Killing a fool on a hill

[Two nights ago I started writing a few paragraphs to append to yesterday's music post. Eventually I realized it wouldn't work unless it was shoehorned in as an extended parenthetical aside, something I had already done with a never-quite-satisfying Jefferson Airplane rant that has since been severely cut down. So this gets its own post, a postscript post, completing the transformation from simple playlist essay to seven-thousand-word mess. In two parts!]

There's something about the whole digital revolution that bothers me. I've read enough on the supposed rebirth of an era before 1967's Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Heats Club Band pushed the two-song single out of fashion. I understand the point being made, that people can now pick and choose their own version of what a band's single might be (predictably I went with "Ulysses" b/w "No You Girls" in place of Franz Ferdinand's Tonight and I was able to steer clear of much of Danger Mouse's irritating contributions to the Black Keys' Attack and Release by choosing "Same Old Thing" b/w "All You Ever Wanted"). But what I hoped the theory would prove to mean is that bands would realize albums don't count for much anymore, and instead of releasing twelve songs every year and a half they would release one or two songs every couple of months. And these would be really good songs. No filler… no place for it!

Unfortunately we're stuck with an outdated process where a record company chooses the lead single (which is all a lot of people will ever hear or care to own) and then the album comes out. Why not? It still works, thanks to radio stations being fine with playing what they're told and to the shiftless rabble who like what they're supposed to. I don't see the 1966 model limiting consumer choice but rather guaranteeing quality, assuming a band is worth a shit in the first place. People won't buy a new song just because it's new, but they will if it's good—and a more focused, immediate purpose could go a long way toward ensuring worth. (If not then Darwin readies ERROR 404, today's answer to the cut-out bin.) And you think it'd be pretty rewarding—artistically as well as financially—if people are excited about your newest release just months after the last one. Right?

Take Sgt. Pepper, for instance. It's a good album but not great, and maybe just OK. But how about this alternative 1967 sequence of Beatles releases? No albums or EPs, just singles:

1A. "Penny Lane"
1B. "Good Morning Good Morning"

2A. "Strawberry Fields Forever"
2B. "Lovely Rita"

3A. "Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band/With a Little Help From My Friends"
3B. "Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds"

4A. "Being for the Benefit of Mr. Kite!"
4B. "She's Leaving Home"

5A. "Magical Mystery Tour"
5B. "Within You Without You"

6A. "A Day in the Life"
6B. "It's All Too Much"

7A. "All You Need Is Love"
7B. "Baby, You're a Rich Man"

8A. "I Am the Walrus"
8B. "Blue Jay Way"

Let's compare this to reality. Between the "Strawberry Fields Forever"/"Penny Lane" double A-side in February and the Magical Mystery Tour EP in December, I've cut out a handful of songs that either suck ("Hello, Goodbye," "Getting Better") or would work better on a posthumous hodgepodge type of collection ("Fixing a Hole," "Only a Northern Song"). I'm also including one song recorded immediately after the Sgt. Pepper sessions but not released until 1969's Yellow Submarine ("It's All Too Much"). Clearly I'm no fan of Paul and his silly stories, sure, but I'm fair in realistically switching between him and John for who gets the A-side, along with the collective (and regrettable) disrespect for George in tossing him some B-side bones. But how about it? Eight singles spread out over eleven months, and every one a bona fide smash hit—a quality smash hit. (I don't care for "Penny Lane," "With a Little Help From My Friends" or "All You Need Is Love"—Paul's brilliant reprise here of "She Loves You" is his greatest contribution to the group—but I'm in the minority, so they are necessary.) So no filler, just like I said! And it should be noted that "All You Need Is Love"/"Baby, You're a Rich Man" was an actual release and that I've kept the "Sgt. Pepper"/"Friends"/"Lucy" continuity that works pretty well on the album.

("The White Album" is a whole other subject. You can slice it a hundred ways, discarding layers of excess and mediocrity until you're left with a handful of songs that are as good as anything they ever recorded. That's a lot of work and a lot of shit. Lucky for all that Electric Ladyland was released a month earlier.)

The Beatles were unique in many ways, and it's not kosher to assume many bands could succeed where they did. Certainly, record-label Luddites would never let out this amount of rope until it was proven to succeed, nor would increasingly important touring commitments allow for much recording/mixing flexibility. But it's a direction I thought artists might turn toward as the need for albums—in physical, digital or (x) form—gets pushed further behind us. Isn't $2 every four months better than $10 every eighteen? How does the music industry not embrace this? I cannot possibly be this smart all by myself. (I am.)

Of ones and zeros, Byrds and Groundhogs

Steve Albini was right. Years ago, Big Black's Atomizer LP (minus the weak "Strange Things") was issued on CD with the Heartbeat 45 and the Headache EP. This compilation was called The Rich Man's Eight Track Tape, as opposed to The Hobo's Diarrhea Smear, which is a collection of early Clash recordings. Included was a short, humorous Albini-penned essay about how compact discs (classy new medium of the time) would soon—like the eight-track tape, dig?—become an obsolete format, at which time they can remain useful for serving bacon-and-egg sandwiches. "Ptooff!" I remember thinking. "What can replace this? It's small and fairly durable, and it sounds good. Sure, portable CD-players are a pain in the ass and they go through batteries like diarrhea through a hobo, but there's really no room for improvement." Actually I didn't think that last part because I was eighteen years old and too busy stealing old-timey baseball hats to bother with future-vision hypotheses re: media delivery methods.

In the end, of course, that shiny bastard Albini hit the mark exactly. Fast-forward to an extended and ongoing transitional era, throughout which I've amassed a fantastic collection of MP3s. (What will replace those? This cloud business? Something that requires no storage device at all? Probably the latter eventually, right? And will headphones exist as we know them today?) Mostly because I'm not buying CDs much anymore, except to fill in some Coltrane gaps, and I'm ripping tracks off of ones I plan to sell. I realize more and more that I only listen to CDs when I'm doing something around the house and when we have people over. I maintain loyalty to too many still and so will probably hang onto what I consider essential for too long until I ask "Am I sure I can't just get by with Smell the Magic on my iPod?" (I have a hard-and-fast rule that nothing from my CD collection is allowed on my iPod, excepting only the seasonal borrowing of Run-DMC's "Christmas in Hollis" from their Greatest Hits. Speaking of which, in December 2006 I wrote of coming to grips with best-of CDs. Reading back on that now is quite startling, even more so considering it wasn't written in 1994. Quite a philosophical shift, as only nine of those remain.) Then there is the Napster-era bounty. Napster, Audiogalaxy, Kazaa Lite… the heady days of theft. (I'm too old to understand this torrents shit. Officious little pricks, indeed.) I can't say what percentage of my songs subverted the pay-for-this process but it's gotta be half, and only that low because my conscience has been getting the better of me lately. More on that later.

In transitioning from CDs to MP3s, songs graduate to my iPod in a very deliberate and time-consuming manner. I have however many MP3s on my computer at home, but I can't just drop them all into iTunes and copy them over to Sonik Truth II (the original Sonik Truth being my first iPod, which offers too little capacity and nowadays is used during yard work and rare gym visits). That would be too easy and, honestly, inaccurate. A few years ago I combed through all the files and edited each one's album name to reflect the original release. For example, "Berkeley Mews" by the Kinks should not read "The Kinks Are the Village Green Preservation Society (Special Deluxe Edition)" in the album field. It should read "Lola," because it was originally released as the flipside to that single. These are the problems I create for myself.

As I prepare to sell Belle & Sebastian's Push Barman to Open Old Wounds compilation (somewhere, MC Paul Barman is composing palindromes about varying degrees of Matador success), I plan to keep (among others) "Photo Jenny" but I have to properly label "Lazy Line Painter Jane" as its album/single name. You get it. But where it becomes annoying is with old blues songs and obscure psych tracks from the sixties. For instance, I have to learn that the non-album version of July's "The Way" (currently available on the reissue of the band's lone, eponymous album) was the B-side to the single "Hello Who's There?" And then—because iPods are all fancy-pants now and display album art—I have to track down a picture of that single sleeve. I'm not proud of this behavior but my collection is spotless, so actually I am proud. Damn proud. I just have a couple thousand more songs to go through, plus whatever ones I continue to buy/rip, and if the whole thing doesn't drive me to drink a bleach-and-thumbtack smoothie then I'll be finished one day, just in time for digital music to be replaced by the next big thing.

In the meantime, as I go through the files, I'm deciding that instead of perpetuating my crimes I'll replace the occasional track with a paid-for version, usually from Amazon's MP3 service (much better than iTunes, in my opinion). It's a case-by-case basis: mostly it comes down to whether or not something has been remastered, or if I plainly want to give my money to a particular artist. As in, a black group like Sam & Dave probably got screwed over a lot in their time. So I'll give them what I owe and probably more. It's only right, even if I'm naive to think they'll earn a piece of a 99¢ purchase in today's holy-shit-we're-fucked media complex.

On the opposite end of the justice spectrum, Jefferson Airplane (for example) will be OK without me thanks to the extravagance provided by the brain-fried fans of their wretched tootling. This band confounds me—they have some great early songs but were clearly too pleased with themselves ("I'm doin' things that haven't got a name yet!") to recognize how increasingly ridiculous they grew with each album. Who the hell writes a song called "Rock & Roll Island"? Grace, stop hollering so much, you fucking Nazi-baiter! Paul, you're a lousy singer and you write about goddamn spaceships! That Surrealistic Pillow cover photo is contrived and silly! After Bathing at Baxter's contains only four good songs out of eleven and is sprawlingly overrated! Crown of Creation sucks! Singing "motherfuckers" in the meandering "We Can Be Together" was a gimmick! Bark sucks! Long John Silver sucks, except for "Twilight Double Leader," which is the only good song you released in the four years since "Volunteers," which is the only good song on Volunteers—which otherwise sucks—and is the only good song you released in the two years since After Bathing at Baxter's, which, again, is overrated! Six people in a rock band is absurd! Shut up, Grace!

