12.02.13

On December 2nd I listened to Willie Nelson Red Headed Stranger and Jake Bugg Shangri La.

SPOILER ALERT! The Red Headed Stranger kills his wife, her lover AND The Yellow Haired Lady! But The Yellow Haired Lady was kinda trying to steal his horse. He got off Scott free and they buried that bitch at sunset.

If that doesn't make you wanna listen to Willie Nelson’s Red Headed Stranger, then it’s pretty much safe to say you’re a bleeding heart liberal who hates America.

Willie Nelson is a national treasure and I feel like not enough people are listening to his music. Yeah, I like to think everyone knows he’s the guy that smoked a joint on the roof of the White House and he’s an all around bad-ass, but he’s so much more. Willie Nelson is one of the greatest songwriters and performers that ever lived. He’s a living legend and I’d say 100% of people under 30 only know him cause he hung out with fucking Snoop Dogg, or Tiger Mom, or whatever that pud is calling himself these days.

Willie Nelson is on tour for a big chunk of 2014, I suggest you go see him! God forbid, before it's too late! The man is 80 years old and he smokes more pot than a College Hacky Sack team. 

He’s playing in Oklahoma on my birthday and I’m booking a flight! I’m gonna eat some bull balls and see the great Willie Nelson! “Happy birthday to me! Keep the Prairie Oysters coming… I don’t want to see a legend on an empty stomach!”

I grew up with an appreciation of Nelson and Country Music. My asshole parents went through a Country Music phase that started in the late 70’s when Nelson was literally "the shit." By association I was listening to Willie and his buddies Waylon Jennings and Kris Kristofferson and all the old-school Country greats; Charlie Daniels, John Denver, Johnny Cash, Johnny Paycheck, Dolly Parton, Jerry Reed, Loretta Lynn, Barbara Mandrell, George Jones, The Statler Brothers, Hank Williams Jr., Ronnie Milsap, Kenny Rogers, Merle Haggard, Mel Tillis et al.

One of my favorite songs from that period is by David Frizzell, “I’m Gonna Hire A Wino To Decorate Our Home.” It had very special meaning to me. My dad was a loser drunk that spent more time at his favorite two bars than he did at home. The Urban Inn and Benny Pie’s were his homes away from home. Oh and when he wasn’t at his homes away from home he was usually sleeping over his girlfriend’s house. She was a large woman with no teeth and the mother of their illegitimate daughter, who they named after him. Sweet, right?

“I’m Gonna Hire A Wino To Decorate Our Home,” is a snarky little number told from a feed up wife’s perspective.  It’s about a drunk who is never home and the wife tells him quite sarcastically that she’s willing to turn their home into a piss smelling Honky Tonk just so the guy won’t fuck around and spend all of their money. It was my mom’s jam!

Subsequently, Jerry Reed’s “She Got The Gold Mind, I Got The Shaft” became my Dad’s jam. While I was caught in the middle, wondering why they didn't give a shit about “raising” me.

The interesting thing about those songs and a lot of those artists, I mentioned, is that they were creating a “new” Country Music. It was more modern, for the time, and the new school was holding a mirror up to more complicated current social issues. Going for a walk after midnight wasn't enough anymore. Songs need to be written and recorded on a grander scale to capture the imaginations of a broader audience. A broader audience of Hicks, Hillbillies, and Hoosiers, who make up the backbone of this great land of ours. That newer style is a lot more gimmicky and the current model for most Country Music today. Willie was certainly guilty of this too. Remember this?

The problem I have with most country music today, beyond the fact that it’s kind of annoying, is the disposable Pop nature of it. All the guys sing about drinking and banging and all the girls sing about how their men drink and bang (other women) too much. I guess, I’m assuming from trying to remember any country song I heard in the last ten years. The only one I remember is “Cruise” by Florida Georgia Line. Although, it meets three outta four of the American Country Music Associations criteria for "Countryness," it’s definitely a little too flashy for my taste. Nelly is in a mix of it. Not the mix they play on Florida or Georgia radio stations, however. Which I don’t think is irony, just good old fashioned bigotry.

Regardless, the ACMA measures how Country a song is by four themes:

1. The consumption of alcohol.

2. Lamenting over the loss of a loved one – either because you murdered them, somebody else murdered them, they just died from natural causes, or they bumped uglies with somebody else.

3. A favorite vehicle – usually a pickup truck, a horse, or a tractor. In one of the most cleaver Country songs of all time, Big & Rich made their dicks the vehicle. "Save A Horse (Ride A Cowboy)" earned an unprecedented 150% Country rating for that stroke of genius. 

4. A member of the opposite sex – who is either loved, despised, or loved and despised.

Simply put – a beer, a tear, a truck, and a tramp. Nobody’s crying in “Cruise” (yet), so it scores a 75% Country rating, but at the end of the day it’s just a Good Ol’ Boy Dance song. And I guess you need something to fill the dance floor at the barn hoe down.

"The Red Headed Stranger" earns a 125% rating for "Countryness." There's drinking, lamenting the murder of a loved one, two horses, and The Yellow Haired Lady, who also gets killed. Maybe that's 150% too. I dunno, maybe.

Redheaded Stranger is about as pure as country music can get. It’s not over-produced. There’s no ten-piece band. It is just Willie’s sweet voice, a simple narrative, and the perfect complement of backing musicians driving the story of the Redheaded Stranger from tragedy to redemption. It’s really quite beautiful and heartfelt.

Yet, the bleeding heart liberal in me thinks the Redheaded Stranger should have hung by the neck until dead for pumping The Yellow Haired Lady full of lead. Well, no I guess that wouldn't make me a liberal. ‘Merica!

For me, the main appeal of Jake Bugg’s self-titled debut was how much the kid sounded like Woody Guthrie. Modern references aside, Jake Bugg sounded like a forgotten 50-year-old folk album recorded by a thoughtful young man trying to end fascism with his guitar. Fuckin’ A!

Rick Rubin came along and changed all that. The age old mono vocals are gone, bigger arrangements clomp around behind the singer, Chad Smith (Red Hot Chili Peppers) was brought in to keep time on some of the songs and whatever Jake Bugg’s sound was… is now gone. Having said that, I still kinda like Shangri La. However, the title blows.

