Sayhitolisa

by Joshua Brown

Sayhitolisa, from Cambridge, MA, who are essentially hat-tippers to the sentimental side of ’70s funk, are looking for a new bassist. They said so in the personal letter which accompanied their 7-inch promo, to explain why they’re not currently touring. They left a number to call for anyone interested, and it’s certainly not my place to tell you whether or not playing bass for Sayhitolisa is a good idea. But it got me thinking about the current state of the 7-inch vinyl format, and its possible future. My initial ego response was “Ah, so they want us to review this thing as well as hook them up with a bass player. And it’s not even on colored vinyl. The nerve of some people!”

After a moment of digesting the ensuing non-guilt at my silent slight on the do-it-yourself ethic, I regarded this thought as a stimulus/response-level reaction to 7-inch releases by unsigned acts with outdated black computer graphics, on Kinko’s colored paper, with band names that are probably a reference to somebody’s ex-girlfriend, etc. Since popular acts these days release vinyl singles sporadically as novelty items (or to show their artiness or alliance with those not fortunate enough to be on DGC – Kim, this one’s for you, baby!), as opposed to a decade ago when the Necros and A Flock of Seagulls were equally wont to put them out, the 7-inch format has essentially become an alternative to releasing a demo tape. Or has it?

To give a run-down of the stack of 7-inches I trudged through laboriously, I’ll start on either end of the quality spectrum and head forward to the middle. First, the demo-style releases (Question: If the only mags who still review demos are generally local ‘zines and death metal rags, what does that make Lollipop?).