the sticking point

Root Root Root for the Home Team

At age nine, I was at the re-opening of the old Yankee Stadium on April 15, 1976 versus the Twins. I remember how steep the upper deck seemed and how the jewel of the Stadium's renovation -- that big "futuristic" centerfield scoreboard/screen (which was actually going to show instant replays!) -- didn't work. Dan Ford of the Twins hit a home run in the first inning. The Twins had the early lead, the Yankees came from behind and won it late. My Uncle Pat ridiculed me for peeling the cheese off his homemade sandwiches and hiding the slices under my seat.

I know I'm in the narrowest of minorities, but that 1976 opening game was the last time I was impressed by that Stadium. After attending a few hundred games there, by the time last season ended, I was more than ready to see it go. What a horrible place to see a game! Narrow rows and aisles, narrow seats (all aimed at second base), and worst of all corridors and vending areas that showed a supreme disrespect for fans. If you ventured out of your seat at that place, heading to a concession or a bathroom, you'd end up detained in dark, windowless cinderblock tunnels. Suddenly you were in Cell Block D. No fresh air, no natural light, and you couldn't see even a glimpse of the field while you served your sentence waiting for a $9 hot dog. For an open-air stadium, the place seemed to have incredibly little outdoor space.

A couple weeks ago, my wife ("S") and I went to the Friday night Yankees-Cubs exhibition game at Yankee Stadium*. It was the first baseball game played there, and it was as exciting as adulthood ever gets. The new ballpark is amazing. They did everything right. The sightlines are very good, and even in a sellout -- with everyone wearing heavy jackets -- fans don't feel packed-in like 55,000 conjoined siblings. Even though the overhanging tiers are gone (the new place opens up like a tackle box), the seats somehow feel lower, closer to the ground. But best of all: so much open space.

Behind the last row of practically every section is a handicapped-seating space and behind that... standing room. You can lean against these rails and at once be watching the game and finding food. The walkways behind the seats on every level are like plazas. You can stroll from vendor to vendor, from one concession to another, without ever losing a view of the green grass and the basepaths. And the whole time, it feels as though you're out in the open air.

Minor detail that means a lot: The outfield walls are midnight blue, matching the Yankees' caps and pinstripes. The new color makes everything look better. (Why were the walls at the old place royal blue?)

Major feature that means very little: Hard Rock Cafe. Open all year, and no view of the field. (Just like the HRC in Times Square!)

Feature that means more than you'd think: The facade/frieze that goes entirely around the structure. I shrugged my shoulders about this until I saw it. Cliché alert: It looks... majestic.

But that's not what I really wanted to write about. I didn't come here to review Yankee Stadium, as fun as that is to do.

I wanted to write about what I, personally, took away from the new ballpark that night a couple weeks ago. My first vivid memory. Like the cheese slices and the disappointing scoreboard burned in my mind from the 1976 opener, I will forever remember the April 3rd exhibition game as the night my wife and I held hands as we explored the new Stadium. The memory will be more about holding her hand than anything else.

I love being at games with S., and we've been to a lot of them together. I treasure every minute spent sitting next to her at ballgames. Camden Yards, Wrigley Field, Citizens Bank Park. We've been together since 1997, and we've had Yankees season tickets since 1999. When talking baseball, I regularly hear myself saying "S____ and I were at that game." It's important to me.

And we've seen some great ones together. A sampler:

September 10, 1999
vs. Boston Red Sox
Instead of just the two of us, this time we were a crowd: one of my future brothers-in-law, one of my future sisters-in-law, some friends of S's from work, and a handful of those others' significant others. Some of them Bosox fans. One of the best pitching performances I've ever seen, even though it went the other way. Andy Pettitte went six innings and gave up two runs. Nice enough. But Pedro, effing Pedro, was dealing. He hit the first batter he faced, Chuck Knoblauch, who immediately got himself caught stealing. In the second inning, the greatest Jamaican baseball player in MLB history, Charles Theodore "Chili" Davis hit a solo homer to right-center. Apart from those two at bats, Pedro Martinez owned the Yankees. He struck out 17. He got even better as the innings went on, fanning eight of the last 9 batters of the game. It was a complete game 1-hitter; only Knoblauch's HBP and Chili's HR foiled what might have been a perfect game for Pedro.

It was all over before 10 PM. The Red Sox, with a starting lineup of where-are-they-nows like Veras, Huskey, Buford, and Lewis, beat the Yankees 3-1.

Game 4
1999 World Series
vs. Atlanta Braves
The only World Series-clinching game I've ever attended. The Yankees led by three runs for most of the game. When Roger Clemens came out of the game with two outs in the 8th, he'd given up just a run on four hits. He had gotten shelled against the Red Sox in the ALCS, so there was a lot of redemption in this effort. In my mind, it was the first time he felt like a "Yankee" to me. The strangest and most memorable moment of this night came immediately following the final out: Chad Curtis caught the fly ball that ended the game and won the World Series for the Yankees, and the players raced toward the mound to celebrate. I watched my favorite player, Paul O'Neill. He was running faster than the rest. But he never converged with the others. He was heading toward the dugout, his left hand shielding his eyes. I saw Joe Torre approach him and hug him briefly, then O'Neill bolted down the dugout steps and through the door to the clubhouse. I said to my wife (then girlfriend), "Did you see O'Neill?! He ran in. What the hell?!" We stayed at our seats watching the rest of the team celebrate on the field, near the mound. I can't remember if it was 10 minutes or 20, but after a while a message appeared on the centerfield message board reporting the death of Paul O'Neill's father early that morning.

Later, we moved down to field level for a closer look at Clemens, who was pacing the roof of the dugout and spraying fans with Champagne.

(Meanwhile, back home in my Brooklyn apartment, an engagement ring waited for our upcoming trip to Italy and my proposal in Rome.)

Game 1
2000 World Series
vs. New York Mets
The first game of the first-ever Yankees-Mets Subway Series. It was a Saturday night game, and I had to work that day. Those tickets almost burned a hole in my pocket. The work was good, at least: I was shooting segments with Destiny's Child who were (in 2000) very cool, very easy-to-work with, women. Beyoncé and I got along well, and she kidded me about not taking her to the game.

The game was scoreless until the Yankees took the lead in the sixth, followed by a Mets lead in the seventh. The Yankees tied it in the 9th when O'Neill (who fouled off pitch-after-pitch before until he drew a walk) scored on a sac fly.

My wife had a short nap during the extra innings, but woke up before the Yankees won on a bases-loaded Jose Vizcaino single in the 12th.