The main problem with the record is that it’s rather bland and each song melts into the next without much originality. Almost every track has an element that will have you thinking, “where have I heard this before?” 

“What Doesn't Kill You” opens with and is centered around a generic 70’s Punk guitar riff. I’m half expecting Glen Campbell to start singing “You And Me,” which isn't a bad thing, it’s my favorite song on the disc. Bugg sites Oasis as an influence and I finally hear that on “Messed Up Kids.” I’d have loved to have been in the room when Johnny Marr first heard “Kingpin,” because I’m pretty sure he called his lawyer and said, “have that bloke write me a check.” Johnny calls everyone a bloke, cause he’s English. He also pees in a “loo.”

I love Rick Rubin, but he didn't help make the best record for what Jake Bugg started out trying to do.

Tomorrow I listen to AC/DC and Imagine Dragons!

December Playlist - 2013 The Year Of Music

I had intended to do something special for the last month of 2013 - The Year Of Music, but here we are at the end of the first week of December and I'm finally finalizing the Playlist!

The year had one rule that I pretty much stuck to - Everyday listen to something old and something new. Unfortunately, albums that came out within the last ten years or so kind of got brushed over. Just didn't seem right to put a record from 2001, or 2005 in the classic album slot of the day. So, I thought I'd switch that up in December.

I wouldn't say 2003 was the best year of my life, but it was pretty fucking cool and busy. I quit a job in Philly and moved, sight unseen, into a three bedroom apartment in Jersey City, NJ with a good chance of landing jobs at CMJ and K-Rock in New York City. I did. Working full-time at CMJ, I wrote my ass off and working as a part time swing Jock at K-Rock, I also worked my ass off. A friend of mine that year called me a "machine." Because I was always either writing, on the air, at a show, and/or drinking. I didn't do much else.

Here is how a super busy day during that year would go. I'd work at CMJ from ten to six. Grab a happy beer somewhere and go see a band play. Head up to 40 W. 57th Street and sleep on Howard Stern's green room couch, the one every whack-packer, porn star and A-list movie star sat on, for a couple hours and then do two to six in the morning on the air. I'd go to CMJ and sleep under my desk until somebody woke me up sometime after nine. That didn't happen everyday that year, but it happened a lot and I wouldn't have traded it for anything.

At the end of 2003, this was the year end Top Ten List I submitted to the magazine:

I stick by most of that list. Most of it. The biggest glaring omissions being Radiohead Hail To The Thief, Death Cab For Cutie Transatlanticism, and White Stripes Elephant. I most have been trying to kiss somebody's ass with Rancid, Eels, and Mando Diao. Although, I did try and populate my list with stuff I listened to the most. So, I probably was listening to those records a lot. I'm thinking I didn't put Radiohead and White Stripes on there because I wanted to look cool, and yet I fucked that up. Rancid? I dunno. I'm pretty sure Death Cab wasn't on the list because I didn't get into that album until 2004. I spent all of January and February listening to Transatlanticism. "The New Year" was the catalyst for that.  

So, the final month of 2013 - The Year Of Music is filled with great albums from a great year of my life. 2003. Ten years gone. 

The December Playlist is also populated with a lot of new albums I never listened to this year, or even heard of, and are on a bunch of Year End Best Of lists already posted on the net. Never too late, right? Besides, I'm sure they all suck and it's just everyone else's way of trying to look "cool." 

December 2

Willie Nelson Red Headed Stranger

Jake Bugg Shangri La

December 3
AC/DC Powerage
Imagine Dragons Night Visions

December 4

Rancid Indestructible 

Parquet Courts Light Up Gold

December 5

Queen Sheer Heart Attack

Waxahatchee Cerulean Salt

December 6

White Stripes Elephant

Beachwood Sparks Desert Skies

December 9

John Lennon Double Fantasy

Deafheaven Sunbather

December 10

Death Cab For Cutie Transatlanticism

Julia Holter Loud City Song

December 11

My Morning Jacket It Still Moves

Kacey Musgraves Same Trailer Different Park

December 12

Yeah Yeah Yeahs Fever To Tell

The Knife Shaking The Habitual 

December 13

Joe Strummer And The Mescaleros Streetcore

Hookworms Pearl Mystic 

December 16

Eels Shootnanny!

Superchunk I Hate Music

December 17

Belle And Sebastian Dear Catastrophe Waitress

Albert Hammond Jr. AHJ

December 18

Twilight Singers Blackberry Belle

Shearwater Fellow Travelers

December 19

Rise Against Revolutions Per Minute

Fuck Buttons Slow Focus 

December 20

Sleepy Jackson Lovers

Lucius Wildewoman 

December 23

Mando Diao Bring ‘Em In

Speedy Ortiz Major Arcana

December 24 (Xmas Eve)

The Darkness Permission To Land

Mikal Cronin MCII

December 25 (Jesus's Birthday)

Brad Maybe’s Christmas Jams Playlist!

Bad Religion Christmas Songs

December 26 (Boxing Day)

Killing Joke Killing Joke

Boards Of Canada Tomorrow's Harvest 

December 27

The Bronx The Bronx

Janelle Monáe The Electric Lady

December 30

Postal Service Give Up

Ween Quebec

December 31 (New Year's Eve)

TBA

I don't know what I wanna do with New Year's Eve yet. Maybe something cool. Or maybe just listen to the albums I listened to on January 1.

Bonus Post! Here's what I wrote about Ween Quebec at the end of 2003!

11.05.13

On November 5th I listened to The B-52’s The B-52’s and James Blake Overgrown.

I was trying to think of what the modern day equivalent of The B-52’s would be and all I could come up with was The Dirty Projectors. The singer is a weirdo and there’re some broads in the band that sing in a glorious, yet bizarre, songbird fashion. But where The B-52’s have withstood the test of time, The Dirty Projectors are exactly what their name implies. To me, it implies a device used to show pornographic images to a group of mostly men who think it’s OK to jerk off in public. I don’t know where I’m going with that... I guess I just wanted to dump on the Projectors again. Remember this?

Good times.

