Infamous Butcher of Prose

I just finished one of those 33 1/3 little books on Reign in Blood, and it was terrible. Atrocious writing, few insights, poorly organized- I'm too annoyed to go on. That's your heads up, rocker. Did find the King Tuff record today and a Bottle and Skulls lp for a buck, so let's call it a draw.

Dago Tops Micks!

Warriors 99

Celtics 89

Bellineli scores 22, then goes home to girlfriend.

Walking the Lake

I walked from my house down to the lake this afternoon, after a physical therapy session in which I almost threw a crunchy lesbian through a six-foot mirror. Mandana brought memories of getting thrown out of my apartment when my neighbors said it was like living next to Wayne’s World. Sadly, no one mentioned Tony by name in the affadavit. I noticed Rod Dibble is still doing his thang at The Alley, which is impressive given I thought he gasped his last breath the night we got banned from that place forever. Walden Pond books is still run by aging hippies waiting for the white Che to lead them. I’m pretty sure that Ethiopian joint is running guns for terrorists. I know that’s true of the Grand Lake theater, cuz there ain’t no way that dude could pay his rent otherwise. Despite the unbearable smell at the southeast end of the lake, I still enjoy making it around. I heard a literal drug deal while the dude puffed away on a brown cigarillo, followed cellulite so jiggly I had to stop and gather my balance, heard one mother call her son a “fucking laughingstock and a joke,” and noticed the Oakland Boathouse was being redone into a lakeside restaurant by the folks who brought you the Beach Chalet. Gentrification is a tough sell by the lake where the bodies never pop, but I wish them well. Mostly, I couldn’t help thinking how relentlessly tired Grand Avenue continues to look. Some may find it funky and multiculturally vibrant, but I find it depressing. Every storefront just looks worn. Granted, The Serenader may have the greatest potential for any nightclub in the Bay Area, but who dares enter to find if it’s for sale? Hell, even The Golden Bear is gone, not that I ever went there after 1992, but it’s always nice to know just in case, ya know? Well, it’s been a long time since I’ve lived down there, but Smitty’s has just lost its appeal. I’m a fucking yuppie scum and I don’t even care anymore. I spent 8 dollars for a small beer at The Trappist the other night and I felt privileged for the opportunity. I’m listening to Slayer as I type but what's a soundtrack. Just another suburban juicer looking for a reason.

I prayed for you heathen bastards.....in Polish.

The View From Above

I decided to walk in the cemetary this afternoon, perhaps precipitated by the Oblivians Play Nine Songs With Quinton blasting in my headphones, or maybe just multiple injuries, a recent landmark birthday or the cold, dry weather doing wonders for my thinning hair- who's to say, but the air was fresh and the grounds seemingly endless as I gazed up that big green hill at the rich folks' mausoleums staring down like the Capulets and Montagues were still battling for supremacy in altitude. Thought I might feel a tad guilty for exercising where others mourn but that concern was quickly assuaged when the first car I passed had a young woman with her pink All Stars sticking out the window and her eyes buried in a book- daddy's favorite? Not a minute later I spied a middle-aged woman looking around suspiciously while her dog peed on a tree. I saw no doggy bag in her hand, so I suggest you tread carefully on your next Sunday afternoon visit. Ever spent a considerable time looking at tombstones? Can never tell the motivations/reasons behind the size and shape of each one. Does height alone equate to the love your family felt for you? Do they just have the cash to buy off the guilt for leaving you in a rest home those last twenty years? Should the giant ones really be placed next to the puny ones? How does that make the loved ones visiting the puny ones feel? Cheap? Inferior? Unequal in the eyes of God? Or can they spin it Christian fashion, making the buyers of large tombstones rich men who will never make it into heaven? By that logic, an unmarked grave is the ticket upstairs, a true sign of ascetic discipline, even posthumously. These are confusing questions for you believers. I hope you're thinking about them and notifying your attorneys accordingly.

The last folks I saw on the way out were two older gentlemen wearing cameras around their necks, presumably to confirm the bitches were still dead, perhaps a Yuletide tradition followed by celebratory beers and pool games at the Kerry House. I then saw a sign advertising the mortuary had their own radio station for Xmas music- why would a mortuary get its own radio station for anything besides communicating with the dead? I thought my metaphysical confusion had reached a peak but there were two picketers outside the big building on the other side of the gate protesting unfair labor practices in the crematorium. Let your mind wander on that one for awhile.

more.....

Hot Dog Nirvana

 

Nobunny=#1

I'm still trying to figure out how everyone didn't make Nobunny #1.

