Friday, July 05, 2013

Eat My Speakers XII

Melvins - Everybody Loves Sausages

When a covers album is released by a band, it is usually a sign of their decline and slide into oblivion. Rules get thrown out when dealing with the Melvins, though. When they do a covers album (and they have before, see 2000's release The Crybaby), it just seems more like a party. This is just them blowing off steam and having a great time with some favorite tunes and good friends. The Melvins are far from sliding into oblivion, having put out  their most solid material since their major label run in the nineties with the last few albums for Patton's Ipecac label. Buzzo is still a force to be reckoned with, and Crover is still the best rock drummer since Bonham.

The selection of songs is wide and varied. They do Queen, Venom, The Jam, The Kinks, The Fugs...even Divine. The guests are also a real treat. Mark Arm lends his vocals to their cover of The Scientists - Set it on Fire, and it feels more like classic Mudhoney than anything Mudhoney has done in the past decade. Trevor Dunn even shows off his voice on a cover of Pop-O-Pies - Timothy Leary Lives. Buzz even does a solo cover of Heathen, a Throbbing Gristle tune, to close the LP.

Two tracks stand above the rest, though. Jello Biafra joins for a cover of Roxy Music's - In Every Dream Home A Heartache; where Biafra seems to be channeling Vincent Price singing for Bauhaus.
The song that completely justifies this release though, and is worth far more than the price of admission, is Jim Fucking Foetus lending his presence to an oddly faithful and rollicking cover of Bowie's - Station to Station. I can only hope for an album w/ Thrilwell and the Melvins to show up sometime in the near future; oh what wonderful and apocalyptic noise that would be.


This is just a really fun and rocking album. Its a damn shame that the fantastic and utterly delightful McCartney cover - Let Me Roll it, from the Melvins Lite album - Freak Puke, wasn't saved for this. It would fit right in.

Shannon and the Clams - Dreams in the Rat House

This album can best be described as a dream-melding of the Misfits and Annete Funicello. It is beach music for the damned. At first listen, I thought to myself..."self, this is decent stuff. an interesting throwback to surf-rock". Then, after finding myself dancing around the house to it, without ant memory of queuing it up, I started paying attention. Listen to the tracks, "In The River" and "If I Could Count" at your own risk. this is highly addictive music.


Meat Beat Manifesto - Storm The Studio R.M.X.S.

Yeah, okay...this album came out a decade ago. I know.
I reserve the right to dredge up stuff from the past and shove it back into your slack-jawed visage, my funny droogs.

"In the beginning there was Jack, and Jack had a groove; and from this groove came the groove of all grooves..."
And thus begins one of the greatest tracks ever to hit a laserlit, drug-ridden dancefloor. That slapdrum-beat never gets old. Dangers is as important to the American electronic music scene as Detroit is.
Two people made Chicago's WaxTrax legendary, Jourgensen and Dangers. Always ahead of the curve, providing syncopation we haven't heard since the thirties...Dangers pulls us close to his breast and proceeds to blow our mind. This album lets some of the brightest lights in electronic tunes remix his tracks into a veritable cornicopia of post-rave decadence.
If you have to have a MBM hit, but don't have a new release to soothe that savage need (and I find myself in this position fairly often), dig up this oft-overlooked remix-album. Jack Dangers is always at least a decade ahead of the curve. That means that this album is just now relevant and deserves another listen.
Genuflect and enjoy.




Sunday, June 30, 2013

Eat my speakers XI


High On Fire - Spitting Fire vol 2

I've always been one to proclaim a band "not heavy enough". While fostering an eclectic taste in music, when it comes to metal, I want face melting, glass shattering, sludgefury.

So few bands stack up.

High on Fire is like somebody gave Lemmy from Motorhead a bunch of meth and switchblades. Then he recruited a badger to play drums and an ex-melvins bassist.These guys pulverize. If you doubt it, just give a listen to Bloody Knuckles from the last LP.
Der Vermis Mysteriis was the most balls out album of 2012, and now we get a couple of 12" live sets from these guys. It's worth it if only for Rumors of War & Snake For The Divine





The Uncluded - Hokey Fright

Aesop Rock & Kimya Dawson spent some time together and this was what happened. 
I am a fan of both and love that they are working together. However, this album feels more like a series of vignettes of what could be. Some of the very best stuff here are just pieces of songs. Honestly, Kimya shows her chops here better than she ever did w/ the Moldy Peaches. Aesop is and always will be a linguistic anomaly, able to spin rhymes with acuity unseen outside of a Dose-One LP.  However, as you will see if you give this album a chance, Kimya actually outshines Aesop a few times. The album is fantastic, nothing you will find elsewhere....but I feel that it could be so much more. Give it a listen for yourself and let me know what you think. I will be wearing this out, regardless. It is a really cool release. I find myself going back and listening to Skelethon (Aesop's 2012 release) with a closer ear afterward. It is apparent that he was producing these. It is also apparent that he is coming into his own. Blockhead's student might have snatched the pebble from the teacher's hand. He is far more subtle than I gave him credit for when his album dropped last year.