You’d think The B-52's would have a proper name. At least it should be named after one of the songs or a reference from the lyrics. The B-52’s Planet Claire, or Rock Lobster. Dance This Mess Around would have been perfect. Or maybe, No One Has A Head, from "Planet Claire." But, for my money, this album should have been called The B-52’s I’m Not No Limburger. I was never a fan of the first album self-titled thing for musicians and I really hated when later albums were self-titled or if multiple albums were self-titled… with a few exceptions.

Released in 1979, this was an album that many of us got accustomed to on vinyl or cassette, so it has sides. I mention that because The B-52’s didn’t really have a whole hell of a lot to put on this record’s second half. The first side is derivative and simple, and yet it’s inspired and ground breaking. Side one of The B-52’s is the perfect example of a thing exceeding the sum of its parts. “Planet Claire,” 52 Girls,” “Dance This Mess Around,” and “Rock Lobster!” Hello!

If you have never danced drunk while singing along to one of the first four songs on this album, I’m afraid you haven’t lived your life in the proper manner. If you have never heard the first four songs on this album, then there is a 95% chance I’ll think you’re a tool… and 4% of those leftover are deaf. So, not a lot of wiggle room there.

Side two of this record has some merits, but I don’t even really like the Petula Clark cover. And I love Petula Clark! 

Which one do you think banged her?

So do Mick and Keith!

Over there in the United Kingdom they have something called The Mercury Prize. But, like shit over here it's sponsored, so it's something like Admiral Haliston's Cold Pubic Hair Wax Removal System Mercury Prize. Every year a bunch of music elitists fasten their monocles and cast ballots to name the best album of the year. Started in 1992, it was a solid alternative to the Brit Awards, their version of the Grammys, but by the late 90’s they fucked it up. Most winners are overhyped crud that nobody will give a crap about by next summer. Alt-J won last year. The fucking Klaxons beat Amy Winehouse’s Back In Black for the honor in 2007. Arguing that Winehouse didn't win one, defeats the purpose of the award, but c'mon man!

Overgrown took home the title this year and that’s the only reason I’m listening to it today. I was curious to hear what the English consider to be the best of the under crust best, the not-so-toppermost of the poppermost!  It sucks.

I guess it can’t be a coincidence, but it’s a little weird that a 25-year-old white kid from London sounds like Aaron Neville. I guess it’s not that weird, I just don’t care for it. Overall, this album sounds like James Blake's hair looks. He obviously spent a lot of time on it, but he even ripped that off... and poorly.

"Hey Paul! I reckon in the future, kids with no talent will just be ripping off our hair," opined John Lennon.

Wu-Tang Clan's RZA does a guest rap on "Take A Fall For Me" and it comes off dull and creepy. “Candle light dinners of fish n’ chips with the vinegar… with a glass of cold stout or wine or something similar,” he raps as Blake croons “He can’t marry her” from another room and then RZA is joined by a robot voice. Dull and creepy. I hadn't been that bored with a rap since that kid from The Streets "rapped" about English breakfast.

The only other thing I took away from this album is that getting laid on a rainy day isn't a good thing, or something. I dunno, maybe.

Tomorrow I listen to Blondie and Live's Ed Kowalczyk. 

11.04.13

On November 4th I listened to Depeche Mode Black Celebration and AFI Burials.

I can tell you exactly how I became a Depeche Mode fan. Early in 1987, sixteen-year-old me was up late one night watching HBO, probably looking for a passing titty, and some shitball movie called Modern Girls comes on. I watch the whole dumb thing. “But Not Tonight” was used a couple times in this titless romp and I fell in love with the song. (I tried to rewrite “fell in love with the song” a few times, but I couldn't come up with anything romantic and masculine about a crybaby song, so I'm settling with “fell in love with the song.")

I was definitely late to officially jump on the Depeche Mode wagon. Almost a full year after their fifth album dropped, I was secretly discovering their charm by listening to one song over and over on a VHS tape. Sadly, the only time I heard it regularly after that was when HBO replayed the movie. So, I recorded Modern Girls… on a VCR. Whenever I wanted to hear “But Not Tonight” I had to watch the credits of the movie. I guess I could have bought Black Celebration, but I was broke and I had a bit of a hang up on Depeche Mode. I liked “People Are People” when it became a big hit in ‘84, but when it got overplayed I tuned them out. I also tuned them out because the only people that seemed to listen to them were weird girls. And, in the spirit of honesty, teen me thought Depeche Mode were a little “faggy.” Sorry, but I can’t apologize for teen me.

Weird girls weren't Goths or Punks, but they certainly didn't fit in with the Preps, Freaks, Dorks, or Jocks either. (I was a Jock, if you were wondering. Jock is probably the hardest to believe by looking at me today.) Weird girls kinda wore a frumpy prep style mixed with a lot of black skirts and a ton of bracelets. They usually had that stupid 80’s bob haircut, they read a lot, you never really saw them playing in the sun, they always talked about traveling when they grew up, and they had an appreciation for things that most people didn't even know existed. Kinda like this chick talking to Jeanie in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off.

He's giving his eyes to who?

Weird girls also had an impeccable taste in gloomy British music. The Smiths, The Cure, Siouxsie And The Banshees… on and on. More importantly, I had recently discovered that weird girls also gave up more doubles and triples than any other team in my league. And I’m gonna brag a little here, I was in a pretty big league in high school. Feast your eyes!

I wear pink on the outside, cause pink is how I feel on the inside.

Right?

The late 80's were a fun, yet transitional period for music. The word Alternative wasn't umbrellaing all non-Mainstream genres of music. Dipshits were still throwing around the term New Wave to describe anything they didn't hear on the radio or see on MTV during normal business hours. College radio sucked, but was just starting to give birth to some future super stars! The only example I can think of right now is R.E.M.  Metal and Hip Hop were taking hold in the mainstream. Metallica and Slayer sounded just fine in between Public Enemy and 2 Live Crew. Those two styles of music blended together nicely, for awhile, and then fucked everything all up, but that doesn't happen until the turn of the century. Then you had Punk in all its forms, Indie Rock, British shit, Industrial, Gangsta Rap and whatever else anybody thought was cool because Normal people didn't know about it. Norms always had the same reaction when confronted with something new and different and that was to instantly dismiss it, then years later when it was en vogue, they were its No. 1 fan!

