Everything I Want

I've been listening to a lot of 90's indie rock lately, and it's always interesting to hear what holds up and what doesn't. I'm still shaking my head at how good I thought the Didjits' Hornet Pinata was in my memory but repeated plays say no. Pavement littered its records with melodies, but that lethargy in the vocals and playing drips of a slacker who-cares era I'd rather forget. The biggest winner, by far, in this purely anecdoctal sampling of the old days, is The Laughing Hyenas. I drove over Fish Ranch this afternoon with the top down, and while decorum suggested something light and frothy, John Brannon nearly drove me down the canyon. That voice. That fucking scream. The man gets too little credit. Have you heard anything quite like that sound in the last ten years? The second record wasn't quite what I hoped it still was, but the first one blew my fucking head off. "Love's My Only Crime" defeats all comers in the musical catharsis sweepstakes, especially if you're middle-aged with embarrassingly unresolved issues. Pull it out tonight to dredge up the sludge from the bowels of the repressed.