… with wealthy, musical, regional roots from an F+ Psychologically, Depressed, City in an F- Corrupt & Bankrupt State.  Hell yeah, Northern Illinois’s finest;  get some of this, America.

{Excellent 2010 regional releases by Joie de Vivre, Lizard Skynard, Staasuhnator Rex, Crankupmadonna, Cameron McGill & What Army}

{NOTE: Review Excerpts included from Sock Monkey Sounds 2010 Halfway Reviews}
By Andrew Whorehall & Dave DeCastris

There’s been a string of (in)credible releases by Rockford, IL, area artists (with ties to Chicago/Austin/Vancouver) in 2010 that are on par with some of the best records being released by independent artists anywhere you may call home. We already covered The Pimps extensively here at SMS earlier this year, celebrating their  record release & career.  Many more have been released,  the great Rockford rash, 2010.  Something is in the air around the Rock River- whatever the musicians are drinking, don’t share, the rest of the state doesn’t deserve the formula.  These records deserve an individual shout out before the Federal Government changes the name of my hometown to, “Cheap Trick, IL” to help repair the local psychology and economy.  The irony is in the name change but in this state, it could happen;  you know it’s still legal to adopt monkeys in Illinois too?

Despite demographic despair and obvious economic-cum-mental depression, the music coming out of this tiny little area near the Wisconsin border is as vital and positive as I can remember in my lifetime.  There’s that general thought that with any kind of depression comes a possibility of great art;  I argue you won’t find five better independent releases like this from one little tiny area of the world that’s been ignored & choked of many federal opportunities to prevail as much as Rockford, IL.

Shall we?

Joie De Vivre "The North End"

Joie De Vivre
“The North End”
Young, intelligent, college kids playing off of punk emotion, setting the pace slow, early and exploding;  midwestern mood rock a decade later.  Spring love, Summer arguments, Fall heartbreak, Winter recovery,  The midwest for many of our youth growing up here.  That is “The North End.”  Joie is completely out of step with today’s youth rock, they’re too smart for any scene anywhere– and all for the better.  Sit through one listen and you’ll know right away that seeing them live will be no different than putting on their record.  No pretending.  “The North End” secretly implies they have no aspirations to entertain you with a light show or fancy new outfits from Hot Topic–  just empty cans of beer.   Honest brooding, rock n’ roll high on emotion and slow, steady delivery.  “The North End” owes as much respect to other regional indie acts that inspired their teen listening years, The Braves, as it does to other regional & national acts that has defined the midwest underground, Mike Kinsella projects (Joan of Arc/American Football/Owen).   ‘North End’ serves as a soundtrack for trying to live through your early 20s in the midwest with limited opportunities and personal heartbreak.  It’s a solid declaration from a young band that is only going to get louder, funnier, darker, softer and wiser with each new letdown & recording to follow.  Here’s hoping they keep it together long enough before becoming sick of each other.

Lizard Skynard - Self titled

Lizard Skynard
Self-Titled
Lizard Skynard, despite having a perfect frontman (Lizardman) for the kids are a monstrous rock band.  Imagine part Rollins/ part Deftones / meets Kevin Shields with the boys from Kyuss in a train station to make space metal.  The Skynard boys (Chicago/Austin/Vancouver) feed off of lead guitarist, Jason “Mossy” Vaughn’s wall of guitar nob turning and pedal shifting theatrics.  Vaughn’s playing is mesmerizing, turning speed metal riffs into reverb, delays, morphing into small, well-intended melodies– no different than a Shostakovich film production gone wild, chaos amidst the darkness and then drifting into melody.  With or without Lizardman reciting monologues on top of the band, this is the sound of life on earth coming to a loud, water-washed, horrific & beautiful end.

Produced by Greg Norman @ Electrical Audio in Chicago over the course of 1 week this past winter, this self-titled debut by a band that started as a ‘what-if’ idea in the back of a Jägermeister bus between Mossy & Lizardman is anything but a ‘what-if’ idea.  Every member plays as if their lives, and that of  Planet Earth’s, depends on these 30 minutes put to record for a listener’s lifetime.

Staasuhnator Rex "62" {V.1: Tracks 1-8 / E.P.}

Staasuhnator Rex
62 (V1: Tracks 1-8 E.P.)
Staasuhnator Rex “62″ is the brilliant, brainchild debut E.P. / song project by Zach Staas (Joie De Vivre, Donkey Boy (USA)); a young songwriter, multi-instrumentalist, engineer. 62 songs are planned for release non-ironically;  8 at a time (yes, he knows there’s a math problem, it’s been discussed and nothing is changing the count from 62 to 64).  All songs are planned to be recorded under a minute and a half if possible. Each song featured here is an appetizer for bizarro pop perfection- genius.

Staas manages most of the instruments himself mixing in domestic observations that are beautifully sung, tongue in cheek and still managing to be awfully heartbreaking & brilliant– in a span of seconds.  “Pound that pussy good, just like you should,” sticks out as a key line on the 56 second long song, “Meownepaws.”  When lines just appear to be lewd, Staas’s delivery reminds you they’re anything but.  The cats in the alley are keeping him awake as he imagines what he wishes he could do to end their midnight whining.  It’s the way the line is sung at the :31 to :36 mark that seals the deal on short moments will make you laugh and cry.

Staas’s vocal inflections rise when they need to perfectly to remind you he is dead serious.  Songs end when you think there’s going to be more.  Nope;  just a few seconds of what could be, cut, next.  ”Please Pay By”  is the peak of this, the first 8 songs of an amazing song project he’s started.  Starting with electric guitar and slowly introducing various keys on top of a subtle amp buzzing while singing about his bills to pay.  The most complete song of the 8 hints slightly at what Rex could be live.  Imagine Jason Lytle or Neil Young jumping off the cliff of creativity looking for something else, John Cale leading the way- and you got Staasuhnator Rex.  A monster of a miniature 1st e.p. from one of Rockford, IL’s most promising young songwriter / multi-instrumentalist & composer.  I await the next 54 songs with excitement.  Download the 1st E.P. of “62″ containing tracks 1-8 for FREE, here, limited time only.
aW

Crankupmadonna "Hit The Sound"

Crankupmadonna
“Hit The Sound”
Shawn Ross, singer-songwriter/guitarist, has spent most of his life playing bass for local area band, The Braves- a very respected, midwestern, indie 4-piece.  After years of supporting Joe Reina & Kevin Schwitter’s songs, Ross takes the helm on his own project bringing along with him 2 former Braves (Jesse Carmona & Phil Goudreau) plus newbie, Christoper Johnson, to take over on bass duties for him.  “Hit the Sound” was recorded by veteran Chicago engineer, Mike Hagler (Wilco, Neko Case, The Redwalls, Mekons, Jon Langford) who helped tap Ross’s manic pop-punk song style into a personal sound oweing tribute to the likes of great 90s bands like Dinosaur Jr., Tommy Stinson’s ‘Perfect’ phase and the Foo Fighter’s first 2 records.  Every song is perfectly crafted and performed by the band, owing as much respect to Ross’s musical roots but also to the road traveled to get to this point, running his own ship.  “Not This Town” wails and splashes between vocals, drums and guitar feedback. “Anyone Can Die” and “Burn this Scene” fist the air for attention;  awesome pop-punk meets classic rock choruses are scattered throughout the record.  Key track defining Ross’s new direction with this band in tow happens on “Golden Hands;”  the guitar build outro, bass, drums, all kick in for a band in the studio moment that pays dues to everything that has made 90s American indie rock so influential.  It also defines Ross as a writer now, guitarist and band leader.   A defining midwestern debut record by 4 guys from Rockford who sound like they’re from anywhere else but here;  full of life and miles to burn.
dD  |  aW

Cameron McGill & What-Army "Deserters." EP

Cameron McGill & What Army
“Derserters.” EP
Let’s keep this one short:  Billy Ocean wrote a tune and in that tune he said, “Simply awesome.”  He was talking about McGill’s Army preview for 2011′s “Is A Beast” which is a 5-song teaser properly titled, “Deserters.”  Two new songs from ‘Beast’ start off “Deserters,” giving ya that awful feeling you gotta hear more and you can’t wait.  “Dead Rose” is nasty;  bassline so nasty, guitar tones so nasty, McGill’s voice unlike previous recorded outputs, nasty awesome not simply awesome.  “I Don’t Believe in Magic (But All My Friends Just Disappeared” is as simply awesome as the title implies.  Billy Ocean would be proud too.  Pop perfection, Chicago intuitions, guests and all Army.  Standout performances by Rockford, IL’s own, Daniel J. McMahon, all over the E.P.  Garvey & Palma (Drums/Bass) form one nasty backbone on record and Justin Perkins’ production hints greatly at what’s to come.  The last 3 tracks are b-sides but should not be ignored- especially “Loose Tooth.  “Deserters” E.P. is a nasty, awesome, 5-song teaser hinting at what may become 2011′s finest midwestern offering to a majority of undeserving & misunderstanding humans who tend to crave crap in this day and age.  Here’s hoping otherwise.

dD  | aW

by Alex Danger Stewart

Joey De Verve

Joie De Vivre-You Ruined Everything that was Ever Good

With You Ruined Everything that was Ever Good, the titular track of their 2010 tour EP, Joie De Vivre brought something so far unseen to the table: Swagger.

Prior to this song, the band’s lyrical aesthetic could best be described as, “Earnest Apathy“.  That is to say any number of songs in their catalog can be summed up by a scruffy young man yelping, “I feel bad about these things, but I don’t know how to change them.”  One could easily imagine a girl breaking up with JDV’s lyrical persona.  Upon hearing the news, the persona slumps down in his chair and says, “Oh ok.” Then the persona drives home and feels bad about himself until his friends come over with a 24 pack of beer and some old Alkaline Trio albums (incidentally it would look like this).

That’s what makes this song so different.  Maybe it’s because of the hilarious origins (see their recent appearance on our podcast), but You Ruined Everything that was Ever Good has none of that reluctance or longing usually present in a Joie De Vivre track.  Lunging forward at a pace that veers shockingly close to up tempo, the guitars bite instead of chime.  One can actually move their hips to this thing.  Singer  Brandon Lutmer’s usually propensity for stretching words out to bar length is replaced by what amounts to urgency; gnawing at the bit to get all of his words out (relatively speaking).

“Staying out all night/ to follow you home convinced me that I was right/ in letting you go.  I couldn’t wait to tell you/that things are fine,” he sings to an unnamed party.  Basically telling her, “It’s cool. I’m better now anyway.”  Then the barbs get more venomous, plainly stating, “You weren’t missed by anyone,” repeating it before ending the song with the chanted, “You ruined/everything that was ever good.  You ruined/everything that was ever good.”  Ouch.  As far as emo bands go, it’s basically a Ludacris song.  Everything is delivered with confidence and a smirk.  It almost makes you want to strut.

I’m sure that we’ll all go back to Charlie Brown moments soon enough, but it’s nice to have a rallying cry for moving on.  Give it six months. This song will be a sing along song.

Visit Joie De Vivre’s myspace page to hear the song: http://www.myspace.com/joiedevivreband

The Halfway Point: A 2010 Music Review
Songs, records, cds, downloads, whatever.
National, International, Regional, Rewinds & Letdowns

By SMS Editorial & Contributing Writers:
Chip Copeland (cC)  |  Alex Danger Stewart (aDs)   |  Dave DeCastris (dD)  |  Andrew Whorehall (aW)

We apologize for being a bit late with this, it’s been in the works for 2 months. It’s our rookie attempt to cover the first half of 2010. Below is a brief list of what Sock Monkey Sound has been listening to and recommends at the 2010 halfway point. With so little time and money, we’re sure we’ve missed a bunch so leave your comments at the bottom of this very long, hopefully informative, blog post.