Some wild things happened in this game. In the 4th, Todd Zeile didn't run out a foul grounder that rolled into fair territory. Scott Brosius threw him out by about 50 feet. In the 5th, Jay Payton never left the batter's box on a nubber into the dirt near home plate. Jorge Posada tagged him out where he stood. In the 6th, Zeile hit a double off the top of the left-field wall. Thinking it was a homer, Timo Perez trotted leisurely around the bases. Derek Jeter threw him out at home by about three or four steps.

I still tease S about her falling asleep for about an inning ("Who falls asleep during the extra innings of a Mets-Yankees World Series game?!"), but in her defense this was the longest game (by time) in Series history.

Game 5
2001 World Series
vs. Arizona Diamondbacks
The first-ever World Series game played in November. Less than two months after the September 11th attacks, baseball was a comforting distraction. It's hard to tell, but it seemed like it meant something even to people outside of New York that there was a New York team in the Series.

When we got to the Stadium for Game 5, everyone was still talking about the previous night's game, which Jeter won with a walk-off home run in extra innings shortly after midnight. One of the guys sitting near us said, "Man, there'll never be another game like that." And then there was. We saw the Yankees shut down for eight innings. That was bad enough, but with the team losing and the final two games happening in Arizona, I knew this was the last time I'd see my favorite player in a game. O'Neill was expected to retire after the season. When the Diamondbacks made the last out in their half of the 9th, I stood up and said to S, "That's it, that was the last time we'll see O'Neill play." I was surprised when all 56,000 people stood up and chanted his name. Incredible.

Brosius came up in the bottom of the ninth with a runner on and two outs. He tied the game with a homer off the same pitcher Jeter had beaten the night before. The Yankees won it in the 12th inning with some small ball.

June 7, 2003
Wrigley Field
vs. Chicago Cubs
There was a lot of backstory for this game. The Yankees hadn't played at Wrigley Field in 65 years, since the 1938 World Series. (New York swept.) It matched up living legend Roger Clemens against Kerry Wood. Just shy of his 26th birthday, Wood was already looked upon as heir apparent to Clemens's power-K throne. He was just a rookie in 1998 when he tied Rocket's record 20 strikeouts in a game. Old guard, new guard. Teacher, student. Master, servant. It was all there. Oh, and also: Clemens was going for his career 300th win.

We had great seats, and sitting next to us was a very popular Cubs fan who took a liking to us. For much of the game, he very generously treated us to hot dogs, fries, popcorn, sodas, and beer.

In the 4th inning, Jason Giambi popped up to first, and Hee Sop Choi collided violently with Wood. The big guy was on the grass for a long time before an ambulance came to carry him off (double-click the photo).

After six-and-a-half innings, the Yanks were up 1-0. The Cubs had two hits and the Yankees just one. It was the Clemens-Wood battle I'd hoped for. Until the wheels came off in the bottom of 7th. Clemens put a couple guys on, and the Yankee relievers spent the rest of the game watching home uniforms circle the bases.

It was a memorable baseball road trip. A great city and a day game in a beautiful old ballpark, my wife and I, we were -- she was -- pregnant with twins. We'd been to the doctor that week for a check-up and he said everything looked great and "enjoy that trip to Chicago!" When we got back to our hotel after the game, S began to feel ill, so I think we skipped dinner to stay in the room and relax.

Back in New York a few days later we lost both babies to miscarriage on our third wedding anniversary.

When I look at photos from that weekend in Chicago, from a game and a trip we don't talk about anymore, I'm rocked by how young we look. We'll never thoroughly shake off the pain of that week, and the months that followed in 2003, but it was nice to see the Yankees/Cubs again all these years later, our two amazing sons comfortable at home while S and I walked hand in hand in a brand new park.

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* Which many refer to as "The New Yankee Stadium." I think we should start getting used to dropping the "new."

[posted with ecto]

On iTunes right now: Rock'n'roll (Original Mix) from the album Chef d'Oeuvre [Disc 2] by Métal Urbain

Download it free, here.

I Know You Got Soul. If You Didn't, You Wouldn't Be In Here.

Here is the download and the notes for today's Pointcast.

CLICK HERE TO DOWNLOAD TODAY'S POINTCAST

01 I'm Gonna Do All I Can For My Lord - John Fahey (The Legend of Blind Joe Death): Blind Joe Death was a blues guitarist who recorded one 78rpm record in the 1920s. About four decades later, John Fahey hijacked the name and used it as an alter ego, confusing the living shit out of blues purists and mouth-breathing shut-ins. His 1959 debut album had only the name "Blind Joe Death" on the cover. It had no liner notes, and no information about the identity of the musician.

Most of the BJD tracks are available on compilations Fahey released in the late 1960s When you listen to him, you can tell immediately that he was doing things on guitar that nobody else ever had. It was cool to hear Matt Ward mention Fahey on the Elvis Costello TV show. Ward is an extremely talented young man and if he says Fahey's the real deal, there can be no debate. Ward's newest record, Hold Time, is sheer perfection, and I'll get some tracks on here soon.

02 Four Winds - Bright Eyes: I was about 12 months late to the party, but at some point last year I found Cassadega, and fell over for it. There is so much good writing and good playing on it. It's one of those "no one makes records like this" records.
As with anything Bright Eyes- /Saddle Creek- /Team Love-related, a typical troop of highly skilled laborers join Conor Oberst here:
Mike Mogis: guitar
Nate Walcott: organ
Dan McCarthy (Tucksy): bass
Jason Boesel (Rilo Kiley, Jenny Lewis and the Watson Twins): drums
Anton Patzner (Judgement Day, Two Gallants): violin
Maria Taylor (Azure Ray, Now It's Overhead): vocals
Andy LeMaster (Now It's Overhead): vocals

03 Change - Killing Joke: Their 1980 debut was remastered in 2005, and it sounds real good. One of the alt bonus tracks is a dub version of "Change." Today, we get the original version, straight up, and way ahead of its time. I think I give my Killing Joke records less attention than they deserve. I'll try to amend that this weekend.

04 I Know You Got Soul - Bobby Byrd: What a voice. What a hook! The version I played was a burn of the 1971 single, but it's also on an amazing comp called James Brown's Funky People (Part 2). Hard to find, but so is love and the perfect cup of coffee. How far back do Byrd and Brown go? Way back. They met as teenagers on, of all places, a baseball field where Byrd's church team was playing against a local reformatory prison team. The not-yet-Godfather of Soul was in the lineup for the latter. They shared a love for music, and soon Byrd's family made arrangements for Brown's parole.