I definitely spread myself around in the 80's but it took work and money to get a chance to sample everything. When I dismissed something, it wasn't because I was an ignorant Norm, but because it didn't sound good to my palette. And on a shallower level, I associated certain kinds of music with certain kinds of people. Freaks listened to Metal. Stoners liked The Grateful Dead, Jocks loved their classic rock, and most girls were content to listen to Top 40 radio. Weird girls only listened to weird stuff for the sake of being weird... I thought.

Back in the late 80’s we had something called the Welfare Movie. Rundown old single theaters would show movies that been out for a couple months for $1.50. I used go to the Towne Theater with a buddy or two to meet girls. Our routine was to plop down in the middle of a good cluster of chicks and act like obnoxious douches during the movie to garner some attention… a tried and true move.  Afterwards, we’d take our time leaving the theater and whoever was still milling around outside… was interested. Then it was usually some (soda) pops at McDonald’s and if you were lucky some girl’s dad was chasing you out of their semi-furnished basement a few hours later.

Good girls let you kiss them and not much else. Bad girls took you to the aforementioned basement and always let you practice your bra unhooking skills. Sometimes they’d let you stink up a couple digits and more times than not those girls were weird girls. Freaker chicks also had looser moral values, but I wasn't attracting many of them in my Ocean Pacific t-shirts, and Bugle Boy cargo pants.

There was always a common thread among the handful or so weird girls I fooled around with during this period… Depeche Mode. They were always listening to Some Great Reward or Black Celebration. Before I had fallen in love with “But Not Tonight,” Depeche was just the voice of doughy white weird girls and I kinda had it in my mind that they were predominately a chick band. “Throw on Zamfir, for all I care,” I’d think. “Now, get your teen boobs over here!”

After I gained an appreciation for The Mode, I finally understood their value. They were greasing the wheels for me! They were doing all the heavy lifting. Up until this point in my life all I needed was the proverbial wind to get in the mood. Gimme some privacy with a girl whose bra was undone under her shirt with the chance of maybe unzipping her pants and I was a pig in poop! 

My good looks and tongue where setting the “mood!” What else did you need? Well, girls need to stimulate a whole lot more senses than a dude. Weird girls liked to get wrapped up in a blanket of songs about longing, being different, lust and passion in order to loosen up enough to allow me to savagely paw at them for an hour. I finally started to appreciate the value of that. Whatever was going in their ears, was doing a shitload more for them than my tongue and fingers, and sometimes wiener. “Do you have Black Celebration?” I’d ask in those dark basements after I knew how to set the table for heavy petting. “Well, throw it on, girl!”

My favorite weird girl was Jen. She was tall, thick, and had what she called “waitress legs.” She had a pretty face with that bobbed haircut, she watched Monty Python and The Young Ones, her cat was named Cat, she rode a very cool bike, and she loved Depeche Mode.

I don’t remember exactly how we met. She definitely wasn't a Welfare Movie pickup and I really can’t come up with the specifics of our arc in time. She either worked at Kayak for a hot minute and this story takes place before all the losing my first job/losing my virginity hijinx or we met at a house party a full year later. Let’s go with… we met at Kayak Pools sometime in May of 1987. The details don’t really matter for this story, but it just makes me wish I had chronicled my life a little better.

The extent of my relationship with Jen at this point is just talking on the phone. I still remember her phone number too! It’s 716.***.1801. That’s amazing right? I’m tempted to call and see if it’s still her family’s house.

One night while we were yammering on the horn I asked if I could tape her copy of Black Celebration. She said yes and we set up an after school hang. The next day, I picked up a blank tape and rode my bike over to her house, while carrying my duel cassette jambox. I used to kick out the jams, motherfucker!

The whole process at Jen’s was rather odd and very awkward. I wasn't allowed in the house, so I had to dub the album out on the front porch. Her parents were home and she either didn't want to go through the process of introducing me to them, or they were a couple of assholes. Her dad did come out once while I was there. He smoked a cigarette and didn't say a word. “Hey dad,” Jen offered as he lit up. He responded with nothing. Whatever dopey teen conversation we were having had come to a screeching halt and the three of us sat there like idiots while “Flys On The Windscreen” played at twice the speed. My jambox had a special feature so you could dub stuff in half the time. Yeah, that’s right! I was making copies of albums, for free, in about 20 or 30 minutes! Take that RIAA!

Dad finishes his smoke, goes inside and never even looked at me once! I quickly deduced here parents were a couple of assholes. Who does that? At the very least, if I have a 16-year-old daughter and some little dick is over the house to see her, I’m gonna make him shake my hand and tell me his stupid fucking name! “Great. Nice to meet you, Grayson,” I’ll say as I squeeze his hand into oblivion.

After the old man went back inside, Jen and I continued our dumb conversation.  We probably just goofed on people we worked with at Kayak and then I asked her if she was going to Grad Night. Every spring the local amusement park had a night where the park was open from midnight to six in the morning for graduating seniors. But, it was a giant shit-show of freshmen on up. She was going with a group of her friends and as my dub was ending we planned to meet up while there. Ferris wheel at 2 AM. I loved the simplicity of those days.

Friday night rolled around and this was my crew!

That’s the picture they took of us as we walked into the park. I had to pry open the little plastic view thingy to get the picture out. If this shitty scan from Walgreen’s was at all viewable, you’d notice my California Raisins boxer shorts… and the fury within.  From the left, that’s Bickerstaff, Judas (There’s a big story as to why I only refer to him as that.), Brian and me. Apparently, we all wore baseball caps and thought we were in the Beastie Boys.

I have no idea what all of this has to do with Depeche Mode anymore, but stick with me, because the events that followed hollowed me out and somehow made me a more tolerant person.

The next two hours are a faded memory of laughs, roller coasters and the anticipation of seeing a girl. Two O’clock rolled around, I told the boys I was off to see my weird girl and we set a place to meet back up in an hour.

I bounded for that fucking Ferris wheel. I liked Jen and in my young eyes, I was on an adventure. It was a big deal for me to be out all night at sixteen and having a 2 AM date, no less. This is the kind of shit that still pleasantly haunts me. A whiff of nighttime spring air can take me back to that night in a second.