Cheers.
SMS > cC  |  aDs  |  dD  |  aW
08.07.2010

_______________________________________________

cC suggests:

NATIONAL RELEASES

Admiral Radley "I Heart California"

Admiral Radley - I Heart California 1/2 Grandaddy + 1/2 Earlimart = Pure Awesomeness!

Broken Social Scene – Forgiveness Rock Record Always liked Broken Social scene in the past but this record is tighter and more efficient in delivering the goods and the promise of this band. This is the kind of cohesiveness I wish Sonic Youth was still able to muster these days.

Stars – The Five Ghosts: Waaaayyy better than their last record, In Our Bedroom After the War, almost hitting the same knd of highs that were evident on Set Yourself on Fire.

Family Band – Miller Path I’ve really been wrapping myself up in this moody and exquisite album that is spooky and drenched in atmosphere in much the same way as The Nationals latest. Imagine a darker and more haunting version of Mazzy Star and you’re on the right track.

Field Music – Measure Proggy and yet still remaining very song oriented. Reminiscent at times of The Sea and Cake, an evenly enjoyable listen.

Honorable mentions:
Teenage Fanclub - Shadows

REGIONAL / INDIE / LOCAL RELEASES
Because of Sock Monkey Sound I’ve discovered more local indie artists than ever before. So most of what I’ve been listening to is lesser known bands from around here or elsewhere.

The Braves – The Leaves are Black / Quiet Hushed Animals: I make no apologies that I love this band, I know these guys and have been equally amazed at how good they all are at their craft as evidenced by their solo projects and new bands that they have gone onto form. The fucking shame about this record is that unless you know someone in Rockford, IL that knows one of the guys in the band YOU”LL NEVER HEAR THIS RECORD.

I fault the band for not being more proactive in making these songs available via Bandcamp.com or on a website. They don’t have to charge anything if they don’t want to but I think there is an audience that is willing to fork over $5-$8 bucks for an 18 song download.

Until then, folks can buy their last official release Love and Mercy on iTunes for $8.91 or Emusic and after you listen to that email thebravestheband@hotmail.com and demand that they make ALL OF their music available for download online. 30 years from now The Braves will be remembered as one of those great unsung regional acts that never found an audience in their day but influenced a slew of younger acts from Rockford.

Ex Norwegian – Sketch This Florida based band continues to craft tight yet creative power pop that reminds me of Badfinger, Big Star, and that other power pop band from Rockford that everybody talks about excessively. Can’t wait to see them at the first Sock Monkey Sound showcase show September 1st at Kryptonite Bar.

Geronimo! – Fuzzy Dreams Man, is it still 1993 or what. I wish I still owned flannel so I could sport it at the next Geronimo! show. These guys are tight but the intros at the beginning of these songs work better in a live setting than on record. A solid effort by some nice dudes.

The Felix Culpa – Sever Your Roots It’s not often that a band with no money, no label, and a 3 year gap in between albums is able to record a record as intricate as Sever Your Roots. While not a perfect record it is certainly impressive that a regional at is able reach a level of this quality, much like The Braves did on Quiet Hushed Animals. I’m interested in seeing them release something again- hopefully in a timelier manner.

The Projection People – Self Titled Once again here’s another band from the region, Madison , Wisconsin to be precise, that is making very precise and expressive music without major label support. Great arrangements and musicianship abounds on this record and if you get a chance be sure to see them live. Fans of Minus the Bear are sure to enjoy this group. See also: Jane by The Cemetery Improvement Society which features some of the members of TPP.

REWIND
Sun Kil Moon – Ghosts of the Great Highway The first line of Carry Me Ohio says it all:
sorry that
i could never love you back
i could never care enough
in these last days

LETDOWN LISTEN
Prince – 20Ten Once a great artist that has fallen prey to the trap that comes with the seclusion of being a massive star: losing touch with what’s out in the real world. The internet”s dead? F*ck you Prince. F*ck you in your stupid little ass-less pants you short little prima-donna. After you complain about not getting paid and advance for putting your stuff on iTunes how about you consider all the artists that are really struggling to make a name for themselves while making music that still matters. At least you get royalties off all the songs that continue to get played on the radio. Which won’t happen for most other musicians because major corporations like Clear Channel have a monopoly over terrestrial radio; a system that you strive so hard to fight against yet you try to perpetuate the old system of dying record labels. No amount of “genius” or “talent” can change the fact that you’re probably just an A$$hole.

_______________________________________________

aDs suggests:

The National "High Violet"

NATIONAL RELEASES
The National-High Violet:  I’ve said it a couple of times but I’ll justifiably say it again.  This album is tearing me apart.  It’s like a soundtrack to social anxiety.  Over thrumming guitars Matt Berninger sings, “Venom radio and venom television.  I’m afraid of everyone, I’m afraid of everyone. They’re the young blue bodies/with the old red bodies.”  Walking through the city on my way to class, I nod along as the whole world collapses around my headphones.  “I’m afraid of everyone,” he continues, “I’m afraid of everyone.  I don’t have the drugs to sort it out.  Sort it out.”  You and I both, dude.  You and I both.  This isn’t an album for feeling alone in a crowded room.  This is an album for feeling alone on a jam packed sidewalk, keeping an eye on the sky; waiting for a hunk of building to crumble off and come crashing down on your skull. It’s sonic self medication.  It rips open old scars and sticks a finger in the wound, just to see you squirm a bit before stitching it back up again.  Yeah, this album sticks with you.

INTERNATIONAL RELEASES
Male Bonding-Nothing Hurts Male Bonding is a band from Bristol. That’s in England, innit? I’m not quite sure what exactly this band promises but it delivers on that promise.  Simply put, this band is loud, fast, and dirty.  The tones are skuzzy and the songs are short.  This band and I share a clear love of 1990 Sub Pop.  I sing along, when I can, and shake my hair when I can’t.

REGIONAL
Geronimo-Fuzzy Dreams: There’s no two ways about it.  Geronimo will make you hurt.  They will squish your brain and punch you in the diaphragm.  Halfway through the opening song, “Thunderbattles,” one thing becomes clear: this is a band that is not afraid to write songs with riffs.  Sometimes this band likes to play fast, and sometimes they like to be atmospheric.  Though they are not always entirely sure footed, they constantly move forward with a jittery energy and another pounding of the snare.  The songs on this album make shit move.  That is, until the last song.  “Judgment Day” comes as a kiss-off disguised as a hug.  It acts as a campfire sing-along and a palette cleanser.  To say it sounds like Dust era Screaming Trees is the greatest praise I can give.

REWIND
Jim O’Rourke- Eureka I’ve always been somewhat of a fan of Mr. O’Rourke.  The albums that he worked on with Wilco and Sonic Youth number among my favorite for each band and his reputation as a Chicago composer and experimental musician is most stellar.  I spun the hell out of his 1997 album “Bad Timing,” last year.  Why then, did it take me so long to pick up more of his albums?  I don’t rightly know but 1999’s “Eureka,” has been pulling me back again and again.   As a work, it stands apart from many of O’Rourke’s albums in that it finds him molding his usual compositional elements into the form of Bacharach-esque pop songs (including covers of songs by Bacharach and Ivor Cutler).  Even within such forms, O’Rourke’s signature style shines through.  Each song beginning with an intricate finger style guitar passage, a minimal percussive rattle, or a slight buzz of synthesizer, and building from there.  There are never random moves.  Each is deliberate and gradual.  Like the cinematography in a Rossellini film, you find yourself so focused on the current image that you barely notice the change until two minutes later when it has molded itself into an entirely different song.  Then you smile.

LETDOWN LISTEN
Sleigh Bells-Treats Everything I read in the ramp up for this album described it as noise pop.  “Perfect,” I thought, imagining way too fuzzy guitars and fun, crooked harmonies to match, “I love noise and pop.”   Pitchfork said it, “…felt like rides at an amusement park, and I’d get a feeling in my stomach when the first notes kicked in: Here we go.” They used words like, “jackhammer riffs,” “beats from hip-hop and electro,” and, “supremely catchy sing-song melodies.”  Yes!  I thought I had found my summer party album.   No.  This duo sounds like all of the things that are wrong with M.I.A.’s new album (which is to say most of it).  When Indie groups use the word pop it’s supposed to mean old pop.  Not that Lil Wayne guitar album that everyone has agreed to forget.  The aesthetic of simulated stereo destruction works sometimes.  Sometimes Not when it’s used for the entirety of every song!  Clearly there is some disconnect between what was described and what exists.  One can hardly blame the band for that.  What I can blame them for is making an album that fails the only requirement of party jams.  It’s not danceable (unless the only dance move in your arsenal is the stutter step).  It doesn’t make me want to get down, or fuck, or chill, or drink.  It makes me want to hide.  This album isn’t fun.  That’s unforgivable.

______________________

dD suggests:

Spoon "Transference"

NATIONAL RELEASES
Spoon-Transference: Minimal, dark, droning, mechanically rhythmic,pop songs that build on each other, exploding into little moments. Perfect imperfections.  A fully realized production that honors their lo-fi past & recent ventures with equal amounts of focus and abandonment.  This record stands at an artistic cross roads for them. On first listen, as the cover photo suggests, “I’m bored, what are we gonna do next?”  A brilliant orange lamp siting next to the bored individual on the cover serves as a metaphor for focus and inspiration, just look at what’s around you in a different light.  “Transference” pushes their artistic ceiling slightly higher.  Their artistic foundation, Daniel & Eno, sound stronger than ever while digging deeper, continuing to search for new sounds, patterns and rhythms together unlike most veteran indie bands and musical partnerships.

ALSO:
The National – High Violet
The Mynabirds –  What We Lose in the Fire We Gain in the Flood

INTERNATIONAL
The Radio Dept.- Clinging to a Scheme Sweet, sweet, sweet sugary pop songs from Sweden that recall the finer moments of the Pet Shop Boys with a darker edge.

REGIONAL RELEASES
Joie De Vivre – The North End Young, intelligent, college kids playing off of punk emotion, setting the pace and exploding;  midwestern mood rock a decade later.  Spring love, Summer arguments, Fall heartbreak, Winter recovery,  The midwest for many of our youth growing up here. That is “The North End.”  Joie is completely out of step with today’s youth rock, they’re too smart for any scene anywhere in America right now– and all for the better.  Sit through one listen and you’ll know right away that seeing them live will be no different than putting on their record.  Like Neil and Crazy Horse, this is what ya get live too- no pretending.  “The North End” secretly implies they have no aspirations to entertain you with a light show or fancy new outfits from Hot Topic,  just empty cans of beer.   Honest brooding, rock n’ roll high on emotion and slow, steady delivery.  “The North End” owes as much respect to other regional indie acts that inspired them in their teens, The Braves, as it does to other regional & national acts that has defined the midwest underground, Mike Kinsella inspired projects (Joan of Arc/American Football/Owen).   ‘North End’ serves as a soundtrack for trying to live through your early 20s in Northern Illinois through a recession, limited opportunities, and heartbreak.  It’s a solid declaration from a young band that is only going to get louder, funnier, darker, softer and wiser with each new letdown & recording to follow.  Here’s hoping they keep it together long enough before becoming sick of each other.

