the sticking point

Pointcast One: Dry Mouth, Lip Smack and More!

Amtrak / en route to Providence.
Smile, you're traveling! It's Friday, it's the Fourth of July, and that could mean only one thing: the first of the Pointcast things I've been promising since March is here.

What goes up, must come down. I’m proving it today, heading up the eastern seaboard and back down again without so much as time for meal in between.

When I came home from the Yankees game last night I worked on the Pointcast and some other projects, hammering away until past 0300 hrs this morning. I finally got in bed and read the Dean Wareham book for a while, before lights out around 0400. I knew I could sleep in today, maybe as late as 0930, because all I had on the itinerary for this July 4 was to wrap up the last pieces of writing for the song list below, drink some coffee, get a good workout, and then wait for Mrs Sticking Point and the boys to arrive home from their week on Cape Cod. My comet of non-stop work and to-dos and errands would flame out, and I could relax today; well-rested and work completed.

Ha! My feeble "itinerary" is a mere yarn-ball between the giant paws of fate: toyed with, and ultimately swatted under a couch.

The phone woke me up at 0727. It was my wife. Feeling ill and feverish, the 5-hour-plus drive from the Cape (with our two Subaru-monkeys in the backseat) looked unmanageable in the least, unsafe at the worst. She asked, could I at least meet her and the boys in Providence to get them the rest of the way home?

I could, at least, so here I am. Sweaty, tired, and somewhere between Stamford and Bridgeport.

I bought a ticket on the Internets, packed stuff into a bag and hurried out to catch the subway to Penn Station. I had 70 minutes before the ticket, waiting for me somewhere in the cyber kingdom, became non-negotiable and utterly useless. My intensity and nervous froth eased up when I finally sat down on the E train.

It was short-lived comfort. At one stop, still in Queens, a creature boarded my train car. It would take a while before I could discern the lumped, hunched figure as female; what I knew immediately was fear.

It was dressed in a bright white shirt and bright white pants, the cuffs of which bunched up atop a pair of very new, very bright white shoes. Industrial white shoes like ER nurses wear. And, as I said, brand new. On its head was some sort of white cloth, a piece of apparel difficult to identify because the human-like entity was covered entirely with a plastic raincoat. Clear plastic, of course; and thin as Saran Wrap.

It had arrived on the train with two large and over-packed Duane Reade shopping bags that seemed quite heavy, and it stood in the center of the car. Nearly everyone stared warily at this stranger and I was relieved that even a pack of jaded New Yorkers might be as nervous and hyper-vigilant as I.

Nervous. Hyper-vigilant. Because… while this odd passenger stood, hunched over and incessantly adjusting and readjusting its head cloth and plastic hood, I patched together the details and wondered if maybe somebody woke up with Sarin gas attack on his itinerary for this holiday of American independence. The train crawled nearer to the underwater tunnel linking Queens and Manhattan, and I wondered if there were others; what if I looked through the doors and saw cellophane-covered creatures in the train cars ahead and behind? I decided, well -- that would make it time for some go get ‘em. Maybe I could stop something tragic, or diminish the horrendous aftermath, even a little. I conjured the inevitable press conference on the steps of City Hall. “No, no, no; I just did what anyone else would do. But my wife, she’s a hero. If she hadn’t been ill enough to suggest I meet her in Providence… Ha! It was providence! Does anyone else find that ironic? Hel-lo?! Is this on?!”

Idiot funboy can laugh now, but as we left the last subway station before the tunnel, and the featureless figure in white took down her hood to tie the white headscarf more firmly, I got about as fight-or-flight nervous as I’d been since September ’01.

The cult group that carried out the attack in the Tokyo subway was clad all in white and transported the Sarin in bags. They used the tips of umbrellas to puncture the bags and release the poison. There was something about the brand new white shoes keyed me up. They seemed more than just part of a uniform. The white headscarf up top and new white shoes down below lent a ritualized look to the wardrobe.

But. You already know the punch line to all this is that there is no punch line. No soap – radio, as they say. Without incident, the abominable terrorist and I both detrained at 34th Street/Penn and went separate ways.

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Before we cue the music, here's one quick note to the struggling couple:
I think it is a parental felony to leave your children (one of whom is about 90 days old) in Florida while mommy's in Paris going forth with the Lance Armstrong of Rock and daddy's in the Bronx batting fourth for the New York Mediocritees. But I'm sure you've got it under control.

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All aboard the kundalini express, here's the all-new Friday 10 Pointcast -- five songs at random, and five songs chosen. Every Friday that I can capably accomplish it, I'll record a podcast with all ten tracks and commentary. You can download it by clicking the link provided. Each 'cast will be available for one week. If you miss one, or discover the site weeks later, write me at TheStickingPoint@gmail.com and I'll get it to you.

Your feedback means a lot, so even if you don't share your own Friday 10 in the comments section, let me know you were here and what you think of the music.

Download this week's complete file (which will open in iTunes)
CLICK HERE:
TSP Pointcast 070408

01 Media Blitz - The Germs: From the must-have complete Germs anthology. What a cool place to start these Pointcast things, with "Media Blitz."
By the way, could Pat Smear be the Forrest Gump of punk rock? Befriended Darby Crash and formed the Germs (with original drummer Dottie Danger a.k.a. Belinda Carlisle). Joan Jett produces first album. Crash commits suicide. Smear joins the Adolescents. Leaves Adolescents, is asked to join Red Hot Chili Peppers (1992). Turns down offer. Befriends Courtney Love. Kurt Cobain asks Smear to join Nirvana. First gig with Nirvana is SNL (09.25.93). Cobain commits suicide. Smear joins Foo Fighters. Quits Foo Fighters (1997). Serves as Creative Consultant on the Germs film What We Do Is Secret. Rejoins Foo Fighters as touring guitarist.

02 Ghost Rider - Suicide: Track one, side one from the "oh-you-don't-have-it -- what's-your-problem" debut album. Suicide was part of that great New York No Wave scene in the 70s that included Lydia Lunch, Mars, James Chance, Theoretical Girls, and DNA. Rollins Band once throttled this song; find it on Do It.

03 Freddie Freeloader - Miles Davis. (Kind of Blue): Recorded at Columbia Studio on West 30th in Manhattan. If you look up all the lineups Miles assembled over the decades, it's like a who's who of top-shelf, mind-boggling jazz legends. People write volumes about albums like this, jams like this. They are experts, and I'm just the unwashed zoomtard from Podunk who knows nothing but I sure like them sawngs.
Brief Wynton Kelly writeup here.

04 Dirty Water - Jesus and Mary Chain. (Stoned and Dethroned): I have loved this group from day one, the first time I heard the "Never Understand" single, in 1984. I went certifiably over-the-top apeshit for it, and the unimpeachable Psychocandy album that followed. That year, my friend Liz and I saw them play the Ritz -- the best 30-minute concert I've ever witnessed. And where is that long-rumored JMC box set?

05 Illumination - Rollins Band: From Get Some Go Again, criminally overlooked and underappreciated. (GSGA is right near the very top of my LastFM charts.) Features "On The Day," which I've now listened to a few times a week for several years.

06 Shout Bamalama - Otis Redding with the Pinetoppers: From the Definitive Otis Redding collection, the sound of a man singing his pain away. On "Shout Bamalama" though, his 19-year old voice has twenty-five years of thuggin' in it. A great one from the great one.

The George Carlin piece is from a 1986 HBO special called "Playin' With Your Head." My brother-from-another-mother Neil and I used to watch it several times a month; it was on a well-worn VHS tape that had Animal House on it, too. With my caveman audio gear, I was able to take it from TV to CDR to The Sticking Point.

07 You Want The Candy - The Raveonettes. (Lust Lust Lust): I have three of their disks, but never really paid close attention. A few tracks from this new one put the hooks in me, so maybe I have something to gain by giving their back catalog the time of day.

08 Son - 5'nizza: Pronounced "pyat NITsa." And guess what? Their name means "Friday" in Ukrainian. It's a duo that played together for nearly eight years, broke up in 2007, and of course I only discovered them this past February while trolling mp3 blogs for new sounds. It's about the most fun Eastern European music I've ever heard. The layered vocals are amazing and that guitar... are you kidding me?!
Paying it forward: I bumped into this band on the redoubtable Aurgasm weblog. If you go to this well-informed site, you'll leave with a few new favorite songs.

09 Dethbryte - Dax Riggs. (We Sing of Only Blood or Love): "The fragile wave of days / They break against the shore / Of all these years." I'm going to play a lot of Riggs on these Pointcasts, because you have to hear it. Mrs Sticking Point gave it to me. A great album... but you knew I was going to say that.