Byrd brought so much to the table as a vocalist and arranger (and maybe the world's first hype man!), but he probably cemented his name in history in 1970 by being the "Get on up" to James Brown's "Git up-ah" on "Sex Machine."

Listening back to the recorded Pointcast, I wonder if I could have said the name "Bobby Byrd" a few more times. What do you think? Maybe two dozen utterances weren't enough for you. Duh. I'll chalk it up to being a geeked-out old man who talks about his favorite music with the unrestrained enthusiasm of a psychotic zealot. But anyway.

05 Screamin' Fist - Viletones: They are considered one of the first (if not the first) Canadian punk bands to release a record. This single came out in 1977. Here's a great clip of a Canadian Broadcasting Company (CBC) news report from that time, where the Nehru-jacketed reporter begins, "The latest fad in popular music is punk rock..." You know it gets good from there. Hey, check it out! Even long-disbanded groups (like the Viletones) now have official websites and myspace pages.

Their earliest singles and EPs are out of print, but most of what you need is compiled on the Taste of Honey CD.

06 Don't Ha Ha - Jürgen Wenger: Popmusik über alles! From the Pop In Germany collection on Bear Family; eight volumes of novelty, curios, and solid tracks in equal doses. This one appears on Volume 3. The series features covers of Dylan, the Supremes, Hendrix, the Box Tops, even Sabbath. There's a cool pass at the Shangri-Las' "Leader of the Pack" (called "Der Feuerstuhl") by a group called Verrückte Mädchen (Crazy Girls). I'll get it on here for you soon.

Here's a clip of Casey Jones and the Governors performing their 1965 original.

I'm surprised more bands haven't covered this song. I wish we could have heard the Ramones or the Cramps bite into it. Would have been perfect for them. I looked around online and all I found as far as contemporary acts doing this song is a band from Berlin called Mr Ed Jumps The Gun. Those guys and Jürgen Wenger? Wow, what is it with Germans and this song? (While I give the Mr Ed guys cred for putting "Don't Ha Ha" out to a new generation, I have to add that the band's canon also include a version of "Smoke on the Water" for the Dance Dance Revolution game, and a cover of Plastic Bertrand's "Ça plane pour moi"... for a Pamela Anderson film flick. Their Wikipedia page has to be a joke.

07 Koladiola - Yello: From their fourth album, the underrated Stella. Nearly everyone knows them for "Oh, Yeah" which took off after it was used in the Ferris Bueller movie. It turned up in more movies and probably dozens of TV commercials after that. The song itself has become a Hollywood cliché, I think. Like "Bad to the Bone" or Jeff Buckley's version of "Hallelujah." But I digress. "Koladiola" is from the same album that "Oh, Yeah" is on; it's a much better album than you, I, or our music snob friends would have thought.

08 Set Fire to the Face on Fire - The Blood Brothers: Fye-uh! Fye-uh! Fye-uh! Another band I missed altogether. I got their 2004 album Crimes but never made time to listen. Years later, they appeared on the IFC Henry Rollins Show and shredded a version of "Set Fire...." I got my act together -- got the 2006 album Young Machetes, then went and picked up all the rest of the EPs and albums before it. It's Young Machetes that I play most often, and it's a great place to start your introduction. "Set Fire to the Face on Fire" is one of the all-time greatest side-A track-1 songs. (Great line, don't miss it: "I'm kicking snowmen like it's going out of style style style!")

Dialogue excerpt from The Shield, 2004.

09 Cyanide - The Lurkers: As long as I'm dropping opinions on all-time this and all-time that, here's another. My all-time favorite overlooked band. When friends ask to hear something new, I go back to 1976-80 era Lurkers. People freak when they hear it, and wonder how it missed them. There's a great write-up of the band on the Punk77 site. This song is from their second album God's Lonely Men. It wasn't as critically acclaimed as the debut, Fulham Fallout, which is proof that most music critics aren't worth the food they're fed.

10 Under Heavy Manners - Prince Far I: From the Trojan ROOTS box set. A great song by a reggae legend. My favorite part comes near the end, when he says, "Discipline is what the world needs today... manners and et-eh-kwett." In the mid-seventies, as Jamaica neared a virtual civil war, the Jamaican Premier declared a state of emergency, and said that the country was about to experience some "heavy duty discipline." The poor and disenfranchised knew it meant the shit was going to come their way.

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I haven't done the Friday 10s in a long long while, but it doesn't mean you had to stop. Set your mp3 player to "shuffle all songs" and let us know the first ten songs in your earholes.

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[posted with ecto]

On iTunes right now: I Hate You from the album Black Monk Time by Monks

Pot Kettle Black

In the gym yesterday, one locker's door was dangling off the top row like a broken shutter. I think it was attached by just a couple screws in the bottom hinge. I was gathering up my gear and putting my jacket on to leave when one of the employees walked over to the broken locker. He lifted the door up and pressed it shut against the back housing of the locker units. Fixed.

Except not fixed.

I wanted to say something. I wanted to say, "Hey, man, where's your common sense? Why not use the five or six active cells in your walnut-sized dollop of ectoplasmic paté that impersonates a human brain, and think about the next poor fucker who opens that locker. With no top hinge on there, what do you reckon is going to happen? Won't that three-foot high door swing down and split open the guy's skull like a lobster tail? What the hell?! That's not fixed, you douchepacker. It's half-cocked and loaded!"

I wanted to. I didn't.

Because something happened recently. Nothing tragic, just this: My son H, who will be 5 in a few months, has picked up an unkind word from a schoolmate. "Stupid." For about a week or so, he's been trying it out at home, and getting an earful of fatherly advice every time. He understands. He gets it. It's turned into an experiment for him at this point. He and I will be having a conversation about something and he'll interrupt himself to say, "I'm going to say... 'stupid.'" He'll raise an eyebrow and look at me to note the reaction this catalyst sparks from me.

"Be careful with that word, H. Don't get into trouble...."

He'll say the word and I'll tell him again that he shouldn't call people stupid. As I said, he knows it now. I think the novelty of seeing me react so seriously to the first few times he said it ("My teacher is stupid," and a phone message to his cousin that ended, "Happy birthday, stupid") caught him off guard.