Pardon me. I last posted a music-in-review list back in January 2007. (Beyoncé was atop the charts with "Irreplaceable," a song I'd never heard until I just now listened to thirty seconds on iTunes. On its album cover she has the blank look of someone who would release a song called "Irreplaceable" as a single.) So "this year's" list covers from then to now. Of course, it doesn't consist solely of songs released since then, but new and old stuff that's turned my screw along the way. And, because we live in a world of TMZ this and sexting that, I'm not going to limit myself to a traditional eighty minutes of CD-fitting music like I did before. I'll just keep adding until I'm satisfied, and make an effort to fit everything together in some imagined chemistry. Let's just see how it all shakes out in terms of length—it's never easy to halt a frenzy. [Edit, after the fact: I have clearly created a boxed set rather than a simple playlist. Will boxed sets exist in the future? Will boxes?] Honestly, a good long playlist is nice to have if you're stuck in Cape traffic or your spouse is watching a Property Virgins marathon in the other room. I'll try to not get too carried away about each pick, randomly dumping all over reggae and assaulting artists with my word-fists and stuff. Anyway… god save these frightening new times!

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1. 13th Floor Elevators – Livin' On
From 1969's Bull of the Woods. I hate to be the guy who starts with a side-one-track-one but, dammit, some side-one-track-ones actually deserve to be side-one-track-ones. This has the perfect introduction to kick everything off—usually I'd choose something with a slower/longer buildup, in order to generate a mood or atmosphere, but this simple riff (the best ones are always simple) lays it all down in only six seconds before the vocals kick in. The horns remind me of the arrangements that were layered onto the Pretty Things' Emotions after the band thought they'd completed it. Since Woods was recorded and assembled in a haphazard way, I'm guessing the record company wanted to similarly "spruce things up" with some session hackery, but I like the effect. The lesson here: always submit to authority.

2. Black Mountain – Bicycle Man
What a rip-off! I don't care. If the Jam can go all Sean Puffy Diddy on "Taxman" then I won't fault anyone for redoing "No Fun." It even has a little saxophone straight out of Fun House. Don't worry, though, Iggy gets his revenge later. Anyway, I've got In the Future on CD and I almost went with "Tyrants" here until I remembered my implied rule about choosing only from my digital collection. I'm not going to make a conscious effort to include more women this year (2007's was pretty bad) but I hope I do a better job this time. The co-vocalist here helps, at least. Last time I incorrectly assumed a female backup vocalist on a Dead Meadow song and got yelled at by some dickless turd who didn't even have a blog I could visit and pick apart. "That's no woman doing backing vocals. That's Jason Simon." I seen this band on the TV so go pull your pud some more. Anyway, I'm trying to present a bit of a rollercoaster ride here, ups and downs, loose lap-belt anxiety, bare breasts for the still-cam. A good chunky rocker fit here to get the ride moving.

3. Ant Trip Ceremony – Pale Shades of Gray
And then Ant Trip Ceremony slowly drags you up the terrifying first hill. I always wish I would allow myself to enjoy the view… OK, enough with the rollercoaster shit. How far could I even have gone with that? Like, when I get to Ya Ho Wa 13 would that represent the googly-eyed park custodian who paws through people's barf looking for gold fillings? And then Royal Trux is when you're blocked from leaving the parking lot by an old sedan with a failed inspection sticker on the front and a DRILL BABY DRILL bumper sticker on the back? I think so. Maybe I should keep this up after all. (Nah.) Ant Trip Ceremony is one of those I discovered from Technicolor Web of Sound. What an amazing band. 24 Hours sounds like it was recorded in a well. I drink from that well.

4. Amnesty – Love Fades
Somehow this album (Free Your Mind and Your Ass Will Follow) came out in 2007. If you told me Amnesty used to hang with Tower of Power in '73 I'd believe you. Maybe they did, and this is a reissue of some old record? I'm too lazy to look it up.

5. Groundhogs – Split (Part 2)
Part of a side-long suite from the 1971 album Split. (I'll talk about suites later on.) My man George Brigman dug these guys and I do too. It's funny how many great defunct bands there are that I'd never heard of until the past few years. Makes me wonder (and look forward to) what I'll be uncovering in the next few.

6. Elliott Smith – Rose Parade
Let me start by saying I am not pandering to A. by including an Elliott Smith song—he's her boy. (She won't read this for a few months anyway, and by then I'll be writing of the frustration in locating usable JPGs of early Status Quo singles.) Not that I have any idea what I'm talking about, but I think Elliott is an enormously gifted guitar player. No one else really sounds like him. So I thought it was fitting to slot him after acknowledged guitar hero Tony McPhee from the Groundhogs. I know, I know, "Rose Parade" doesn't do much to emphasize his playing skills, but it's a beautiful song. At least I hope it is, because I don't pay attention to lyrics. Sounds nice, though. Except for the part about being "the only shit that's left behind." Maybe not so nice.

7. The Pentangle – Sally Free and Easy
Bert Jansch is a name I hear every now and then but I don't know much about him. I think I read a Mojo article once—maybe I should read it again and then dig a bit deeper. "Sally Free and Easy" is the one Pentangle song that TWOS plays. It is gorgeous.

8. Gil Scott-Heron – Whitey on the Moon (Live)
"It was inspired by some whiteys on the moon." How about the audience member who spoils the last punchline? I know, it's not really a punchline because he's saying it throughout the performance, but just sit tight, lady. The protracted silence following her interruption, as if he's giving her a good "I'll put your dumb ass on the moon" glare, is priceless.

9. Russell Morris – The Real Thing
I could write an essay about the wonder of this song but it would take me six months. Everything takes me six months nowadays, the way everything Girls Against Boys does seems to cost them twenty dollars. This might be the best thing Australia has ever produced, and that's not a knock on Australia because I'd be saying the same thing if Morris were American. The continuation of this song, "Into Paper Walls," is nearly as essential, but "The Real Thing" might just change your life.

10. People Under the Stairs – San Francisco Knights
I had to throw in a pun title because I hate puns so much and yet I have a knack with them. Curse my wit! I know the original "San Franciscan Nights" by the Animals, when Eric Burdon was going through an extended California-is-beautiful phase, but it's a different version sampled here for "Knights." Speaking of which, I can't recommend Who Sampled and Second Hand Songs enough if you're into shit like sample sources and cover versions, respectively.

11. Byrds – Eight Miles High
Since I've decided against including any Coltrane (or jazz at all, but jazz usually comes down to Coltrane for me) I'm choosing a song reputedly influenced by the man himself. Considering it's a mid-sixties pop band best known for covering Dylan I think they did a pretty good job. McGuinn even has a recurring theme and some passable sheets of sound going for him. The Byrds are one of those rare bands who tried a bunch of different shit, and good for them that most of it stuck. (I don't like their country-ish stuff but I generally don't like country music, so that tells me they probably nailed it.) Still, with all the great music they produced up through The Notorious Byrd Brothers in early '68, it will always be the Gene Clark era that does it for me.

12. Stooges – Penetration
So I have Iggy's remix of Raw Power on CD (of course) and I just picked up the double-disc remaster of Bowie's original mix. I plan to rip that one to my iPod and then sell it (sorry boys). I think it's the perfect compromise: Iggy's mix is better when played loudly in your living room and Bowie's mix is better on headphones. So that's how I justify owning two versions of the same album. With "Penetration," there seems to be a little less going on in this Bowie mix (most notably the buried xylophone) but it feels darker. Side note: hammered home in the live Georgia Peaches set included with this reissue (as well as on Metallic KO/Metallic 2xKO) is the fact that piano player Scott Thurston might be the most farcical backup singer ever.

13. John Mayall & the Bluesbreakers – Another Kinda Love
Aynsley Dunbar must be a superior asshole. This guy was in and out of so many bands his Wikipedia page reads like a white baby boomer's wet dream. Aside from some top work with John Mayall (he plays on this track from A Hard Road) my favorite thing of his has to be 1968's "Warning" by the Aynsley Dunbar Retaliation, a great song made even better when covered on Black Sabbath's first album a year or so later.

14. Can – Uphill
You know what's harder than going uphill? Listening to a humongous playlist at the office, pausing your work every few minutes to jot down brilliant insights into what you've just heard. It's like my softball game last week where I kept on crushing the ball (or at least hitting it away from fielders) and it seemed I was constantly running the bases. Toward the end I seriously contemplated making an out on purpose just to get a breather. Plus, I had to cut off the beer until afterward because I can't run for shit and I was slogging around enough on my own. Anyway, this playlist business is a lot like that. I want to quit, but I'm too good. Moving uphill. Going slowly. (But moving nonetheless.)

15. Dragonfly – Blue Monday
"Oh… my god." Thus begins "Blue Monday," another gem I first heard on TWOS. It's much better than it reads, sounding like the dude just witnessed his own death at the hands of an angry diarrhea-covered hobo. As with Ant Trip Ceremony's 24 Hours, I can't recommend Dragonfly enough. And they're both from 1968. Of course they are!

16. Madvillain – Strange Ways
Not a whole lot of rap so far. Not much more after this either. It's a challenge to make rap songs work on mixes—transitions of anything into and out of rap are difficult to get right. Anyway, I remember reading all this great press about Madvillainy when it came out, and I loved the album cover, but I only thought to check it out a couple of years ago. I bought a few songs and they're good so I'll probably buy more. Gentle Giant's "Funny Ways" sounds a little sped up but it's already plenty weird on its own.