• Check out the "Dethbryte" video here.
• Dax performs a swamp-ified version of the Misfits' "Skulls" here.

10 Plastika - Idoli: Belgrade Rock City! It's been hard to find info on this band, but I sometimes see their name published as "VIS Idoli." One thing I did learn, is that we all missed out on quite a scene in the former constituent republics of Yugolslavia. I mean it. The Killed By 7 Inch collection is on Redrum Records, the label that releases the endless, rewarding Killed By Death series of obscure punk. You can download the KB7I collection for your own self HERE.

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Now, do it yourself. Put your digital jukebox or mp3 player on "shuffle all songs," and let me know the first 10 tracks out the chute.

[posted with ecto]

On iTunes right now: Constant Pain from the album Corpse Love - The First Year by Pussy Galore

The Grid

I did this a while back, thought I'd give it another whirl...

Stuff I'm not supposed to like, but do...
The Sounds, uncomfortable shoes, Staples (and all stationery stores), Grey Goose & Red Bull, "It's Goin' Down" (), Countdown's substitute anchors Alison Stewart and Amy Robach, Major League Baseball's wild card system, kale, HotChicksWithDouchebags, the bus to Barnstable, the whole idea of Corey Feldman

Stuff I'm supposed to like, and do...
Yukio Mishima, Countdown with Keith Olbermann, Gore Vidal, Soupman's turkey chili, Flight of the Conchords, Van Halen's next tour, my 3-year-old climbing into our bed at 3AM, Mary-Louise Parker

Stuff I'm not supposed to like, and don't...
Televised talent competitions, Bob Murray, Dora the Explorer, U.S. military stop-loss policy, flip-flops, Perez Hilton, "the surge," evil clowns

Stuff I'm supposed to like, but don't...
Paste magazine, Talking Heads, high-waisted jeans (and the women who wear them), telephone conversations, The Corrections, sports talk radio, punctuation, iPhone, concerts at Roseland Ballroom, Ethan Hawke, selectively bred hybrid dogs, myspace, Big Love

Stuff I like the idea of, but don't really like...
Yoga, picnics, Dennis Kucinich, Barack Obama, Colbert Report, Jay-Z, "massage" parlors, You Tube Presidential Debates

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Here's this week's Friday 10. Made from the best stuff I like.

01 Tomorrow Belongs To Us - Discharge: All the early Discharge singles are perfection. I was a big fan of theirs in the early 80s, then forgot all about them for a long time, until last year when I started putting the vinyl on CDR and gathering up the CD comps. It's great stuff. This track is on the "Decontrol" EP and the Why comp.

02 You Got Too Many Boyfriends - The Equals: I'm ashamed to say that until a few months ago, all I knew about the Equals was: Eddy Grant was in the group, and they were responsible for "Police On My Back." Then my pal SO'C shared the Viva Equals! comp with me and set my head right in regard to this great, great band. I am a fan now, only three decades after the Equals stopped recording. Song after song after song, Viva delivers. I can't believe that "You Got Too Many Boyfriends" was a B-side.

03 Stretcher Case Baby - The Damned: Another great B-side ("Sick of Being Sick" is the A). It was on their second album, Music For Pleasure. I got this version from Skip Off School To See The Damned (The Stiff Singles A's & B's) on Demon.

04 Lose My Freedom - Go Home Productions: I've written it before; I am not a fan of mash-ups. I say, if the songs are great to begin with, who needs DJ Wicki Wicki making a novelty song out of them? But I make two exceptions to the rule. I really like what Eric Kleptone did with all the Queen tracks on Night at the Hip Hopera, and I always check out the Go Home Productions site for new material. Mark Vidler (who is GHP, I guess), created this track, which combines Devo's great "Freedom of Choice" with something by Destiny's Child.

05 Anyone Else But You - The Moldy Peaches: I bet you don't know who is the Moldy Peaches' biggest fan. I'll give you one guess. Go ahead. Wrong! It's this dude Matt, with whom I once shared an office. Strange guy. Nice guy. Matt was entirely into his own thing and that was that. But oh, the memories! The room we shared was larger than most offices, and there were lots of us in there, too. Sometimes as many as six people. It was a quote-Writer's Room-unquote. Which meant that the Powers That Be threw us all in there together, hoping we'd "bounce ideas off each other" and all the ridiculous stuff people who don't write think writers do when they sit shoulder to shoulder. Anyway, Matt, for as well as any of the rest of us could get to know him, had three main interests. First, there was (were) the Moldy Peaches. Twice a week he'd ask the room, "Do you guys want to listen to the Moldy Peaches?" And one of us would invariably say, "No, because they suck." (We liked him, but sometimes treated him as if he was Donny from Big Lebowski. Because he sort of was.) The second of his life's loves was yoga. Not regular yoga. Matt was into the Bikram type, where you go and do your moves and poses in a hellish Saharan hotbox while every liquid in your system exudes from your pores. Sweat? Of course. Salts? Sure. Plus possibly blood, butter, baking grease, K-Y, Gravy Master, crotch jam, old eggnog, and other multiphasic compounds, all settling back onto the skin and into the fibers of one's clothing. Like Matt's. I knew this (we all knew it), because he'd abstain from a post-Bikram shower in order to get back to our writer's room. He'd stride in, his body shining, with a towel hung rakishly from his neck and a hot breeze of moldy ass trailing his steps. By late afternoon, our shared workspace smelled like someone had shit out a book on how to throw up.
The third thing that seemed to make Matt happy was eating smelly lunches. Which he indulged in as soon as he got back from yoga.
But anyway, now there's an actual Moldies song I like. It's this one, from the Murderball soundtrack. Cheers, Matt.

06 Sonny's Burning - The Birthday Party: My favorite Birthday Party song. I can say, without fear of hyperbole, that the first six syllables of this track comprise the best opening lyric in the history of music, in this or any other universe. If you read this site regularly, you're familiar with the Birthday Party -- ancestors of Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds. I come back to their music often, and I usually hear things differently each time. I have to guess that bands like Jesus and Mary Chain and Dino Jr probably bumped into their share of BP records during their formative years. "Sonny's Burning" is from the Mutiny EP.

07 Hiromi - Squatweiler: If you've never heard this song, I hope it blows you away when you hear it. This is a great, great North Carolina band that deserves a lot more attention. I hope you track down every last morsel they've ever recorded. Maybe you'll start with New Motherstamper, which contains "Hiromi." Motherstamper is the band's third record, but their first after bassist Stacey Matarrese took over the vocals. Throttled the vocals.

08 Give Up The Funk - Parliament: It was just this past Tuesday when Burning Dervish told us "Give Up The Funk" would be his entrance music as he stepped into the batter's box at Yankee Stadium. And here it is on the very next F10.
How cool it was to grow up hearing Parliament, Stevie Wonder, Earth Wind & Fire, and Rufus on the radio all the time. I didn't realize how blessed I was. "Give Up The Funk" aka "Tear the Roof Off The Sucker" is from the classic Mothership Connection record. The Parliament/Funkadelic collective released 19 or 20 albums -- high-quality albums -- between 1970 and 1981. Think about that for a second. You think Ryan Adams is prolific? You think Steven Tyler did a lot of coke? In the 70s, George Clinton could fuel a 747 with a cup of his urine.

09 What Makes You Happy (L) - Liz Phair: I burned this off television program I'd recorded called Sessions at West 54th Street. I've forgotten most of the details about the series, but I copped some good performances from the show onto CDR. I have Phair, Sinéad O'Connor, Ben Folds Five, Beck, and a couple others. I like this song a lot. The version on whitechocolatespaceegg is one of my favorites of hers. It's got the great lines "I feel the sun on my neck / I smell the earth in my skin / I see the sky above me like a full recovery."

10 King's Lead Hat - Eno: The title is an anagram for "Talking Heads." The story that gets passed down through generations of Eno fans and scholars is that he hoped to record it with DByrne and the rest, but it never came to be. Soon after this album, Before and After Science, was released, the Man Himself collaborated with Talking Heads on a few albums. I don't know all of them, but the one TH album I actually like is among them. Getting back to Eno -- the Man Himself -- for a second, I think his reputation as an experimentalist might turn some people away. I'm sure plenty of folks hear "art rock" or "ambient music" and think, "Fuck that! Where are my Stooges records?!" Luckily, TMH's recorded output is as varied as the day is long, the summer is hot, and Dick Cheney is evil. There's plenty in his rewarding canon for everybody; dig in! October is just around the corner, and for me that means lots of Here Come The Warm Jets. His music is good for anytime, but there's something carried on a crisp fall breeze that tells me it's time listen to more Eno. (I have "October music;" I'll explain another time.)