"Listen to me, H. Saying things like that is like hitting someone... with words." It's a clear lesson for what is, perhaps, the worst thing he's done. But every time I discuss it with him, I feel like a fraud. I mean, his dad is a cynical and sarcastic misanthrope with a multi-functional, 24/7 insult factory operating within his cerebrum. The black and white lessons of childhood frustrate me. I can't wait until he can comprehend nuance. Once he's old enough to understand shades of grey and the subtle variations in human comportment, I can tell him what I really want to tell him. I can look him in the eyes and say it's OK to call 'em as he sees 'em. But leave words like "stupid" to the... stupid, and tongue-strafe them with style.

Years later, he and his brother will be taking me out to walk the grounds of my "living facility," when a careless attendant hurriedly slams a door in my face. My waning lucidity will allow me to witness my life's reward: hearing H snap, "Hey knuckle-fucker, you just let the door hit my father! Did you not see us here, you swag-bellied assclown?"

* * *

And as long as I'm here, there's something else. New rule: If you want to call another human being "a cancer," you yourself must have cancer. Outside of oncologists, there is apparently no group with more practical experience spotting a cancer than the professional baseball player. Once or twice per season, some overpaid hayseed identifies a former teammate as having been "a cancer in the clubhouse." Baseball's opening day for diagnoses came earlier this week when Jonathan Papelbon biopsied former Red Sox teammate Manny Ramirez, and told Esquire, "We weren't afraid to get rid of [Ramirez]. It's like cancer. That's what he was. Cancer. He had to go."

Cancer is the Adolf Hitler of cellular diseases; and it's wise not to compare anybody to either.

I can't believe the New York tabloids didn't jump at the chance for a "PAP SMEARS MANNY" headline.

Of Thee I Swing

Now that Junior's back with the Mariners, aren't we all hoping it means a long-awaited creative reunion with Kid Sensation? It's been 16 years since Power of Rhyme came out. Bring it, Seatown!

Griffey's got a nice flow on the mic, but he sounds like he's holding a toothpick in his mouth. Here's just a little bit of a taste of the bass for you.

Download "The Way I Swing (Ken Griffey, Jr.)" by Kid Sensation

[posted with ecto]

On iTunes right now: Barbra from the album Teen City E.P. 12" by Modernettes

Chin Music

I was reading the Jack Curry article in today's Times, about the owner of Barry Bonds's record-setting home run ball deciding to mark it with an asterisk before offering it to Cooperstown. That's sort of cool. I imagine the signage near the Hall of Fame's display will have language explaining why the "scarlet" ideogram is on there.

The article included a quote by a "baseball historian." I was surprised to see who it was. Pete Nash. Formerly known as Pete Nice. Formerly also known as Prime Minister Pete Nice of 3rd Bass. Did you know he was a baseball historian now? I didn't. He's written books about baseball. [1, 2]

Just stuff...
The Yankees are in the playoffs now. I'll be glad if they play the Indians in the first round, not only because they were 6-0 against Cleveland this season, but because it means the Red Sox and Angels get to bang each other's brains in. I hope that series goes the distance, and all five games are extra-inning ordeals. And I hope all that cross-country travel wears them out.

The Indians have a great pitching staff (and pitching rules October), but their lineup looks harmless.

* I watched the Yankees' postgame celebration last night, and couldn't help thinking how pointless and stupid the Champagne spraying is. It looks like the kind of thing you do because it's expected, but deep inside you feel silly.

* The National League doesn't have a team capable of beating the A.L. postseason contenders. The World Series could be a blowout.

* On the ballfield, Derek Jeter is unimpeachable. He's all hustle, and he consistently knows the right play to make. Last week, my brother-in-law asked if I'd rather have A-Rod or Jeter on Team Sticking Point. A-Rod's got more talent, strengths, and abilities, but Jeter's the guy to have. He's a hero and a future first-ballot Hall-of-Famer. But, off-the-field, Jeter's been annoying the shit out of me. He's become increasingly arrogant in post-game interviews, answering questions with snarky questions of his own. I just KNOW there are reporters wishing they could say, "Stop being a dick and just answer the question. Your night is over. I still have to write this piece. Two hours from now, while you're forking over cab fare for some model's ride home, I'll be raking over my second draft of this puffery." Not to mention that when he's not being a douche, Jeter's the most predictably boring interviewee in the clubhouse. For a while, this was good, as it helped the Yankees reshape their image from self-serving millionaires (1976-1994) to dutiful, blue-collar millionaires (1995-present). Now he's just a bore. (And for Christ's sake, stop beginning every other answer with, "Like I said..." Because you didn't. I don't know when you think you said it, but it wasn't in this interview!)

Secondly, Jeter's become a shill. Is there any endorsement deal he won't sign? Watch a Yankees game, and you'll see him on more commercials than the gecko and the cavemen combined. Colognes... deodorants... cars... trucks... credit cards, sneakers, colorful sports drinks, he hawks it all! It's obscene to watch him climb out of a $35,000 truck and brag that he just got one in red.
Thirdly... that hairstyle. Really? You're sticking with that, Jeet? It looks like someone glued a hairy rice cake to your head. (If such a thing doesn't exist, it should; if only to help make Derek Jeter halloween costumes more realistic.)

* A-Rod has become a boring and predictable interview, too. But I'll cut him some slack, because he must be shit scared that saying the wrong thing will bring the boo storms back to the Stadium. It was practically stop-the-presses earth-shattering to see him nod his head last night when a Yes reporter started a question with "With all this talk about you being the runaway MVP in the American League...".

Rodriguez is the first player to hit 50+ homers and drive in more than 150 runs in a single season since Sammy Sosa in 2001. And if you can barely see Sosa's numbers through the Stanozolol-stained glasses, you've got to look back to 1938, when the great Jimmie Foxx did it (50/175).

* Remember spring training, when Yankee fans and the New York media were sweating the How's Joe Torre Going To Get Melky Cabrera In The Lineup Dilemma? Now we look up and Melky's notched 147 games and 535 at bats so far. It's Lebowskian, how the baseball universe provides.

* I've been a Doug Mientkiewicz fan since '99, when he had a really hot week for my fantasy baseball team. He's a great fit on the Yankees, and exactly the kind of player that excels in the postseason: a smart situational hitter/great fielder. He's kind of a "discount" Paul O'Neill. (That's a compliment.)

He's a lot of fun to watch, but the ball-signing incident took the some of the polish off Shelly Duncan's shine. Mainly because he was signing for a kid. If that were an adult member of Red Sox Nation (or, best of all, that decrepit Robert Redford-clone season ticket holder behind the plate at Fenway), I'd be laughing my ass off.