Friday, June 14, 2013

Eat My Speakers

Father John Misty - Fear Fun

I'm pretty late to this album. Like, a year. That's fine. I have time. I was there when he was drumming for the Fleet Foxes, even if I wasn't there for this release.
However, it is a release that makes me sad that I missed a year of enjoying.  I find myself playing it in loops  while I do other stuff and singing or whistling along. The tunes are basic Americana groove, but Tillman's voice adds layers to the melody that makes everything work. His voice is reminiscent of Grant-Lee Philips at times, but with grander range and a different scope.
If you ran this album into the ground six months ago, ignore my praise, you already understand. If you haven't, I suggest you start running this album right into the ground.

Tee Pees 1-12


Queens of the Stone Age - ...Like Clockwork

I had been waiting for this release for about a year. I've listened to it countless times, listened to the back catalouge and compared, came back and listened some more. What can I say? Homme's stuff gets better and better. What I love about QOTSA is that they don't mind screwing with your expectations for a tune, but Homme seems to have some intrinsic idea of the perfect pop song guiding his bombing-of-Dresden chops. Grohl pounding away on the drums through five of the tracks helps too. There was a ton of, "oh, guess who is guest starring on the album" articles (reznor, Elton John, etc etc) I couldn't tell you where they show up. It just sounds like a solid QOTSA record, which is the best thing it could be. Hell, it's the best thing they've done since Lullabies.
I like Homme's vocal stretches here. He will never be Mark Lanegan, but he doesn't have to be. I never felt that there could be a better vocal from somebody else. These all feel like songs he has been writing for six years. He should be singing them.
Was it worth the wait?

Is a sunrise?

QOTSA - If I Had A Tail



Purson - The Circle and the Blue Door

I have such a weakness for great female vocals. This album is so much better than folk suggest. Think if Concrete Blonde did carnival calliope music with the surviving members of Jethro Tull. Seriously, if you dug Mexican Moon or Thick as a Brick, give this a chance. I really want to hear Matt Berry do a few songs with them. It would be epic.[at least let them cover Opium]

Purson - The Contract



Sam Amidon - Bright Sunny South

Sam Amidon has a new album out. What the hell are you doing? Go listen to it!

Sam Amidon - My Old Friend







Thursday, June 13, 2013

It’s a wonder that those guns Don’t point at you...




I am ever on the edge of musical snobbery. Left to my own devices, I delve deeper and deeper into a sonic scenery filled mostly with artistic gibberish and noise. Honestly, I enjoy it. Music from the very edges of human endurance massages a part of my brain that nothing else can quite reach (well, nothing short of Burroughs, Lynch and young Cronenberg). If left alone for more than a few days, you might walk in and find me dancing to Merzbow's greatest hits, the aural equivalent of white noise and flatulence; and I will be wearing a shit eating grin; and I will do my best to convince you that it is beautiful, if you just listen.
Luckily, I am rarely left alone for more than a few days at a time.
I can be counted on to diatribe at length about the shit you find on the radio, about how sad the state of top 40 is, about the race to the lowest common denominator. If given a wide enough soapbox, I will explain how the only real music today is to be found hiding at the fringes, a snipe only the boldest are willing to hunt.
I'm a bit of an idiot.


Pop music is, and will ever be, a collection of mostly crap. However, there is always some gold amongst the shit, if you are willing to get your hands dirty looking for it. I don't know if the gold gets radio play. I haven't turned on the radio to listen to music in years. For all I know, it might be playing such shining, pure genius that the heavens open in rapture as soon as I tune in (although, I doubt it). I'm scared to look. Last time I was exposed to popular radio, I found out who Nikki Minaj was. It will take me some time to recover from that.

However, the Queens of the Stone Age just topped Billboard. Maybe I should look more often.

Saturday, August 27, 2011

Some words from P. K. Dick

"It is sometimes an appropriate response to reality to go insane."


"Reality is that which, when you stop believing in it, doesn't go away."


"The true measure of a man is not his intelligence or how high he rises in this freak establishment. No, the true measure of a man is this: how quickly can he respond to the needs of others and how much of himself he can give."