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Tag, you're it. Set your mp3 player, digital jukebox, or Roomba to "shuffle all songs." Hear 10 songs randomly selected for you by the machine. Share them with us in the comments section below.

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Hear it for yourself. CLINK THIS LINK to download this week's Sticking Point Friday 10.

[posted with ecto]

Big Knowledge, Part Two

Check out "Part One," here.

I was taking my 3-year old, H, to a Cape Cod League baseball game last month. I love that league. I can go on and on about how great it is, but I won't. (You can "read more about it" starting here, if you wish.) I wrote "taking," because we never actually made it to the game. We never found a parking space. This is small town baseball, where folks get to the parks mid-afternoon, put out chairs and blankets, and have picnic meals while waiting for the first pitch.

I drove all around looking for a spot, while H sat in his car seat and named all the sea creatures he spotted at the beach that day. "Shark... hammerhead shark... octopus... whale... bull shark... sea turtle... pufferfish...." He's a good boy, but he lies like a rug. We were playing in the shin-high shallows and tide pools of Skaket Beach; my personal ledger listed only hermit crabs, minnows, and algae.

I pulled into the parking lot of the local middle school, which is situated on a hill overlooking the ball field. I circled the oval driveway and found no available spaces. In fact, cars were up on grass and squeezed between trees. Just as I was about to drive out of the oval, a car pulled up and blocked my exit. (Well, I don't know if it's officially a car. It was one of these things.) I was confused.

The Element driver gestured to me that I was going the wrong way in the parking lot, and vigorously motioned that I should hit reverse and back all the way around the lot. I looked in my mirror. I saw at least two cars lined up behind me, and H in his car seat communicating intently with his Buzz Lightyear toy. Facing forward again, I kind of shrugged -- I couldn't go anywhere, the other driver could -- so motioned for him to back up the approximately 36 inches necessary for me to get past. Out of the parking lot and out of his way.

Uh-uh.

No, he gesticulated. I must go back. But I had nowhere to go. I checked the rear view again and threw up my hands.

He said something to his buddy in the passenger seat, and I saw a young boy lean forward from the back seat. Then Mr. Element got out of his car and approached my window. In a mind-bending display of overreaction, he actually leaned into my personal space and yelled at me.

"You're going the wrong way! Turn around right now and go back! Get your car out of my way!!" Arrrgh grrr raaaaahhhr!

Snuck a peek at H in the rear view. Oblivious. Good. In a forceful whisper, I said, "Come on, what are you doing? There are cars behind me. Get back in your fucking car and back the fuck up."

He took a few steps away from my car door and screamed, "You're a fucking piece of shit, do you know that?! A fucking piece of shit!" He grumbled his way back to his driver's seat and I thought our little duel was finally over. Behind me, drivers were attempting broken U-turns to escape the logjam.

Just then, the sky got brighter; a chorus of angels rang out; and the air was suddenly saturated with the divine scents of buttered popcorn, clean laundry, and your first puppy. Time stopped. I felt light as air. The absolute most soul-satisfying moment in my life was unfolding as I sat at the wheel.

Mr. Element had come back. Only this time, he was waving his car keys in his hand and clanking them against my (now shut) driver's side window. But that's not the good part. His very next move was to elbow his way up the hood of my car and -- CLINK! -- drop the keys there.

As he turned back to his vehicle, my eyeballs widened to devour this beautiful scene in its entirety. Other driver: in his car. Other driver's keys: on my hood, not four feet from my reach. There is a distinct possibility that I ejaculated, just a little bit, in my pants. I wouldn't have noticed because my brain was too busy choosing the best of many options.

Here's what the scorecard allowed:
a) Grab the keys. Throw them as deep into the nearby woods as I could manage. Ask Mr. Element, "How do you feel now? Like a dick?"
b) Grab the keys. Throw my car in reverse (by now no one was behind me). Drive away, screaming "How ya like me now!?"
c) Grab the keys. Pop over a curb. Drive past Mr. Element while smugly rattling keys out my window. Wiseass retort unnecessary.

Those are the primary three. Any variations derive from these fundamental choices.

I know what you're thinking right now.

"Boy, it's a damn good thing he didn't go 'on and on' about that baseball league."

Picking up where we left off, I am about 25-30 feet closer to his keys than he is. I checked H, reached for my door handle...

And my cell phone rang.

My dad was calling. He and my mother were planning to join us at the baseball game, so I knew they were somewhere nearby. I had to get it. "Hi, buddy, listen. We can't find any parking, I think we're just gonna pass for tonight."

I spoke in quick, fractured sentences, trying to rush off the phone, but unfortunately Mr. Element realized he almost made the mistake of his life and had already collected his keys from my hood. Oh well. But seeing me on the cell phone changed his mind about things, because he started his car up and rolled back to let me past. Maybe he thought I had the cops on the line. Whatever. I pulled out of the lot, finally.

At first, I was seething. I missed a great chance sprinkle some crap onto that a-hole's week (or month). I started imagining all the fun stuff, like what if I had gotten out of the car calmly, quietly; pulled the aluminum bat out of my cargo bin and took that douchewad out at the knees? Ha! Or just silently battered his Element into bent tin. Ha ha! Or... or....

But as H and I drove back to the house, my mood changed entirely. My awesome son sang "Beyond the Sea," which he knows from the Nemo DVD. He told me about Derek Jeter, Rocket Clemens, and A-Rod. I got happier.

I became totally soothed by the realization that, after decades of hard-won lessons, I'd finally learned something. I stayed in the car. Stayed safe. First order of business FOREVER is keeping my children out of harm's way. Second order of business is teaching them that power is not force.

I didn't get out of the car. I'm all growed up. Absolutely goddamn right.

Today's Friday 10 knows you don't fuck with a dead man.

01 Why'd You Want Me - Jesus and Mary Chain: I'm a big fan. I have all their albums, EPs, and comps and I saw them a few times. They didn't disappoint, not even when their New York City debut show at the Ritz lasted only 25 minutes. They walked off stage, and I said my pal Lisa, "That was fucking awesome" while everyone around us gave the empty stage the middle finger. I've heard that JMC is releasing a 4-disk box of B-sides and rarities through Rhino later this year. I've got to have that. "Why'd You Want Me" is from the Sound of Speed singles/B-sides comp from 1993. A lot of times a band pops up on a Friday 10 that prompts me to listen to them all weekend. I'll be feasting on some Jesus and Mary Chain for a few days.

02 Plug Tunin' - De La Soul: In the summer of 1989, I was on a road trip with my brother from another mother, NXB. We were tooling around the country in a late-70s Cadillac Fleetwood V8 with leather seats, electric windows, and sassy fender skirts, but no cassette player. For several weeks and a few thousand miles, our "entertainment center" was a battery-operated boombox cassette deck laying face-up between driver and passenger. (And it wasn't even stereo -- it had a single 6" speaker.) That wasn't a problem. The 3 Feet High and Rising record had been out for a few months and N was a fan. I wasn't. We didn't have many tapes with us, because the "entertainment center" wasn't even "obtained" until around Maryland way. But we did have this De La Soul. It drove me crazy. Three good songs and about 40 tracks of nonsense. To break the monotony we bought a box of TDK-D60s (those are blanks, kids) and on those occasions when someone was kind enough to put us up for the night somewhere, we'd make one mixed tape each from our host's record collection. Sometimes we really scraped the bottom of the barrel from their crappy, haphazard collections. We'd end up with 60-minute doses of sub-ironic eclectica. (i.e. Huntsville, AL: Cougar-Mellencamp, Chili Peppers, Hall & Oates, James Brown, The Nazz, Creedence, Tone Loc, and more!)
I heard the 12" version of "Plug Tunin'" today. I have a couple De La songs on the iPod, but I still don't much like them. I've never really got what they were aiming for.
...And Then Some Dept.: That Caddie did alright. Apart from a couple shredded belts (Houston, Council Bluffs) and the time the rear-view mirror melted off the windshield and burned N's thigh (Coral Springs), it served us well. On the day we arrived back in New York, we stopped for pizza then went to the Wiz for new music. When we came out of the store, the Caddie wouldn't start. We waited for a tow. The car handled thousands of miles, then died in our neighborhood. I took a bus the last nine miles to my apartment.