Lizard Skynard – Self-Titled Lizard Skynard, despite having a perfect frontman (Lizardman) for the kids are a monstrous rock band.  Imagine Henry Rollins/ Part Deftones meets Kevin Shields and the boys from Kyuss in a train station to make space metal.  The Skynard boys (Chicago/Austin/Vancouver) feed off of lead guitarist, Jason “Mossy” Vaughn’s (Machesney Park/Rockford), wall of guitar nob turning and pedal shifting theatrics.  Vaughn’s playing is mesmerizing, turning speed metal riffs into reverb, delays, morphing into small, well-intended melodies– no different than a classical Dmitri Shostakovich film production, chaos amidst the darkness drifting into melody.  With or without Lizardman reciting monologues on top of the band, it’s a complete sound of life on earth coming to a loud, water washed horrific & beautiful end.  Produced by Greg Norman @ Electrical Audio in Chicago over the course of 1 week this past winter, this self-titled debut by a band that started as a ‘what-if’ idea in the back of a Jägermeister bus (driven around the country for 4 years to festivals and arenas by Mossy & his wife, Dana) is anything but a ‘what-if’ idea.  Every member plays as if their lives, and that of  Planet Earth’s, depends on these 30 minutes put to record for a listener’s lifetime.

REWIND LISTENS
Neil Young – American Stars N’ Bars Released in 1978, it’s often discarded as a hodge podge collection of Uncle Neil’s throwaway gems that bounce between his country rock/folk stylings and manic garage rock epic.  Often cited for featuring the magnificent, “Like a Hurricane,” a song probably more responsible for Wilco’s post Jay Bennet guitar freakouts.  Especially on their Neil inspired, “Spiders (Kidsmoke).”  Before you even get to  ‘Hurricane’ there’s country flavored ear candy in “This Old Country Waltz,” “Hey Babe,” “Hold Back The Tears,” and “Star of Bethlehem.”  After spending most of my life living in “Zuma,”  my personal Uncle Neil desert island pick, “American Stars N’ Bars” has consumed my car CD player with a few more mentioned above for the early half of 2010.

Big Star- Keep Your Eye on The Sky (Box Set) There’s a line from a famous Replacements song on “Pleased to Meet Me” named in honor for the late “Alex Chilton” (who passed away earlier this year) that goes;  “I never travel far without a little Big Star.”  I don’t think I’ve gone one year in existence since my first exposure in college to Big Star’s 1974 classic song, “September Gurls,” by a fellow classmate.  It changed the way I spell and now type, ‘gurls.’ IT inspired many songs in shoeboxes stored away trying to write any song worth having a “Gurl” in it.  It has appeared on every other cassette, cd mix I’ve made for so many people over the years.  The tragedy in sharing that one song to anyone unaware of Big Star’s brief recorded 1970s magic is that every Big Star song is worth sharing.  Every single f*cking song.  This box set, like their 3 formal studio recordings is always within an arms length for playing.

LETDOWN LISTENS
Teenage Fanclub – Shadows I expect too much out of my favorite artists I’ve grown up with.  The Fanclub’s latest is just….  a complacent listen.  They sound older, beaten… maybe that’s natural.  I’m not ready to accept this record yet.  I will return to it one day.

Broken Bells- Self-Titled I love Brian Burton’s production, his playing, everything he does as ‘Danger Mouse.’  I’ve become fond of James Mercer’s writing over the years for The Shins but not always his choice in song production or arrangements after the home made debut.  The best song he’s written is “Good For Good” on “Chutes Too Narrow.”  He’s never come close to that song’s simplicity since, lyrically or musically.   It’s a shame to these ears to want more out of the guy.  The template is there, obviously, for something more within himself.  Hearing about this project in advance had me excited thinking, “Mercer, you’ve befriended Brian Burton, you sneaky bastard.”  This is just a boring sit-through listen by 2 respectable young artists seeking mutual ground and settling for safe, electro-pop.  I can’t help but think ‘Danger Mouse’ had to take a step down to Mercer’s musical shortcomings to make this work.  Which, again, another reason I think Brian Burton is an amazing artist.  I look forward to another release by this combo but this one is the sound of 2 great talents trying to figure each other out still.  Yawn.

____________________________________

aW suggests:

LCD Soundsystem "This is Happening"

NATIONAL RELEASES
LCD Soundsystem – This is Happening If I were a woman and I had to give birth to a child because someone planted an evil, gifted seed inside me, I’d want James Murphy to provide the juice.  What a brilliant artist, performer, engineer, producer.  This record tops off a 10-year run of 3 very important modern day recordings that focus on punk, disco, classic rock, pop, glam, indie, folk, funk and electronic arrangements set to Murphy’s urban, personal, lyrical observations.  Not a great vocalist at all, but this is a great artist at his peak.  His playful instincts and ability to take his own influences to meld into wonderful, weird American records that calm and explode with ideas is never short of amazing.  See the synth freak out on the Bowie-Heroes inspired “All I Want” for an example that makes every musician, or anyone that can feel, think with goosebumps, ‘sweet Lord, punch me in the face, that’s awesome.”

ALSO:
Peter Wolf-  Midnight Souvenirs
Damien Jurado- Saint Bartlett

INTERNATIONAL RELEASES

Gorillaz - Plastic Beach Blur frontman, Damon Albarn can do no wrong.  Who else could put out a fake cartoon band doing a political record about our planet’s future demise featuring Lou Reed and Snoop D-O-Double G?  Brilliant record, brilliant pop, brilliant social commentary.  If a record could ever win a Pulitzer based on intelligence, craft, spiritual and political messages- this has the best chance.  One of those rare records you can dance to, f*ck to, eat to, work to– plus sit and think about it after it’s ended.  Repeat.

REGIONAL RELEASES
The Pimps - Fuck this shit, we’re outta here Veteran local punks, a joyous love letter of sorts to our despicable city, country, music industry and capitalism.  The Pimps tap into the same great punk, rock n’ roll, hillbilly glam spirit other legendary bands from the Midwest tapped into for shorter amounts of time.  Difference is, The Pimps haven’t changed for anyone 9 records in.  Indifference, contemplation, F words and aging rarely sounds this joyous.  Read More about the record here.

Judah The Lyrical Rev- “Rockford Files” Midwestern hip hop artist I want to here more from based on just one little song passed to me on the internets that I can’t stop listening to this year.  I believe it was written awhile ago but it should be a city anthem, a national cry for federal help.  The power in the song’s lyrics, Judah’s smooth delivery is equal parts proud, educative, angry, sad and desperate.  Like many people, like me, living in Rockford, IL

REWIND LISTENS

The Flaming Groovies- Shake Some Action One of the 70s great critically respected, but commercially unsuccessful, American rock bands.  After spending years emulating a hybrid of The Stones and Velvet Underground on great releases like “Teenage Head” and “Flamingo,”  the Groovies signed with major label, Sire, to release a late 70s power pop rock canon of songs tight on harmonies and classic pop arrangements.  Think Buddy Holly fronting the 1963 Beatles and converging in the late 70s for a record together.

Sparklehorse- Vivadixiesubmarinetransmissionplot I remember the day I bought this at Val Halla’s in Oak Park, IL.  The kid, who shall remain nameless for now, running the counter suggested it.  He also passed me tapes of Golden Smog and Wilco practice sessions in Chicago that previous summer.  He advised me to buy this record based on a secret love for Cracker / David Lowery at that time.  Lowery produced this Sparkle thing I hadn’t heard of and I Wasn’t too happy with major label releases around this time, dipping deeper into the Chicago releases.  However, the kid with strange music connections always passing me tapes and DAT sessions I, nor anyone should have had, sold me.  Those first few Mark Linkous (who is Sparklehorse) compositions destroyed me driving in my green buick, playing it from a portable cd player rigged to a tape deck adapter driving to an awful job in Oak Brook from Oak Park the next morning.  Brittle, angry garage/glam rock balanced out by some of the most fragile cosmic folk songs I’d ever heard at that time.  What would be Side B on any vinyl copy, the amazing run of songs 7-12 plow my soul.  Hammering the Cramps/ The Most Beautiful Widow in Town / Heart of Darkness into Someday I Will Treat You Good ending with Sad & Beautiful World into Gasoline Horseys… Jesus Christ, cmon.  I get goosebumps just thinking about these songs.  Mark Linkous, I doubt you knew you’d be missed by so many strangers sharing the same feelings as you.

LETDOWN LISTENS

WZOK / 97.5 Rockford About 90% of what they play offends my ears and then my brain freaks out and quivers, I get dizzy.

WXRX/ 104.9 Rockford About 91% of what they play causes diarrea at home or epileptic reactions while driving.

Could local radio get any worse than those 2 pay to play garbage dumps?  Yes.  They’re everywhere and they are a sickness.  An awful aural disease infecting millions of Americans with poor music tastes.  It’d be one thing if the music played were just bad, but the commercials and the DJS are as horrendous to listen bable on about pop culture nothings.  Rockford radio is so bad they make the kids from MTV’s Jersey Shore sound brilliant.

A little taste of Pre-Yankee Chicago.

August 28th marks the 10 year anniversary of one of Drag City Record’s most peculiar and beautiful E.P.’s. Featuring 4 original songs by label owner, Rian Murphy, and mastermind songwriter, Will Oldham, along with many prominent Chicago musicians. {Archer Prewitt, Bill Callahan, Kelly Hogan, Edith Frost, Fred Lonberg-Holm, Jim O’ Rourke, even Albini assists– and many more.}

by Dave DeCastris |  August 2010

Happy Anniversary to Rian Murphy & Will Oldham's, "All Most Heaven" E.P.

With regards to the E.P. format and artists who still release them, they tend to come and go, a transistion piece for many bands and artists.  Rarely do they leave a listener in awe as “All Most Heaven” did 10 years ago and now.  Produced by Drag City label owner, Rian Murphy, with many from the Chicago indie underground helping out, this e.p, turns 10 years old this month. Aging, memories and survival has become marked by my favorite recordings;  this being one.

Four classically arranged pop songs, burst with color and group sing alongs to bizarro childish lyrics.  Some of the words being sung aren’t even words.  ”I am the bmal bahl” and “da da d hail the ga” make random appearances in the opening sing-along song, “Fall Again.”  Bill Callahan or Jim O’Rourke’s identifiable vocals (or are they Rian’s?) opens the record to be met by Will’s, who carries the rest of the E.P.  I’ve never figured this out about the E.P., who really is doing what? I don’t want to.  The joy in listening to this E.P. repeatedly is trying to identify the Chicago area musicians on it.   The joy is felt in every one of their performances.  Rarely does an E.P. with many collaborators sound so joyful and well-rehearsed. By the end of “Fall Again,” you’ll be singing along like a child, giddy, or a pirate, drunk.

Rarely does nonsense feel this religious, rejoiceful and absurd.  Is this listening experience kinda like falling in love with a crazy person?  Or  maybe to some it’s like believing in a random idea put forth by one of the many crazy religious organizations out there involving their money making myths about the Lord, God, Creation? Sure and sure.

Some Lyrics from Rian Murphy & Will Oldham's, "All Most Heaven" E.P.

