What Are You Listening To Besides Your Wife
Jay Reatard- Blood Visions- dude goes new wave without the goth and delivers some ganglia-grabbers, even if it's not the greatest catcher since Berlin's "Masquerade"

Hank IV- Third Person Shooter- can't quite fathom how this is the same band that nearly ruined my return to the Chameleon way back when, cuz this record is a monster. An amalgamation of influences like The Fall and The Electric Eels and Cleveland Browns parking lot three hours before gametime but delivering something all their very middle-aged and distinctive own.

King Khan and BBQ Show- What's For Dinner- of course it's not as good as the first one- how could it be? Only a tone deaf jackass like the Tuna could miss the genius.

Pissed Jeans- Swallow- smarter and angrier and weirder than even I first gave them credit for- jazz freakouts for the hardcore lover who hates hardcore.

Fe Fi Fo Fums- uh, in keeping with their idiocy theme, I don't know the record title, but this is the record of the year even if you're too drunk to remember you heard it.

Scientists-all- still godhead after all that ocean and all these years. Kim Salmon is your master, swamp bitch.

Original Sins- all- eat my Oakland taint, Ms. BYATCH!

Charlie Rich- bought five more records bringing my collection to 18, roughly, and perhaps slipping by Bowie for number uno in the Derr collection of emotionally damaged artistes creating to make me feel better about myself. Take a posthumous bow, dead man.

Lee Hazlewood- the fantods been rearing their blueheads and when I feel the urge to bury 'em in darkness I reach for the Sandman instead who brings the sound of the sea and the mist the southern comfort glow and the dark clouds retreat behind just that smidgen of light that commands that sliver of hope.

Easy Action- The Friends of Rock n Roll- John "Negative Approach and Laughing Hyenas" Brannon falls just below Dexter and Brother JT in my pantheon of personal musical heroes, and while this is essentially bar hard rock raised by the glory of JB's shredding shriek, it's still worth it if only for their contender of HATE ROCK song #2, "I HOpe it gets Worse For You," which may beat 'Hard For You" in the all-time break-up fuck-off roller rink of justify myself, my lonely self, anthems.

The Monkees- so fucking singalongable- give in, elitist

About 20 more records, but it's time for bed. This public service effort has been brought to you by the referees of tonight's Sharks' debacle, who handed the game to the Predators in what can only be deemed a country music grammy theft. Lucas has officially lost his innocence. Thanks a lot you hungover zebras- selling Santa will be a bitch this year.