17. Dungen – Bortglömd
I got into these guys when "Sätt Att Se" from the album 4 was available as a free download somewhere a couple of years ago. "Bortglömd" wallops you right away and ends too soon. In general, the singer's voice might take some getting used to. But it's worth the time, particularly if you're wondering what mainstream progressive music could have become outside of Keith Emerson, Jeff Lynne and Rick Wakeman going all keyboardy batshit. My Swedish friends at Wikipedia tell me the title of this translates to either "Forgotten" or "Neglected." I find that hard to believe because umlauts are nothing if not triumphant.

18. Pink Floyd – Wot's… Uh, the Deal?
I'll pit early Pink Floyd (up through Obscured by Clouds, where this song lives outside of ridiculously self-indulgent three-hour playlists) against any of their contemporaries and choose the Floyd almost every time. The Stones and the Kinks were consistently better from '67 to '72… who else? [In retrospect, I can't think of any band beside these three whose career spanned '67 to '72. My bad. But shit, I even like Animals.]

19. Shadows of Knight – Someone Like Me
"Hey!" Infectious—these guys sneak up on you every time. They are good and it's odd that you don't hear more about them. They never get airplay, except in The Underground Garage and in niche college shows like WZBC's Psychotic Reactions and WMBR's Lost and Found. They had a couple of hits and showed up in the Nuggets series a few times. They could also out-Yardbird the Yardbirds when they wanted to. So I've given them a bunch of my money.

20. Sharon Jones & the Dap-Kings – What Have You Done for Me Lately?
Uh-oh, still some shameful misogyny all up in here. Better start representing. But seriously, don't ninety-nine percent of female singers sing about men? Not so much about pestilence and milky cereal. And these men they're going on about, they're either sweethearts or dogs. And wouldn't you know it, Sharon Jones is singing about a no-good dog! It's like I set myself up, I do cursory research for one-sided evidence and then I prove myself correct in my own forum. It's the oldest story.

21. Camera Obscura – If Looks Could Kill
Not a Heart cover. It only took me an hour or so to get to an honest-to-goodness pop song. It's impossible to resist "If Looks Could Kill," just like it is the Crüe's "Looks That Kill." Appears I've found me a formula, baby.

22. Aliens – Magic Man
Also not a Heart cover. I added "Magic Man" after hearing it on my iPod on the way home from work the other day. I think you'll agree one more "fun" song was needed, particularly because it sets up a little Scottish block alongside Camera Obscura. "Magic Man" should appeal to the kids who don't get the whole Lady Gaga thing but still want to bob their heads.

23. Jay Reatard – It Ain't Gonna Save Me
I had his Watch Me Fall as the best of 2009 in a pointless post from January before dropping it in favor of the Flaming Lips, and then Jay Reatard went and died. But he doesn't give a shit so it's cool. He'll be missed by people who like to buy a bunch of singles only to see them all compiled a year later.

24. Sir Lord Baltimore – Hell Hound
Hey, I always require at least one ridiculous song in the bunch. Riffage! I luuuurrrve this song, and the entire Kingdom Come album. "Woman is a hell hound!" Another standout pronounces "woman, you are the master heartache." That one is called "Master Heartache." You get the idea. I wrote recently that Sir Lord Baltimore is the only good rock band to come out of Brooklyn and a steady stream of soulless no-talent It bands continues to prove me right.

25. Kills – U R A Fever
This is the type of band I usually resent on principle. Can't look cool enough on the album cover, over-stylized breathy trade-off vocals and what I suspect is a "DIY" sound that took them weeks to achieve. But… what happens if I actually do like this song? Am I bamboozled?

26. Loop – Too Real to Feel
Though I did pony up and download some legal Spacemen 3 and Jesus & Mary Chain in the last year or so, I'm choosing Loop to represent the eighties wall-of-guitars genre. Found these guys at Anthology Recordings, who sold this to me for 98¢ instead of 99¢ on iTunes. Up yours, Steve!

27. Automator – Cartoon Capers
Who knows how many pseudonyms guest MC Kool Keith has had over the years, but I've got to give it up for "Sinister 6000." It might be my favorite. The hilarious, engrossing "Cartoon Capers" is from the expanded "much better" reissue of Automator's A Better Tomorrow EP, a quasi-collaborative project that led directly to Dr. Octagon later the same year (no bumbling Sir Menelik accompaniment here though). How did it take until '96 for someone to cast Skeletor as a crime boss?

28. Lee Hazlewood/Ann-Margret – It's a Nice World to Visit (but Not to Live In)
I don't know if the guitar is so distorted on purpose or if it was just poorly recorded (or preserved). I wouldn't change a thing. Hazlewood's collaborations with Nancy Sinatra get all the attention (and they should, because "Some Velvet Morning" and "Summer Wine" are luscious) but don't overlook this one (sans Hazlewood vocals, though). Ann-Margret tries to sound tougher than she is and doesn't quite pull it off, but even that works.

29. Junior Kimbrough – Meet Me in the City
One lo-fi song follows another. iTunes says "Meet Me in the City" is from a "noisy and hazy-sounding" 1992 home recording. I respond "Screw you, I downloaded it for free from the Fat Possum site." What's with all the iTunes rage?

30. Whyte Boots – Nightmare
A message to anyone who has tried to develop drama in pop music: you will never, ever top this song. It packs all the tragedy of opera into 2:45 and makes "Leader of the Pack" sound like a Cream of Wheat jingle. I love the Greek chorus effect, and the bird-like "Ohhhhhh! Ohhhh! Ohhhh!" at the climax gives me the chills every time. "It's all my fault she's dead." A goddamn masterpiece.

31. Chain & the Gang – Interview With the Chain Gang
Had to lighten the mood after what happened with Bobby's former and current (well, now former) girlfriends. Everything Ian Svenonius records makes me laugh ("Diary of a Genius," anyone?). Perfect mixture of genuine (I think) political/artistic values and an ability to make fun of himself. "What's my stance? You know, I like to dance." Gold. For no reason at all I'll note that this is the second telephone-sound-effect song after "U R A Fever." Will somebody answer that damn phone?

32. Six Finger Satellite – Half Control
Frequent readers (!) know how much I like Six Finger Satellite. I'll try to keep my pants on. The new/old/awesome Half Control (recorded in 2001 but only released last year) is still in my regular rotation. (The real new one, A Good Year for Hardness, is good too but not as consistent.) Hot title track action!

33. Mr. Lif – Welcome to the World
I think it's pretty cool that my two favorite rappers (Lif and Edan) are from Boston. Not that I live in Boston anymore. Don't you love when you meet people at Clark's Trading Post in New Hampshire who say they're from "Boston" but when you ask what "part of town" they live in they tell you Melrose or something? I don't necessarily blame those who hate people from Massachusetts.

34. Ofege – It's Not Easy
I snagged this on eMusic from the Forge Your Own Chains compilation. One of the reviewers called it "an irresistible swirl" of "Hey Jude" and "Oh! Sweet Nuthin'" and I have to say that's pretty spot-on. I'll throw in "Dear Mr. Fantasy" too, because I'm a Traffic dork.

35. Shocking Blue – Send Me a Postcard
I think "Send Me a Postcard" was in a movie I saw recently. I had a hard time deciding between it and "Love Buzz," but I didn't want all my readers (!) to think I chose that one in a bald attempt to show off. "Ever hear of a little band called Nirvana? Their first single was a Shocking Blue cover. Also, give a listen to 'Rainbow Chaser' by the original Nirvana. 1968. You're welcome." Asshole.

36. Rocket From the Tombs – Transfusion (Demo)
I could have chosen anything from The Day the Earth Met the Rocket From the Tombs. It's one of the best things I've bought all my life. Members went on to form Pere Ubu and the Dead Boys, but the original RFTT rehearsals ("Sonic Reducer," "30 Seconds Over Tokyo," etc.) smoke the official later recordings.

37. Funkadelic – I Wanna Know If It's Good to You?
I put a shortened version of this song (from a comp I had called In Yo' Face! The History of Funk, Vol. 1) on a college mixtape of "oldies" called I Am a Tired Old Woman, but the album version is one hundred percent better—basically the "Part 1" single and its "Part 2" B-side grafted together with some extra stereo effects added in. Anyway, I have a distinct memory of listening to this song while cruising down Storrow Drive on my way home from work one night years ago. When I got home I probably opened a Harp, put on some Blues Explosion and played Dark Forces II: Jedi Knight on my PC. I was a real winner.

38. Ya Ho Wa 13 – Camp of the Gypsies
Welcome to the weird block. It helps to have blocks when dealing with this many songs. Every time I see the Magnificence in the Memory cover I fear the picture of Father Yod is a cock. I'm sorry about that. He is intercoursing a woman on the front of I'm Gonna Take You Home though, so don't think it's out of nowhere. Probably not an accident, either.

39. The Red Krayola – The Jewels of the Madonna
I like that these guys changed the spelling of "Crayola" under legal pressure from the crayon company, and then eventually said "Fuck it" and went back to the C. I also love how the (totally shitty-sounding) two-fer CD of their first two albums mistakenly calls the second one God Bless the Red Krayola and All Who Sail on Her (instead of …With It). Must have been a navy man done that.

40. Amon Düül II – Archangel Thunderbird
Remember when we were bouncing around to Camera Obscura? We've come a long way, baby. Amon Düül II is what happens when you're browsing eMusic for psychedelic music—it's like shopping for aspirin at Target and going home with a case of glue.

41. The Olivia Tremor Control – Green Typewriters (Part 1)
Weird block over. Maybe? I like this band but I suspect they're strange for strangeness's sake. This song is taken from Dusk at Cubist Castle, where it's part of a ten-song "Green Typewriters" suite. Only it's not "Green Typewriters (Part 1)," "Green Typewriters (Part 2)," etc. Each part is just called "Green Typewriters." Why? Just to be annoying? If it's so important that "They're all part of one big piece, man" then just make it one long track, man. I have their later (really good) album Black Foliage on CD and it's a good thing, because even though silly little "songs" like the four-second "The Sky Is a Harpsichord Canvas" are necessary (in that the tracks all run into each other) it would drive me nuts every time one of them popped up on shuffle on an iPod. There are only so many times you can elect to skip stuff when shuffling before you wonder why you shouldn't just delete that shit. If they produced a series of short tracks called "I Am Collecting Mad Royalties" then maybe I'd understand.