I’ve never figured out the lyrics to any of the songs on this E.P., I don’t want to.  The way they sit, sung so passionately by Oldham on top of classical pop arrangements and major melodies are mesmerizing.  Chords and vocals are performed so smooth for anyone’s ears.  Your elders can cook afternoon soup to this and hum like many do to Andrea Bocelli records on Saturday and Sunday late afternoons. Rian Murphy, Archer Prewitt, Jim O’ Rourke and God knows who else must have been a joy to watch in the studio.  This is one of the finest collaborations ever caught on tape.  For years I’ve had this theory that Stephen Malkmus of Pavement makes an unlisted, vocal guest appearance behind Oldham during the 2:30 mark on track 2.  I doubt it but this is the myth I’ve created for myself listening to this E.P. for 10 years.  Take a listen and then create your own.  That is what it means to love music.

Track 2, “Fall and Raise It On,” contains these random lines;  ”sell me a peach o’ the ba ho… ate for the sake of all… waig an as’ a tode…”  Phonetically absurd, Oldham taps into what I’ve always assumed is a sailor’s heartbreak on tracks 2 & 3, companion pieces based on subtle references to boating or being a sailor?  Maybe just being drunk in love?  Strings, horns and backup singers weave ooos and ahhhs below and above the ocean’s moans.  ”Song of Most” recalls John Cale’s, “Paris 1919.”  Bouncing strings and congos rise to pass through a pointless chorus eventually joining subtle back up singers giving way to an amazing line that goes;  ”ah ee stood ape-hole.”  The song continues to rise, the strings magnificent, the background ‘ahhs’ louder, washboard and timpani join in.

Just when you’re accepting this E.P. may contain the most beautiful 3 songs you’ve ever heard that mean nothing and feel everything, the last cut takes shape, “Song Of All.”  It’s a slow reward for a closer requiring about 1:50 till the rest of the gang joins in briefly for what remains of this 4 song masterpiece.  It ends and you want to repeat track 1, “Fall Again.”

Featuring 2 of indie rock’s most prominent influences in Chicago area label owner, Rian Murphy (Drag City), and a critically acclaimed songwriter, Will Oldham (Bonnie Prince Billie/Palace Brothers), nothing defines the beutiful strange midwestern/Chicago music scene pre-Yankee Hotel Foxtrot so well as this does.  This E.P. is a reminder that there was beautiful, colorful, sounds bursting from the Chicago underground before Wilco exposed some of it’s seeds to the world.  10 years have passed, hipsters & developers moved in to take over the neighborhoods and some of these brilliant musicians moved west, east and out.   Some of you just missed it, this E.P.’s a reminder as to how great the ’90s Chicago underground indie scene was.

“All Most Heaven” is a little fertile musical reminder of a Pre-Yankee Chicago.

dD |  sMs

The Pimps

The Pimps |  Part I:  A CD review of 2010′s “F*ck This Sh*t, We’re Outta Here” by The Pimps… disguised as a letter to the Rockford Register Star and other pathetic media outlets for dropping the ball for so long.

By Andrew Whorehall

The Pimps "Oh those Bilderbergs..." Free MP3 Single

“Oh those Bilderbergs and their kooky culling plans.”

“Dear People of Rockford & to the few, powerfully, negligent, local media outlets–  specifically the Rockford Register Star, The Pimps, should be cited as much as Cheap Trick- if not more.

I’m not implying you’ve ignored them for not recording a hit cover song like “The Flame” or an original like “Surrender.”  I am assuming they’re too non-tradtionally smart, volatile and explosive for your cultural, musical tastes.  With all the worries you have at the RRStar for censorship, stories from the wire, writers with no names, those large colorful digital pictures- it’s no wonder when ‘Freedom of Speech’ is doubted now a days.  See The NYTimes for many examples but I won’t look too far, I stay local and read between the lines.  Your hard edits are very visible to these eyes.  Could you be any more obvious?

I ask that you honor & respect The Pimps for poetically naming their new record as it is named.  For that alone, local honor is past due.

'F*ck this sh*t we're outta here." by The Pimps

The record’s title, “F*ck This Sh*t, We’re Outta here,” is demographically poignant too. Add “Rockford, IL” to the end of their title line and you have one of the more successful city taglines forming one, classy, bumper sticker with a matching T-Shirt.  Said record of said title above is a gun-shot-blasted-love-letter-like-loaded-bullet written & made in our once great, industrial city.  Filled with American goodies and menacing spirits;  capitalism, weapons, partying, defeat,’FTSWOH’ is one of the midwest’s finest, punk, American recordings to come out of Rockford, IL- ever.  It’s a loud, proud, middle finger to the establishment from an economic wasteland that doubles as ground zero for dead end dreams and empty, once colorful, balloons– this is the Rockford, IL you should be reporting with urgency and explosiveness.

Face it RRStar.  Your articles are cupcakes generally filled with air.  Cupcakes are best eaten, not read.  That’s this writer’s opinion, not Sock Monkey’s, leave them out of it.  Fortunately they believe in Freedom Of Speech too as long as no one gets hurt.   Generally that seems like a pretty easy social rule to follow.  I know I’m not alone.  Get to know the people who do think for themselves,  the people that are closer to the ground than the moon.  The truth is down here in the river filth and the industrial aftermath.  Have you read your own Classified Jobs section?

A serious question disguised as a joke was just posed to me by two people on separate occasions, neither the med student or the professional knows each other.  The question turned joke was, “Did THE ONION buy the RRstar out?”

Where is this going?

Please don’t change a thing, just do what you can, to talk about the bands you ignore once in awhile.  It helps the artists and the community know a bit more about a proud, defeated hometown that has wayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy too much talent drowning here.  You’re not helping as much as you could be, RRStar.

Why does this concern The Pimps?  This is their most cohesive album to date and possibly their last.  Either way, people ‘not’ from Rockford, IL, should know more about this band too.  This is where you have failed dear city and media of mine for years already by not assisting in a little PR when you had your chance.  WZOK, your mallhair is wearing and sounding a bit too thin.  WXRX, eat a d*ck sandwich for sucking so hard for so long.  RRStar, change your name to, ‘The Onion Jr.’

To all the media outlets in and around Rockford, IL, you’re no different than the major label that cut The Pimps from their budget in 99, trying to blindly leave them behind.  Well, no thanks to you, Rockford, IL, they’ve managed to run a decent hardworking, punk operation anyway for 16 years.  Another job well done.  This is for Sock Monkey Sound and for The Pimps. I salute you.  To the city of Rockford and to the RRStar plus other regional media outlets, iFinger you, wholeheartedly.

Regards,

Andrew Whorehall

PS:  Let me state a point that may have gone missing above (as this letter may be a bit passive, fueled by years of ‘dead air’ readings of the RRStar, and just maybe a little misdirected);  one of the best kept rock n’ roll secrets is Rockford, IL’s punk scene.  How is it that such a fertile ground for amazing musical talent keeps to itself without the industry (what remains of it) blowing its cover?  Easy.  Musicians, bands, songwriters from the midwest have a great knack for shooting themselves in the foot.  Whether it’s done ironically or because it’s our Gah Damn a’Merican right to do it, we’ve some how managed to do it better than most scenes.  It’s a pride thing, I guess.  All of this great music has been boiling over for a long time.  Call it a typical midwestern burden to bear but I’m calling it a joke that’s ran out of laughs.  This self-deprecating attitude is for math rockers and progressive jazz musicians high on country folk abnormalities.  1)  God knows math is not the people of Rockford’s specialty and 2) progressive-jazz-country-folk is for as*holes. You’re welcome.

"To a cool person, stay that way." by The Pimps

Unlike other successful, touring, midwestern bands who were ashamed to call Rockford, IL, their home young in their careers in the 70s and 80s (um, Cheap Trick/Chicago, IL), The Pimps, embraced their roots from the get go often citing Loves Park and Machesney Park as their home-base before settling on the always marketable city name, “Rockford, IL.”  It actually worked for them somehow.  Signing a major label deal in 1999 saw the re-release of their self-made debut record, “To a Cool Person, Stay that Way.”  A punk-funk rock record that was made in Loves Park, IL, at the old Noise Chamber Studios in 1996 and 1997.   The band has been together since 1994 but their roots as friends go much deeper together.  Tony (Bass) & Stu (Vocal/Guitar) have been best friends since they left their mothers respectable wombs.  It starts there. The Pimps are a family of brothers as much as they are a band of musicians.

"More Songs About Drugs With Curse Words" by The Pimps

A well-scripted situation occurred soon after signing with a major label.  About the same time The Pimps were told to change the name of their follow up record the industry was changing, cutting budgets and cutting artists.  ”More Songs About Drugs With Curse Words,”  was made by the same local team (Jimmy Johnson / Noise Chamber) in Rockford instead of agreeing to the label’s L.A. production request.  15 months into a contract, having been featured on the “Mission:  Impossible” soundtrack and various TV song plugs, The Pimps decided they wouldn’t change their record title after one of their label’s parent company reps, Disney, got whiff of it and made a request– and so went The Pimps, another budget cut.

For the better, they worked themselves out of it in control of their career with nothing lost and everything to gain. They already established themselves as a great, touring band with subtle business sensibilities.  The Pimps, to this day, actually still sell merch at every show and get from town to town in a van with equipment towing the rear. The way bands used to- or could simply afford to.  They’ll tell you first hand, ‘it’s not glamourous, gas prices have gone up- blah blah’ but their van is so much smarter than your band’s f*cking van.

The Pimps' also known as the country punk band, 'Sons of Many Bitches'

As the whole industry took a dump and blamed downloaders in the last decade, a band like The Pimps kept movin on to their own beat. They’ve self-released 9 full length records, they sell their own singles online, pay for their own merch production,  pay for their records production- and they tour playing dives 150 nights a year or more.  Many years ago, they (like this writer as well) figured out how to take care of themselves in an economically depressed city called, Rockford, IL.  Some of their last decade’s releases are hit or miss.  Great recorded live moments exploded with color on their alter-ego (Sons of Many Bitches) country punk band’s release, “Outlaw Gold MotherF*cker” and it’s companion EP, “Apparently Uninterested in a Life of Creative Growth or Social Relevance.”  At the same time they released, “Quickly Now Gentlemen, With a Lively Step.”

"Quickly now Gentlemen, with a lively step." by The Pimps

Working, recording, teaching instrument lessons, touring and earning their right to be as lazy when they want to be while we sit at computers in a lame working environment between 8am to 7pm fulfilling someone’s leftover ideas & rules to follow about the American Dream and making money.  What a farce.  The Pimps, repeatedly, make me feel like a sucker everytime I tuck ina shirt and put on khakis.  Why?  Khakis are for church, funerals or even worse, weddings.  Those recent recorded releases sit together as key discography door openers to what happened next in the studio for The Pimps.

“F*ck This Sh*t, We’re Outta Here,” or as I’ll type it for the rest of the article will be referred to as,  FTSWOH.  Not for censorship reasons;  but for typing alone, early arthritis-enabling concerns are on the mind.  This f*ckˆng wrist is killin’ me between writing about music, playing music while designing for other musicians and clients who wear khakis.  Let’s not forget the precious times I have with myself too; lighting a candle, body oil, me on me for hours on end trying to listen to Sáde, slow deep breaths… dogs barking, lawn mowers buzzing.  Nothing kills the mood more like white people in America making domestic noises while their mistrained dogs bark uncomfortably allllll day when you’re trying to get a little love on yourself in the daytime.  Gals are cool too for these kinds of moments, but at some point it does become a financial investment that’s guaranteed to lose more than gain.  Whatever, we’re all gonna lose, mother nature, she or cancer has the cards that read that one line I’ve ripped off from Bob Dylan in his f-you masterpiece of a song, “Desolation Row.” Over and over I recite that line.  Anyway.