"My schedule for today lists a six-hour self-accusatory depression." 


"The basic tool for the manipulation of reality is the manipulation of words. If you can control the meaning of words, you can control the people who must use them."


"No single thing abides; and all things are fucked up."


"Don't try to solve serious matters in the middle of the night."


"If you think this Universe is bad, you should see some of the others."


"Because today we live in a society in which spurious realities are manufactured by the media, by governments, by big corporations, by religious groups, political groups...So I ask, in my writing, What is real? Because unceasingly we are bombarded with pseudo-realities manufactured by very sophisticated people using very sophisticated electronic mechanisms. I do not distrust their motives; I distrust their power. They have a lot of it. And it is an astonishing power: that of creating whole universes, universes of the mind. I ought to know. I do the same thing."


"You will be required to do wrong no matter where you go. It is the basic condition of life, to be required to violate your own identity. At some time, every creature which lives must do so. It is the ultimate shadow, the defeat of creation; this is the curse at work, the curse that feeds on all life. Everywhere in the universe."


"Certainly it constitutes bad news when the people who agree with you are buggier than batshit." 


"Maybe each human being lives in a unique world, a private world different from those inhabited and experienced by all other humans. . . . If reality differs from person to person, can we speak of reality singular, or shouldn't we really be talking about plural realities? And if there are plural realities, are some more true (more real) than others? What about the world of a schizophrenic? Maybe it's as real as our world. Maybe we cannot say that we are in touch with reality and he is not, but should instead say, His reality is so different from ours that he can't explain his to us, and we can't explain ours to him. The problem, then, is that if subjective worlds are experienced too differently, there occurs a breakdown in communication ... and there is the real illness."


 "A man is an angel that has gone deranged."


"This, to me, is the ultimately heroic trait of ordinary people; they say no to the tyrant and they calmly take the consequences of this resistance."


"Everything in life is just for a while."


"I never felt like that before. Maybe it could be depression, like you get. I can understand how you suffer now when you're depressed; I always thought you liked it and I thought you could have snapped yourself out any time, if not alone then my means of the mood organ. But when you get that depressed you don't care. Apathy, because you've lose a sense of worth. It doesn't matter whether you feel better because you have no worth."


"There will come a time when it isn't 'They're spying on me through my phone' anymore. Eventually, it will be 'My phone is spying on me."


"I guess that's the story of life: what you most fear never happens, but what you most yearn for never happens either. This is the difference between life and fiction. I suppose it's a good trade-off. But I'm not sure."


"The pre-Socratic Greek philosopher Parmenides taught that the only things that are real are things which never change... and the pre-Socratic Greek philosopher Heraclitus taught that everything changes. If you superimpose their two views, you get this result: Nothing is real." 


"I want to write about people I love, and put them into a fictional world spun out of my own mind, not the world we actually have, because the world we actually have does not meet my standards. Okay, so I should revise my standards; I'm out of step. I should yield to reality. I have never yielded to reality. That's what SF is all about. If you wish to yield to reality, go read Philip Roth; read the New York literary establishment mainstream bestselling writers….This is why I love SF. I love to read it; I love to write it. The SF writer sees not just possibilities but wild possibilities. It's not just 'What if' - it's 'My God; what if' - in frenzy and hysteria. The Martians are always coming."


"There is no route out of the maze. The maze shifts as you move through it, because it is alive. "


"I became educated to the fact that the greatest pain does not come zooming down from a distant planet, but from the depths of the heart. Of course, both could happen; your wife and child could leave you, and you could be sitting alone in your empty house with nothing to live for, and in addition the Martians could bore through the roof and get you." 


"The distinction between sanity and insanity is narrower than a razor’s edge, sharper than a hound’s tooth, more agile than a mule deer. It is more elusive than the merest phantom. Perhaps it does not even exist; perhaps it is a phantom. "


"I'm not much but I'm all I have."


"If I'd known it was harmless, I'd have killed it myself!"


"Truth, she thought. As terrible as death. But harder to find."


"Reality denied comes back to haunt."


"How undisturbed, the sleep of the foolish."


"Fish cannot carry guns."


"The cries of the dead are terrible indeed; you should try not to hear them."


"A weird time in which we are alive. We can travel anywhere we want, even to other planets. And for what? To sit day after day, declining in morale and hope."


"I like her; I could watch her the rest of my life. She has breasts that smile." 