We met with a hug and got in line for the Ferris wheel. Our fading three-beers-in-the-parking-lot buzzes fueled a pleasant conversation about our nights so far. We started to get touchier and feelier. Laughter and our first kiss washed out the world around us. This was what it all should have been about! Young lust! Pulling tongue in the middle of the night in line for a Ferris wheel! Cherished memory created!

Grad Night brought together a few thousand kids from about twenty or so high schools, and you usually ran into someone you knew around every turn. I hadn't paid too much attention to who was in line and didn't notice any familiar faces.

We were attached at the mouth the whole ride. We even got an unexpected second ride, because there was some confusion with the oncoming party and we never exited our gondola. We were attached at the mouth for the second ride too.

We exited the Ferris wheel and both wanted to get back to our friends. A couple more kisses were followed by a "see ya, later," and we were both off into the night. I felt good. I liked this weird girl. She liked the same dumb shit I did, we both had asshole parents, she was a great kisser, she smelled good, she was funny and I could ride my bike to her house. I wondered what kind of underwear she wore and if I’d get a chance to put my penis in her for the required thirty seconds it would take for me to have an orgasm. I had a crush and these were the carefree thoughts running through my head. How cute was I?

I met back up with my friends and we killed it all night. We rode all the rollercoasters, acted like assholes at the dance tent, stole a bottle of vodka from the confiscated bin at the gates, went on the water slides fully clothed and then sloshed around the park soaking wet hugging random girls until dawn. It was a perfect night of good old fashioned high school douche baggery.

I went home and slept until it was time to go to school on Monday.

Mr. Rich was the cool teacher. He had a smoking hot wife, coached the soccer team, had a Magnum P.I. mustache and was best friends with the "hip" Spanish teacher, Mr. Bonilla.  He was also cool and those in the know referred to him as Bones… a nickname Mr. Rich gave him.

I was in one of Mr. Rich’s morning Social Studies classes and Mondays usually started with a few minutes of bullshitting about everybody’s weekend. I was enjoying a story about a female classmate puking on The Viper, when Bob Noah blurted out, “sounds like Brad’s ride on the Ferris wheel.” Which was met with a large gasp from the other side of the room and a few scattered, “Oh, I heard about that.” A blank dumbfounded puss greeted every eye in the classroom as they turned to me.

“What?” I was just as curious as everyone else that hadn't heard about my ride on the Ferris wheel.

Bob had little more to offer than I had picked up some fat chick and we made out in line for the Ferris wheel. It was a rather obtuse observation that got a good laugh from the class and a couple “Ewwws” from some of the more stuck up girls in the room. 

I was suddenly on the hot seat and quickly offered, “She goes to Mercy,” as a means to smooth over any more scrutiny. Mount Mercy was a nearby all girls Catholic school that was located in a very Irish neighborhood of South Buffalo and populated by girls who were known to “put out.” It was a widely accepted fact that Mercy girls always had whiskey, condoms and fresh panties in their purse at any given time. It was customary to keep the panties of a Mount Mercy girl if you were able to get them off of her, so that's why they always needed a fresh pair. If you went to St. Francis and your glove-box wasn't filled with Mercy panties, you were doing it wrong. At any rate... 

The initial gasp that echoed through the room after my name was brought up came from a girl I barely had any dealings with in high school. I’ll call her Scoop. Scoop, had apparently been on the Ferris wheel the same time I was and after I said Jen was a Mercy girl she answered with a resounding, “that figures.”

Scoop now had the floor and everyone was curious to know if her “that figures,” meant what they thought it meant. That Scoop had more information than Bob.

This is 1980’s high school. We did a lot and we got away with a lot, but what Scoop is about to describe couldn't just be blurted out in an open classroom. Even Mr. Rich's. So, she spends the next few minutes describing how her and three of her loser friends were in the Gondola in front of us and noticed that Jen and I were messing around. Scoop claimed that while we were stuck towards the top of the ride, she could see us and spent what felt like forever trying to euphemize and pantomime the acts of what was going on inside our Gondola. It was a lot of “he was… you know” and she’d look at her boobs, and “she was… well,” and then she’d wink. Through a torturous round of Charades the class deduced that I was sucking on Jen’s tits, while she jerked me off.

How or why Scoop concocted this cockamamie story is a fucking mystery for the ages! I was definitely running my hands over Jen’s boobs above the shirt, but I wasn't nursing on them and my cock certainly didn't breach my California Raisins boxer shorts.

Scoop’s scoop turned into a pile-on of fat girl jokes, the most popular one being “what do fat chicks and Ferris wheels  have in common?” They’re fun to ride, but you don’t want your friends to see you on one.

Backed into a corner, I wasn't going to refute the titty milking/hand job accusation, but I felt I needed to clarify Jen was not fat. I threw the word thick out there, but that didn't help my cause. Jen was looking particularly Goth the evening in question and Bob suggested she looked like the resident chunky Goth in our school and that comparison sealed my fate. I had lost this one. 

A few more “jokes” made it around the room and thankfully Mr. Rich, who enjoyed the fuck out of the whole exchange, got the class in order to start some learning. I lobbed one last shot into the room, “didn't Pretty In Pink teach us anything?” Which got a solid laugh, and I would have been content to leave it on that note, but somebody added, “yeah, that you’re Ducky.” It didn't even make any sense, but it buried my line. 

Even though I was publicly shamed, I loved that the story got elevated to near legend status. By the end of the day, some people had heard I fucked a fat chick in the ass as she sat on my lap on the log flume ride. Log flume, indeed!

The part that really sucks is that I didn't call Jen after that and I genuinely liked her. I let other people’s judgments affect my life and that bothered me. I didn't come to any instant epiphanies, but I chewed on that whole experience a lot. 

A few months later I ran into Jen, and she was pleasant enough, but I could just tell she was disappointed that I blew her off. I never made any definitive statement to myself or adopted a new creed on life, but slowly I became less concerned about what people presented themselves as and more about who they were. Don't get me wrong, I didn't become a role model for peace and love, because I certainly have had my differences with many many people. After Jen, though, I gradually stopped caring about what others thought of me and who I chose to associate with, because when you boil it down, people are people. 