* The Division Series starts Wednesday. If the Yankees remain the wild card team my tickets will be for Game 4, the following Monday.

[posted with ecto]

On iTunes right now: Mystery Achievement from the album Pretenders by Pretenders, The

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]

Tuesday Dispatch

I've been enjoying Human Weapon on History Channel. Of the two hosts, I prefer Bill Duff (the ex-football player / bodyguard / wrestler / stunt double) over the mixed martial arts champion Jason Chambers, who seems a bit arrogant and cocky around the masters with whom they are training. Chambers also tries to sneak in mentions of his fighting résumé too often, so he comes off like a tool. But beyond those minor annoyances, it's a cool show that combines geo-historical documentary with martial discipline and the infliction of pain. And that's all I ever ask of my entertainment.

-- -- -- --

Speaking of combining things that entertain me, a couple of the newest Yankees have chosen good songs for their at-bat "entrance" music. Shelly Duncan's got the White Stripes' "Icky Thump," and Wilson Betemit steps to the batter's box to "Better Man" by Pearl Jam. (That one's pretty funny, especially if he thinks it sounds like "Can't find a Bete-mit.") There's a pretty solid list of MLBers' theme songs here.

I would probably change my song every other day, but I can't find anything better than the Blood Brothers' "Set Fire to the Face on Fire." That... is... the... fucking... best. (Unfortunately, the "Listen" features at Amazon and the iTunes Store don't play the song from its incredible starting point. Download it for free -- my gift to you -- here.)

So here's a question... You've knocked the donut off the bat, tossed the pine tar onto the circle, and you're heading to the plate. What song is on the stadium P.A.?

[posted with ecto]

On iTunes right now: I Got Rhythm from the album Embassy Auditorium, 4-22-46 by Parker, Charlie

Take Me Out

My pal -- and one of my favorite writers -- Nick has another great post up over at Yanksfan vs. Soxfan. The topic is random baseball players he likes or hates and the (personalized, emotion-based) reasons why. It's good reading, as always.

For me...

Likes

Tanyon Sturtze. He came to the Yankees with a 34-41 record. He only improved as far as mediocre, BUT... while Pedro was manhandling a 90-year old bench coach, Grand Tanyon was grappling with "bodybuilder" Gabe Kapler. And Sturtze was the starting pitcher in that very game! I'll always appreciate the guts he showed.

Torii Hunter. Is there any baseball fan who wouldn't want this guy on their fave team? And it's so much fun to watch/hear his interviews, he seems a genuinely good guy.

Jim Thome. This guy is a throwback. A nice guy. Drinks beer at his locker and claims to never lifts weights.

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Hates

Curt Schilling. Quit trolling the freaking message boards, you narcissistic tool.

John McDonald. A player yelled "Ha!" or "I got it!" and made you miss a pop-up? Grow up. Ty Cobb used to fire a .22 pistol at infielders as he rounded the bases.

Crash Davis. What a smug, self-righteous bastard.

Also, why is it that all the players who PLAY the game the way it should be played (Jimmy Rollins, etc) do so quietly, while all the players who SAY they play the game the way it should be played (Josh Beckett, Paul LoDuca, Schilling, etc.) seem to deserve an ass-raping?

Welcome to the Show

Jason Giambi is getting so much heat from the gutless wonder, MLB Commissioner Bud Selig. That’s bullshit. Here is the only player who came forward to make any kind of admission of chemical enhancement use, he paid for it with his health, he made apologies, worked his ass off hard enough to be named comeback player of the year, and has recently said that the Game (players, owners, and league management) owed fans an admission that things have been fucked up. All right.

So now Selig wants to make Giambi crawl.

Giambi stepped up and did the right thing. Now, by Selig's order, if he won't give full cooperation to the Mitchell investigation – which I assume means naming names and pointing fingers – Giambi will be suspended. Selig has even said that the level of his participation will be used to determine the severity of Giambi’s punishment.

This smells awful. It’s a lose-lose situation for Giambi, who doesn’t deserve to be in that position (for all the reasons I wrote in the first paragraph). My hunch is that the investigators already have suspicions about certain players, but with little evidence or testimony there is little that can be done. Using a marquee insider like Giambi to play star witness is just a big show.

If Giambi complies (and I don’t think he will), he'll be vilified on the field and in the stands. If he does not, the Mitchell investigation will simply report allegations as facts, while Selig gives Giambi a light enough punishment to make it appear as though he chirped. It’s a classic NYPD Blue Sipowicz move.

I think Selig, being the ball-less turd that he is, would like to see Giambi deliver names in a gift-wrapped box before Bonds gets to #714. Hell, I’d like to see the truth about Bonds come to light, and I personally don’t want to see him break Aaron's record, but putting the squeeze on Jason Giambi because the commissioner won't take a stand for himself, is dirty blackmail.

Postscript: Bud Selig announced last December that he'll be retiring from his post as MLB Commissioner, and floated the name of his choice for next commish. Guess who. Really.

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[posted with ecto]

On iTunes right now: Moons of Jupiter from the album Moons of Jupiter by Scruffy The Cat

Return To Sender

So, the Yankees finally ship the Big Useless out of town after two seasons, 34 wins, and 0 World Series appearances. It's a good move to get him off the team, but, personally, I'm not convinced the Yankees are building a better starting rotation for 2007 than they've had in any of the last four seasons.

This week's Friday 10 has a 95 mile-an-hour heater and some wicked breaking stuff.

01 Crude Bomb - The Evens: For what it's worth, the first Evens CD was the first album I listened to in 2007. I brought the disk along for the families drive into Manhattan and back for a 3-year-old's birthday party on New Year's Day. The party was at an UWS Pizzeria Uno, where H got the chance to make his own pizza-for-one. It was... awesome. His first layer of sauce was a splatter that resembled a fish. Then he added a huge pile of cheese to the right side of the dough platter. The next layer of sauce he spread out to look like a sun. And then a little more cheese on the other side of the pie. Fifteen minutes later, the waiter brought it back all baked up, and H and I chowed down. It was damn good. The Evens album? Also DAMN GOOD. By now, you know the band is indie rock demi-god Ian MacKaye and his girlfriend Amy Farina, formerly of Mr. Candyeater and The Warmers. There's a new Evens disk out, and what I've heard is real good, but I'm still stuck on this first one. There's a fantastic, nearly two-year-old article from LA Weekly here. (Written by Brendan Mullen. Rather than bore you further with a tangent, I'll let you Google him at your leisure.) Check out NPR's website, it also has a bunch of Evens/Ian/Fugazi material.