Lovesick Ain't No Good

Do you like Spiritualized? I like Spiritualized. No matter how bombastic Mr. Pierce gets, I lap up all the dopesick longing. More oboes? Yes, more oboes. Here’s your suicide note on cello. Your farewell to rehab on French Horn. Could the man sound any more weary? Apparently, the new record, which I neglectfully omitted from my industry-rattling top-of-the-year list, was written, recorded and mixed while he was lying comatose in a London hospital. The priest read last rites at the end of each take, to consecrate the figurative and nearly literal dead. I heard he lived to play Letterman in a 13th Floor Elevators t-shirt. The reviews were good. The new record, Songs in A&E, is terrific. I know because I’ve been listening to it as my late-Sunday-afternoon coolout record for months, the only thing that can ease me down from Little League. Lovesick dopesick hatesick- it’s all part of the same disease, and I got it every Sunday. Nice to know somebody takes it further and then brings it back to salve suburban pain. The grass is always filled with more blood-drenched syringes on the other side.

My Cock is Huge

To combat the back pain you should be asking me about every waking moment of your day, I’ve been walking. Given that driving sends stiletto pains down my atrophied leg, I take off from the house and head in one of two directions- pretty neighborhood or dirty city hike. The latter wins for obvious reasons, as you can at least divide the stroll in two. OK. The point. All that me time is dangerous on the consciousness front, so I try to keep the bad powers at bay with the ipod, which seems to fly in the face of everything I’ve ever said about everything. Who listened? The point- The Jesus and Mary Chain do the long sidewalking as well as any other 80s band trying to play the big cool. I dug the whole of 21 Singles and almost shit my middle-aged pants in a whole new way. Yes, headphones bring production values in a way vinylphiles run from on their way to speeddating classes, and that bigness makes the music much, much more powerful. Sound matters on the avenue. Whispered confessionals never sounded so inspirational when you’re pushing the big hill of Moraga. I can understand the later sucking, but can you dig the glory of the peak years? Take the long walk.

"This is for you, you dog!"

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N_qpTy-i564

Bring Me the Head of Sir Richard Branson

This was the best year for records I can remember in a long while. Even the Bay Area blasted out some gems- hard to imagine that three of my top five are from around here. Psychefunkapus, who knew ya? Usually I scramble to fill out ten, and that requires a quality stretch of great Christian generosity. I like all of these records. Quite a bit, actually. Really.

17. Hank IV- Refuge in Genre- I don’t hear the big highs from the first one, but this may be more consistent, and these guys continue to destroy live. More quality from Frisco- let the economy tumble into the sea and let the rockers take up residence amongst the ashes.

16. Cheap Time- S/T- half great debut from Mr. Novak and his pretty boys- this could use a little more variety but still the winners win big. Boomer, I see a huge upside.

15. The Nodzzz- S/T- good-time nerd rock that’s over almost before you can say four-eyes, these local poindexters knock out one of the best tunes of the year in “In the city (Contact High)” (amazingly, not a Turner cover). Couldn't hate you if this grated, but open those wings and let the love inside, hater.

14. Davila 666- S/T- Puerto Rican Black Lips would be the lazy shorthand, but given I can only sit for three minutes at a time before seizing up from back pain, I’m going with it.

13. Andre Williams and the New Orleans Hellhounds- Can You Deal With It? - Andre hasn’t lusted after longed for luxuriated in so much pussy since Silky. I believe he uses the word more than ‘the.’ Filthy party spinner of the late-night booty call motivational anthem. Check.

12. Brother JT3- Jelly Roll Gospel- brownnosing fanboy that I am, if it’s JT, I’m gonna love it, so a number eleven next to his name suggests this is a lesser effort. I still like it, but a couple of pseudo-reggae beats is perhaps evidence that the bong should come off the coffee table and the heavy lysergics man should be resummoned.

11/10. Jay Reatard- Matador Singles and ITR singles- what can you say at this point? The hits keep coming, and while the Matador collection is a bit more spotty, it’s still a purty amazing thing in this year of Obama to write a single a month- who does he think he is, John Fogerty (whoops, he wrote three hit fantastic albums in a year). Hate him all you want, but you can't deny the songs.

9. Eddy Current Suppression Ring- Primary Colours- I’m a little disappointed with this after the glory of the first record. These just don’t hit nearly as hard. They still hit, though, at least for the most part, even if they never quite reach those heavy punk happy grooves from the debut. "Which Way to Go" is a stone classic, though.

8. The Ooga Boogas- Romance and Adventure- again from Down Under, this be a hard’un to classify. The first song sounds like an A-Frames rip, but what follows could be Keith and Gram having a kitchen singalong. From there, they throw it all at the wall, and most of it sticks.