42. Royal Trux – The United States vs. One 1974 Cadillac El Dorado Sedan
For some reason you can't download much Royal Trux. The self-explanatory 3-Song EP is excellent, especially for $3 on Amazon. And yes, "The United States vs. One 1974 Cadillac El Dorado Sedan" is as good as the title suggests—basically four minutes of straightforward Royal Trux and three of spacey Royal Trux. The result? My favorite Royal Trux song.

43. UFO – Evil
The last song I added. I can't believe I almost forgot about it—"Evil" got me thinking about the whole digital thing in the first place. I first heard it about a year and a half ago, parked outside the condo A. and I came thisclose to buying before walking away. (We were waiting for the seller's agent to show up so we could check out a couple of things. She turned out to be as annoyingly pushy as the seller was indisputably insane.) Anyway, I think it was WMBR that played this at like 8:30 on a weeknight—that's what I love about college radio. What happened next is the perfect marriage of old, new and newer: liking something on the radio, checking the station's website for a playlist to see what it was and then buying it on iTunes (I couldn't find it elsewhere). Kudos to UFO for knowing exactly what I like—moderate fidelity, a chunky bass- and drum-driven riff and lyrics about an evil woman who won't get down with you after a long day. Also, their first album is called UFO 1. Confidence!

44. Charizma & Peanut Butter Wolf – My World Premiere
Really crammed this in here. But I love the drum loop—adds some excellent old-school flavor (this was recorded in '91 or '92 but not released until '96, and then again in '03 on the Big Shots album). Also eases some where's-all-the-rap? tension and almost makes up for the fact that EPMD's "Get Off the Bandwagon" was a late scratch. Almost.

45. Muddy Waters – She's Alright
I hope you've made it this far because I'd hate for you to miss this Electric Mud highlight. Late last year I heard it on WZBC while driving into Boston one evening and it seconded the "Evil" progression I related above. Anyway, Muddy Waters was so relevant for so long it's scary. Some might accuse him of leaning toward whatever was popular and then disowning it afterward, but if it produces great music then everyone should be happy, right? Nice little "My Girl" shout-out at the end. [Later: So I just streamed the Black Keys' upcoming album Brothers on the NPR site (I'm not an NPR guy, I just happened to read about the promo) and its "She's Long Gone" is basically a rewrite of "She's Alright." Keeping the Led Zeppelin—and, apparently, Rod Stewart with "Cindy's Lament"—tradition alive! Can I pick 'em or can I pick 'em?]

46. Small Faces – The Autumn Stone
Like I wrote about the Byrds, the Small Faces were not afraid to go in different directions. But where the Byrds were really serious and uptight, the Small Faces had a lot of personality and were not afraid to use humor in their music. This gives their rare quiet, introspective stuff like "The Autumn Stone" and "Become Like You" some real weight. Funny that they and Cream are two of my favorite bands and they both flamed out so quickly. Maybe I have a short attention sp

47. Shellac – The End of Radio
Albini almost gets the last word but not quite! That would have been too predictable. Last word in English though, I suppose. Muddy Waters referenced the Temptations and Shellac does the same with the Modern Lovers' "Roadrunner." Everyone likes to sing about 128 but no one likes driving on it, as I'll be doing in a few hours. Drag.

48. Os Mutantes – Ando Meio Desligado
As I end on a Brazilian note I'd like to state how proud I am that I've included a handful of songs by international artists and not one of them can be considered "world music." Wikipedia (in which I clearly place too much trust) says "Ando Meio Desligado" roughly translates to "I feel a little spaced out." You bet your ass I do, after forty-eight songs and three-plus hours. So I'm ending the way I began, with a side-one-track-one. Final thrill of the ride. Personal electronic devices are not allowed. No cutsies. You must be this high to blow your mind. Don't forget your backpacks. Etc.

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In closing [Edit: Not quite! Have some more words.]: we've got fourteen songs from the sixties (half that from 1968 alone… shocker!); thirteen from the seventies (six from 1970); only one from the eighties; seven from the nineties; thirteen from the aughts; and nothing from 2010. With the way we're heading—digital awakenings and all—maybe a self-aware iPod can do the heavy lifting for me next year? Be afraid.

More furious madness: Volume 1

A joke on you and me

You know when you keep reading about some album or other, and people are pissing all over themselves to douse the lava-flames of awesomeness that emanate from said album, except they like being engulfed by the overhyped lava so much that they don't panic when they run out of pee? They just drink more water? Except they do it carefully enough so that they don't spill any and cool the lava? Do you know this? Society says you're supposed to welcome the awesome death-flames because everyone else does. Well I'm going to say it: to hell with being burned by lava! To hell with skin grafts! To hell with The Marble Index!

Nothing bothers me more than someone claiming to like something because it's supposedly cool to do so. I am not cool, and I don't care to be. Who do I need to impress? Fitting in with the crowd is for chumps. Same thing goes for those who dislike something because it's popular. Who cares? I had similar rants in my anti-Clash diatribe and 1997 mixtape review. And then last month I picked Led Zeppelin's first album as the best one released in 1969—they are one of the most popular bands around, and a lot of assholes love them, but I'm not going to stop loving them because of that (though I'd be shocked if these assholes like "How Many More Times" as much as I do). Again, who cares?

I was reading Mojo awhile ago and it reviewed a reissue set of The Marble Index and Desertshore. I knew of both but was pretty sure I'd never heard anything off of either one—I own and enjoy her Chelsea Girl, though Mojo (and Nico) seemed to think it's a lightweight affair. Wikipedia tells me that Nico could never listen to it, "becust everyting I vanted for dat record, zey took eet away. I ast for drums, zey said no. I ast for more geetars, zey said no. Und I ast for simpleecity, und zey cover eet un flutes! Ze first time I hert ze album, I cried und eet vas all becust uff ze flute." Fuck all that—it's a good album and I am all over that flute. (As an aside, check out the band Ant Trip Ceremony for excellent sixties flute-playing. That is some sweet action!) I downloaded "I'm Not Sayin'" the other day, the Gordon Lightfoot cover that was her first single, and that's a great song too. I can see how she might have felt molded into something she wasn't on that one, but whatever, I like it. "Eef you luff me." And while she wasn't happy to be pushed around on Chelsea Girl, it's a fairly challenging album—not too many underground (at the time) performers were getting away with longer songs on major-label releases in '67. It's more challenging than her handful of tracks on The Velvet Underground and Nico, anyway.

I know what you're thinking: how can I enjoy a song like "It Was a Pleasure Then" and not find a redeeming quality in anything on The Marble Index? The answer is, I don't really know. I can appreciate that one for the same reason I enjoy some Ya Ho Wha 13 songs, I guess, in that it's far out but there's a definite organic feel to it. Everything on The Marble Index sounds like it was made in a lab by people who don't know what laughter is.

I went ahead and… acquired… the album for the sole purpose of discovering whether or not I liked it. As you've undoubtedly inferred, I think it's a pile of soulless crap. There are few seconds of anything traditionally enjoyable, admirable or artful. Go ahead and tell me I don't get it, because you're right. I un-get it so badly that upon hearing it I immediately feel the need to wash myself with The Mirror Man Sessions for eighty minutes.

Society as a whole doesn't have a blog. But I do, and I even write things sometimes. So let me tell you what's not to like—here's the breakdown, LP-style:

Side A
Prelude
Lawns of Dawns
No One Is There
Ari's Song
Facing the Wind

Side B
Julius Caesar (Memento Hodié)
Frozen Warnings
Evening of Light

A1. Prelude
Coincidence that one of the better songs on the album is one minute long? Absolutely not. It reminds me of Christmas, and I like the sloppy edit at the end. Really lets you know it's a downhill fire-piss ride from here. The biggest mark against it is that it's first on the album and not last, and so there are seven assholes left to listen to. By the way, what did John Cale ever do that was so great? Sure, some innovative and exciting bass, viola and keyboard work with the Velvet Underground (he steals "Sister Ray") and a classic reading of "The Gift." What about the forty-two years since? What's worth seeking out? I'm asking because I don't know. Sure, the Velvets got worse after he left, but he got a lot worse. (I guess the same could be said for Lou Reed, but at least he recorded "The Blue Mask" and has been entertaining us with his Imhotep impression for twenty years.)

A2. Lawns of Dawn
I'll admit this song isn't bad, and progresses interestingly enough (aside from the vocals), but then the whole rest of the album just straight-out copies its example. (As in, I really like Pulp Fiction but I hate everything it influenced.) It is, however, the only song with any actual dynamism, and the novel idea of a beginning and an end. I understand it's this whole minimalist philosophy but to me that only means you're limiting yourself, you're in a hurry or you're dull.

A3. No One Is There
I like when bands record songs and slap on non-sequitur titles, something like Shellac's "Watch Song." That one's about wanting to fight some guy but where's with the aforementioned watch? Shellac has a sense of humor, so probably someone's watch broke while they were recording it. Or maybe someone stole one of their watches one night, and they're appealing to us to keep our eyes open for it the way they did for Bob Weston's coat on "Mantel." So there are the non-sequitur people, and then there are people who name a song after a chorus or repeated phrase from said song. Unwound's "Fingernails on a Chalkboard" is a great example of this, and the funny thing about that is I knew the phrase was going to be repeated throughout the song just from reading the title on the back of Repetition the day it came out, to the point where the only explanation is that I had to have heard it or read about it somewhere beforehand. (I also knew "Go to Dallas and Take a Left" was going to be an instrumental. The shine??) I can't tell you how many times he says "fingernails on a chalkboard" in the middle of that song, but see? Unwound has a sense of humor too—just ask Tom "Hindu Holy Men" Jones. Nico does not. She's German, so maybe it's not her fault. And, as you might have figured by now, no one is there. All uff them are missink.