03 One Track Mind - The Heartbreakers: From Live at Max's Kansas City '79. The recording history of this record is pretty convoluted. There were many attempts to capture the reunited Heartbreakers at MKC. The bottom line is that Walter Lure and Billy Rath remixed the original recordings (with Ty Stix on drums) as well as tracks recorded later (with Jerry Nolan back on drums). The 1995 CD release on Beggar's Banquet sounds better than the ROIR versions. What is at the Max's Kansas City site today? A deli/sushi place.

04 Little Boy - Honey Brothers: This is not a bad song, all things considered. Sounds a little like late 60s British folk pop, or the kind of song that would be sandwiched between Nico and the Kinks on the soundtrack of a Wes Anderson film. The only thing at all that I know about the Honey Brothers is that one of the members is the guy who plays "Vince" on Entourage.
I Have To Ask Dept.: Does anyone buy into the Vince guy being the stud leading man the show would like us to believe he is? He seems pretty lightweight to me, but in the show's version of Hollywood, he's been cast as Aquaman and has some measure of deal-making power. Nah. The producers are trying to portray him as a Vince Vaughn-type, but I see more of a Jon Cryer-ishness.

05 I Am Damo Suzuki - The Fall: In interviews, Fall singer Mark E. Smith has said that Can is his favorite (or rather favourite) band. Damo Suzuki is the Can vocalist. And so, we get this, from the exceptional This Nation's Saving Grace disk. Every Fall record gouges big chunks out of what once passed for great music.

06 I'm The One - Black Flag: "Walking through a world of lies / With a heart made out of stone / I looked deep into my eyes / And I knew I was alone." One of the many great things about the mighty Black Flag is this: they had so many lineup changes and such an ever-evolving sound that it's not impossible to call several of their albums your favorite. Damaged (Greg, Rollins, Dez, Chuck, Robo; 1981) is my favorite. And the one that this song comes from, Loose Nut (Greg, Rollins, Kira, Bill; 1985) is my favorite, too. It is track after track of unrelenting musical PSYOPs. Some of Ginn's best guitar work is featured on Loose Nut; I listen to it every week.

07 Caught With the Meat in Your Mouth - Dead Boys: From the 1977 Young, Loud and Snotty record. I've always kept the Dead Boys at arms length. Can't say why. The songs (especially this one) are good, if a little too polished. I liked Stiv Bators a lot. Maybe I could never got past my dislike for that album title.

08 This Gun Says - U.K. Subs: This band released many great singles. Here's one. It was a U.K.-only single, released in 1985 on Fall Out Records. The double b-sides are "Speak For Myself" and "Wanted." My picture sleeve is blue and white, but I've read that it was also issued with a red and white sleeve. You can find the song pretty easily on Subs CD comps and the great Punk Archives collection.

09 All Your Way - Morphine: I was writing reviews for a music magazine in 1995 when Morphine's Yes got assigned to me. All I knew about the band at the time was the singer/bassist was from Treat Her Right. I knew I was a Morphine fan on my first listen. This is great stuff: saxophone and rhythm section, and that amazing baritone voice of Mark Sandman, delivering the lyrics somewhere in the space between talking blues and a beat poetry reading. These guys land on it like a ton of bricks, and they're another band I'm sure to revisit this weekend.
Sandman shares the same date of death as Brian Jones, Jim Morrison and, now, Boots Randolph.
I tracked down the exact words of one of my favorite Sandman quotes: "As a child, people told me they thought I'd grow up to be a poet. You have to wonder what kind of kid someone would say that to."

10 Song of Joy - Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds: Since this comes from the masterpiece Murder Ballads album, when you hear Nick sing "Ten years ago I met a girl named Joy / She was a sweet and happy thing / Her eyes were bright blue jewels / And we were married in the spring," you know it's all going to a bad place. And you're right. This one plays out like a twisted Dateline NBC storyline. Murder Ballads is a special record, done very well. It's a treat you deserve to own. (Also: I dig how "Song of Joy" references lyrics from two other Cave songs, "Red Right Hand" and "God is in the House.") I can sit through the entire Cave and the Bad Seeds catalog from beginning to end and never get bored.

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Readers are doin' it for themselves: Set your mp3 player, digital jukebox, or acetyl-butane flamethrower to "shuffle all songs." Hear 10 songs randomly selected for you by the machinery. Share them with us in the comments section below.

[posted with ecto]

Big Knowledge, Part 1

There's a Friday 10 at the end of this thing, I promise.

In 1994, I was dating a girl who worked night shifts; sometimes the midnight to 0800, and sometimes 1600 to midnight. Usually I'd pick her up after work and drive her to her place in Brooklyn or mine in Yonkers. One night, we stopped for takeout at the Raceway Diner on Yonkers Avenue. It was around 1 AM, and we were walking back to my car when we passed a guy standing in the middle of the parking lot taking a piss. We glanced at him long enough to notice what he was up to, then looked away and kept walking. Then the pisser guy called out to me, "Hey, dude, sorry to disrespect your woman like this."

Here was a man with honor and great consideration for his fellow human being. Obviously.

After I let girlfriend K in the car and walked around to the driver's side door, I shouted a friendly reminder to the guy that there was a bathroom right inside the diner, not 50 yards away. I got in the car and before I'd even turned the ignition, pissboy arrived at my car door. Of course you know what he said.

"What the fuck did you just say?! Are you a fucking wiseass?!" I noticed that a girl he was with had stepped out of his Camaro and was telling him to come back and get in the car. He stayed where he was, right outside my car door.

What did I do? I got out of the car. Stupid, right? You have no idea.

Did I at least open the door real fast and hard, and knock him on his ass like they do in the movies? No. I stood up and immediately took two steps at him. I made a mental note that he flinched and moved back. I saw this as a good sign. I was exhibiting what some call "command presence," and maybe I could get out of this without a punch thrown.

He repeated his first question, so I reiterated: "I said there's a bathroom right inside. Hot and cold running water. A toilet that flushes. Everything you'd want." I was sizing him up, and I saw he was doing the same. I tried to watch his eyes while keeping his hands in my peripheral vision.

And then his friend (what?!) appears from nowhere. He's on my left side and wants to know what's going on. I never got a good look at this friend, because the very nanosecond I moved eyes left to look at him, pissboy clocked me in the center of my face. Nose shattered. At first, everything got really bright and then things went dark. My knees went out from under me and I tried to recover my eyesight, which was coated with warm blood.

I couldn't see a thing, I was down on the cement, trying to get up, and taking kicks to the head, face, and chest. I was completely at their mercy, and they didn't have any. One of them jumped on my chest and started hammering me in the face. I didn't feel anything anymore, couldn't tell up from down. I heard a girl yell, but it wasn't K. It was probably Miss Piss from the Camaro. Then I heard footsteps running toward us and hoped it was someone who could get these guys off me fast, because they didn't seem ready to quit.

The footsteps got closer and, without a single word spoken, the force and frequency of kicks and punches increased. Fresh troops had joined the fight against the poor, bleeding fuck on the parking lot cement. It got ridiculous. I was rolling from one foot to another like a soccer ball. I bounced off of parked cars, setting off all their alarms, and back into the hands and feet of the mob. I could only try to shield my face and groin.

But hold on.

I am going to share something with you now that I wish I didn't have to write. Not because it's painful or embarrassing, but rather stupid. When you read this, you will think, "Oh, come on; you had me believing the story until that part!" Trust me. This next part happened. As stupid as it sounds. As pathetically reminiscent of bad 1960s action films as it seems, it happened in real life. Mine.

One of the attackers said, "Let's finish him."

I know, I know. But remember what I said above. It happened. This was Yonkers, after all, and Rambo theatrics like that were the coin of the realm.

I don't really dwell on how close (or not) I came to being "finished." I just never wanted to go there. I just let it sit in a little place in my brain where I can pretend that a-holes like those guys weren't going to finish shit. It's better to leave it there.

Finally they went away. K came to peel me off of the ground. I was at least 50 feet from the spot where that first sucker punch dropped me. (Hey, you know what? I shouldn't weasel out like that. It wasn't a sucker punch, per se. No, I was not looking at the guy when it was thrown, but I did have some sense that a fight could happen; so I'll redact that description.) Annnywaaay, when I could finally wipe the blood out of my eyes, I could see that I was way away from where the thing started. I could also see all the diners at the window booths watching my tragedy unfold. I'm sure they saw it all. They might have heard all the yelling, but six or seven car alarms shrieking at once surely got their attention. To them, it was dinner theater. Thanks for the assistance, homies.

