John Giorno, William Burroughs, Laurie Anderson, Philip Glass, Patti Smith, Allen Ginsberg, Frank Zappa

 A Dial-A-Poem Poets life-centering collection of different ensembles of speakers with and without instrumental music. Works by Amiri Baraka, William S. Burroughs, Jim Carroll, Jayne Cortez, The Four Horsemen (B.P. Nichol, Steve McCaffery, Paul Dutton, Rafael Barreto Rivera), John Giorno, Brion Gysin, Rose Lesniak, Ned Sublette. 

"Mutant Disco was the big thing downtown, and Giorno wanted a piece of it. The irritating ranting through a delay effect has now gone, and been replaced by irritating ranting in front of a group of session musicians yawning out some over-produced elevator disco. Who said Giorno was a poet anyway?...oh yes...himself!
Even Brion Gysin gets in on the dance poetry act, with some afro-beat nonsense, which drowns out Bri's thoughts on 'Junk'....nothing like a diversity of subject matter in a lifes work is there?
There are other mutant disco poetry attempts, namely the Jayne Cortez track, which features the truly awful trendy instrument of 1982,the dreadful Fretless Bass. If the motive was to get the public to listen to the words, which apparently they can't unless one puts a disco beat behind everything;then adding some fretless makes this member of the public skip to the next track.
There's some ironic country and western, about Gay Cowboys which is...uhm... bearable.But the piece de restistence is the 'you can not be serious' moment by the 'Four Horsemen'. It's this kind of stuff that reafirms the public view of artists as lazy, out-of-touch elitest piss-takers. Imagine stumbling into a primal scream therapy session with a middle income household in the suburbs(what you're doing there?I dunno? Burgling the place, maybe?). They break off from the screaming and ecstatic dancing to welcome you aboard.
"Come and Join us", says the one in the ethnicly inspired shawl invitingly.
Being of a polite dispostion, you accept the invitation and start waving your arms in the air awkwardly and emit a repressed,and slightly embarassed yell.They welcome you with eye contact and one of those insipid smiles Jehovah Witnesses have,then invade your personal space with....gulp!..body contact.....ugh!...(shudder)!
After the six hour session,you hand out your fake telephone number and e-mail address and leave.....never to mention this to anyone!..The kind of thing you do when you wake up hung over after a wild night of dancing in a mutant disco,in bed next to a morbidly obese balding shemale,with a memory lapse and your bottom hurts?Maybe the same goes for this album, except for the Billy Burroughs track of course,who can never do any wrong." Die or D.I.Y