7. The Duchess and the Duke- She’s the Duchess, He’s the Duke- in which a garage hero from the Northwest reincarnates himself as a Greenwich Village folkie and damn if he doesn’t pull it off- completely. I find myself putting this on just to see if I’ve been suckered. Still nope. Folk rock with nay a Renaissance dress in sight. It’s a new world.

6. Pierced Arrows- Straight to the Heart- a new name but the same old game, which happens to be one of the best in the land inside my head. This is tarnished only by the shitty quality of the vinyl, which crackles and occasionally swallows up all sound. The songs themselves, however, are gold.

5. The Pets- S/T- a nearly flawless mid-tempo melodic punk record that delivers some of the best bass runs I’ve heard in this genre for ages. The anthems just keep coming, and if there’s one minor complaint it’s that there's a sameyness to the record in terms of style. That said, I wouldn’t argue with the man who countered that it’s all a samey quality top to bottom. A fantastic rookie effort.

4. Gentleman Jesse- S/T- This grew on me more than any other record. I thought it was too wimpy the first few times, but this insidious little popper does attach once it’s stopped playing. I still can’t decide if the Equals cover is genius or pure cheese, but I’m willing to keep it on and the verdict out.

3. Dan Melchior und das Menace- Christmas for the Crows- the most consistently prolific, prolifically consistent, artist out there? I use the term intentionally, because the man is beyond categories. He writes songs, not genre exercises. “Swamp” is the eeriest riff of the year, the soundtrack to a nightmare you’d actually tap your toe to while being devoured. Buy anything with this man’s name on it.

2. Apache- Boomtown Gems- the “Boyz Life” single was the best I’d heard in years, and while only a few songs here live up to that standard, this is still a good time glam fest for your Saturday night. It’s well-written, sing along anthems from the fun school. That is not a bad thing.

1. Nobunny- Love Visions- but the clear winner, and even my daughter’s big fave, has to be this collection of kooky pop genius. How many big hooks can you count? How many stupid smiles? What kind of ridiculous harmony drugs are they smoking down in the Temescal? Is Lanesplitter spiking the Canadian Bacon with love? This just got reissued so get on down to 1234 Go and buy a second copy. Tell ‘em Amy sent ya.

Balls

A Burning, Bitter Bastard

Another night, another brew. This is a deeply hoppy beer with a lot of personality. A mouthful really with a bitter almost burning aftertaste which remains in your mouth long after you take a sip. I can almost imagine the horrendous hangover several of these produce the next day. And God help you if you were smoking. Actually, Arrogant Bastard is a damn fine brew. Its just that I'm not a disciplined enough drinker to have just one and avoid the next morning's pain which would come from 8 of these....And that's why I also bought a sixer of Inbev (formerly Bud) Light. See you on the other side.

Guns are cool!

The year that was rock n roll: 2008

1. The Feeling of Love-Petite tu es Hit. What the John Spencer Blues Explosion sorta sounded like before they got into dance-y type stuff. Only bluesier. God, what sort of screwed up year is it when my fave band was French?

2. The Black Keys-Attack and Release. Yeah I know the rest of you don't like them. Still, I think this is a solid 2 piece middle of America blues group without the schtick of the White Stripes. They ran into a dead end on their last 2 lps, but this one is a rebirth of sorts. Interesting arrangements and weird effects. Major label music which doesn't suck.

3. Eddy Current Suppression Ring- Primary Colors. Not nearly as good as their first lp, but its still better than 98% of what I heard this year. If Wire was still a punker band this is what they might sound like.

4. Forbidden Tigers- Its only been 3 days since I lived with this lp, but I really dig it. These guys rawer sound resulted in them beating out their brother band Brimstone Howl for honors.

5. Jay Reatard- Matador Singles 08. The Superman of underground rock. More new wavy guitar driven stuff. I would have given him a higher ranking if I thought the music was more of a leap forward from his 06-07 singles release.

Honorable mentions: The Pets, The Pink Fits and The Magnetix.

Old stuff discovered: Hound Dog Taylor and RL Burnside. Raw electric blues is eternal. Also black 70s soul divas like Betty Wright, Candi Stanton, and Ann Peebles.

Six string brutality.

The full length of Nebraska's Forbidden Tigers is raw as hell garage rock. Nothing that is going to reinvent the wheel, but after a few spins I must say its connecting. Just a very solid collection of primitive guitar wreckage.

When are we going to have our year end fave records? I'm ready if you are.

The Bitch is BACK!

Like a bad penny, the Clintons just keep coming back to us. Her nomination is a mistake. Mark my words!