I remember K helping me into my car. She was trembling. Then and now, I think of how terrifying that must have been for her. I would rather take the pummeling every time rather than be the girlfriend in the car watching it all. God damn. I asked her what happened, how many guys was that? She told me there was the original two, then another of their friends came out from the back seat of the Camaro. And then four guys ran over from across the street, near the racetrack. They said, "Get him!" and joined in on the winning side of the battle. (Thanks for the assistance, homies.) Seven guys.

We went to the Lawrence Hospital ER, and hey -- they took me right away. Thinking back now, I wonder why I wasn't questioned by a cop. Maybe I was, and just can't remember. It just seems some sort of report should have been filled out or something. They would never catch the dudes, of course, but I would at least be able to read the account of it in the Police Blotter section of the Herald Statesman newspaper. That'd be a gas.

Good people in that hospital. They took great care of me. Cleaned me up, gave me pills, ice packs, heating pads, and a dark room to sleep in until the maxillary orthopedist arrived to fix my nose. I slept soundly.

Around 0900, the bone doctor walked in with my X-Rays and gave me a poke and pinch examination. He said, "Wow... someone was really trying to hurt you." (Oh? You think?) "Your nose is broken... up... and cracked back," he said, demonstrating both of these directions with the palm of his hand.

In the days of recuperation that followed, I felt less pain and more stupid. What did I do? I stepped up to a guy over nothing and got myself smeared all over a diner parking lot while my girlfriend cried, my face got broken, and my takeout got cold. Stupid. And not just because I got the snot beat out of me. On the flipside, if I'd have thrown that guy a beating instead, what would that have been for? Because he was pissing? Because he threatened me? Because he was an asshole? Jack Henry Abbott said, in short: "You are what you kill." If you waste the asshole, you're nothing but an asshole yourself.

I was a loser whichever way the blood flowed. I was a loser the instant I got out of my car. As I lay there in bed, waiting for cuts to close, bruises to fade, nasal bones to re-fuse, hospital bills to arrive, and my self-respect to return, I obsessed over my getting out of that car. A scene in one of my all-time favorite movies kept resonating in my mind.

In Apocalypse Now, Captain Willard has just listened to E2C "Chef" Hicks rant about the dangers of leaving the "safety" of their patrol boat, and he seconds the notion in a classic internal monologue: "Never get out of the boat. Absolutely goddamn right."

Today's Friday 10 loves the smell of napalm in the morning.

01 Speedy Marie - Frank Black: This is off the Teenager of the Year album, and if you don't have it, you are missing out on an amazing batch of music. It gets me every time -- how a near-perfect record like this one can be so largely unknown. This is Frank freakin' Black for god's sake! He can do no wrong and you know it. He goes in the studio and hammers everything out live with a live mix.

02 Smash It Up (Parts 1 & 2) - The Damned: There aren't many songs I listen to more than Smash It Up. In fact, if you look at my iScrobbler tracks chart, there are NO songs I've listened to more in the last two years. I've been playing this album, Machine Gun Etiquette, since I was in high school with Teddy Roosevelt. It's their third album, and marks the point where Captain Sensible took over lead guitar (after Brian James bailed) and handled a lot more of the songwriting. With MGE, the Damned made a shift in style from a dangerous-sounding, almost Stooges-like band to one that was more rowdy, kick-out-the-jams rock n' roll. This is raucous material, and this album was a big part of my teenage Friday nights.

03 The Perfect Me - Deerhoof: One of the best musical discoveries I made this year was Deerhoof's Friend Opportunity album, which this is song came off of. I have that one, and The Runners Four (from 2005) and there's not a bad track on either. Their work is hard to define and won't fit neatly into any typical genres, it's simply a treat to listen to what they do. Find them here.

04 Slow Motion - Blondie: From one of my two favorite Blondie records, Eat to the Beat. It was released in October 1979, right at the height of my pre-pubescent crush on Debbie Harry. She does things with her voice on this album that made me horny before I even knew that feeling had a name. The CDR copy I have is burned off my vinyl, like a lot my old stuff is. It's probably time to get one of the remasters on CD.

05 You're Not Blank - The Dils: The Dils were Chip and Tony Kinman from Carlsbad, CA. They released just three singles from 1977-79, and that was it. The brothers went on to form Rank and File. I like these Dils singles. I don't have the original vinyl releases, but between the Dangerhouse Records comps (1, 2) and assorted post-breakup releases I have a good handful of their output. Good left wing punk rock from SoCal.

06 The Way You Walk - Papas Fritas: Thoughtful pop music written under mostly sunny skies. I need that sometimes, and Papas Fritas is the band I turn to. The first I'd heard of them was somewhere online, when I read that Dean Wareham was a fan. So I checked into Buildings and Grounds, and was hooked. Hooked by the hooks. That one came out seven years ago. There's been nothing since, but they aren't broken up. Here's the PF website.

07 No Money - The Evens: Just the other night, I had a dream where I was allowed to be a sort of "guest DJ" in a reading lounge-type place in my apartment building. The first record cued up was a 45 by The Evens. "No Money" is on their sophomore release, last year's Get Evens. (Wow, I think I just channeled a music critic with that last sentence! <shudder>) I like them both, but I connected with The Evens a lot when it came out in 2005, and it remains my favorite. You know the backstory by now, I'm sure. The combined résumés of the two members of this band, Ian MacKaye and Amy Farina, include Minor Threat, Teen Idles, Fugazi, Embrace, Pailhead, Egg Hunt, Skewbald, The Warmers, Lois, and The All Scars. A lot of punk and indie rock history from two people.
Dept. of Sidebars: I don't know if the band name has anything to do with the people of the Russian Far East.

08 Hip Priest - The Fall: From one of the best records any music fan can own, The Fall's 1982 Hex Induction Hour. It contains some of Mark E. Smith's best, most vicious lyrics, and the band really cuts loose. The record's been all spiffed up with a remaster recently and a second disk of bonus tracks including some Peel stuff, single mixes, and live versions. If you don't order it with Amazon's 1-Click, you're taking too much time. Hurry up and get one!

09 Bloody Jack - Serge Gainsbourg: From the Initials B.B disk, a collection of duets Gainsbourg recorded with his then-girlfriend Brigitte Bardot. She's the B.B. A couple weeks ago, with a lot of other things to do, I was ambushed by my A.D.D. and found myself typing "infamous" into the YouTube search box. One of the cool things I found was this 1986 clip of Serge Gainsbourg on live French TV with Whitney Houston.

"No. I said I want to fuck her."

10 Blue Spark - X: Great song from the great ones. That riff just blows by like a freight train. I have my Selachimorpha-obsessed three-year-old son convinced that the lyric is actually, "Blu-u-u-e sha-arrrk... shark!" So now we listen to it together all the time. It is from, of course, the got-to-have-it-in-your-collection, Under The Big Black Sun.

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I give and I give and I give to you people... Now give back: Put your mp3 player or digital jukebox on "shuffle all songs" and let us know (in the comments section) the first ten random songs out the chute.

[posted with ecto]

The Perfect Storm

This morning was mine to wake up with the boys, H Himself & W Himself. My wife and I alternate days, hoping that the other one of us might get to "sleep in." Like, as late as 0800. For the one who gets up at the sound of the first awakened child, it's a crapshoot. The days can start anywhere between 0430 and 0700.

This one began after sunrise. The boys chose to sleep in. H is still asleep as I write this, sprawled across mommy's and daddy's bed like a hobo in a boxcar. And I've no work to get to today. A simultaneous occurrence of conditions which, taken individually, would be far less powerful than the result of their chance combination. A perfect storm. I was able to bang out a Friday 10.

01 K-hole - Coco Rosie: I haven't given the Noah's Ark disk as much attention as it deserves, I think. I usually go back to La Maison de Mon Rêve. I really dig their work; there are always nice melodies and smart lyrics tucked into the strange atmospherics of the songs. I used to think the Cocos weren't for everybody, but the more I listen to them the less challenging the music becomes. I guess that makes obvious sense. Or it's just a ridiculously stupid thing to have written. What I meant is the music not hard to get to.

02 Paid Vacation - Circle Jerks: Not the best song from the legendary Group Sex album, but hey -- that there is Keith Morris. He brings everything he's got to the vocal, every time. This is a very old album, but it never sounds that way to me.

03 Hybrid Moments - Misfits: One of my top three Misfits tracks. How cool is this song?! This version is the Static Age mix. The band used to mix and remix their session tracks all the time for singles and EPs and all the comps (it gets very confusing - this site helps). There are four distinctly different mixes of "Hybrid Moments" from one 1978 session. Who cares? I do!