Let’s define a band?  Men, once kids, who set out on a mission together as friends & musicians, making mistakes together and enjoying success together.  Another simple us vs. them, old school, rock n’ roll rule… where did that rock n’ roll business sensibility go to?  Did MTV, American Idol, destroy it?  Seems like it, just “blame downloaders.”  The Pimps are five great musicians tied together by some strange brotherly thing you only hear in guys that stay together for a very long time. It’s unheard of now-a-days. Watching them perform live is one of is one of the midwest’s great punk thrills.  They work harder than any local politician, aldermen, etc., when they perform out their perfect, collective craft.  They are truly one of Rockford, IL’s finest artist ensembles to watch live.  They’ll have you questioning yourself;  ”Is this punk?  Is this country?  Is this just rock n’ roll?  Or is this comedy?” Playing music for a living is hard work, it’s supposed to be funny too, yes.  Otherwise, go put on your khakis and tuck in your Target shirt, paint on that perfect smile and die one day.  Sounds like fun.

Stu, Tony, Todd, Hilly and Dave.  Hell, throw road manager G.T.in there.  G.T. is to The Pimps as Albert Grossman was to Dylan, calling the shots most of the time on when, where, how but mainly he’s their friend too.  Albert wasn’t really Bob’s friend, he was a great, Jewish businessman with a monetary agenda that drove Dylan’s musical agenda.  Add different times, different clothes obviously.  To be able to call out the guys’ names like John, Paul, George & Ringo is unheard of now.  Think about it.  Ryan Adams dumped Whiskeytown– whoever they were (Cary Caitlin and Phil Whateversher) and the midwest’s own recent major signing, Cory Chisel, does as he wishes with or without the original Wandering Sons.  It’s just how it is now a days.  Labels can’t quite act like large greedy banks anymore.

The business of music is as suicidal as it’s ever been.  The industry cares about the songwriter in most contractual cases, how does he look first, then, how does he sound?  IS the band good looking too?  IF not, haircuts?  This is one of many selfish, liable contracted reasons why labels ruined their own sales in the 2000s, not downloaders.  Labels used to be known as an artist’s bank.  Now, where I come from? We all know artists can barely pay for a sandwich let alone the 1 million dollars they’re expected to owe back after distribution and touring slots opening for some sh*tty band like Seven Mary 3.  It’s a self-made, self-imploding, a’Merican influenced, capitalist joke of a system set up to steal or fail at some point.  Every artist gets cut at some point.  Even the great ones.  Think about every great label, their heyday, the great records, artists they released… seems like Sony or Time Warner owns everything and every contracted artist in some way, shape or form ends up owned by these 2 conglomerate media monsters… suckers or survivors?

Well, not The Pimps, for better or worse they don’t seem to care where they fit in.

"FTSWOH" by The Pimps

The road alone has taken them to this;  their 2010 release “F*ck This Sh*t, We’re Outta Here,” is a local gem of a production I’m proud to call my hometown’s own.  Not just as an artistic statement but as a pro-Freedom of Speech, American statement.  It’s an explosive, ‘go f*ck yourself and the establishment you represent,’ guitar rock, punk record with honest, lyrical sentiments dressed up in swear words.  The record bursts with great production and tones courtesy of Mark Gustafson (Recording / Engineering), Ed Dulian (Mixing) and Justin Perkins (Mastering) bringing out the aggressive tight performances that have always been known for.  They’ve never sounded this catchy either.

It’s a manipulative listening experience; smart pop-punk songs about capitalism, the music industry, working hard, partying hard, remaining relevant in a cruel world, accepting defeat, doubting victory, sharing the successes or pleasures we all seek, right and wrong. If Tom Waits’ hooked up with the Arctic Monkeys for a weekend binge, well, this is what happens when you get Tom going 130 miles an hour trapped in a Rockford, IL garage.  I’m on to you Stu Johnson;  excessively long song titles and an impressive record collection can’t fool everyone.

Influences run deep on FTSWOH, american desert blues and british garage rock trade rhythm and licks between “A Good Mechanic is Hard to Find” and “These Are The Things, I Know, I Know.” Don’t be ashamed to slam dance in your own kitchen. By the time you get to “Now Michael, it’s just T.V.” you’re ready for an ice cold beer and a foot stompin horse gallop through the house to the front door, lock it.  Now, gals, guys, grab your man or woman or whatever you prefer– this record is it, the perfect accidental aphrodisiac.  Wear a contraceptive, please. FTSWOH gets down and dirty right away, no time to waste, the sun is goin, goin, gone, get movin, try that one thing upside down. Smiles for everyone– including the neighbors and the friends stopping by your house you won’t hear knocking for minutes on end.  This is a fun, explosive, intelligent rock record worthy of many repeated, satisfying listens.

“Oh Those Bilderbergs & Their Kooky Culling Plan” is one of the catchiest a’Merican folk-rock POP songs you’ll hear this year with the worst song title.  Some glorious, fuzz guitar leads dance around Todd’s congo drums.  Normally this is a recipe for pop song failure or an easy way to contract a musical disease called, Don Henley-itis , but the song is some sorta punk-folk-rock-blues a’Mmmmerican magic. ‘Bilderberg’s…‘ may be Stu’s finest documentation as a quick witted, lyricist with something more to say when the reverb is turned down and the crowd goes away;

“If it’s their job to break our hearts,
they’re payed quite well.
Well, I’m not impressed I must remark.
If I had to guess how it all unraveled and came apart?
Well, It’s their job to break our hearts.”

Again.

Dear Rockford Register Star and to other media outlets from this strange place and beyond, please open your ears to one, loud, manic, swan song of a punk-pop record made by one of the Midwest’s great, independent, American, veteran, punk acts.  There’s 2 cover art versions, same songs, however; I prefer the one with the bearded American man eating the large dong sandwich on the cover.

Try to sit still and listen, you’ll possibly fail as you find yourself wondering when one song ends and the other begins. The rewards lay within pausing to replay and sing along with a laugh;  ”I.M. ‘Merica” or handclap your fists off with, “Gun says,’Yes’.”  Again, to repeat myself, the tones, the guitars, the pace, Mark Gustafson (Recording / Engineering) and Ed Dulian (Mixing) should be proud of their tag team effort.  FTSHOH breezes by so quick you’ll forget where your head is at by the time the last song hits– the title song.  It’s a toast to Rockford, the Midwest, hardwork, broken dreams, accepting defeat and sharing successes while singing about it with your friends one last time, moving on and out.  As 33 minutes end, ‘FTSWOH’ is an ultimate toast to themselves and to the hard work they’ve completed as a band of musicians, friends, brothers, family and to the cross roads they’re now at, personally and artistically.

“F*ck this sh*t, we’re outta here.”  Or not.”

dD  |  andywhorehall.com

____________________

The band authorized a free download of one MP3 song to share from their newest record, “Fuck This Shit We’re Outta Here.” Click here to download:

“Oh those Bilderbergs and their kooky culling plans.”

What is this? A review of the new Suns release, “The Howl and the Many/Close Calls in the U.S. Space Program”

Why is this? Because they asked us and I’m always happy to oblige.

Is that all you have to say? Pretty much.

Mister Chip Copeland sent me an IM a couple of days ago. The conversation basically amounted to

Chip: Hey, can you get a review of this finished by next week?

Me: Can I? Yes. Will I?  Also yes!

It was pretty succinct.

I’ll admit, I had never heard (or heard of) Suns prior to being assigned this review. That’s cool. I’m going into this blind and the lack of predisposed feelings will theoretically keep my reaction genuine (though I would challenge that assumption and suggest that all truthful reactions are genuine if we are mindful of those pre-existing ideas). First to our old friend Myspace to figure out who the hell this band is. According to their bio:

“New in this incarnation, but certainly not new to music itself, the players behind the up and coming six man band Suns will be making their debut at the Metro this Saturday. Hatched from the head of Mikey Russell who, having somewhat recovered from the split from his band Wax on Radio, decided to get back in the musical saddle, Suns is another example of jamming turned into something more. Made up through a collection of friends and ‘heard through the grapevine’ connections, the new band has already seen one line-up change, when original drummer (one of two), Bryan Fritz had to leave for his own personal reasons “a very sad day for our band, since he was our first drummer and also a very solid dude. We were lost for a while.” (Matt Lemke) Fortunately they found fusion in their next drummer, Clinton Weber, and since July of last year have been a solid six, including everything from guitar, mandolin, banjo, and bass to synth, glockenspiel and dual drummers.” (via reviewsic.com)

Now what do we know?  Well, one of the members was in another band and then started this band. Unfortunately a guy who used to be in this band quit the band but everyone still loves each other and plays lots of different instruments. Great. I’m still not sure of what they sound like. I think I saw Wax on Radio play once a few years ago. The entire extent of my memory consists of standing there and thinking, “This band’s name is really similar to TV on the Radio.  I have nothing to say about the music. I’m hungry.”  Still without a clue of the actual sound of the band, I decided to forge ahead to sunsband.com and finally download the release (note: they had music posted on their Mypsace page and a player on the website but I chose to ignore those sources for narrative purposes).

Upon arriving, a question struck me. I knew the two EPs were intended to be released as one complete album at some point. That means they were probably intended to be listened to as an album. What was the intended order? This baffled me for a good half an hour as I downloaded both releases and then sat pondering for 28 minutes after that. I could move from left to right as if I were reading a book (listening to The Howl and the Many first) but what if that was the opposite of correct? Few albums other than Rod Stewart’s A Night on the Town work equally well starting with side B (“The Rock Side,” as it were) as they do side A. After much hand wringing, I decided to move alphabetically because the alphabet has never let me down during our 22 year relationship (beginning with Close Calls in the US Space Program, for those playing along at home). Then I hit a snag in the listening process.

That is to say, I started listening. 30 seconds into, “You are On,” I swore.

“Shit,” I thought, “This sounds like Minus The Bear.” What I really meant was that it sounds like The Felix Culpa but even my internal monologue is trained to find a comparison of wider regard. “How on earth am I going to review music of this genre?” I have no experience with post hardcore (this is post hardcore, right?) beyond those two bands. The problem struck quickly and remained throughout the entire 39 minute listen. I found myself without any real reaction. There were certainly moments of aroused interest when I would give a doglike twist of my head at a nifty bit of instrumentation or when I finally realized how much singer Mikey Russell reminds me of Tim McIlrath. The pinging guitars and echo-y drums give the illusion of movement and the shouted, gang vocals suggest enthusiasm but I had nothing to really grab hold of and say, “Yes! I have an opinion about that!”

This is not to say that the music is bad or unskilled by any means. I’m having a very difficult time keeping this all from coming across as very negative because Suns is a band that clearly knows what they’re doing. The recordings are layered in a way that’s quite impressive. If this record was a tree I would describe it as, “verdant,” because it’s got thick green leaves everywhere! If I was a much less eloquent person I would say it was, “lousy with a shit ton of cohesive elements.” It’s just, I don’t know.  Switch to List Mode:

Real complaints:

1. These songs don’t sound or feel like they’ve got two drummers going at it.  This is obviously subjective, but when I go into something expecting two drummers, I want that element to be noticeably utilized like it’s been done by Colossal or late period Melvins.
2. After my first listen, I was surprised to find that none of the songs are more than 6 minutes long.  My 2^nd and 3^rd listens didn’t share that surprise but the feeling of over-length remained.