A4. Ari's Song
I understand the point of this album was probably to break Nico out of her shell as, like, an unknown beautiful woman who may or may not have talent. I remember in either the Velvet Underground biography Up-tight or some in-depth magazine article there was a bit where she was complaining about her performance of "I'll Keep It With Mine" on Chelsea Girls, where she's saying "But I want to sound like Bubbee Deelan!" Later it documented how she ended her romantic relationship with Reed by telling him "I can no longer fuck a Jew." Anyway, she had a kid named Ari. This is his song. Sail away, Ari! You're free now! Unless you're dead, I don't know.

A5. Facing the Wind
This is the worst song I've ever heard. The piano-playing has so much not-soul it reminds me of the time my friends and I were inexplicably watching a video of a Nine Inch Nails performance (?) and one band member accidentally (you know, amid the chaos and nihilism of a Nine Inch Nails performance) knocked over his keyboard, and we could see that a couple of keys were taped down. The electrical tape had more passion than whoever (probably Cale) is striking this poor piano like it's a dead calculator. I think the recording engineer shoots himself at 3:22. Rest in peace, recording engineer.

During this welcome interval, let's discuss the rest of the people and/or things who drive me crazy with their undeserved popularity: the Pretenders (she gets a pass because she's a supposed tough chick with a cool haircut who writes her own songs, even though her songs suck and her band makes them sound even worse); Patti Smith (whose utter nonsense, shitty vocals and ugliness I will never enjoy, and like Chrissie Hynde her band is historically cheesy-sounding—hubby Fred's "City Slang" dances on the unattended grave of everything she's ever done); Heineken (I have nothing in common with people who enjoy this piss and it's evident that, for the most part, I no longer trust green-bottle beers); television ratings (have you ever met someone from a Nielsen family?); English bands who can only sing about English things (the Kinks are the exception that proves the rule); so-called Brooklyn "rock bands" (you can't name me one quality non-rap group from this overrated-in-every-sense-even-though-I've-only-been-there-once-maybe-twice borough other than Sir Lord Baltimore, and even they only had one great album); Brooklyn Brewery beers (see previous item); regular-season winning-streak records (thanks, Peyton, for validating the utter dominance of the Patriots over the last eight years); meteorology (I was happy to be able to leave work at 1:00 yesterday as the company went into panic mode but we got maybe a half inch of snow last night, as opposed to the "six to twelve plus" they'd been predicting for a week); Stephen Merritt and all his sad-sack bands (a long time ago I saw the Future Bible Heroes open for someone at TT the Bear's and he psychologically raped his fellow bandmates for a bad half hour—what a miserable prick). Enough already, all of you. And hey, LaDainian Tomlinson? You missed this list because everyone finally recognizes your plummeting skills and understands that you're a total punk bitch. Here we go with side two.

B1. Julius Caesar (Memento Hodié)
Picking up with the second side, I'm noticing that—strangely enough—these songs would have been better served as a single suite taking up a full side of the LP. They are boring and share a general Teutonic gloom, and this is the only thing that could make them work. "The Celebration of the Lizard" is the most ridiculous thing ever recorded but it hangs together precisely because it's hung together. Excepting "Not to Touch the Earth," which I still really like (don't get me wrong, I enjoy "The Celebration of the Lizard" in its entirety), no individual song has a whole lot to offer. But they somehow pull it off as one piece with the snake and the tribes and whatever he's mumbling about. From that point of view, The Marble Index could possibly work. The other side of the record could then be a bunch of Creedence covers.

B2. Frozen Warnings
I guess I don't mind this song too much. It borders on pretty, even. But it's the same goddamn thing, endlessly. Again. Maybe everyone does that (I don't pay attention to lyrics), but it's so prominent with her manner of singing. "Close to ze frozen borderline." I get it.

B3. Evening of Light
Smack in the middle of this song (a real charmer!) some nice guitar/bass/strings interplay starts bleeding in. It's quite good. But she's busy singing about jumping children and the end of time and so it's all for naught. I do really like the last twenty seconds of this, and it's fitting because it's the last bit of The Marble Index I'll ever listen to. Never again, Nico. Your lava drowns in my pee.

Saw that big-time James Cameron flick this weekend

I have to say I was impressed, it's a fresh take on a wonderful original idea. Many say the special effects steal the show, and that the narrative suffers from too many action-movie clichés, but I happen to like action movies. And yeah, the special effects are stunning.

So there's this alien planet. Humans have "colonized" there, not sure for how long but they are pretty well established with infrastructure, and are aware of how to survive and navigate the atmosphere and geography. Overt signs of hostility between the humans and the alien race they encounter are present, but that doesn't matter to the slimeball representative from "The Company." He only cares about harvesting something, likely for use as a weapon based on most everything the human characters bring to the story—this is clearly a military operation first and a scientific one second.

Cameron knows armaments, or at least has a futurist's grasp of armaments. Personnel vehicles too—you can see the roots of those transport ships back in The Terminator. He gets into combat tactics as well, and thankfully realizes that all the technical flair in the world can't always defeat a determined enemy with home-field advantage. (I love how the human troops only seem capable of looking straight ahead and not up and down, particularly since they were eventually decimated by an overhead attack.)

Alien was a slow-burning thriller and I think this film works just as well in its own way. Indeed, it holds up after almost twenty-five years—Aliens is that good.

Hey, we saw Avatar the other night too. It was pretty good.

The wait begins

I was going to save this amazing juxtaposition for my year-or-two-in-music review but I've lost confidence that I can cram it in without… well, cramming it in. We know Ice is hiding an Uzi, but what about Ditto? I bet it's a pizza. Mmm.

On deck are said review (which could also detail the death of the compact disc; that's where Power and Movement come in) and the Marble Index bash-o-rama I mentioned once. I started both of them a long time ago and they're a mess. But I'm trying real hard, Ringo.

Marc and Debra Blain have real problems

A slight non-musical exploration while I rejoice in one evil (the Colts) defeating another, greater evil (the Jets), while the greatest evil of them all (the Favre) mentally prepares for how he will swiftly and publicly blame Peterson for the loss. (It's tied at twenty-one right now, but there's no way the Saints lose this).

Really dodged a bullet here. As Chairman Mao once said, "We live in some interesting god-hole-fucking times." Perhaps it was Ming the Merciless. I forget my American History.

Speaking of America, this whole "USA" thing is a blessing and a curse. A blessing because when I'm filling out some international form or declaration or shit like that, when I get to the COUNTRY line I can write three silly letters and be done. And two of them are vowels! And the third is like the most popular consonant. Those letters don't even need to be written out, they're assumed and shit.

I'm very nearly drunk right now.

The downside of such a catchy acronym is that people can sculpt ridiculousness based solely around its simplicity, with a little warmongering richness added for flavor. A. and I moved here last Spring and we've enjoyed its lack of an overt political heaviness. We're both rabid independents and we get pretty worked up when it comes to (I think Favre is hurt!!!!) people who feel entitled. We're so independent, in fact, that we bucked the system and never got around to re-registering to vote. Washington can eat shit.

Who knows if us not voting in the special Massachusetts The-Future-Is-Brilliant-and/or-Fucked senatorial election will matter in the long run. (Also the local election to decide if town taxes should (touchdown, Saints!) be raised to build a new police station, and frankly I was more interested in those results. Not interested enough to take three or four minutes to update my voter registration, but still interested. And it was defeated… take that, fuzz!) So back to that entitlement thing. Maybe I would have voted for Brown (probably not) and maybe I would have voted for Coakley (also probably not, particularly because I saw her glad-handing at North Station twice in the last two weeks and noticed her Quadimodo-esque hunch was dangerously under-reported). In fact, I probably would have voted for Joseph P. L. Kennedy because he thought he could win based on coincidence and outright deception. Which is how most elections are won anyway. That guy got one percent of the vote, which might not sound like a lot, except I'm sure seventy-five percent of the people who voted for him thought he was an "actual" Kennedy.

Anyway, Coakley only recently realized that she had to earn (fumble!) our votes, and that's why she lost. In true I-can't-believe-I'm-losing-to-this-guy fashion, Brown did everything short of bitch-slap his daughter when he announced in his victory speech that she was available for sex. He also kept telling us about the truck he drives. Matter of fact, his campaign slogan was "Slip it to my daughter in my truck or the terrorists win."

Onward. This… monument… would have pulverized every political, sensible and ironic fabric of my beautiful mind and body. Marc and Debra Blain have real problems. I like the line comparing the thing to a commercial sign because unfortunately that's what "USA" has become—a brand name that ninnies can holler in unison because it's easy to say, and it's an easy way to pretend to be patriotic. When your national anthem is about war and your veterans memorials honor violence instead of sacrifice, it's not unfair to accuse "Occupying force!" when your humanitarian aid workers arrive bearing machine guns.

Anyway, I play Risk online with my friends, and Kamchatka is a key country (or key oblast, for my Russian friends). I've been staring at the word "Kamchatka" off and on for years playing this game, and just now I still had to look up how to spell it. I don't wish I lived in Kamchatka, because I like it here and it's where I keep my stuff. But I wish my country were called "Kamchatka." Or "Eastern Australia." Even "Tinycockistan." Anything that would make people think twice about yelling it over and over when they have nothing better to say.

Tied at twenty-eight.