02 Polly - Nirvana: From Nevermind; maybe you have it. The video Live! Tonight! Sold Out! is finally on DVD. I really really wanted it years ago, but it took forever to come out, and now I couldn't care less.

03 EMI - Sex Pistols: Speaking of DVDs, the Julien Temple-directed documentary The Filth and The Fury is fantastic. I Netflicked it last year to see it again, and I liked it even more the second time around. It's so interesting to see the part near the end when Lydon is nearly in tears over what the scene (and Malcolm) "did" to his old mate, Sid. Lydon seems to forget about the camera and speaks informally to his friend, the director, like "Oh, Julien, it was horrible...." Captivating. The version of "EMI" I heard today was the plain jane one from Bollocks.

04 Hay Wrap - Saw Doctors: A fine song on record and a great song live. They're almost always on tour, and soon they'll be in the USA. (New York show is March 10 at Nokia Theatre.) From All The Way From Tuam.

05 ESP - Buzzcocks: from their second album, 1978's Love Bites, the one with "Ever Fallen in Love" on it. Their debut, Another Music in a Different Kitchen, had come out only about seven months earlier, and they followed it up with this. That's momentum! Everywhere Love Bites was released, it came out with slight variations to the cover. To collectors, this is like a Crack/Viagra speedball. There's a cool website with all the different jackets and labels of practically every Buzzcocks release. Apparently, the rarest version of this record is a two-LP white-label test-pressing with side A on one LP and side B on the other. I've never seen it listed anywhere, but I'm looking. (Along with thousands of fanatic a-holes just like me.) This is a great album, and deserves some time in your ears.

06 Image of Me - Bob Wills & His Texas Playboys: I always loved the idea behind this song. The narrator is a guy asking his ex if she's remaking her new boyfriend "in the image of me." Badass and arrogant. It's a late-career Wills song, a cover song, and I think you'll only find it on a pair of anthologies. Mine is from the good-but-not-great-or-thorough Curb Records' Greatest Hits. A few seconds of scrolling Amazon could find you a much better comp than that one. Wills and his band were pretty amazing. As you listen, you can hear inspiration from Louis Armstrong and Tex Ritter in equal doses. The best description of BW&HTP that I've seen is from AllMusic.com, who described them as a "dance band with a country string section that played pop songs as if they were jazz numbers."

GEEK ALERT!!
07 Barbed Wire - Youth Brigade: There was a Youth Brigade that formed in SoCal in the mid 80s by the Stern brothers. They played cool punk rock that would often turn up on the soundtrack of Vision and Powell skate videos. They had great songs like "Did You Wanna Die" and "Sink With Kalifornia." This is not THAT BAND. These guys are the east coast Youth Brigade, from Washington, D.C. specifically. Which automatically means we can play the six degrees of Ian MacKaye game. The easiest angle would be that they were on Dischord Records, the label run by MacKaye, but we won't go that way. How about this one: Youth Brigade singer Nathan Strejcek was (in 1980) singer for Teen Idles, which had Ian MacKaye on bass; Youth Brigade bassist Bert Quieiroz was (in 1981) in a band called the Untouchables with Alec MacKaye, brother of Ian. This song, a really hot slice of DCHC, is from Youth Brigade's Possible EP. The title was a reference to one of the first Dischord ads, where, in a list of future releases, the small print read, "possible EP by Youth Brigade." I have the EP on Dischord #14, a vinyl comp that features the first EPs from Teen Idles, Government Issue, State of Alert, and Youth Brigade.

08 Love Will Tear Us Apart (alt) - Joy Division: I think I've gotten this one on a Friday 10 before, maybe a few months ago. This is the alt version from the b-side of the "Love Will Tear Us Apart" seven-inch on Factory Records. It's a little treblier than the A-side, with a thinner vocal. Overall, the tempo of the alt is slightly faster than the A-side. This is a great version, but the be-all, end-all version of "LWTUA" is from the band's second John Peel session, November 1979. It's out there and in print. Another great Manchester band with a brilliant and intense lead singer.

09 Have a Cuppa Tea - The Kinks: From Muswell Hillbillies. I am such a fanatic about the Kinks. As anyone who knows me already knows, I've never been a Beatles fan. They just never got to me. I could listen to about three or four of their songs, but the rest... were just OK. Where other people heard genius, I merely heard simplicity (and inferior backing vocals). When I was younger, dumber, and full of... piss and vinegar, I'd tweak people by saying I hated the Beatles and that they flat-out SUCKED. I'm older, and I've melllowed, and now I can at least just say, sure -- they were adequate, but not for my ears. Why am I writing all this in an entry for a Kinks song? Because then and now, the Kinks are the band I always throw in the ring against Beatles fans. Far superior songwriting and musicianship. And if they could have just gotten back into the U.S. after their 1965 tour (they were banned from re-entering by the U.S. government at the request of the AFM), instead of four years later, Kinkmania would be the universal descriptor. There's a great Pete Townshend quote from The History of Rock n Roll: "I always think that Ray Davies should one day be Poet Laureate. He invented a new kind of poetry and a new kind of language for pop writing that influenced me from the very, very, very beginning." There are 74 Kinks songs on my iPod. That's not nearly enough.

10 Fake Tales of San Francisco - Arctic Monkeys: I kept seeing them written up in papers and magazines, and was curious, so I stole a bunch of their songs online. Should have known better: I wasn't impressed. This song was the biggest surprise of this week's F10, as I thought I'd exterminated all the Arctic Monkeys inhabiting my hard drive.

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Do it yourself: Put your digital jukebox or mp3 player on "shuffle all songs," and let us know the first 10 out the box. Because it's Friday.
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[posted with ecto]

On iTunes right now: Stranglehold from the album Burning Ambitions (A History of Punk) by U.K. Subs

Shit. Have they become the Braves?

Yeah, I believe Joe should be fired.

Though I'm not suggesting they tie him up by the plumsack and dangle him from the Yankee Stadium flagpole, as many local writers and fans are suggesting. He's a good guy and was a great manager for certain needs the team had between 1996 and 2002; mainly ego-stroking and coddling millionaires, but those days are over. Torre has always been a great clubhouse psychologist, but a terrible baseball strategist. And the postseason isn't played in the clubhouse.

The team does indeed need a shot of passion, but I don't think Lou Piniella is the answer. Sure, he's got fire in his veins, but he's also a bad strategist who alienates too many of his players.