04 Crater Lake - Liz Phair: I can't remember if the Whip-Smart album was well received. I'll go on those Internets and check the reviews from back then. I reckon that after Girlysounds and Exile, there was probably a battalion of sack-less writers and reviewers waiting armed behind the tree line, to fire off a backlash against ol' Liz.

05 Miniskirt Blues - Cramps: Iggy Pop! Lux Interior! This song was the only thing to get excited about from the Look Mom No Head disk.

06 Get Busy - Sean Paul: Really. I don't know which year it was. My wife and I were down in Miami working a job, and the only performer who really brought it, who was actually exciting, was Sean Paul. I respected him for that. I don't have anything else by him but this track, not even a B-side. But I'd listen if it came along.

07 School's Out - Alice Cooper: I was at the Beacon Theater in NYC one night in 1986 or 87 for a Replacements show. Got there about a half hour before opening act (Johnny Thunders) went on. The place was still practically empty. Tommy Stinson came out and sat next to me and my friend, and wanted to talk about music. He started with the song that was playing through the house PA, "Under My Wheels," by Alice Cooper. Why am I telling you this? I know very little about Cooper, but I like a lot of what I've heard.

08 Genetic Engineering - Orchestral Manoeuvres In The Dark: Can never seem to bring myself to abbreviate such a great band name. Of the whole glut of bands that made music like this from that era, Orchestral Manoeuvres In The Dark is one of the two or three I'd still listen to. This track is the 7" mix.

09 If 6 Was 9 - Jimi Hendrix Experience: "I'm gonna wave my freak flag high!" First time I'd ever heard a freak flag reference was in this song. This is from the Axis: Bold As Love album, the follow-up to Are You Experienced. I think Hendrix was trying things out on this one, adding some bells and whistles that stepped in front of the music a little too much, but still a fine album. A few years ago, there was a vinyl-only release of Axis in mono. I'd love to get my hands on that, or a cdr burn of it.

10 Stop The Clock - Blasters: If you talk about good music for only a little while, of course The Blasters come into the conversation. Check out everything they've made, I say. These are incredibly talented guys who crafted great songs, and they were ferocious onstage. "Stop The Clock" is from the classic first album. Out of print, but all the songs are included on the Testament set

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To leave you on a happy note, Kurt Waldheim is dead. "Where do bad folks go when they die? They don't go to heaven where the angels fly, they go to a lake of fire and fry."

[posted with ecto]

On iTunes right now: Seasons in the Sun from the album Son of Sam I Am by Too Much Joy

Sculpture by Allen Linder, "Man Waking Up" (2005)

Four Eyes, One Vision

I went to two doctors the other day. I don't like to go for checkups and things, so when I have to visit for some reason, I like to kick out the jams and hammer out two in a day.

The first guy, the M.D., he took blood pressure, listened to my lungs, and checked out my throat. He found nothing wrong down there that might have been causing 10 days of soreness. (Now 13.) He swabbed for strep and told me to gargle with saltless water as hot as I could stand and take some ibuprofen or acetaminophen.

I drove home, ditched the car in a nice "Tuesday spot" (city drivers know), and walked to the second guy, the optometrist on Austin Street. He's right next door to the Gap (where I usually browse for clothes I'll later buy from OldNavy.com), two doors down from my gym, across the street from Starbucks and Barnes & Noble. I liked this optometrist’s office, so that a pretty good block, I’d say.

I liked the doc, too, he was alright! And the women working the front of the office/shop were nice, helpful, efficient, and attractive.

I explained to him why I was there: in the last two or three months I've found it necessary to hold reading material an extra inch or two away from my eyes. He asked how old I am. He laughed, and said I am right on time. He told me the eyes begin to deteriorate at 40 years old, and chuckled again, adding, “They’re only going to get worse. I promise you.” I liked this guy.

I was in one room for some machine tests, and then moved to the special chair in his office for all the lens-dialing and chart reading stuff. After a few rounds of “which looks clearer, the first one… [click]… or this second one?” I realized I needed glasses and that’s what this game was all about.

Doc confirmed this at the end of the “which one” game, when he said, “You need glasses.” He handed me the little printout thing that had all the details of my exact prescription and had me hold it about 11 inches from my eyes. I could see it just fine! The numbers were printed out so it looked like a receipt and it wasn’t hard to read at all. Glasses? Come on!

Then the doc pulled two lenses out of his drawer, lenses which match the script I need, and all of a sudden… bam. The numbers and letters snapped into tight resolution. I actually said, “Wow!”

I had no idea how unclear things have been.

I moved to the in the front of the shop and sat with a nice, helpful, efficient, and attractive woman who patiently tracked down and placed before me about a dozen frames similar to the description I gave her of what I wanted.

I picked the frames I liked best, and she cinched it for me when she told me to look at her again. I stared into her eyes and she said, “Yeah, you can really pull these off. They go with who you are. I mean, I don't know you, but... your look!”

Then she described to me all the reasons I needed to pay more for special versions of the lenses: scratch resistant fronts and backs, no glare, ones that let more light in, glass that is lighter, etc. I get the things in two weeks. I am to use them for reading, writing, web surfing; anything that requires my focus at an 8-24 inch distance.

Today's Friday 10 won't make passes at guys who wear glasses.

01 Hepar - Diamanda Galas: The album this is on, Schrei X, contains a live version and a studio version of every track; I heard the studio version of "Hepar" today. What a start to a Friday 10. If you know anything about Galas, you'll know that her voice is an instrument of divine horror. I'm a fan. I don't know why it is that I've always been interested in the fringe stuff, the work that's a little more difficult to "get at." In college, I was accused of listening to "weird music for the sake of being weird," so I stopped telling people what I listened to.

I met Galas several times, she was always pleasant and warm and obviously an intellectual superpower. Around 1987, I had a chance to sit in on a couple of her rehearsals for shows she was doing in New York. Her vocal coach was with her. (I want to say it was Katie Agresta, but I'm probably wrong, probably confusing things a bit. Possibly, it was Agresta who was Phoebe Legere's coach.)
Anyway, I recently dropped a Galas track onto mixed disk I gave friend SO'C. For the last track on his disk, I used a portion of "Wild Women with Steak-Knives (The Homicidal Love Song for Solo Scream)" from her first record, Litanies of Satan. The part I used (the whole piece is more than ten minutes long) is the playful part, that includes Galas saying "I'm not talking about meatballs, I'm talkin' about steak!" (That seems MUCH more playful on the written page, than it does assaulting your amygdala from one's iPod.) Wonder what ol' SO'C thought of that one when it came on?

02 The Vanishing Spies - Frank Black: It's hard to speak of how great the Teenager of the Year album is. It's got one of my all-time fave Frank Black/Pixies/Black Francis songs, "I Want to Live on an Abstract Plain," and the sound of it all, from beginning to end is spectacular. Makes sense, Black co-produced with the great Eric Drew Feldman, who's been in Beefheart's Magic Band and Pere Ubu, and he's produced a couple great Polly Harvey records. When Teenager of the Year came out, I was a tad removed from what was happening in popular culture, so I'm not too sure if it went over big. Do people know how great this disk is?

03 Chase The Dragon - Beasts of Bourbon: Great song from mid-career, off the mighty Low Road album. The lineup on that one was Tex Perkins (The Cruel Sea) on vocals, Kim Salmon (The Scientists, The Surrealists) and Spencer Jones (The Johnnys) on guitar, Brian Hooper (The Surrealists) on bass, and Tony Pola (The Surrealists) on drums. I think Low Road is criminally out-of-print, I can't even find you a copy on Gemm.com, but Amazon has the live album and a greatest hits. It's definitely worth owning as much Beasts stuff as you can if you're interested at all in one of the greatest influences on what became grunge here in the U.S. The Beasts are in New York next Tuesday and Wednesday at Fontanas and Crash Mansion, respectively. The venues have websites. This tour part of something called the Australian Music Collective, and it's in Austin tonight with a lineup that includes the Beasts, the Hoodoo Gurus, I Heart Hiroshima, and You Am I.

04 I Wanna Be a Drug-Sniffing Dog - Lard: I came late to the Lard party, as it were. When I finally got my act together last year, I downloaded as much as I could and I'm happy with all the songs I found. Lard is basically Jello Biafra and Al Jourgensen, plus a rotating slew of rhythm sectioneers, often other members of Ministry. "Drug-Sniffing Dog" is great. It's from Pure Chewing Satisfaction.