Things that deserve mention:

1. On the whole, I did find “The Howl and the Many,” to be more enjoyable than “Close Calls in the US Space Program,” which set the tone for much of this review.
2. “Everything Changes” brings  some grit that I found to be very helpful to the band’s sound.  The ballad, “Gladys,” is genuinely beautiful and will be finding a permanent spot on my iPod.  There’s about 45 seconds in the middle of, “Four Winds,” when Russell repeats, “Who do you think you’re fucking with? My friends are coming back again,” that sounds distinctly like late 90s Radiohead (that’s a good thing).  Actually I really dig the last three minutes of the song.

Final Verdict:

For me: Meh. I don’t know.

For people who are not like me: Check it out. There’s a pretty good chance that you’ll be into this.

Visit: http://www.sunsband.com/download/ to download the release

A look back at Teenage Fanclub’s 1991 power-pop, indie classic, “Bandwagonesque.”
Plus a guest appearance by the best bowler I’ve ever known.

by Dave DeCastris

The Teenage Fanclub, (New Album on Merge Records 6.08.10) in a car, cassette player, a green 2-Door Buick LeSabre, 1991.  I spent a cold, December day riding around with my friend, Reggie “Railroad” Reynolds– the best bowler I’ve ever known,  listening to “Bandwagonesque.” We’re almost 20 years removed now from the Scottish band’s second release.  The fall/winter of 1991 has become an influential, indie rock landmark for music lovers, critics and artists alike.  Nirvana’s “Nevermind” was released in September, the Fanclub’s “Bandwagonesque” in November, and Pavement’s “Slanted and Enchanted”, was technically finished in the spring of 1991, released to critics in the fall prepping music geeks for an early 1992 release.  1991 is a monster of an influential year for music lovers.

Bandwagonesque Art: Gene Simmons once sued Geffen Records for this artwork used for distribution. They sent him a check. No joke- look it up.

The war on grunge music and gang rap hadn’t begun yet in 1991. Grunge ended with Cobain’s suicide in 1994 and gang rap got it cold hard with Tupac’s fake assassination in 1996 followed by a bigger whammy, B-I-G.  Jay-Z picked up the torch fine but he’s more of a poet than a gangster rapper.  Perfecting the delivery and documenting further the real stories of American streets, people, life that is no different than the inner city streets our government promotes invasions for in other countries.  Marketing American street life can be very blurry however, when it’s done right, it represents an artistic, educative, feat– larger than anything the grunge movement had to say.  Jay-Z, Biggie, Tupac for many are the Bob Dylans of their, my generation.  I didn’t have the streets though, I can’t claim anything other than a pure joy to listen and wonder how all those words came together to tell a story about the America I was unaware of in some songs.  No one counted on slackers and poets to sneak in with a sweet tooth for documenting domestic mediocrity so well either.  The class of 1991 pulled this off.  I’d argue the class of 1991 trumps the entire 2000s as well.

2000-2009 wasn’t so memorable for many cultural reasons that infiltrated  the music industry.  The decade is easily defined by down-loadable singles and lunch box beats.  Corporate Media entities emerged to buy out many of the last remaining, independently owned, radio stations;  WXRT, 93.1FM, Chicago, is a great example.  Major record labels blamed down-loaders for their demise when they lost touch with rock n’ roll’s ability to promote change, energy and positive rebellion.  They cut major career artists, remastered their recorded archives and bought into the American Idol value meal package.  These are only a few reasons why the idea of budgeting and marketing more albums by career worthy artists became lost.  The idea of even putting out a timeless record like the Teenage Fanclub’s, “Bandwagonesque” on a major label would be a financial risk and mistake now.  Being known as an X generation’s ‘Big Star’ with 3 songwriters sounds like bankruptcy today.

I remember the day I bought “Bandwagonesque” on cassette at the ol’ Apple Tree records in Rocford, IL.  The fact they had it wasn’t quite a miracle then like it can be now.  Hunting in wonder mixed with disgust for some of my favorite artists releases is the norm around my zip codes now.  I often save up a list to go to Madison, WI, to visit one of the country’s great indie music stores, B-Sides- they never let me down the way these zip codes do.

“Bandwagonesque” was released on Geffen Records in the States and Creation in Europe. I remember deciding between that or another recent fall release on Geffen  that made depression plaid colored and fashionable, Nirvana’s “Nevermind.”
Pink cover, yellow money bag- maybe nothing in it, still trumps the image of a swimming baby chasing money visually and artistically. Musically, “Bandwagonesque” is just as important as “Nevermind” is in regards to essential listening, production wise, timeless unlike “Nevermind.”

The intro line to “The Concept” confirmed a penny-pinched decision:
“She wears denim where ever she goes. She says she’s ‘gonna get some records by the Status Quo,’ oh yeah, oh yeah.” The oh yeahs, hook, line, sunk.

“Satan”, blasts a 1:14 of feedback, indie skronk, chaos, no vocals, the title says it all, a new theme song to roam the high schooled halls too then.  School days were mainly spent surrounded by contradicting humans in catholic schooled, clown suits, shirts sorta tucked and polo horses marking your family’s wealth or individual coolness- that’s how I perceived it, right or wrong, kiss my ass, track 2, “Satan”, is evil, metallic and a perfect setup for one of the most romantic indie pop songs written during the 90s, “December.”

“I take this chance to tell my friend what I’m thinking of…I’ve had this plan for many years but now I can’t remember, December.”

Crafted in strings, sweet lip-locking chords and feedback cues from American college rock.  A slowdance to Britpop sensibilities.

The production on “Bandwagonesque” owes as much to Phil Spector’s softer wall of sound, “Guiding Star” as it does to Kevin Shields’ glimmering, organized mess, “Is This Music.”  The most obvious comparison the Fannies have been tagged with their entire career is the ‘Big Star’ reference which shows up on “Pet Rock.” Imagine the Stones ’72 hooking up with the Big Star boys in Memphis, Ardent Studios, to throw down a few.

“Bandwagonesque” has become a heavenly soundtrack for surviving out of fashion, out of mind moments. The band, the album, the songs, clearly marks a period in pop culture that’s slightly out of step with the grunge scene ready to explode.  I felt one with this record- it, we, exists on our own terms.  The Fannies sound as timeless now and out of step as they sounded  then.  When “Alchoholiday”, track 10 hit, I was sold for life with Teenage Fanclub.  There would be no more air guitar singalongs to Extreme’s “Pornagraffitti II” or Def Leppard’s mighty, “Hysteria.”   The core writing trio of band members and songwriters, Blake / McGinley / Love, laid it all down that afternoon for me driving around Rockford, IL in an old Green Buick, December, cold, 1991:

“There are things I want to do but I don’t know if they will be with you,
if they will be with you, there are things I want to say but I don’t know if they will be to you, if they will be to you.

Listen, ever get a feeling when you’re taken by the hand and led a course you can’t command?

Went to bed but I’m not ready– baby, I’ve been f*cked already.
Falling into line but I’m doing nothing, we’ve got nothing worth discussing.
Went to go but it’s all hazy, people say I’m going crazy.

All I know is all I know.
What I’ve done I leave behind.”

“Bandwagonesque” sounds a bit more poignant now almost 20 years later.  The last line to the Fannies “Alcoholiday” is one of many reasons I keep coming back to this record.

What makes the Teenage Fanclub so great, then and now? Three songwriters, Blake / McGinley / Love, who have somehow managed to make music for a lifetime in one band without killing each other or fighting for royalties.  Unheard of.

The Fannies core songwriting trio. Who's who? No idea.

What makes “Bandwagonesque” as a record timeless?  A simple cop-out answer is the songs but i’ve had close to 20 years now to think about it.  I wasn’t smart enough to know yet, then, the references to the alphabet letter “B” influences;  Big Star, Beach Boys, The Byrds, (NOT the Beatles).  Toss in the next letter in the alphabet after “B” and you get “C” for Crazy Horse.  I realize years later how much of “Bandwagonesque” rips off Neil Young and Crazy Horse’s magic garage formula as well as a silent nod to Sesame Street’s, letter “B.”.  Take “Like a Hurricane” or “Cortez the Killer” and turn it up to 11, toss in 3 songwriters forming an alternate Uncle Neil and wahlah, triple harmonies– The Teenage Fanclub.

Go get some 1991 kids. It’s even better now having almost 2 decades of dazed, sensitive, suicidal rock mixed with walmart agreements to fight against.   Don’t forget the downloads and copyright infringement attacks on college kids as excuses for corporate music failures.   Don’t forget  that everyone is making babies and still waiting for the next nirvana too.  Babies are still chasing dollar bills but they’re adults now, they’re my friends, they’re me.  “Bandwagonesque” is a record for those that still care a tiny bit to ask friends or strangers what it is they find so attractive about the Kings of Leon and Nickelodeonback’s music, not just their haircuts.  I feel like I’ve been here before, said that before but here’s my argument;  Nothing in the last 10 years comes close to the indie pop glory that is “Bandwagonesque.“

{For Kevin Schwitters of The Braves / Table & Chairs.}

dD  | andywhorehall.com

_______________________________________

EPILOGUE  | 2000-2008:  ”A bandwagonesque.”
I asked my childhood friend, Eric, what his favorite records were in the 2000s and he answered me with a social observation instead.  We never answer each other’s questions with an answer.  He had been bothered by interacting with people at work, an American Dream kinda place, a bank, and their interest in communicating about sports vs. music.  He pointed out a decade-end social flaw he had encountered more than once in the workplace when discussing night activities or weekend chores;  “Man, we just didn’t have it you know?” Reality check Eric points out,  “Uh, We?  Whoa, did I miss something, who’s we and what did we lose?”

Demographically speaking, Cubs & Bears fans are prone to communicating like this.  Eric went on to single out the Chicago Cubs as a reference for pointless communication & subject matter.  He says to me, “Let’s say you’ve just wasted more money on the same girl at the same dinner joint to watch some other guy pick up the baton 2 hours later, repeatedly- really?!  Then yes, you are a ‘lovable loser.’” I expressed I needed more to understand.  “The self torture Cub fans put themselves through to then talk about it like they’ve earned that brand of frustration, proudly, as if you contributed to the loss?  No, that’s just crazy, delusional even.”

In a turnabout of topics he stated why he always comes back to “Bandwagonesque” over anything released in the 2000s.  He chooses it over most anything else due to one entertaining reason, “It’s just great, no one has the balls to make pop music like that, no one can afford to… sadly.” Regarding the sports side analogy of his.  Let’s try to indirectly connect it to the Fannies: 

The Teenage Fanclub’s “Bandwagonesque” is everything  a person needs to defeat team spirit.  A soundtrack to defeat Cub fans and Bears fans and domestic people, co-workers, who proclaim in passing, “Man, we just didn’t have it.”

A bandwagonesque.

My frand, Reggie

My frand, Reggie “Railroad” Reynolds, and my Ol’ Green Buick.

{© 2010 Illustration by Andrew Whorehall for SockMonkeySound.com}
NOTE to Strangers:   We are not from Hollywood, we are from Rockford, IL and we will sue your ass if this is caught being used anywhere for profit or marketable gain- especially in the southern states or Texas.  We’re not really concerned with Louisiana, we love you but Mother Nature has been pretty cruel, our sympathies.   Watch it America, we WILL sue your ass. Ok, bye bye.