Of course, I'd love to see Joe Girardi come back, but that's not what's best right now -- he's cut from the Torre mold. How about Larry Bowa? He's my personal choice. (Well, my first choice is Paulie, but that's not happening.)

As far as that other disaster, I agree with a lot of people in NY; A-Rod should be traded. He's a superstar and a future hall-of-famer, and he has put up great statistics in his seasons here. (His average NY season works out to .299, 40 HRs, 119 RBI.) But, it's time to cut bait on one of the best players in the game because something went indefinably wrong with his tenure on the Yankees. Rodriguez will be an appreciated superstar for someone else, AND the Yankees will be less distracted without him. Everyone wins. (An interesting side note: Piniella, whom the NY papers would have landing a private Cessna Skyhawk behind home plate about... now, managed A-Rod during his spectacular formative seasons.)

I'm disappointed by the first-round elimination, but I'm not depressed or angry about it. The Yankees got the outcome they deserved. They played like shit, struggled against a gang of good pitchers, and lost. That's as it should be. Everyone from baseball fans to team owners love to tell you how "good pitching beats good hitting." It's just a shame Brian Cashman only remembers that adage in October. If it crossed his mind, say, around February or March or April or May or any of those months before August, there'd be more games in the Bronx this fall, and the Yankees wouldn't be slowly morphing into the Atlanta Braves of the American League. Always the bridesmaids.

Wang and Mussina carried a heavy load this year. My version of the 2007 pitching staff is those two, Proctor, Myers, Rivera, and whoever they can get in the A-Rod trade.

[posted with ecto]

On iTunes right now: Free Range from the album Code: Selfish by Fall, The

Wait 'Til Next Year

Kenny Rogers beat the Yankees like they were a Ft. Worth cameraman. That guy has been fucking New York teams' playoff chances since he was on the New York teams.

This is not good, fans. The Yankees looked flat and passionless. And when Jeter leaps for a liner and comes down with nothing but air, and starts sailing his throws wide of first... it might as well be raining frogs. Here come the four horsemen. Two wins with anemic bats and a porous bullpen is two too many wins to expect. The tards on ESPN will keep repeating that Yanks' game 4 starter Jaret Wright has "been under this pressure before -- he's pitched a seventh game of a World Series." Yes. When he was in his prime. And he lost.

[posted with ecto]

On iTunes right now: Steh auf Berlin from the album Kollaps (reissue + bonus) by Einstürzende Neubauten

"I Feel Like Metal Is My Culture"

My Yankees playoff tickets arrived yesterday. I've got "home game 2" for the ALDS (which will be against either Minnesota or Detroit), "home game 3" for the ALCS, and World Series game 6. Nice set, there. (Unfortunately, if the Yankees have home field advantage throughout, and they probably will, that ALDS game will conflict with Tilly and the Wall at Bowery Ballroom. I was really looking forward to seeing them again.)

I've only been half-interested in the first two episodes of the new series of Survivor, When Races Collide, but even half listening to last night's episode, I heard one guy spew an (unintentionally) hysterical and great line: "I feel like metal is my culture, instead of Hispanic being my culture."

Maybe today we'll get the travel call from the adoption agency. If that were the case, we figure we'd fly out of NY on Wednesday. We don't know when this call is coming, so we don't know when we're leaving. We just have to be ready. Later today, we'll drop H off at my mother and father's house to chill with them for a day and a half while S and I buy furniture, build furniture, get the crib ready, and turn the office/guest bedroom into the nursery/office. It's pretty wild to think that in five days I might be in Seoul, Korea, and I don't even know yet.

Today's Friday 10...

01 The Unheard Music - X: I saw them again last month, one night in NYC and once out in Sayreville, NJ. In New York, I thought they might have been a bit off their game. Of course they were tight, and sounded awesome, but the performance in Jersey was the better of the two. But who's complaining? A mediocre X concert is still better than a great show by _______. (How far do you want to go? Nickelback? Talking Heads? U2? Yes, yes, and yes.) The version of Unheard Music I heard was off the criminally out-of-print Live at the Whiskey A Go-Go disk.

02 It's Getting Late - Galaxie 500: I'll probably never delete Galaxie 500 tracks from my iPod. Though I rarely seek them out, I'm always happy to hear them when they come on. "It's Getting Late" is from Today. That, This Is Our Music, and On Fire are the entire officially released studio output of this great band. All three records, plus b-sides and outtakes are compiled in the box set. Dean from G500 went on to form Luna, as you know; Naomi and Damon continued recording as Damon and Naomi. I think I'm going to break a lazy habit, and pull out some Galaxie 500 disks to hear today. A Head Full of Wishes is far and away one of the best fan sites you will ever visit. It's put together flawlessly and has everything you need or need to know about Galaxie 500, Luna, and all the solo permutations (including Weeds of Eden!).

03 Lady Coca-Cola - Métal Urbain: The album this is on, Les Hommes Mort Est Dangereux, is the only one the band ever made while they were together (though I think it's a compilation of their singles). French noise terrorist Eric Débris went on to form Dr. Mix and the Remix with one or two other members of Urbain. While Dr. Mix is sort of a rock and roll noise outfit, Urbain is for sure a noise noise ensemble. Not easy listening, but great music isn't easy. Nevertheless, "Lady Coca Cola" will empty a room, if you need to be alone. Great! You can also get "Lady Coca Cola" on the Anarchy in Paris disk from Acute. Wikipedia has some Métal Urbain info, as does TrakMarx.

04 Monolith - T-Rex: From the great Electric Warrior. I must have been about ten years old when I "bought" that album. I loved it so much; cool wordplay, great riffs, and all the songs sounded like different genres. I was enthralled. (It wasn't like Kiss or the Stones or the Beach Boys at all!) When this song came on this morning, I was trying to remember how it was that I started listening to T-Rex. By the late 70s, there sure wasn't much coverage of Bolan and the group in any of the magazines I read, like Creem, Circus, and Hit Parader. I can't remember any of my friends or my older sister's friends listening to them. I honestly don't know how I started listening. Maybe I heard "Get It On" on the radio and just started tracking down the records on my own. When I was about 11, I wrote a letter to a UK address on one of the albums, and ended up joining the T-Rex Fan Club. Every month or two I'd get a newsletter and an EP or single that was only available to fan club members. I remember that one of the greatest songs I got was called "Sing Me A Song," and the sleeve said Bolan write and recorded it as the theme to a BBC television special. By now, all that fan club-only music has found the light of day on comps and reissues, but the vinyl singles I got from the club are among the most rare and valuable stuff in my collection.