05 Germ-Free Adolescents - X-Ray Spex: I still listen to the Germ Free Adolescents album often. I think it's near perfect and great fun. This song has spent many days atop my personal charts. Listen to it. I think it ranks right up there with the pop perfection of "California Dreaming," "Be My Baby," and "Will You Love Me Tomorrow." The Spex gang was WAY ahead of their peers, lyrically and musically. The use of vibrato guitar here, and saxophone all over the album is genius.
Big question: The refrain of this song is "He's a germ-free adolescent / Cleanliness is her obsession / Cleans her teeth ten times a day / Scrub away scrub away scrub away / The S.R. way."
What's the S.R., and what is its "way"?

06 Back in Black - AC/DC: Side two, track one, and we all remember the first time we heard it. It starts with that high-hat and muted guitar chords that, hit together, sound almost like a small snare; the guitar drops out for two beats (and you can hear the "3...4" count in on headphones), and then the heavy articulation of two guitars, bass, and drums come in. Phil Rudd's snare is tuned down low, so it chimes with his kick drum. It is unbelievable. This song, (this album) is a medical prescription for everything that's happening in a thirteen year-old boy's life. I bought this album in August 1980, and my friend John V and I couldn't get out of Sam Goody and onto the #25 bus fast enough to get back to my room and listen to it. We sat with our fucking jaws dropped wide open for 45 minutes. It was the sound of something we felt like we already knew, or maybe something we'd been waiting for. What a great feeling, to come home with a new record and have it knock you for a loop, and exceed your expectations. Imagine that! It doesn't happen a lot. (Especially in the compact disk era, when you get two singles surrounded by 13 tracks of filler.) When I'm in CD shops or records stores, sometimes I lift some of the great ones (like Back in Black, first Dolls, Life Time, Pink Flag, Another Music) out of the racks, and try to remember that feeling of the day I bought it. Sometimes I just want to buy them again, just to feel that.

07 Stand By Me - Ben E. King: I could probably use about ten years before I hear this song again. Good song, for sure, but I've heard it one (hundred) too many times.

08 Real Wild Child - Jerry "Ivan" Allison: Most of you would know this song from Iggy's version of it in the late 80s. It was written and first performed by an Australian named Johnny O'Keefe (& the Deejays) in 1958. That same year, "Ivan" (a.k.a. Jerry Allison) recorded it. Allison played guitar for some guy named Buddy Holly. I doubt any of you have ever heard of that guy, but I'm sure you know Allison co-wrote "That'll Be The Day" and "Peggy Sue." There's this website that has a bit of information on the various cover versions and performers who've done this song, and it says that Allison's affected vocal was taking a poke at Ricky Nelson. Christ, I should turn these Friday 10s into podcasts, because you really need to hear this version.

09 Blood of the Wolf - Hamell on Trial: I dig this guy. I didn't know much about him until a friend mentioned him a few months ago. The downloads started trickling into my computer for a few days, and then came the flood. I'm still just trying to grab everything I can. Just one guy and an acoustic guitar. He's a clever songwriter and he just rips. I dropped by his website this morning and discovered that Hamell O.T. is shooting a new DVD (called The Terrorism of Everyday Life) here in NYC on Tuesday at 20:00. The venue is called Comix. Who's going with me? ("Blood on the Wolf" comes from his Live at the Living Room.)

10 T.V. Love - Simpletones: From Rodney on the ROQ. One of my favorite early L.A. punk rock tracks. Last week, Rodney Bingenheimer got a star on Hollywood Boulevard. I think those star things are bullshit, but I'm sure R.B. was happy about it, so I'm happy for him. That guy can use all the joy he can get, and he sure deserves it. He was the first guy to drop a radio station's needle on records by the Ramones, X, Germs, and a lot more of our favorites. I'm guessing the Simpletones owe a great debt to him as well. They have a myspace page, check out the song "California." Hopefully you'll like it enough to seek out more from this great band. The Beach Blvd. comp is a great place to start; trust me.

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Can Your P**** Do The Dog?: Put your mp3 player or digital jukebox on shuffle all songs. Listen to the first 10 random tracks. Type them in the comments below.

Leave the Poetry to the Pros

I'm a proud father. My not-yet-three-year-old son H was on my lap last week when he got a ponderous look on his face. He cocked his head and looked toward the ceiling for a couple seconds. Then he looked at me and spoke:
"Birthday star, sunshine eyes."

A poem. I believe it's his first.

Today's Friday 10 is in Iambic Pentameter.

01 A Long Way From Home - The Kinks: From one of my top three all-time favorite Kinks albums, Lola Versus The Powerman and the Moneygoround. The last time I had a Kinks track come up on one of these Friday 10s, I wrote, sincerely, about how much better than the Beatles they are (and always have been). I thought for sure that would stir a little bile from the Beatles fans among you. Nothing. Nary a comment about how John and Paul invented the modern day pop song or any of that nonsense usually spouted as if it were fact. (Or even provable!) So today, I'm trying a different approach, just a little poke in your bread oven to see if you're still with me: The Kinks are better than you.

02 Wasserturm - Einstürzende Neubauten: This was a bonus track on the re-released version of Drawings of Patient O.T. The Neubauten guys play a water tower on this song, behind lyrics that Blixa Bargeld has said were inspired by a dream he once had, in which he was hammering spaghetti and music came out. I like all the Neubauten stuff, but Kollaps and O.T. are the serious business.
Impertinent Personal Info Dept.: When I go to have baby W's name and birthdate tattooed below his brother's on my leg, I'm going to stay in the chair for the EN logo. Don't yet know on which patch of skin, though.

03 Suzie is a Floozie - The Lurkers: I miss the Lurkers... I haven't listened to God's Lonely Men in more than five days!

04 Smothered - Die Cheerleader: It's a crime that the Son of Filth album is out of print, and a shame that so few rock fans have ever heard about this great band. Three gals, with a guy on drums. The lead singer, Miss Sam Ireland, has one of the most powerful voices you'll ever hear. Die Cheerleader is melodic and solid like Jane's Addiction was melodic and solid. Get it? If you find Son of Filth around -- eBay, GEMM, etc. -- grab a copy. (I just checked Amazon... you can find it used, starting at .01. Easily worth 2,000 times that!)

05 Mony Mony - Tommy James & The Shondells: I don't know too much about TJ, but I've always loved his songs. At first, they'd show up on comps that I'd buy, and ultimately I went and tracked down a few solid TJ&tS records. (Crimson & Clover is packed with great songs, and it's not even a greatest hits.) You can sneeze into the H-I-J section at any CD store and soak about 25 disks that have "Mony Mony" on them. There was, of course, that well-known version by the guy from Generation X, and another cool one by The Stranglers backing up Celia and the Mutations.

06 London Dungeon - Misfits: From the very hard-to-find Misfits album 12 Hits From Hell. The record was recorded at Master Sound Productions in NYC on 08-07-80, and was original known as the MSP Demos. They were demos for what became the Walk Among Us LP. The 12 Hits tracks were remixed in July 2001 for release on Caroline Records that October. Just before it was about to hit stores, the band had a change of heart and pulled it. (There are too many reasons floating around and no real answers why.) A very few promo copies had already made it out into the real world, and it's from these promos that lucky collectors have shared the wealth. If this thing ever landed in the bins, it would have made a lot of Misfits fans awfully happy. (I'm sure some band members are seething over the existence of this CD. I've written before about how common it is for Cease & Desist letters to land in the hands of eBay execs every time some cool and rare Misfits product is on their site.) There are some amazing tracks on 12 Hits From Hell. You know all the titles, as they've all found release on other records and singles, but these are all significantly different mixes, and in most cases they're better than the ones we already know and love. One interesting thing to note about these 12 Hits recordings is that original guitarist Bobby Steele was kicked out of the band during these sessions, but after he'd recorded all the guitar parts. Then Doyle, Jerry Only's brother, joined the band and added additional guitars. So what you have here is a document of a five-piece Misfits lineup that never actually played together. You can read boatload of information on this rarity at this URL. And here. Today I heard "London Dungeon" from 12 Hits. I have a playlist on iTunes that I built so that I can listen to the original version of the songs followed by the 12 Hits version; I like to A-B them like that to hear the differences. "Dungeon" is a truly stellar song, proof that Danzig could hang with the best American songwriters, and the arrangement is so pure. The original, single mix of the song used to annoy me a bit, though, in that the vocal always sounded like they were shot through a tube, compressed to high heaven. The 12 Hits mix is far superior. (But you knew I'd say that.) The vocal is warmer and has its midrange back. The drum sound is much fuller and wider, with the snare nestled nicely inside the pocket.
Talk About Hi Tek Dept.: I finally got my hands on a vinyl copy last fall. I went upstairs to Stereo Mike's apartment and ran the turntable through a mixer and into his computer, where we ripped WAV files. We burned the WAVs onto a DVD, and I ripped those files off the DVD, through the Audacity software (minus EQ) and outputted them to MP3s and into iTunes, where I later burned off an audio CD. Caveman style and clunky, but hey -- at least I've got the thing!)