(I’m sorry. I tried to think of a better way to wrap this long story up, but that practically wrote itself.)

 Holy shit. I gotta write something about AFI now.

Coincidentally, I didn't become a fan of AFI until they released their fifth album too. I hadn't heard of them before 2000's The Art Of Drowning and I really took to that disc. A string of Modern Rock hits followed, "Girl's Not Grey," "Love Like Winter," "Miss Murder," I have no memory of hearing 2009's Crash Love, and here we are at album No. 9... Burials. 

It's a solid effort. I actually listened to it around ten times while writing my epic about weird girls. There is definitely some depth to Burials. "I Hope You Suffer," "A Deep Slow Panic," "17 Crimes," "Heart Stops," and "Greater Than 84" would all sound great on the radio. And "Wild" has a nice "Tokyo" by The Wombats feel to it. 

That is literally all I got. 

Tomorrow I'll listen to The B-52's and James Blake. 

11.01.13

"What are you going to wear to tomorrow's party, Lou?" asked Nico. "I'm wearin' it, stupid."

I slept late the morning we got the news that Lou Reed had passed. I didn't find out until I was dumping fried pickles and Brooklyn doucheweizen down my garbage shoot while watching football that afternoon. I instantly looked up the breaking news story online and then, like so many of us do, felt the arrogant need to get my two cents out into the world. Anything poignant or cleaver I could just say out loud would have been wasted on my then company. Now that I think about it, I didn't even say anything to my friend across the table… not a word. My precious thoughts were only meant to be read, and in the context of other brilliance like, “The person below this gives bad blow jobs.” I quietly picked up my phone and broadcast my short missive to 678 people or so, via Twitter.

I like the honesty of it. And I really loved the seven retweets and four favorites! That’s the most reaction any of my Tweets have ever got!

I liked Lou Reed. I like some of Lou’s music, certainly not all of it, but I really loved where Lou had been. He slipped into the asshole of a dirty vintage New York City and opened up all of his senses, at a time when any normal person would have shut them all down. Granted, those experiences ultimately killed him, but not until he was 71. So, thanks to Lou, we don’t have to go downtown, shoot smack, fuck some trannies, and guzzle gallons of Scotch… unless we really wanted to, because Lou has written a few songs on those activities.

I honestly do respect the kind of dick Lou was, or the kind of dick I thought he was from reading shit about him, listening to some of his more difficult records, or hearing firsthand accounts of his difficult ways.

To a youngster like me, Lou Reed was a persona first and an artist/musician second. I heard more about him than I actually heard from him.  I grew up listening to Classic Rock and the one station worth listening to always slipped “Walk On The Wild Side” in between Led Zeppelin and The Who tracks, but that was it. When I started developing my own tastes, I wasn't gonna run out and by The Velvet Underground And Nico or Lou’s Transformer when I was 14, cause I was too busy buying Dead Milkmen and Run D.M.C. albums on cassette. My first Lou Reed purchase didn't come until 1989, when I bought New York because I fell in love with “Dirty Blvd.” In my young little pea brian… Lou Reed was a weird asshole who was a million times cooler than his music. Or, so I thought.

Then I got older. I listened to and decided what I was gonna like and what I wasn't gonna like from Lou’s catalog. I got jobs in radio, met and interviewed Rock Stars and became numb to the whole “persona” thing. I had seen behind the curtain and musicians were either good or bad, cool or cocks. I was no longer interested in whatever bullshit “artists” were pushing to move their “image” in whatever direction they were looking to blow it. Perfectly demonstrated by Alice Cooper, Meatloaf and the little piece of ass that played Wendy in the Porky's movies in this wonderful clip from the movie Roadie:

Alice Cooper doesn't want to feed anybody’s Frankenstein or act like anything other than himself offstage… unless you make him. Lou Reed was some weird version of Lou Reed all the time. That’s something that always bothered me about Joe Strummer too. Was there a Lou Reed, who would wake up on Saturday morning, throw on jeans and a t-shirt, run to the hardware store, pick up that thing to fix the toilet, be pleasant to the cashier, shoot the shit with a fan on the corner, go home, fix the toilet, and then watch Caddyshack on HBO? I dunno, maybe. Do I want that? No. Was there ten different Lou Reed personalities and nine were kinda douchey? Mos def. Do I want that? Yeah, I guess so.

I didn't think it was very odd that the L.A. Times began a memorial for Lou, with this quote from Lester Bangs:

“Lou Reed is the guy that gave dignity and poetry and rock 'n' roll to smack, speed, homosexuality, sadomasochism, murder, misogyny, stumblebum passivity, and suicide, and then proceeded to belie all his achievements and return to the mire by turning the whole thing into a monumental joke ...,"

Initially, I thought that sentence was kind of harsh, but as I read and re-read some of Bangs’ accounts of Lou, it’s pretty much the nicest thing anybody could have said about him, because Bangs understood him. I certainly didn't understand Lou or have a fucking inkling of where he was coming from.

Leslie Fram, a program director I used to work for, had a story of seeing Lou perform at a benefit show or as part of someone else’s set, I can’t remember the details of the show, but what I do remember was her saying that Lou was acting like a “grumpy old man” and spent a chunk of his time on stage “lecturing the audience.” Classic Lou! The audience didn't know how to enjoy live music and he needed to correct them. I wish I was there.

I had sat in a room while Damon Albarn was telling the story of Lou Reed recording a track for Gorrillaz. When Albarn finished, I said, “Sounds like he was kind of an asshole.” He shot me a weird, yet thoughtful look and replied, “No, I didn’t say that… you did.” The four of us in the room shared one of those little hiccup type laughs. Not a full chuckle, but a very minimalist humorous reaction to acknowledge Albarn’s point. He wasn't saying anything bad about Lou, he just relayed an experience exactly how it happened… and whatever anyone thought after they heard it, was their opinion.

Going back to my Tweet, that’s what my opinion of Lou Reed is… he was a dick. But, I respected that dick. I only wish I had met him and he was awful to me, just once. Then I’d have had a better story for this thing that I just wrote.

