-current Patty Hearst trial, Oliver’s gruesome groans are sardonically juxtaposed with an electric saw. These LSD-tinged tunes are a potent mix of Beefheart-ian controlled chaos and the genuinely weird avant-rock associated with the mid-’70s Cleveland scene.

Enhanced by analog synthesizers and electronic effects, the album sounds like Eno-era Roxy Music or Stooges’ Fun House buried deep in the red Oklahoma dirt. While punk would spark a handful of bands who boldly straddled the line between the primal and the experimental, the relatively unsung Debris’ were one of the first to do so.

Debris’ had a standing invitation to play New York at Max’s Kansas City and CBGB in 1976, although they never made it out of Oklahoma. The private-press edition of their self-titled album (also known as Static Disposal, which was actually the label name printed on the original front cover) has since become a collector’s item and is even namechecked on the infamous NWW list.