07 12XU - Minor Threat: I love it when one band I love covers a great song by another band I love -- and does it SO well. It happened right here, with Minor Threat's pass at the classic Wire song from Pink Flag. I'm not a huge fan of cover songs, especially when they tend to be more of a one-off novelty than anything else, but when all the parts are in place, it's fucking magical. It's Minor Threat paying great homage to the masters. Of course it's on the Complete Discography.

08 Raisans - Dinosaur Jr.: The You're Living All Over Me album came out in '87, and if put your ear to it today, it still sounds so fucking cool. What a mix -- it's frightening, the sounds coming off those songs. "Raisans" is great, as is "Tarpit," but "Little Fury Things" is unmatched, I think.

09 Sex and Dying in High Society - X: The three X shows I caught last year were three highlights for me. They landed on those shows like a ton of bricks. Amazing! This phenomenal song is from the must-have sonic bible, Los Angeles.

10 Down on the Street - Stooges: Did you know that the original version Iggy wrote was called "Down on the Beach"? The first line, "Down on the beach where the faces shine" makes a lot more sense knowing that. You all know this is from Fun House, another essential record if you're thinking about calling yourself a music fan.

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Now you: Put your mp3 player or digital jukebox on "shuffle all songs," and let us know the first ten random songs out the chute.

[posted with ecto]

Blind Date

A friend sent this to me a while ago, and because I'm no fan of "crack whore" comedy, it took me some time to click the link. BUT IT'S GOOD. (The language is unsafe for work.)

Here's today's Friday 10.

01 Blackmail - Thin Lizzy: From Phil Lynott - The Man and His Music, Vol. 5 (Bootleg)
02 I Am Seeing UFOs - Dee Dee Ramone: From Zonked!
03 Stain of Mind - Slayer: From Diabolus in Musica.
04 Smokin' Banana Peels - The Dead Milkmen: From Beelzebubba.
05 Till The Stars in His Eyes Are Dead - Shelley / Devoto: From Buzzkunst.
06 Room of Ruin - Amen: From We Have Come For Your Parents.
07 The Wanderer - Dion & The Belmonts:
08 Genetic Engineering - X-Ray Spex: From Peel Session 03.06.78.
09 Sex Machine (L) - James Brown: From Revolution of the Mind.
10 (I Want To Live on an) Abstract Plain - Frank Black: From Teenager of the Year.

I'll add some notes as soon as I can. There's a pretty cool James Brown story I'd like to share.
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[posted with ecto]

On iTunes right now: Some Things Last A Long Time from the album 1990 by Johnston, Daniel

Shaving Silverman

I've written a lot here, and spoken volumes more, about my disappointment in Sarah Silverman. I used to be a huge fan, then I got tired of her coy, I'm-making-comedy-while-I'm-trying-hard-to-make-it-look-like-I'm-not-making- comedy shtick. It always seemed that she had only a thin sheet of gauze covering the machinery. The last straw was when she stopped making comedy at all and simply regurgitated the same material for four consecutive years. Her budget for development of new material was whatever the Jesus is Magic DVD sells for.

But I can forgive all of that now, because her new show is really... fucking... funny. The Sarah Silverman Program is all over the place and fun; it's whatever it wants to be. There are flashbacks, dream sequences, slapstick, fart jokes, smart jokes, and musical numbers. It's got the absurd appeal of Andy Richter Controls the Universe, but without a major network to fuck it up. It is right for Comedy Central, and I think it will be a big hit. You'll like it, at least.

01 Lush Life - John Coltrane and Johnny Hartman: This is from the Hartman / Coltrane record on Impulse. It's a Billy Strayhorn song. I don't know a lot about Hartman, though every now and then I go looking around the interweb for stuff. There's just not too much I can find. Nothing encyclopedic, I mean. All About Jazz has a writeup, but it's not much. Hartman made a load of records and had an amazing voice -- those are two things I can say with authority.

02 Silver Rocket - Sonic Youth: From my absolute favorite SY album, Daydream Nation. I don't know if it's cool or not to love that one. Maybe it's uncool because it's so obvious or something like that; like I should be heaping blanket praise on their first recordings or some of their more eclectic stuff. I'd liked all their music up to this point, but when Daydream came out, it hit me like a ton of bricks. I just got it. Like a special delivery to whatever was going on in my life in 1988. It even had one track that featured Mike Watt's voice on Thurston Moore's answering machine ("Your memory's gone out the winda!"). This song, "Silver Rocket," is near perfect.

03 Joshua's Light - Bad Brains: This song is 34 seconds long. Why would I write anything that would take longer to read? It's the Bad Brains. It's a gem from Rock For Light. It's better than 95% of the music you've heard in your life.

04 Lonely - Tom Waits: From his must-have Closing Time. Some simple chords on piano, matter-of-fact vocal, and lyrics that could rip your heart out. Tom Waits everybody! (And how about that unfinished line: "And I thought I knew all there was to...")

05 Juke Box Music - The Kinks: From Sleepwalker; a great album but you knew I was going to say that!

06 The Chiselers - The Fall: I love when the mighty Fall of Manchester comes up on these Friday 10s. It's a surprise when they come on, and then -- since their catalog is so diverse, it's always a surprise to hear which Fall sound I'll get. "The Chiselers," as you know, is from the great Light User Syndrome album, but the version I heard today is live (Cambridge, 10/24/95) from The Idiot Joy Show. Machine-gun drums and tempo changes every minute or so. Sorry MLB, THIS is a Fall classic.

07 Do They Owe Us A Living? - Crass: The original anarcho-punks. When I was in high school, I really bought into this band's anarchist preaching. Each import single came wrapped in a poster that would fold out to about 24 x 36 inches. There were no multi-color photos of the band on these posters. They were printed, on both sides, in 8- or 9-point courier type, with Crass' very own anarchist newsletters. Each poster had to have about 70,000 words on it, easy! I devoured it all, though I understood considerably less seeing as how I didn't live in 1970s/80s England and I had little to no world view. The Crass stuff is worth checking out. It's all in print. There's a great anthology that is pretty costly, but The Feeding of the 5000 is a great place to start. The answer to the question posed by the title is: "Of course they do, of course they do!"

08 Sonny's Burning - Birthday Party: "Hands up! Who wants to die?!" will always and forever be my all-time favorite opening lyric. Is that redundant enough to make my point clear? It is my opinion (dear god, here he goes again) that the Birthday Party never recorded a bad song or released a bad record. There are those you prefer more than others, sure, but there is no Birthday Party release where you wonder how they lost the plot. I even think their records got better and better, peaking with the last release, The Mutiny EP. "Sonny's Burning" is from 1983's Bad Seed EP. Cave's vocal is a flamethrower.

09 Stranded in the Jungle - New York Dolls: Shit. How lucky am I? Is this a great Friday 10... or what?! (From Too Much... Too Soon.)

10 Ring The Alarm - Tenor Saw: I've written about Saw before as I'm certain this song has come up on previous Friday 10s. This is the only song of his that I know. I have this one, a live version, and a remix done by Buju Banton. Why do I only have three versions of one song by a guy whose voice intrigues me? Don't know. Laziness, I'd suppose. I vow this year to dig up whatever I can find of TS's and give it all a good listen. Tenor Saw was a rising young reggae star who died in a car crash in Houston in 1988. There's lots of info out there, if you know how to use the Google.
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Now you: Set your mp3 player or digital jukebox to "shuffle all songs," and tell us the first ten you hear at random.
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[posted with ecto]

On iTunes right now: Der Weg ins Freie from the album Perpetuum Mobile by Einstürzende Neubauten

Wonder Full

Track 10 on today's Friday 10 got me thinking about the tag "One Hit Wonder." It's a rancid way to describe an artist or a band, and it shows a little laziness on the part of the speaker or writer or critic. The term has evolved to where it now implies that the act has only one song worth hearing, and in most cases, this is far from the truth. It's staggering how many bands I like (and I figure you do too) who can be labeled 1HWs, but don't deserve to be considered to have scarcity of great songs. Like Thin Lizzy, Luscious Jackson, Sinead O'Connor, Devo, Bow Wow Wow, Gang of Four, Richie Havens, T. Rex, Kraftwerk, Patti Smith, Nick Lowe... and on it goes. For every artist who gets called a 1HW, there's som