This is probably the hippest collection of Oldies on the planet. The Velvet Underground lyrically dug around in the muck, but with a rather tame Peter, Paul & Mary play a biker bar panache. 

I have mixed feelings about Nico. I simultaneously want to punch her and/or gently run my hands along her soft milky skin for hours.

I really don’t know when I should be listening to The Velvet Underground. It doesn't fit my day-to-day lifestyle, but it needs a place in there somewhere. I guess the perfect place for this band would be:

1. Dive bars after two in the morning.

 2. Smelly thrift shops where the girl behind the counter has a busted face, a really nice skinny body, and a two dollar fashion sense. She’d be overly nice, in an annoying way, forcing me to debate whether or not I’d bang her, if given the chance. Then at the register I’d finally get the chance to give her a really solid once over and the answer is a reluctant “yeah, but I’m not gonna tell anyone for a long time, cause that would give me a chance to embellish the story and make it sound really better than just sad sex with an ugly skinny mushy hippie.” (These are the conversations I have in my head most of the day.)

3. On an infinite loop at Patti Smith’s house. (Patti’s house is very similar to the thrift shop scenario.)

Having said all that, The Velvet Underground is so fucking cool to listen to. I actually felt about 75% cooler while I was listening. Secretly hoping somebody really cool would walk into the room and say something like, “Velvet Underground. Nice. I’ll suck your dick for 12 dollars.” And I’d have to refuse the offer because I only have a twenty on me, and somebody sucking you off for a bump isn't gonna make change… believe me. I guess that’s the point of The Velvet Underground, drug addicts charge weird amounts of money for blowjobs. Oh, and selling out IS for everyone. (See; “Who Loves The Sun”) Unless, I totally missed the point of what The Velvet Underground was trying to do.

“She’s busy sucking on my ding-dong.” – “Sister Ray,” by The Velvet Underground – 1968.

“Everything is jokes to this bibulous bozo; he really makes a point of havin' some fun!” – Lester Bangs on Lou Reed – 1973 

"I would like to live to a ripe old age and raise watermelons in Wyoming." – Lou Reed  – 1973

“Lou Reed's finally got a chance at real sustained stardom, and he is blowing it. He's still riding on the legend now, but people are going to get tired damn fast of a legend who slunks out with a bunch of blobs behind him, sings his songs as if he's falling asleep, forgets the words half the time, stands as still as if he's embalmed except for remembering every five minutes or so to wiggle his ass or wave his hand whether it's really the time to do it or not. His whole career at this point is like welching out on a bet.” – Lester Bangs on Lou Reed – 1973

November Playlist - 2013 The Year Of Music

"I hear Brad Maybe is a real dick," said Patti. "Yeah, so am I," sighed Lou.

Only two more months left before we close the books on 2013 – The Year Of Music!

The whole endeavor turned out to be way too ambitious for me. Listening to and trying to write about three different albums a day for a whole year was uncharacteristically a bite larger than I could chew. So, I shrunk it down to two a day with weekends off. One “classic” album and one new album and we're still pushing forward (back). Get it? 

Even with going down to two albums and not writing anything for most days, I definitely did what I initially set out to do. Listen to a lot and write a lot. When I go back and re-read what I was writing in January as compared to what I was writing towards the end, when the writing started to trail off... I'd say I'm writing as good as a high school junior now!

I am going to try and do write ups for November, in real-time, and perhaps fill in some blanks I missed along the way. I actually miss writing. It's work, and I suck at it, but it's somehow "rewarding." 

Last month I noticed the first glaring omission of the year… The Ramones! I dunno how I missed those guys, but I did. So, I set out to find some more omissions, and I definitely feel like I’m missing a whole shitload more. The B-52’s, Blondie, Concrete Blonde, Echo & The Bunnymen, The Charlatans UK, and Lou Reed all get their first spins this year.

Sorry, Lou. All you had to do was die before I remembered that I forgot to spend some time with your music this year. I’ll start November on what looks to be a shitty rainy fall Friday with three Velvet Underground records and Lou will be back on Thanksgiving. I’ll eat some Turkey to New York and a classic collection from Mr. Woody Guthrie. This land was made for you and me!

I’m gonna put my unedited master list of the year at the bottom… just so you can see what’s been listened to so far. Notice anything missing? Let me know.

Don’t choke on it. 

November 1

The Velvet Underground – The Velvet Underground & Nico

The Velvet Underground – White Light White Heat

The Velvet Underground – Loaded

November 4

Depeche Mode – Black Celebration

AFI – Burials 

November 5

The B-52’s – The B-52’s

James Blake – Overgrown

November 6

Blondie – Parallel Lines

Ed Kowalczyk – The Flood And The Mercy

November 7

The Smiths – Meat Is Murder

Unknown Mortal Orchestra – Blue Record (EP)

November 8

The Wonderstuff – The Eight Legged Groove Machine

Eminem – The Marshall Mathers LP 2

November 11

Concrete Blonde – Bloodletting

The Fratellis – We Need Medicine

November 12

The Sundays – Reading, Writing, and Arithmetic

Luscious Jackson – Magic Hour

November 13

Sisters Of Mercy – Floodland

Cage The Elephant – Melophobia

November 14

Ned’s Atomic Dustbin – God Fodder

Dale Earnhardt Jr. Jr. – The Speed Of Things

November 15

A Tribe Called Quest – Midnight Marauders

Hellogoodbye – Everything Is Debatable

November 18

Echo & The Bunnymen – Echo & The Bunnymen

White Denim – Corsicana Lemonade

November 19

The Charlatans UK – Some Friendly

Swearin’ – Surfing Strange

November 20

Beastie Boys – Ill Communication (Mike D’s Birthday!)

The Sounds – Weekend 

November 21

Rage Against The Machine – Evil Empire

M.I.A. – Matangi

November 22

Big Audio Dynamite – This Is Big Audio Dynamite

Upset – She’s Gone

November 25

Fountains Of Wayne – Fountains Of Wayne

The State Champs – The Finer Things

November 26

808 State – ex:el

Four Tet – Beautiful Rewind

November 27

The Beatles – Abbey Road

Norah Jones & Billie Joe Armstrong – Foreverly

November 28

Woody Guthrie – The Asch Recordings Vol. 1

Lou Reed – New York

November 29

Sinead 0’Connor – The Lion And The Cobra

Avril Lavigne – Avril Lavigne

The Unedited Master List Of All Albums Listened To In 2013!