The continuing adventures of an extended delay

Future updates: c/o More Cream Please
In honor of my cat Chloe face-planting on the loveseat and for the purpose of writing about music (about anything, really, following a six-month period of exile), here are my favorite albums of each year from 1964 to two weeks ago. I figure 1964 is as good a year as any to mark the beginning of the modern music age. Think of this as a warm-up for my best-of-2009 list, which I promise to consider finishing sooner or later.

For your consideration: the Biffys^®. You're welcome.

1964	Beatles – A Hard Day's Night
1965	John Coltrane – A Love Supreme
1966	Monks – Black Monk Time
1967	The Jimi Hendrix Experience – Are You Experienced
1968	Pretty Things – SF Sorrow
1969	Led Zeppelin
1970	Stooges – Fun House
1971	Groundhogs – Split
1972	Curtis Mayfield – Superfly
1973	Hawkwind – Space Ritual
1974	Kiss – Hotter Than Hell
1975	George Brigman – Jungle Rot
1976	Ramones
1977	The Damned – Damned Damned Damned
1978	AC/DC – Powerage
1979	Chrome – Half Machine Lip Moves
1980	Motörhead – Ace of Spades
1981	Black Flag – Damaged
1982	The Fall – Hex Enduction Hour
1983	Bad Brains – Rock for Light
1984	Metallica – Ride the Lightning
1985	Mission of Burma – The Horrible Truth About Burma
1986	Dead Kennedys – Bedtime for Democracy
1987	Big Black – Songs About Fucking
1988	Public Enemy – It Takes a Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back
1989	Mudhoney
1990	Public Enemy – Fear of a Black Planet
1991	Black Sheep – A Wolf in Sheep's Clothing
1992	The Jesus Lizard – Liar
1993	Wu-Tang Clan – Enter the Wu-Tang (36 Chambers)
1994	The Jon Spencer Blues Explosion – Orange
1995	Six Finger Satellite – Severe Exposure
1996	DJ Shadow – Endtroducing.....
1997	Yo La Tengo – I Can Hear the Heart Beating As One
1998	Six Finger Satellite – Law of Ruins
1999	Make-Up – Save Yourself
2000	Deltron 3030
2001	Fugazi – The Argument
2002	Mr. Lif – I Phantom
2003	White Stripes – Elephant
2004	Comets on Fire – Blue Cathedral
2005	Sleater-Kinney – The Woods
2006	Jay Reatard – Blood Visions
2007	Dungen – Tio Bitar
2008	Black Mountain – In the Future
2009	Flaming Lips – Embryonic

My favorite album from a young 2010 is Fuck You, First Alert, Maker of the Combination Smoke/Carbon Monoxide Alarm Outside My Bedroom That Boasts an Indecipherable Voice Feature and Enjoys Going Off in the Middle of the Night for No Reason at All, Even After I've Replaced the Goddamn Batteries Twice. It's a concept album about violence.

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Edit: Let's keep this going into a grungy new decade. Biffys^® forever! Apologies for duplicate band appearances but I've deemed it artificial to disqualify excellence because of familiar excellence. It's also become impossible to avoid with my disdain for/ignorance of Modern Music—look for a revolving door in the vicinity of Ty Segall and friends in the coming years. This writer shall not be held responsible for busted retcons elsewhere in his archives.

2010	Dead Meadow – Three Kings
2011	Thee Oh Sees – Carrion Crawler/The Dream
2012	Off!
2013	Ty Segall – Sleeper
2014	Shellac – Dude Incredible
2015	Fuzz – Fuzz II
2016	Ty Segall – Emotional Mugger
2017	Thee Oh Sees – Orc
2018	Thee Oh Sees – Smote Reverser
2019	Ty Segall – First Taste

A program for mass constipation in the form of an old mixtape review

Back for more! I'm tearing the hell out of June like it's 2005. Rebirth, indeed.

Enough about me. Let's talk about my past. I'm new to this retroactive self/music criticism so I'll provide some context. By 1996 I had been listening to WZBC for two years and felt I had a good grasp of the underground music scene (honestly, I was right). That year I took a co-op job at what used to be Digital Equipment Corporation (since bought by Compaq and then HP, I think) so was in the car forty-five minutes each way to and from Acton. Definitely got nice and cozy with the likes of "Psychotic Reactions," "Mass. Ave. and Beyond" and other great WZBC shows, but sometimes I needed to control the playlist. (It's remarkable what a great invention the iPod is.)

So I was making mix after mix, mostly for myself, which is a little sad except for the fact that the girls in my life ranged from unpredictable to blasé. I was mercilessly selfish about my music anyway. I had a friend at the time who tended to glom onto certain favorite bands of mine and attempt to ruin them for me—luckily he could always be trusted to slink back to Alice in Chains. And though I didn't date a whole lot in college, I had no confidence in any girl's ability to like what I did. One of them played that Bush album early on, for crying out loud. I didn't want to be rude so I pretended it was "OK" when she asked. Then she admitted to wishing she had "cool" taste in music like I did, and I almost broke up with her on the spot. It's ridiculous to be envious of another person's taste in music, or taste in anything, because taste by definition is personal. Why aspire to something just for show? Should I force feed myself a lobster just because it's popular, even though I don't like it? So anyway, yeah, I hated that she liked Bush, but I'm glad she liked something, as opposed to not caring for music one way or another. I felt no need to introduce her to different music… and it's a good thing, since she dumped me a few weeks later anyway. My heart was broken for a solid weekend! But whatever, I did the legwork, spent the money at Newbury Comics (remember when they sold music?) and spit out a mix every few weeks or so for—more or less—this guy. All thanks to these two clowns who haven't been in my life for a dozen years.

Today I present Interrupting Cow Blues, about ten deep into my career and the first I really nailed. It must have been early 1997 because I've only got one song from that year and eighteen from 1996. (That year's inferior Shaft vs. Godzilla provides the recreated-from-memory artwork above because ICB didn't have any for some reason. It beats the abstract photographs of cassette tapes I originally posted. Mass Art tuition well spent!) Something that jumps out though is I have absolutely no hip-hop, which is strange because I was listening to a lot at the time (before and since as well). Guess I was in a straight rock & roll mood that day. And whatever you call Chokebore.

Side A
Brainiac – I Am a Cracked Machine
Shellac – Killers
Guv'ner – Coitus City
My Bloody Valentine – Only Shallow
Girls Against Boys – Vera Cruz
Cibo Matto – Birthday Cake
Railroad Jerk – Bang the Drum
Polvo – The Purple Bear
June of 44 – June Leaf
Man… or Astro-Man? – Planet Collision
Make Up – International Airport
Yo La Tengo – Autumn Sweater
Halo Benders – Don't Touch My Bikini
Dandy Warhols – Ride

Side B
The Jon Spencer Blues Explosion – Can't Stop
Stereolab – Percolator
Beat Happening – Pinebox Derby
Chokebore – Cursor
The Nation of Ulysses – Diphtheria
Quivvver – Mermaid
Guided by Voices – Watch Me Jumpstart
Dub Narcotic Sound System – Robotica
Six Finger Satellite – Padded Room
Retsin – Loon
Unwound – Corpse Pose
Jonathan Fire-Eater – The Beautician
Combustible Edison – Solid State
Boss Hog – I Idolize You

The title refers to my favorite joke of all time: "Knock, knock." "Who's there?" "Interrupting cow." "Interrupting cow wh–" "Moo!" I told so many people that joke that I unwittingly told the person who first shared it with me. And so I got the blues for running out of laughter targets. (Second favorite joke? "Three musicians and a drummer walk into a bar.") So what? So let's dance!

A1. Brainiac – I Am a Cracked Machine¹
Love starting with "I Am a Cracked Machine," one of my favorite songs from Hissing Prigs in Static Couture, which is one of the best albums of 1996 (and still in my regular rotation). Excellent job by me. A friend of mine saw Brainiac at the Middle East Upstairs (I'm not sure where I was) and told me they had a ton of technical problems during the set before closing with this. By the end of it they had obliterated a keyboard out of frustration. I'm glad they went the irony route there.

A2. Shellac – Killers²
This Shellac song is from The Lounge Ax Defense and Relocation Compact Disc, a 1996 compilation that is exactly what it sounds like. I guess they couldn't have sold enough of these because the club still closed down a few years later. And I sold the disc awhile ago too (salvaging this and three or four other MP3s). I dig this song and have been getting into Shellac again. They're so goddamn tight! It's exciting. "I side with the defenders!" Nice progress so far.

A3. Guv'ner – Coitus City²
"Coitus City" is from a series of split singles eventually compiled and released as the soundtrack for some movie called Screwed. I know nothing about it, except that it once upon a time must have been called Porn because that was the name of the original single series. Super-catchy song for the three-spot (where a lot of album sequences seem to lay the first single) except it's mega-filthy. "Tweaking my speed bag the way that I taught ya." I love it. Not to be overlooked is the near-nonexistent break between "Killers" and this—a practice designed to suffocate each second in an effort to milk every millimeter of that tape. This quick transition sounds great.

A4. My Bloody Valentine – Only Shallow²
My Bloody Valentine. I'm not adding to the eighteen-plus years of blather about how blah blah blah they were/are. Suffice it to say, I think I included this song because I liked it (still do, sigh) and because I was days away from selling Loveless. Now I want to puke whenever they're mentioned—we've come a long way. Next.

A5. Girls Against Boys – Vera Cruz²
Nothing against Girls Against Boys, but I saw them open for the Jesus Lizard once (still one of my favorites) and all this does is underscore the fact that I excluded Yow & Company. Worrisome and shameful. Possibly because I had all their albums on tape already? Anyway, GVSB's "Vera Cruz" was great live and is still a good song. Sort of slowing things down a little. See what I mean? I really knew what I was doing with these things. Sad follow-up: House of GVSB is currently in a pile of discs I plan to sell, right next to their earlier Cruise Yourself. I have ripped most of the tracks, though, and am going to hang onto Venus Luxure No. 1 Baby. They're a great band, I just think their songs are better broken up. That's why "Vera Cruz" works well on a mix.