"Grief reunites you with what you've lost. It's a merging; you go with the loved thing or person that's going away. You follow it a far as you can go.
But finally,the grief goes away and you phase back into the world. Without him.
And you can accept that. What the hell choice is there? You cry, you continue to cry, because you don't ever completely come back from where you went with him -- a fragment broken off your pulsing, pumping heart is there still. A cut that never heals.
And if, when it happens to you over and over again in life, too much of your heart does finally go away, then you can't feel grief any more. And then you yourself are ready to die. You'll walk up the inclined ladder and someone else will remain behind grieving for you."

"What they do not comprehend is man's helplessness. I am weak, small, of no consequence to the universe. It does not notice me; I live on unseen. But why is that bad? Isn't it that way? Whom the gods notice they destroy. Be small... and you will escape the jealousy of the great."


"I've seen things you people wouldn't believe. Attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion. I watched C-beams glitter in the dark near the Tannhauser gate. All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain."


"A human being without the proper empathy or feeling is the same as an android built so as to lack it, either by design or mistake. We mean, basically, someone who does not care about the fate which his fellow living creatures fall victim to; he stands detached, a spectator, acting out by his indifference John Donne's theorem that 'No man is an island,' but giving that theorem a twist: that which is a mental and a moral island is not a man."


"How'd you like to gaze at a beer can throughout eternity? It might not be so bad. There'd be nothing to fear." 


"God is dead,' Nick said. 'They found his carcass in 2019. Floating in space near Alpha.'
'They found the remains of an organism advanced several thousand times over what we are,' Charley said. 'And evidently could create habitable worlds and populate them with living organisms, derived from itself. But that doesn't prove it was God."


"Science fiction writers, I am sorry to say, really do not know anything. We can't talk about science, because our knowledge of it is limited and unofficial, and usually our fiction is dreadful." 










Sunday, July 31, 2011

Spotify and the Death of Deep Cuts



First, let me just say....I love Spotify. It changes everything. I know there have been other companies who have tried the same thing, Rhapsody, Microsoft's own ZunePass.. but these companies all seemed to be in the iTunes business. They were music stores that let you listen to what you liked, but much of the focus was still on the purchasing of tracks to keep. Loading your MP3 player.

Spotify, as it is structured right now in the US, is simply a Cloud based music collection. Access to 15 million tracks in a decent interface, Ad supported (Pandora's popularity proved this works well enough), and offering a couple of improved pay services.

I have a feeling this is the way everyone will soon consume music. If Google Music ever gets out of Beta, much of people's collections will migrate to the cloud, and off their gadget's hard drives. Amazon has already opened up a service for this, and Apple's iCloud is also trying to cash in. 

Of course, there will always be folks who have to physically have their collection, even if that means it is just sitting on drives around their house. Hell, I have somewhere north of a Terabyte of music around the house. Honestly, I welcome a service that will sort and catalogue millions of tracks for me.It is't an easy job, and at a certain point takes the fun out of things. This switch isn't going to happen overnight, but all the signs are there.

Soon all media will be streamed, on demand, from server farms we never see. We will pay to access collections it would take us decades to amass. Look at it this way: if an average album contains 12 tracks, Spotify offers  1.25 million albums (and counting) for your listening pleasure. Sure, they don't have the Beatles, or Zeppelin, or even Tool; but seriously, do you not have these albums already?

As much as this sea change excites me, there are aspects of it that I really hate to see. This direct access to all could change the core format of music: the album.

It has been coming for a while. iTunes was a serious wound to the album, with easy downloads to all the popular music, iPods everywhere filled with favorite songs formed into playlists. Tradition is hard to break, though. The album seems to have weathered that. We still buy music in album containers, because that is how artists release them. Can it weather a world where we do not buy the music, though?

Really, that is mostly academic. What happens will happen, and the market and listener's tastes will decide in the end. What saddens me the most is the inevitable end of the Deep Cut.

At one time, we bought an album, invested some amount of time and money in the purchase, and wringed all the enjoyment we could out of it. We put the album on and listened to every track. We gave songs that didn't strike our fancy at first listen time to make places of their own in our head. After a while, many of these tracks became my very favorites, the radio singles my least liked.

Maybe it was the way we listened. With vinyl, you put the record on, and only got up to flip it over. Sure, with a little effort, you could skip straight to the track you wanted, but this was a rare occurrence. One side might have gotten more play than the other, but it wasn't too terribly common to play a single track from one album, then a single track from another album, repeated throughout your evening. Hell, that is so troublesome we pay people to do it for us at parties. With vinyl, the easiest thing to do was just listen to the album.