A many months later monologue-critique-intro to Chicago, IL’s, finest, Cameron McGill & What Army. Inspired by a performance @ Kryptonite, Rockford, IL, 11.25.2009, Thanksgiving Eve. {by Dave DeCastris, 05.14.2010}

Part I
This is a bit late.  You know the saying? Better late than never or as I like to say, patience & a glass of water are a sniper’s most treasured weapons.  Cameron McGill has been making records for the better part of the last decade via Chicago, IL.  The past couple of years with an experienced traveling band , What Army.  Cameron’s got all the goods with this shotgun model band and all the bullets needed ready to fire, his songs.

On records, the sniper occasionally takes a seat for the poet.  Cameron is a great writer, character studies on Old America transported through personal experiences. Detailed, dark explorations of the human soul, relationships and narratives delivered with bite, bitter and honest.  The players on record have changed over the years but Cam seems to have found a creative stride with the current ‘What Army’  lineup.  Daniel J. McMahon, the midwest’s own everyman any band becomes better with, punches nasty guitar tones up against Darren Garvey‘s Kotche-esque killer percussion patterns vs. Rodrigo Palma‘s grammy worthy bass lines balancing out Cameron’s captain of a fragile ship delivery.  What mood is the captain in?  Piano or guitar?  Either way, you’re in for a treat or a trainwreck when you catch the What Army live.  Even when Graham Burris (Matthew Santos/Lupe Fiasco) has to step in for Rod, you still get a grammy worthy bassist, seriously.  You get a great band regardless of the outcome despite what they tell you about their defeated performance afterwards. An honorable midwestern trait.

Cameron & the boys have been through Rockford, IL, a few times.  I often wonder why (and knowing why), they’re bigger than this town but the road travels where the road must go to pay the bills in any way possible.  They’re bigger in talent alone than the joints they play but for now, I’ll take it.  Lucky even, catch them while you can because you see, 2010 brings many changes to the What Army and Cameron McGill.  Their new record is done.  It will wait.   I will offer one phrase;  Van Gogh’s brown boots and the Chicago skyline has a soundtrack finally.

2010 brings many great shoestrings for the Army to dangle and skip through with a finished record on standby.  Cameron also plays keys in another great, midwestern indie band called, Margot and The Nuclear So and So’s.  They have their own record coming out later this year, “Buzzard.”  Rodrigo, tours with Saves the Day.  Darren, with the Andreas Kapsalis Trio/Cory Chisel/Ernie Hendrickson and many more. Plus he just released his own wonderful solo record, “Under a Common Ceiling.” Daniel plays with the entire states of Wisconsin and Illinois, furr real.  He deserves his own Constitutional scroll.

The amount of talent in this band is beyond heart failure levels.  For them to be overlooked any further would be an artistic tragedy on it’s own.  Something has to give in 2010.  This is a career band, this is a career artist.  Hint, hint, America, listen.

“You see, this is a little too wordy for me, he’s too wordy, I like my rock to rock, he’s too whiny.” A man, Don, said that to me at Swilligan’s Pub one night the Army came through to play Rockford in late 08/early 09.  Don likes his rock to rock, no wordy stuff, no thinking, to each their own. Cam & The boys played their hearts out that night to a majority of undeserving, typically drunk, annoying people. A standard Rockford audience for a bar band.  Like anywhere, maybe, but sorry Don, I respect your opinion, I like wordy.  Classic rock radio is always a car ride away.    Weapons are words too my friend.  They closed with “Human Revolution” that night which has yet to see the light of day on record.  The song encapsulates all that is good in rock n’ roll when modern influences meet within one song.  Those being Radiohead/Wilco/Smiths hangin out near a Rufus Wainwright sea side and then, dragged through the midwestern corn fields to settle somewhere in, near, outside an ugly, selfish, hipster hut.  A dare to be different or get me out of here monster, Chicago.  A perfect encore closer for this Army.  Their music deserves to be anywhere and everywhere else besides the midwest.  Keep in mind, the midwest with all respect, is practice grounds for the best.

Part II
11.25.2009  |  Kryptonite |  Rockford, IL
Kryptonite is a great little unknown rock bar in a deserted, downtown located in Rockford, IL.  It’s one of 2-3 reasons to go downtown in Rockford on the west side of the bridge.  Chris Wachowiak, the owner, is a good guy, cares about downtown, cares about it’s health and about music.  Grab a meal or a drink at Octane beforehand, always great.  Talk to Dan the owner if you can catch him- he has other jobs, like many of us do in Rockford to survive. After your meal, stand still in the middle of the newly constructed street that will lead you a half-block to Krypto. A walking mall was once there, the America I miss.  Grilled cheese and 45s, Woolworths with mom in the 70s is my downtown to hold onto. Times change, stand there, close your eyes in the middle of the street and wait for a bird to sh*t on you. Why?  There’s a greater chance of a bird taking a dump on your head  than a car passing through and hitting you.  I mean this, I did it with my thespian friend and we waited, she laughed at me, I didn’t.  No car, no birds, no sh*ts, just a few laughs.  Our generation’s America in a nutshell.  My grandparents, from where they sit and watch down from space, are not proud of the Rockford they built.

11.25.2009 was a special night however.  Many birthdays, Thanksgiving Eve and Cameron McGill & What Army at Krypto.  What you also need to know is that every college kid is home from school.  Every family member transplanted to better jobs elsewhere are here too.  All waiting to get their drink on while ruining a music lover’s main course.  Cameron McGill & What Army are the main course this night.  Those mother f*ckers home for the holidays had no idea, no respect, towards what was gonna hit them.  At some point, I politely told a friend to stop touching my sister & shut up or go to the back of the bar so I could listen to the band.  There are some things, rules, principals, one should practice to enjoy a band.  Gettin’ loaded and high is not one of them, that’s just retarded.   Hiding from the crowd and telling people out of line to shut the f*ck up is acceptable, yes.  It is.

The Army this night is on top of their game.  I do not have video from this night (see bottom), however, I shot horrid video in April of 2009 at Krypto, take a moment to listen to all the hillbillies  talking:

Cameron McGill & What Army
04.10.2009
Live @ Kryptonite, Rockford, IL

Ghosts of New York from Dave DeCastris on Vimeo.

Unacceptable. People, this is socially unforgivable when going to see, listen to a band. Shut up or head on over to the Chuck E. Cheese.  They have skiball there, I love it, and you can talk and laugh and hang out with the other kids making noises and sneezing, spreading their bacteria.  I hope you get sick too.  Chuck E. Cheese is a guaranteed flu blast everytime I have to attend a family’s child party there.  Bring some sanitizer, you’ll thank me later.

On Thanksgiving eve, 2009, Cameron McGill & What Army played their hearts out.  Rockford reunited under a punk-folk rock green lit glow.  The kids yelped and belched about that one time in high school they got high and the home team won as the ‘Army played “Low Ways”, “Madeline”, “She’s a Killer” and many more with a sniper’s slow, calculated attack.  The moment I remember the most watching this great band snip away at the crowd was during “Dead Rose”, a song to be released.  You see, Rockford’s finest, reunited, hillbillies tried to win all night but ultimately failed when Captain McGill and Corporal McMahon busted out the dirtiest double rhythm guitar solo I’ve heard this side of the womb, 1973.  Crazy horse, panthers, dead roses took over the distance between the crowd talking and the brain thinking.  Rod and Darren bringing up the rear with dirty canon ball sized rhythm and release.  This is all I’ve got leftover from that night, what a sh*tty live review right? Man, a birthday gift that solo was.  Happy Thanksgiving, yes.

Part III
Some final thoughts about the night, Rockford and when the saints came marching through to play Kryptonite.

From the piano, the captain declared:
“I wrote this song a long, long, long time ago.
About a girl, so mean.
She was a sssssssssssss- Snake.”

To that  I conclude.

“The Gardener”
cuts a flower from the weeds.
Poking the snakes with their pitchforks now.
In the field a saint’s heard singing,
“I wrote this song a long, long, long time ago–
about a girl so mean.  She was a sssssnake!”
Blinded bystanders called out,
“Man, stop being so subversive! You’re too wordy.”
Foiled by fools, it’s not their fault they can’t read cursive.
Taking cold comfort in the shadow of a tree,
he waits, laughs, sighs and thinks.
Snipers, bullets, shotgun, check;
there’s no urgent need or reasons to attack.
(Having said that, your apologies are due but after the facts.)
Boom, pop, hiss went their balloons.
The gard’ner breathes, the saint still swoons;
Don’t dare call me friend, nor enemy, nor man.
We’re not family, nor anything on deception’s behalf– or I will write you down.
With regards, whatevers and what nots, all of you have lost.
There’s nothing to win but this dead rose and a sniper’s grin.
The gardner.

(For Cameron McGill & What Army)
dD  | andywhorehall.com
_________________

Part IV
Buy CMWA @ iTunes.

Last year’s mellow, “Warm Songs for Cold Shoulders” and its tour e.p,, “Two Hits and a Miss.“ Also check out “Hold On Beauty“ and many more.  {Click here for the others, the  iTunes store is a mess but search around and treat yourself, please.}

ALSO, and finally, a treat.
The best performance that night took place in an alley across from Krypto.
Pablo Korona with Zach Staas, filmed this beauty in the rundown streets of Rockford, IL,
Thanksgiving Eve, 11.25.2009.

In the alleyway next to the Sullivan Center in Rockford, IL — November 2009

For me, the excitement happens at 2:30 after some stranger danger walks out the side door interrupting us. Sirens! Crank it up Danno says!

Ghost of New York — Cameron McGill from Pablo Korona on Vimeo.

The National, a Cincinnati via New York’s version of the Joy Division with Midwestern smarts, has traveled a similar path as another indie-darling, American, veteran band, Spoon. That being, specializing in ‘more of the same’ when it comes to their records, songs, delivery. They’re too far in by now to switch gears stylistically. Matt Berninger’s songs are studies of the everyday city man, common circumstances delivered with an almost empty, casual, narration very reminiscent of Ian Curtis, Joy Division, with a better command on melody. (You’ve heard it before, the New York scene of the early to mid 2000s and Joy Division comparisons, see Interpol if you slept through the 2000s.)

Expecting nothing, especially after a well-fed respectable listening streak of the last 3 National records (Sad Songs…/Alligator/Boxer), I expected the well to be dry. That those imaginary career windows close and Berninger moves on to a solo career and the rest of the band spends a life rewarded with poverty and alcoholism.  Such is life with a short career in music for many unless you have what it takes to relocate to far out of the way American places like Rockford, IL or say, Auburn Hills, MI, hell, why not, Modesto, CA? Apply for the ‘Personal Jesus’ Job Position that Depeche Mode and Johnny Cash sang about. You can live in poverty level, unrewarding and overworked situations, be an ex-indie band member saving cities from a cultural and economic flushing. Sounds nuts? I know, but not really. Take a walk through downtown anywhere. Dive deeper and open your eyes.

Not the case for The National, no plans for an early artistic break. “High Violet” as a record is more of the same as before however, it’s for the better somehow. Deeper, darker studies in American rock minimalism that after repeated listening, the darkness naturally reveals something quite colorful, focused and cruel.