A6. Cibo Matto – Birthday Cake¹
Cibo Matto's Viva! la Woman is in another pile next to the one of CDs to sell. This pile is of stuff I probably will sell, but only after listening and harvesting the good songs. I'll keep most of this one, I'm sure, and certainly "Birthday Cake." You have to bounce to this. Wasn't it in Brain Candy too? Appropriate, since the best line from that movie is "Can you get me something to eat before I chew my fucking hand off?" and this whole album is about food.

A7. Railroad Jerk – Bang the Drum¹
This is definitely the fun portion of the tape. I first heard "Bang the Drum" on WZBC during one of those Acton drives and was hooked. Aside from the Blues Explosion and the Jesus Lizard I'm afraid a lot of the straight-up rock bands I was into were pretty dry and self-important, so discovering Railroad Jerk (on their third-and-a half album, so what?) was fresh air. This song moves the joy along but I hope I brought in some weightiness soon. (Alas, One Track Mind is in the harvest pile too, though maybe I'll end up keeping it and selling The Third Rail instead.)

A8. Polvo – The Purple Bear²
No weight here. "The Purple Bear" is a straight-ahead pop song that Polvo did so well. If I knew better I'd write coherently about how they had the most wondrous distorted-but-not-really-distortion sound available. I sold Exploded Drawing quite awhile ago now, but not before the birth of MP3s because I was clever enough to hold onto this song and a number of others. It was a fairly ambitious album, if I remember right, but clearly by this point the Polish guy was writing better songs than the Helium-screwing guy. (How's that for analysis?) Also, if I wanted to sell my copy of Today's Active Lifestyles on eBay I could apparently get $40 for it, since it has the tigers image that was later pulled. I'll keep that in mind and tell the whores to watch out.

A9. June of 44 – June Leaf ^ø
In case you were wondering, I still like everything I've heard so far. "June Leaf" is the first misstep, and the first song I no longer own in any capacity. Don't know why I didn't choose the same album's "Anisette" or the earlier "Take It With a Grain of Salt" instead, maybe they were already compiled or introduced time constraints. I should have just skipped June of 44 entirely—they have a handful of good songs and all, but definitely queue up in the dry-and-self-important line and aren't really worth it. "June Leaf" takes too long to get going and doesn't do anything once it arrives—slow boilers generally don't work in a mixtape format. The Polvo-to-June of 44 transition is sort of organic, I guess, but the song no longer does it for me. Check minus.

A10. Man… or Astro-Man? – Planet Collision²
Yup, "Planet Collision" is a Man… or Astro-Man? song alright. (Though I think they dropped the ellipsis by this time?) It's a good song too, but pretty shoe-horned on here. I suspect I needed something short in order to fill out the side. I was pretty particular in constructing in that I basically knew the songs I was going to use, but the order was open to whim. And usually the fine folks at TDK would bless each side of your ninety-minute cassette with an extra minute and a half, so a little improvisation was required. A generic two-minutes-and-change MoAM song, bookended by some old sci-fi dialogue of course, did the trick. I wish I'd gone with the "Television Man" cover instead.

A11. Make Up – International Airport¹
"Airport! Airport!" I still loooove the Make Up. "International Airport" is from the fake live Destination: Love. Excellent short rave-up near the end too. Everything about this band is phenomenal. I've even hung the "Substance Abuse" sleeve on my cubicle wall. Q: How cool am I? A: Very.

A12. Yo La Tengo – Autumn Sweater¹
My introduction to Yo La Tengo was I Can Hear the Heart Beating As One. Years later I remain baffled by the title, but it's either my favorite or second-favorite (after Electr-O-Pura) album of theirs. I showed some real restraint in burying "Autumn Sweater" toward the end of side one, because it was one of my absolute favorite songs of the year. Still like it a lot too. These guys stylistically are all over the map and it's awesome how well they pull everything off, particularly once James McNew became a full-time member. Perfect song. Funny story, when I was working in Stoneham there was a girl who had a crush on me… and on every single guy who ever walked through those doors. But I happened to be the flavor of the moment. Anyway, she asked to borrow this CD and I loaned it to her for what turned out to be months. I was New York pissed. She's the type who thought irritating equated cute, so she was always getting on my nerves on purpose, thinking I'd wear down and realize "Wait a minute, I love her!" I'll tell you what put a stop to that though: I drove a red-hot Corolla two-door then and was very particular about the position of the driver's seat, and that it never be adjusted because I had it set just right. This one time I drove a few of us to a Chinese place up the street for lunch–I always volunteered to drive because one of the other girls was an internationally recognized terrible driver, as in I'd feel nauseous within a mile–and the annoying girl sat behind me. When we returned to the office I wouldn't let her exit on my side because that would have meant moving the seat. She thought I was joking so she reached for the lever and I slammed the door in her face. To quote Mayor Quimby, I could not have been happier with the way that turned out.

A13. Halo Benders – Don't Touch My Bikini²
With the Halo Benders, Calvin Johnson makes his first of three appearances here (really, no room for the Jesus Lizard at all?). He must have forced himself on me the way he did to all those K bands. "Don't Touch My Bikini" was a big WZBC hit the Summer of 1994 when I first discovered the station—it's a fun little song. On paper you think this band would sound like a fifty/fifty mix of Beat Happening and Built to Spill and that's exactly what it is, plus some boingy sound effects. I'm curious to know if they even record together or if Calvin goes in after to layer nonsense vocals onto fully formed Doug Martsch recordings. Either way I like this one, even if they could have severed a minute out of the middle there somewhere. Our A-side is getting a little tired and I'd have welcomed all efforts to tighten it up. Good thing this is second-to-last.

A14. Dandy Warhols – Ride²
Is there a sillier band than the Dandy Warhols? Posing nude in the liner notes, selling songs to The O.C., accepting roles as receivers to Anton Newcombe's giver. And the fucking name. And the fucking singer's name. Still a catchy song, and I'll hang on to it even though the CD is going away. Maybe if I draw red lions on the cover I can make another $40 for those whores.

Entr'acte. I will say I know how to close a side, since "Ride" ends perfectly as an "Ahhhhh… let's regroup" transition.

B1. The Jon Spencer Blues Explosion – Can't Stop¹
With that said, "Can't Stop" is a mistake. The sound is raw enough compared to the slick Dandies, just not overly raw as to be a deliberate shift in tone. Oh well. I like the song, it has a great riff, but it's an awfully weird choice for a mixtape. The Blues Explosion were my favorite band at the time (Orange still slays) and I had a whole mess of songs to choose from. Must have felt compelled to pull something from Now I Got Worry since it was their latest at the time. Whenever I hear something from this album I flash back to my senior year of college, living in a great duplex near Symphony Hall in Boston. And I mean flash back in that I flash straight to the exposed-brick wall of the small dining room where I kept the stereo, because I played Worry a lot. I think I was trying to convince myself that it was as good as Orange and Extra Width when it was not (and is not—in fact, "Love All of Me" is the dullest thing Spencer has ever done). So back to "Can't Stop": I do love the Iggy shout-out "'Cuz your girlfriend still loves me," and maybe that was enough to favor it at the time. But something like "Skunk" or "RL Got Soul" would have worked better.

B2. Stereolab – Percolator¹
To this day, "Percolator" makes me think of a particular intersection along that drive to Acton, right at routes 2 and 126 (where you'd turn to go to Walden Pond). I must have heard it for the first time right there one morning. (Funny that "Bang the Drum" reminds me of a spot a couple hundred yards eastbound, probably where I heard that for the first time.) I'd been familiar with Stereolab since Mars Audiac Quintet came out in '94 but "Percolator" is the song that made me a real fan. Emperor Tomato Ketchup is easily my favorite album of theirs—I can listen to "Metronomic Underground" for hours. "Percolator," also, is cash money.

B3. Beat Happening – Pinebox Derby²
Welcome back, Calvin! What was I thinking? "Pinebox Derby" is a good song but I really should have opened things up with Dr. Octagon or something (I like "Wild and Crazy" here). Anway, I'm not about focusing on past mistakes. This is Beat Happening in down-and-dirty mode—down-and-dirty for them anyway. I do like the guitar sound here and definitely prefer this style over the lesser "Indian Summer" stuff.

B4. Chokebore – Cursor ^ø
About those past mistakes though: Chokebore. Really? Misstep number two. Dull, repetitive, overlong, real momentum-killer. I hate when bands think they've stumbled across something oh-so-clever and just can't let it go ("indie" bands are particularly guilty). That describes every element here: the noodly little riff, the retarded crunchy riff, the megaphone vocals and the "slow" parts. I'm really annoyed with myself for including this. I pulled it from an Amphetamine Reptile sampler with cars on the cover. Clearly, excluding "Percolator," this B side is not winning again and again and again.

B5. The Nation of Ulysses – Diphtheria¹
Ian Svenonius makes appearance number two with his Nation of Ulysses comrades. If you excise "Cursor" and make this number four then suddenly I'm not so hard on myself. Theses guys excelled at weaving in and out—their albums are so perfectly sequenced that I had to steal "Diphtheria" (from 13-Point Program to Destroy America) as my a chill-out track before getting loud again. I'm pretty sure Steve Kroner handled the backing vocals on all their stuff because this style of contribution is absent from The Embassy Tapes, recorded after he quit/was booted from the band. I think he is fantastic and really makes songs like this and "Mockingbird, Yeah!" stand out against contemporaries. (I don't know if the intention was to amuse, but "DEE-NIGH-YULL! DEE-NIIILE!" is amazing.) In one hand it's a shame these guys broke up after only two proper albums, but in the other we know that a band's first or second album is usually its best. I guess it worked out.