05 Four Thousand Days - Luna: This is a good song from Days of Our Nights. I remember when that came out, thinking it just wasn't on par with any of the Luna records before it. It was the beginning of the era of diminishing returns for the band. I guess that makes DoON the last Luna record worth having. It's too bad they started sucking so hard; at their peak -- their Slide to Pup Tent streak -- they were among the best.

06 One Shot - Rollins Band: "You get one shot / Don't miss me" is a couplet from the Badass Hall of Fame, I think. The Nice album was pretty much kicked to the curb by critics and fans and, admittedly, it took me some time to come around to it. I kept my ears on it, and I've grown to love it. What serious fucking grooves got laid down on it! It was engineered by Clif Norrell -- a master. In the last year, I've probably listened to Nice more than any other Rollins Band record. It's still in print, but I'm sure you can find it for little more than shipping costs on eBay.

07 Perfect Circle - REM: I actually won that first REM record. I was in Seaside Heights, it was the summer of 1983, and I put a quarter down on one of those boardwalk wheel games and won the album of my choice. It was something that would happen a lot in the early 80s, because I spent so much time down the shore and when I did, I never left those album stands. Are you kidding?! The chance to win new records for just a few quarters?! I came home with armloads. Anyway, it's not hard to figure out why, even more than half my life later, a week doesn't go by when I don't listen to a song of this perfect album. I don't know if there's a remaster out there, but the mix on the CD is far inferior to the vinyl. That's not elitism or thumbing my nose at anything, it's just... there are notes and entire layers of sound that I loved on the record that are noticeably lost in the digital mix I have. Whatever. I read somewhere that the band chose to call the album Murmur because it's the easiest word to speak in the English language. That is, science has proven that saying murmur requires the least effort of the tongue, throat, lips, and larynx.
On a tangent: Did anyone else know that forty is the only number that, when spelled out in English, has its letters in alphabetical order?

08 It's A Long Way Back To Germany - Ramones: Tell me: Why was there an image of Joey Ramone on the screen during the open of FOX's Saturday afternoon game last weekend? It was part of an Audioslave music video intro that made very little sense it was an audio and video non sequiter. Maybe using Joey in the visual was someone's way of grasping for credibility. I just can't find my way to Audioslave. Can't explain why.

09 All Tomorrow's Parties - Velvet Underground: What a vocal. What a band. What an album. Henry Rollins once described Nico as "darkness and cold distance on two legs. The enchantress of the Abyss." That's perfect. I haven't seen Icon yet, but we've got it Netflixed. I'm sure it'll ship sometime after we watch the 11th season of Lost.

10 Baghdad - High On Fire: This is Matt Pike (from Sleep)'s newer band. A seriously ass-whomping outfit and a heavy record from start to finish. If you've never heard Sleep, start there with the amazing, DNA-distorting Dopesmoker cd. (It's loud, slow and low -- the guy in the apartment above mine told my wife he can hear me playing my bass. I don't play bass, but I was recently listening to Dopesmoker everyday for weeks.) Then work your way through the spinoff bands: High on Fire, Om, and Kalas. You won't be disappointed; they'll smash your mind to pieces -- in a good way.

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Now you do it: Put your mp3 player or digital jukebox on "shuffle all songs." It's Friday, so let us know the first 10 songs you hear.

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[posted with ecto]

On iTunes right now: Buggin' Out from the album The Anthology by Tribe Called Quest, A

You Know?

I'm watching the Yankees postgame wrapup show on YES, and I am -- again -- curious about why Hideki Matsui still needs a translator. He's been here an awful long time to still need it. The translator is even translating the questions, not just Matsui's answers.

But that's one thing.

The other is the fact that Matsui's translator suffers from You Know Disease. Here's are translations of two of H.M.'s answers tonight:

"Yeah, you know, I mean, as a Yankee, you know, player... of the Yankees, I think it's, you know, I mean, it's like, the greatest moment, you know, to be able to do a curtain call."

"You know, I mean, regardless of what's going on, you know, with the game... you know, there's kind of like a sense that, you know, regardless of what happens... that, uh... you know, somehow, you know, we're gonna come out, you know, on the winning side."

Wow. Now, assuming that Matsui is not actually saying all those you knows (because why would the translator repeat them?), I can't understand this at all. Phrases like "you know," and "I mean," and the word "like," are like aural commas in a conversation. They act as cues that the speaker has more words to come... as soon as he thinks of them. It's like me telling you, you know, I have more to say, so don't stop listening yet. I am, you know, trying to choose the right, you know, words.

But why does a translator need to do this? That's a really bad habit, if you turn "I just want to go out and play my game. I'm not looking at the stats or the numbers. All I care about is that we win ballgames" into:

"I just want to, you know... go and and play my game. I mean, you know, I'm not looking at the, you know... stats...."

Is this guy even translating? Or is he making it up as he goes along?

[posted with ecto]

On iTunes right now: Someday from the album Is This It? by Strokes, The

Chin Music

I'm happy with the Yankees Abreu/Lidle acquisitions this weekend. Not because Abreu will add "pop" to the lineup as many say (he might, but he may not be that type of hitter anymore), but for two other reasons: 1) his tendency to draw walks will stretch innings (and opposing pitchers) and 2) Lidle is a big improvement over Sidney Ponson.

But I am especially glad they made the trade for Wilson yesterday. They added offense, deepened their squadron of pinch hitters, and didn't lose an arm to do it. Very nice deal. I hope the lineup tonight (and until Cano comes back) looks like this:
CF Damon
SS Jeter
DH Giambi
3B Rodriguez
RF Abreu
C Posada
1B Wilson
LF Cabrera
2B Cairo

They can win with that lineup, I think. Plus, it gives their bench some depth. Remember the late 90s, when pinch hitters like Strawberry, Raines, or Davis could come off the bench and worry the opposition? Bernie's no Straw, for sure... but I love him coming in against lefties. And, on those days when Bernie is DH, you've got Wilson -- who's a very good pinch hitter -- on the bench, to tighten up the defense late in the game. I'd like to see Phillips stick around, because I think he'll be a good player... it just won't happen this season.

I hope Torre doesn't occasionally put Bernie back in center as he hints he might. I love Bernie. Love everything about him. But he shouldn't play centerfield again until Old Timer's Day.

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And also? My son said "coffee" this morning. Je suis un papa fier!

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[posted with ecto]

On iTunes right now: Out Of The Question from the album Wall Of Noise by Doctor Mix And The Remix