Sunday, November 30, 2008
Friday, November 28, 2008
Click here to make those toes shorter.
Damn! What is it with my obsession with Memphis lately?
Here we have an early album from the cannon of Mr. Jay Reatard along with Ms. Alicja Trout. Let the synthesizers enter your mind. Then...go out and smash some douchebag in the face with a bottle. You'll feel much better. It'll almost be like getting licked by a puppy. Awwwww....
Enjoy The Lost Sounds self titled debut!
Click here to bring back Spinner's nut.
I was watching an episode of Degrassi High TNG (Yes, I'm too old) the other day when Craig Manning, one of the characters on the show was talking about music. All of a sudden he mentioned Neutral Milk Hotel as one of his favorite bands. It made me wonder if he liked them in real life and wanted to give them props or if the writers were just shooting for hipster cred and he memorized his lines while running on a treadmill with dance music playing on his ipod ? Sadly, this burning query will never be answered.
This album is their debut. It's called On Avery Island.
PS. Who cares if I'm in my 30's...that show is awesome. So is this band. Best played when you are rockin' softly.
Sides A, B, & C:
Sides D & E:
Click here for longer arms
Sure, Jack White isn't the mysterious rock and roll bad ass he once was, but you're a prick liar if you tell me you didn't think he was the cat's meow a few years back before he went and released Meg's sex tape...just kidding. I mean, before his new wife stabbed Meg...me kidding again. Hey, where's Meg? Megan? Hellooooooo? Megbot?
Anyway, this live show was rad and the vinyl version is next to impossible to get if you're not rolling in dough and coincidentally are registered with eBay.
It's a long show so I had to break it up into two separate files. Don't bitch about it. Just rock!
Click here for your very own tumor.
This Montreal band (Hi O' Canadarm)is exactly what you need the next time you are out for a night of fucking and fighting. They capture that whole trash rock vibe with great ease. I highly recommend that you peddle your ass down to the shops and buy whatever records this band releases.
Enjoy the debut long player from the Demon's Claws!
Friday, November 21, 2008
Click here for a brutal fisting.
Born in 1918, Claire Austin 's interest in music began in high school where she studied piano and sang alto in the choir. Originally she didn't want to make a career out of music, but after dealing with a strict father who didn't want her to go to college because he was nuts, she decided that she was going to sing at all of the jazz clubs in Washington just to spite him.
People liked what they heard and pretty soon she was singing all over the place. She was playing a gig in California during World War 2 when she met her husband, a soldier. He was playing the drums in some unknown band. She thought he had a nice ass and they married soon after.
That pretty much killed her career. She got pregnant and became a chubby housewife. It wasn't until 1953 when she got off of her ass and made this record. Damn.
Photo credit goes to dantiques dot com
Click here to listen to the bacon fry.
It's funny...when you were a kid you kind of looked at your parents music as lame because you wanted to listen to nothing but heavy metal and punk rock, but then you get a little older and realize that your parents knew something that you were way to much of a proud idiot to notice.
You realized that a lot of the older stuff was so much more rockin' than you would've imagined. Now, I didn't really have that problem because although my parents were a prostitute and a junkie, they did have awesome taste in music and they convinced me really early. Well, except for my brief infatuation with the Village People. This has nothing to do with the Elvis record I ripped from vinyl for you, but I thought I'd share. I wonder what my daughters are going to think of the White Stripes? I use that as the reference point because Elvis is going to seem as old to them as the T-Model Ford is to me.
Enjoy C'mon Everybody by the King, Elvis Presley!
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Click here for much more cowbell.
After posting the Bad Times record a little while ago, I was inspired to find my King Louie One Man Band LP for you guys and rip it straight off the vinyl. Personally, I don't really get into this one, but recent studies have shown a rise in popularity with kids 16 to 24. I'm a BBQ devotee so any other one man bands are surely gonna have a hard time getting in.
This is highly recommended for anyone who enjoys that voice over from those Zatarains commercials or snot nosed, silly lyrics.
Favorite track? She's a big, big bopper!
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
If anyone is interested in why I write this blog, I'll tell you. I love Rock and Roll. I love all of its silly little offshoots too. But the truth is: A lot of people don't. Who knows why Celene Dion is bigger than Rachel Nagy? Or Michael Jackson is bigger than Morrissey? It's a strange world. It's a good thing it is.
We live in a weird generation where bands get famous or infamous through a computer. One guy hears it...rips it...sends it out. After that, a hundred new fans are born. And that's just today. Imagine later...
The band has a thousand fans. 800 bought it online. 200 got it free just because...
Now, I call that a good day.
I began writing this blog just to see if I could. I started with a Thin Lizzy post. That was a while ago. I want people to know this music. I mean no harm.
There are kids out there who've never heard The Sonics, but they download an album from some blog and if they really dig it they go out and buy the t-shirts and go to the shows and try your next record out on vinyl, even if it's a grossly overpackaged, limited edition of 100 on that crazy, red wax. You win.