B6. Quivvver – Mermaid²
"She's a mermaid!" I think this version is different from the original single version I first heard in '94 or '95. I remember that being a little slower and probably better, but I only owned the re-recorded album version. Super fun song—I wonder how Quivvver didn't become mega-stars.

B7. Guided by Voices – Watch Me Jumpstart¹
Pretty safe GBV choice, indeed, but I'm still enamored with the chorus. So grand and earnest that I want to cry whenever I hear it, and I don't usually go for grand and earnest things. I'm not talking about the words because I don't understand what he's saying, and if I did I wouldn't pay attention anyway, but the melody is beyond catchy. In-and-out harmonies too. I love this shit.

B8. Dub Narcotic Sound System – Robotica²
Ho-hum, Calvin Johnson again. I still enjoy this song but I don't know why I felt the need for some Dub Narcotic. It's a better song but sort of accomplishes what "Cursor" did earlier on by killing any type of vibe I was building. Practically an instrumental, and when an instrumental is the best song on a lousy Dub Narcotic album (Boot Party) then you might have an overbearing singer.

B9. Six Finger Satellite – Padded Room¹
Thank god for Six Finger Satellite—"Padded Room" wakes this party right the fuck up. Every few weeks their four albums (and now the new/old/awesome Half Control) end up right back in my regular rotation (I love listening to them at work, for some reason) and there aren't many bands I'd take over them. Like Shellac, I get such a kick out of how tight they are. I like my roving sixties psych workouts as much as the next guy but I definitely have a soft spot for straight-ahead, focused, rehearsed volume. For when I die it will also be from severe exposure.

B10. Retsin – Loon²
What the fuck was I thinking by following 6FS with Retsin? Trying too hard for variety? When I die will it be from sincere cooing? "Loon" is a pleasant little song on its own but to cram it between two of the best rock songs of '96 is lunatic and unfair. A friend of mine once made out with Tara Jane O'Retsin backstage at a Rodan show so maybe this was a shout-out to him. Or I was justifying buying Egg Fusion in the first place. Frankly, I should have to justify buying something called "Egg Fusion" that doesn't cook me omelettes.

B11. Unwound – Corpse Pose¹
Yes. Unwound's Repetition was a welcome bounceback after the somewhat lackluster The Future of What. That album grew on me over time but Repetition is immediately and thoroughly excellent. WZBC might have played "Corpse Pose" before the album was released since it was the single (in a slightly different mix that I don't remember) but I'd be surprised if I didn't trek down to Newbury Comics (seriously, remember when they used to sell music?) and buy it the day it came out. Great song, and though I prefer their first two albums and the earlier singles, this post-punky type of stuff still does the job. Sounds to me like that direction started on Future, reached its apex with Repetition and especially "Corpse Pose," grew a little stale by Challenge for a Civilized Society and then got old and dull with the monumentally overwrought (but not bad) Leaves Turn Inside You. "Lazslo" from a 2001 Troubleman compilation victoriously redeemed the band for me (not that I ever stopped liking them) but I don't know if it was recorded before or after—I only heard it after. (Not that LTIY was without great songs, but the overall sprawl—sixty minutes of music split over two discs… when's that a good idea?—really crimped my crack. "Scarlette" and its video were amazing but I could not have sold that album faster.) But anyway, yeah, apex and "Corpse Pose" are near synonyms.

B12. Jonathan Fire-Eater – The Beautician²
Let me check Wikipedia: yes, Jonathan Fire-Eater is American. Tremble Under Boom Lights is good, if slick, but the band's Anglophilia tends to get annoying. I'm surprised they didn't name themselves Jonathan Color-Favor so they could spell it Jonathan Colour-Favour. It's a good thing I liked "Cherry Red" so much (it was the first song I heard off this) because I certainly would have balked at the oh-so-English cover art with the oh-so-Wire band photos. And then they sprinkle in phrases like "night on the tiles" and name their singer Stewart Lupton. I have to admit it, though: "The Beautician" grooves along nicely for some pasty wannabes. The whole EP does, really. Who's the asshoule now?

B13. Combustible Edison – Solid State²
Combustibly Edisonic! I haven't used that modified adjective in far too long. Who would guess "Solid State" works so well here, fitting wonderfully after those fake English guys and setting up the finale. (It doesn't matter that I don't speak whatever language they're singing because I don't pay attention to lyrics.) I still have their first album and I bet I haven't listened to it in fourteen years. What's that about? Maybe I'm afraid of no longer liking it? Of course "Solid State" is gold, and anyone who disagrees is… well, they're probably OK I guess. But I dig it. I dig you too.

B14. Boss Hog – I Idolize You¹
But Jon and Cristina idolize you, baby. A slightly tongue-in-cheek Ike & Tina cover is better than no Ike & Tina cover at all, but that's underselling the song. Big Jon Spencer makes a B-side curtain call and fares much better this time—terrific closing number. You can almost hear the nudity.

Término. Well that took some time. Worth it? I don't know, but it was fun to listen and write. Overall my original assessment was correct and Interrupting Cow Blues is a very good mix. I still like most of its songs and that can only mean I'm old and tired. Diffuse pastness rules!

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I've denoted songs whose albums I still own with a superscript 1; a 2 means I've sold the CD but kept the MP3; null means it's dead, baby. The final count: twelve source albums still in possession (and this is significant because I'm in the middle of a second large-scale selling wave, though a couple of remainders are on the bubble); fourteen songs that live on as MP3s (so, fourteen CDs gone); and two songs I no longer like enough to possess in any capacity. Strong ratio—especially, I'm sure, compared to earlier attempts. "Hero" is a strong word.

Have you seen this man?

Greetings, internet enthusiast! I'd like to thank the Revere RMV for this glamour shot, taken a few weeks ago for my renewed license. I told A. afterward that if I ever go on a killing spree and they show this picture on the news, people will say "Well of course he's a murderer."

One thing about moving to the suburbs is you have to drive everywhere, so a valid operator's license is like prison cigarettes. In Cambridge I went quite awhile without a car and did just fine for the most part, since everything was within a ten-minute walk. It only got annoying when I had to meet people outside the reaches of the subway, such as the time I had to rely on a friend to pick me up at the blazing-hot South Acton commuter rail station when that friend is never on time for anything, so I stood there a good twenty minutes with my golf bag and a developing sunburn. Or when my bike and I rode the train out to Concord (bikes are just the clumsiest goddamn things when you're not riding them) and then biked for three miles to Minuteman Park so I could… go on a bike ride. And then ride back when I'm done riding. And then realize there's apparently a clan of hippies that does this every weekend, and they seem to be in cahoots with the train conductor, so the conductor hoards all the bikers into one car and doesn't make them buy tickets, which made half of my prepaid round-trip ticket an absolute waste. But even then, the Porter Square commuter rail station was ten minutes from my apartment. Not terrible.

In our new hometown the station is a five-minute walk from our front door, which is excellent since the train zips me back and forth to Boston in twenty-five minutes. Otherwise it's not particularly helpful (we'd rather drive to, say, Newburyport than commit to a schedule)—therefore, simple tasks like buying wart remover at CVS and bagging my own groceries at Stop & Shop require hopping in the car. Aside from walking to the beach, the library and this amazing Italian place we discovered, there's not much to walk to. But I guess those are pretty awesome things to have close by.

Which makes me one of those assholes who drives everywhere. I know it and I'm not proud… but it can't be helped. Feel free to walk that hour and a half to get me some damn eggs. Still, except for occasional trips the car sits in the garage ninety-five percent of the time. And one benefit of driving is I'm getting to know the area. I never had much connection to the North Shore. (And by "North Shore" I mean the part of Massachusetts north of Boston that's actually on or near the coast, and not landlocked towns that happen to be north or northwest of Boston, miles from the ocean. Semantics is semantics, but geography is geography—people need to stop pretending Andover and Melrose are seaside.) Occasional touristy trips to and family obligations in the area would bring me northeast every now and then, but that's about it. You don't even drive through these towns if you're going to New Hampshire or Maine because they're east of the interstates. But A. and I enjoyed these visits enough to put it on the eventual list of settle-down destinations. And here we are today.

Driving is the best way to learn what's what in these parts. And all the driving means a lot of radio-ing. Commercial radio stations are so weird, not only do they play the same newer songs over and over but they latch onto the same older songs. Sometimes you can attribute this to Rock Band or whatever, where people want suddenly to hear "Tom Sawyer" over and over. But other times I swear all the program directors are listening to each other. Since not one of them is capable of independent thought, they steal each other's "ideas" and turn the whole charade into some kind of circle-jerk for mimics. It can catch you off guard, like "Wow, you never hear 'Creeping Death' on the radio, cool!" But then you hear it on the next station too, and realize that a lot of people own and like Ride the Lightning, so it's not at all a bold programming decision. They'll probably follow it up with "Enter Sandman" anyway.

(The alternative, if I'm lucky to be driving on a weekday, is listening to WZBC or WMBR, though that always costs me money—a couple weeks ago I was compelled to buy "Erase You" by ESG and "In a Rut" by the Ruts after hearing them one recent morning.)

But on a trip to Target or something I might have to pop in a tape—I think I've mentioned before my excitement over our cassette deck. I get a kick out of this because I can revisit my salad days of music taste supremacy, when I openly judged people by the music they like. (Please infer that said judgment is merely silent today and not dormant. Aging and maturing are different things.) Lately I've dug up some old mixtapes, and it's high time to judge that elitist twenty-something asshole, show him who's boss. Or, perhaps, learn that he was a cool shit, and wonder whether continuing to like what I did a dozen years ago is good or bad. Have I progressed as a person? Have I erred in my own estimation as a wise and chiseled future-man? In a matter of days you will know. (Seriously, it's almost finished. And beyond excessive.)