Cassettes were pretty similar. Advancements in technology gave us some players that would flip to side B for us automatically, and more control over picking out single tracks, but still, the easiest way to listen was an album at a time. Cassettes gave us blank media, though. Blank media was a game changer. It brought that exalted ancestor of the playlist, the Mixtape. With a mixtape, we were our own Disc Jockeys. With a little effort, we could arrange things however we wanted. It was a harbinger of things to come.

Compact Discs were the first real blow to deep cuts. With simple (and just as importantly, accurate) one button track skipping, we could easily redact a song from the album, like it was never  there, as long as we had the remote handy.
Certain songs had less of a chance to sneak into our heads. Some tracks were now less likely for us to ever get to know them. Still, we bought albums, and many of us listened to them from beginning to end (no flipping sides!) because we just shelled out $15 or $20 and we were going to get our money's worth. Some of us listened to the whole thing out of habit. We listened to the whole record when it was records, the whole tape when it was tapes, and the whole CD now that it was Discs. Habits are hard to break. The jewel case was like a record sleeve with a better spine, and they looked so good there all lined up on the shelf. In our hearts, the album was still king.

Mp3s and the digital revolution was the big shift. No container, no jewel case. The album now was just an idea. A comfortable way for us to relate to how artists released their work, and a convenient form for record companies to release it. Sure, they still sell CDs (I think...), but when was the last time you spent an hour browsing the racks at a record store? I can't even think of a store dedicated to selling compact discs within a half hour's drive from here. When was the last time you saw someone with a portable compact disc player on their side? The mass of music has gone completely digital, and we have to live with all the good and bad that brings.

The question now is, how long does the album persist? How long until musicians are putting out 3 or 4 new tracks every four to six months, rather than an album every year or two? Even with the album, or at least the idea of the album, still with us, how many of us listen to whole albums, beginning to end? With all that music right at our fingertips, it is a great temptation to skim the cream right off the top. Songs that don't catch our fancy right away are likely to never get another listen. Why would they? It isn't like we are stuck with them, property that is our responsibility to get to know. There are tens of millions of other tracks just waiting for a click of the mouse or flick of the finger for their turn at us. And what is wrong with that, you ask? Maybe nothing.

It scares me though. My musical tastes have been acquired. I did not only listen to what I liked. I found artists who did things I liked, and let them show me other things. I did not take to much of this "other" at first, but trusting the artist, I kept at it. Eventually, I came to understand a little more of what was going on with these songs that I didn't originally care for...whose melody didn't match the beat properly, or was too slow and melancholy, or too fast and frenetic. Eventually I came to like this stuff, and was grateful for the artist including it. My horizons broadened. My tastes developed. Many of my very favorite songs take a few listens to initially get comfortable with.
How often will this happen if we have no real reason to give a song a second chance, much less a third and fourth?

It is possible that I am worried over nothing; that music will keep growing and evolving like it always has, even benefiting from being free of that prison called the album, that music was never meant to be sorted into boxes, that each song is a jewel meant to stand on its own, judged for its own particular sparkle and clarity.  Maybe so. Change is good, right? I guess we will have to wait and see.

My best wishes to Spotify. I like the service, and will continue to use it. For now though, I will keep listening to albums, those convenient little meals of music, looking for morsels I have never tried before. For me, nothing has really changed except who is serving it up. Oh, and the menu. The menu has gotten so much bigger.

not completely forgotten



I have been toying with the idea of starting up a blog for random musings, stuff that would arise over a drink if I had time for things like that more than twice a year. Things I wouldn't mind getting out of my head and putting down somewhere, even if I am the only one who would read it.
Then I remember, I have a blog. Mothballed, in the internet attic, untouched for years....
Instead of doing all the work in setting up another one, I'm dusting the cobwebs off this one.

Besides, I like the name.


93 93/93

Tuesday, April 29, 2008

R.I.P.


Albert Hofmann passed away at his home at 9am on Tuesday April 29, 2008 of a heart attack at the age of 102.
He was one incredibly important individual.
May we all live to see more like him.

Erowid Albert Hofmann Vault

How did I miss this?



I have spent the evening drinking Appleton rum and watching the first season of Spaced. I've been a big fan of the Pegg/Wright duo since Shaun of the Dead.

I had heard tales of some fantastic but short lived series which ran on BBC 4, a series which served as a harbinger of comedy to come. A series I had never bothered to track down.

Thanks to the wonder of modern technology, I have both seasons sitting lazily on my drive. There are not many of them, but if the second season can be judged in any way by the first, they are absolute fucking jewels...every single one.

Do yourself a solid; lay eyes on this one.