If you're an older band that hasn't had an album pressed in years, don't worry. There are many bloggers out there who aim to educate. We'll tell people about your band. If your album's out of print, no stores sell it and your record label doesn't sell it? Where do the kids buy it? Where does your money come from? Not music... because there isn't any of yours available to buy, but the bloggers...they at least tell your stories.
Sunday, November 9, 2008
Click here for a little heartache.
Oh Pete, I remember you when you were a fresh faced young man who was just experimenting with illegal substances. We were having fun. Who would've thought you'd like them so much? Anyway pal, we're not mad at you. No sir. If you need to be high all of the time, then so be it. Just do us a favor...don't die. We still love you. Thanks.
PS. Stay away from Winehouse. It's just too much of a mind warping crack blast that occurs when the two of you occupy the same space. Our veins can't handle it. Plus, she makes you look fat.
Click here to see me see you.
I ain't gonna write no big intro here. No ma'am. If you don't know who these Pacific Northwest rockin' fools were, well...here's a pretty good introduction.
Friday, November 7, 2008
Click here to crack the whip. You deserve it.
This may be my very favorite Smiths album of all time simply for its inclusion of "Handsome Devil." The driving force behind that songs only upsets me because it isn't longer than it is.
I was inspired to post this album because of a conversation with a young lady who isn't old enough to drink, but knows just as much about the 80's as someone who was a teenager then. This conversation led me to realize something that I'd known all along, but had forgotten; every cool kid, male or female, that I've ever come across has been infatuated with Morrissey at one point or another.
What is it with that guy anyway? He's like the Pied Piper for kids with emotional issues. As for me, I worshiped him completely. If he wore a checkered shirt, I wore one. If he wore big glasses, so did I. I wish that I still had the ten composition books full of poetry I wrote back then. I'm sure that it wouldn't bring any tears to your eyes, but they were good enough to be set to the back beat of Johnny Marr's guitar.
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
I hope I don't offend anyone (I will) by saying that I am not a religious man. I don't go to church. I don't worship anything. I don't really acknowledge that there is a God unless someone asks me if I believe in him or her. What's up with that anyway? People shouldn't ask that because they can't handle the answer they get if it isn't exactly their belief.
I wasn't raised in a religious household. Really, it wasn't much of a household at all, but somehow I've managed to become a good man. Sure that's my opinion and there's a chance that someone may feel I am not, but the truth is that I do right by my family, by my job, by my friends, and by the general public. I don't lie, except little, white ones like when I tell someone that the food they made was good, but I can't finish it because I'm full from something I had eaten earlier. Other than that I come clean about it all. Crap...I don't even jaywalk. I donate money to a few different causes and I try not to curse too much. I think I'm a pretty good guy.
I never really bought into the whole religion thing. It always came across as silly to think that people would spend time fearing some unknown figure that created the universe, worried that he or she may 'smite" us for living in a way that clashes with his ways. Really? If there is a God and a heaven and a Devil and a hell, and we're supposedly going to end up in one of them after we die, then why do we even know about it? More importantly, how does the guy who wrote the bible know about it?
The reason I'm writing this is simply because there have been an incredible amount of people lately who feel it is their sworn duty to save my soul from eternal damnation. Now, all of them agree that I'm one of the nicest people they know, but still, they all tell me that I'm destined for an afterlife of pain and torture if I don't start going to church, stop being fond of horror movies, and all sorts of other stuff. Horror movies? Yeah, according to some folks in the pack, horror films and any imagery containing skulls and/or anything closely related, are an invitation of sorts that were sent to the Earth by the Devil as bait. Ouch!
Now, trust me when I say that I'm definitely not walking around town dressed in black with skeletons plastered all over my clothing, but I do happen to own a jacket with a patch from the film Evil Dead on it as well as a few other shirts from horror movies I like. Still, I am going to Hell.
I don't want to go to Hell, if there really is one, and I'd really like to go to heaven and lay on a cloud or something, but if what all these folks tell me is true then because I do not sit in a pew or only watch the Hallmark channel, I'd better get prepared to roast like a lamb.
There's this one case in particular when I was training one of the new hires at my job and in the middle of a lesson he stopped me and grabbed his heart. He then raised one hand to the sky and began having a one on one conversation with God. Apparently, the guy didn't want to have the conversation with me, but God was telling him that he'd better do it or else, so he reluctantly agreed. What followed was truly bizarre. To make it short, he told me I was nice and funny, but he added that God doesn't care about any of that. God will only accept me if I become a complete and total devotee to him. I asked if all of kindhearted and good deeds would be enough and he said they wouldn't because I did not wake up to the Lord each day and constantly beg him for salvation. I challenged him and said that if your God can't recognize when someone is good, then I'm not sure what I could do about it.
God, if you truly are real, then I ask...can you come to Earth for a pleasant meet and greet without all of that death and destruction lesson your book says you're gonna bestow upon us? Some of us could really use the meeting. And Satan, if you are truly out there, don't come knocking. Nobody's home.