“Anyone’s Ghost” says it all in about two minutes and fifty-six seconds. There’s this spot I call home below the ocean floor, cracked, where you can see and hear everything. It’s all clear from down there, below the filth and rusted remnants of wars passed. People become sharks above, circling on standby waiting for the next kill. Transmissions are interfered down here– listen for the laughing, always. On the base of the ocean floor, below Rockford, Auburn Hills, Modesto, below Ohio to NY in Berninger’s case, there’s old, long lost radios, assumed dead and drowned garbling in unison our favorite songs about lost loves and better times, everywhere. Then this song comes on and everything stops;

“You said I came close as anyone has come to live underwater,
for more than a month.
You said it was not inside my heart,
it was.
You said it should tear a kid apart,
it does.”

It’s a knock out. If songs could punch people on the face, not in the face, this one has knocked me out over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over. Annoying, right? Try listening to WZOK or other sh*tty rock stations for an hour without wanting to dive into the ocean or a deep brown river soon after. “Anyone’s Ghost” is a song that can squash a whole record, as great as “High Violet” is on it’s own, this song does that. The National hit a high mark with “Anyone’s Ghost.” It’s an American post-Bush era pop song with dark, steady, paranoid percussion, a killer chorus and key lines;

“I had a hole in the middle where the lightning went through it.
Told my friends not to worry.”

Paranoia never sounds this heartbreaking, empty even– defeated. This is The National’s greatest strength as a band. Especially after you’ve already been struck hard. Fear and anger are a human being’s weapons for emotional defense in most cases, not love and forgiveness. That comes later if you can out-swim the sharks and the mermaids to the bottom.

Paranoia delivered as a musical foil, “Anyone’s Ghost”, listen closer, there’s love and strength and it is dark and beautiful like many 4ams can be in any city, anywhere when everyone else is lying, puking or sleeping. The National goes darker than the city they’ve exposed on previous songs with “Anyone’s Ghost.” Their character studies are brighter, sharper, vivid- again, beautiful yet cruel. These are the ghosts in every one of us.

Give up now broken hearted hipsters, stay in, don’t go out late, this is a song you may hear before last call when all the plastered ghosts are out. We all know the drunk, wine drinking, city socialites will dance to this regardless with their eyes closed in a slow, hazy, head bobbing, chin approving, slutty or sweaty squalor. Squalid– like an orange-skinned, sloshed newscaster singing Don McLean’s “American Pie” soon after this song ends around 1:46 a.m., somewhere in a’Merica. Let them dance, let them sing, they deserve it being the bearer of bad news most of the time.

Songs like this connect on so many more emotional levels when you go deeper than most can or would want to. Is that honorable? Hail nawl, but:
The sharks go home.
Mermaids stop.
Everything is clearer.
F*ck your town and I’m outta heres become prayers instead of insults.

“Didn’t want to be your ghost.
Didn’t want to be anyone’s ghost
but I don’t want anybody else.”

“Anyone’s Ghost” is a poor man’s city anthem if you can manage to get back to shore in one piece. This song should help guide ya but leave the radios behind, please. Someone else is going to need them any minute now.

dD | andywhorehall.com

Compilations usually come with the hits or as an exit commitment by a band / artist to their label. Rarely do they arrive as an affordable gift to the fans. Pavement’s best of collection arrives like a cheap mix tape you made for a new friend in class, the hot gal with glasses answering the phone in the office– if you’re even that (un) lucky to have a job in an office torturing yourself and precious time over. You will all end up fired or laid off. This is our generation’s Merica. Work for somethin called nothin, yawn, whatever. 23 songs jam-packed and perfectly picked and sequenced to scare off wandering ears not in it for the long haul. Being, to discover the amount of goodness you may have missed out on with Pavement between 1990-2000. Their entire catalogue now repackaged and remastered abundantly by Matador Records at very affordable prices. Only 1 remains to be rereleased with the unearthed goods, “Terror Twilight.” Due later this year. but first, as every band gets to do eventually, a best of. In the case of Pavement let’s refresh, a perfect mix tape of sorts to scare off, fool, wandering newbies.

Pavement encapsulates the best of everything and nothing, just like the 1990s themselves. Everything they represented between 1990-2000 stood up against everything goin on in Rock n’ Roll. Reasons to feel ‘ok’ if you didn’t feel the awful sadness in the grunge movement. Reasons to care one way or the other about popular music’s descent into depression, or the Doors-like cover bands known as Pearl Jam stumbling in the door with Black Sabbath worshipping foils like Soundgarden. Nirvana’s about it as far as the credible American 1990s mainstream music scene goes and they physically / musically stole the Pixies formula. “In Utero” is the peak of the 90s grunge movement- and then done, gone. Most everyone else has been copying them or the Aerosmith soundtrack song formula since. The latter, a quarter pounder with large fries, garbage.

Everywhere else in the world didn’t seem to get grunge either, particularly the UK who embraced Nirvana and Pearl Jamz but questioned just about every other band comin’ outta the states until they really messed up in the late 2000s by giving Kings of Leon the keys to mainstream global success. Big mistake, UK, big mistake. When it’s all said and done, The Stone Roses / Oasis / Radiohead / Teenage Fanclub / and Blur would destroy the American grunge movement regarding quality and craftsmanship of the songs themselves, alone, a bloodbath of artistic song sorts.

Meanwhile, somewhere in America towards the end of the 80s, college kids working dead-end jobs hook up to make some anti-rock rock. Why? Because we all can, most of us don’t. The song “Here” featured on the best of compilation proclaims very early on: “I was dressed for success but success it never comes. Am I the only one who laughs at your jokes when they are so bad? And your jokes are always bad. But they’re not as bad as this. Come join us in a prayer…” An anthem of some sorts, an indie ballad, a rookie yelp for nothing.

Witty, deceptive, lyrics by Mr. Stephen Malkmus met sloppy disjointed arrangements, brilliant phrasing a la Lou Reed’s handbook and horrid, charming, home recording tactics to get outta the gate. An obvious love for one’s literary & musical influences are very prevalent in Pavement’s earliest recordings, even in their worst recorded presentation, see their debut single, uh 7″ hit, “Summer Babe”, from the recently remastered record, “Slanted & Enchanted.” One could argue, “how do you remaster a great record that was recorded poorly to begin with?” Doesn’t matter, it’s about the songs.

Maybe the most important moment in 90s indie rock’s movement occurred with the release of “Slanted & Enchanted.” Let’s note, briefly, months after, Teenage Fanclub’s “Bandwagonesque” and Nirvana’s “Nevermind” during the fall of 1991. The release of “Slanted & Enchanted” on Matador Records could not have occurred without grunge however or again, Nirvana.

Pavement’s marketable success blasted off once the ass-rocking Rush & Boston cover bands, Smashing Pumpkins and Stone Temple Pilots, took off to their own self-important brand of “I’m so depressed” rock in the 90s. Let’s be fair, “Siamese Dream” and “Songs from the Vatican” are very good 90s records I’ve listened to with pop admiration. But, but, but, but, there are no 2 better pop rock songs featured on one record that should have been astronomical pop radio hits like say Nirvana’s, “Smells like Teen Spirit” than Pavement’s, “Cut your Hair” and “Range Life.” The former says it all, almost a big hit but tooooo smarmy, too smart for the masses, and the latter I’ve mentally masturbated to over and over for almost 2 decades trying to figure out how to write the perfect country rock-or-whatever- love song about life, just life and calling spades a spade whatever road taken.

Let’s worship the lines from “Range Life” for a bit, nothing paints post-college life in a’Merica like this:

“Hey you gotta pay your dues before you pay the rent.” Agreed.

“Don’t worry, we’re in no hurry. School’s out, what did you expect?” Agreed.

“I want a range life if I could settle down, then I would settle down.” Agreed.

“Out on tour with the Smashing Pumpkins, nature kids, uh, they don’t have no function, I don’t understand what they mean and I could really give a f*ck.” Agreed.

Malkmus covers it all in this song. The band chugs along like a well-educated country rock band even though they aren’t. There are no open doors after college, that belief that higher education means something more- it doesn’t. In a’Merica, in a small town you come from, it just means you have no job opportunities, a piece of paper and tons of debt. After college in a metropolitan town like say, Rockford, IL means you’re an a*shole- not educated or job worthy. America 101. Malkmus stops to take it all in on the 2nd record, this song, “Range Life,” is always the highlight of any mix I make for friends and family. There are closed doors where you stand, people changing all around you, everyone telling you what to do with your life now but the open roads to do whatever still lead out.

Having friends in on the same belief is the catch. Malkmus, and founding band partner, guitarist, Spiral Stairs (Scott Kannberg) prove that having good friends on the same path in life, teamwork, can take you a long way. It also helps to have heart and soul like band members, Bob Nastanovich, Mark Ibold and Steve West. The amount of times seeing Pavement live were made memorable by the least musically talented member of the band, Bob, a true performance anti-artist. Even on record, he contributes possibly one of the finest recorded anti-art moments in indie rock answering Malkmus’s lyrical pose simply with, “I know him and he does” to:

“What about the voice of Geddy Lee, how did it get so high? I wonder if he speaks like an ordinary guy?” Malkmus asks on “Stereo” from the best record Phish never made, “Brighten the Corners.”

I believe to this day, Nastonovich is the most important reason why Pavement were even able to survive a full decade on the road surrounded by Malkmus’s lyrical wits and Kannberg’s guitar drive. I wouldn’t doubt Bob may be the reason they’re back together over a bet someone lost on a horse race. We won’t talk about original drummer, Gary Young, who was forced out before “Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain.” He deserves his own article or just watch the amazing band history doc available on the “Slow Century” DVD set.

Malkmus’s abstract songwriting style (think word association games) naturally fine tuned itself as he and the band aged a bit. The studio for Pavement was never more abused than on their manic, all or nothing, masterpiece, “Wowee Zowee.” English folk, punk, country, classic rock, they tried it all. The band’s validation to play as something more than Malkmus’s band are what makes the great, “Wowee, Zowee” an even better listen 15 years later. There’s so many songs to talk about on “Quarantine the Past: The Best of Pavement” including, “Box Elder,” which sounds glorious remastered, but only one song should sum up any doubts a new listener may have about Pavement’s credibility, “Fight This Generation” from, “Wowee Zowee.”

The song stands up against everything and nothing, then and now. It ends the compilation, as it rightfully should. The song’s building guitar, bass, synth, drum, subtle freak out is reminiscent of Sonic Youth as it meets the defeated vocal crys of: “…your life is about to come away from the mirror in a rain-shed, generation. Fight this generation. Stop, right.” The 10-12-15 times he repeats the song title met by a back seat driver’s assistance while driving through this thing; music, a storm, life. “Stop, right.” Yes.

For that moment alone defines Pavement on record, as a band, as a group of friends maybe considering going at it alone for awhile but not just yet. That unknown point every band, artist, songwriter hits a bit early on with their musical journey. That’s something to admire, these songs are just beautiful snapshots of a group of friends who stood up and just did something for nothing their way. Little melodic introductions to something larger or smaller, everything and nothing. Start with “Quarrantine The Past” and dig away at the remastered collection as you must. There’s a nugget of truth in every Pavement song even when they appear to make no sense at first. Some of these lines I still wake up with spinning around while staring at the ceiling, every day.

“Fight this generation.” I still am.
“I want a range life if I could settle down.” No thanks.
“Did you see the drummer’s hair?” I did and it still makes me laugh more than an albino, a mosquito, my libido.

dD | andywhorehall.com