311 – 311 - Apr

311 – Transistor - Apr

A Tribe Called Quest – The Low End Theory – Feb

A$AP Rocky – Long.Live.A$AP– Feb

AC/DC – High Voltage - Jan

AC/DC – Let There Be Rock – Oct

AC/DC Dirty Deeds Done Dirty Cheap - Aug

Adam Ant - Adam Ant Is The Blueblack Hussar In Marrying The Gunner's– Feb

Adicts – All The Young Droogs - Jan

Afghan Whigs – Black Love

Afghan Whigs – Gentleman - Mar

Alabama Shakes – Boys &Girls - Mar

Alanis Morissette – Jagged Little Pill - Mar

Alice Cooper – Welcome To My Nightmare - Jan

Alice In Chains – Dirt - Mar

Alice In Chains – The Devil Put Dinosaurs Here – June

Alkaline Trio – My Shame Is True - Apr

Alt-J – An Awesome Wave– Feb

And You Will Know Us By The Trail Of Dead – Lost Songs - Mar

Ani Difranco – Not A Pretty Girl - Apr

Appleseed Cast – Illumination Ritual

Arcade Fire – Reflektor – Oct

Arctic Monkeys – AM – Oct

Aretha Franklin – I Never Loved A Man The Way I Love You– Feb

Atlas Genius – When It WaNow - mar

Atoms For Peace – Amok  - Mar

Avenged Sevenfold Hail To The King  – Sept

Bad Religion – Stranger Than Fiction - Apr

Bad Religion – True North– Feb

Barry White – Can’t Get Enough– Feb

Bastille Bad Blood - Aug

Bat For Lashes – The Haunted Man– Feb

Beach Boys – Pet Sonds –Jan

Beach House – Bloom - Jan

Beady Eye – BE – June

Beastie Boys – CheckYurHead - Mar

Beastie Boys – Paul’s Boutique– Feb

Beastie Boys- License To Ill - Jan

Beatles – Magical Mystery Tour - Jan

Beatles – Rubber Soul– Feb

Beatles – Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band – Oct

Beatles – The White Album – Oct

Beatles - Revolver - Aug

Beck – Mellow Gold– Feb

Beck – Odelay - Mar

Belle & Sebastian – If You’re Feeling Sinister - Apr

Belle & Sebastian – The Boy With The Arab Strap - Apr

Belle & Sebastian – Write About Love - Apr

Best Coast – Fade Away – Oct

Biffy Clyro – Opposites– Feb

Big D And The Kids Table – For The Damned, The Dumb & The Delirious - Apr

Big Pink – Future This - Jan

Bjork – Debut - Apr

Bjork – Post - Apr

Black Angels – Indigo Meadow - Apr

Black Joe Lewis Electric Slave   – Sept

Black Rebel Motorcycle Club – SpecterAtFeast - Mar

Black Sabbath – Black Sabbath - Jan

Black Sabbath 13 - Aug

Black Sabbath Paranoid - Aug

Blur – Leisure - Jan

Blur – The Great Escape - Mar

Bob Dylan – The Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan - Jan

Bob Marley – Catch A Fire– Feb

Bob Marley – Exodus– Feb

Bob Marley – Soul Rebels– Feb

Body Count – Body Count– Feb

Boston Boston - Aug

Breeders – Pod - Apr

Bronx – The Bronx IV - Apr

Bruce Springsteen And The E Street Band – Greetings From Asbury Park, NJ - Jan

Bruce Springsteen The Rising – Sept

Bruno Mars – UnorthodoxJuke - Mar

Buffalo Tom – Big Red Letter  - Mar

Buffalo Tom – Birdbrain - Jan

Buffalo Tom – Let Me Come Over– Feb

Bush – Sixteen Stone - Apr

Butthole Surfers – Locust Abortion Technician - Jan

Cake – Fashion Nugget - Mar

California X – California X – June

Camera Obscura Desire Lines - Aug

Capital Cities In A Tidal Wave Of Mystery   – Sept

Captain Beefheart – Trout Mask Replica – June

Carly Rae Jepsen – Kiss - Jan

Cat Power – Sun - Jan

Catherine Wheel – Chrome - Mar

Catherine Wheel – Ferment - Apr

Cheap Trick at Budokan – Sept

Chemical Brothers – Dig Your Own Hole - Apr

Chunk! No, Captain Chunk – Pardon My French – June

Chvrches – The Bones Of What You Believe – Oct

Clash – Give ‘Em Enough Rope– Feb

Clash – London Calling – June

Clash – Sandinista – Oct

Clash – The Clash - Jan

Clinic – Free Reign  - Apr

Cloud Nothings – Attack On Memory - Jan

Clutch – Earth Rocker - Apr

Cocteau Twins – Heaven Or Las Vegas - Apr

Courteeners – Anna– Feb

Cracker – Cracker - Mar

Cranberries – Everybody Else Is Doing It - Mar

Creed – My Own Prison - Mar

Creedence Clearwater Revival Green River - Aug

Cribs – Payola  - Mar

Cure – Seventeen Seconds– Feb

Cure – Three Imaginary Boys - Jan

Curtis Mayfield – Curtis– Feb

Cypress Hill – Cyrpess Hill– Feb

Daft Punk Random – Access Memories  – June

David Bowie – The Man Who Sold The World - Jan

David Bowie – The Next Day - Mar

De La Soul – Three Feet High And Rising– Feb

Dead Milkmen – Big Lizard In My Backyard - Jan

Deerhunter – Monomania – June

Deertick – Negativity – Oct

Def Leppard – Pyromania  Jan

Defones – Adrenaline– Feb

Deftones – Koi No Yokan - Jan

Depeche Mode – Speak & Spell - Jan

Depeche Mode – Violator - Apr

Depeche Mode 101 – Sept

Depheche Mode - Delta Machine - Apr

Diarrhea Planet I'm Rich Beyond Your Wildest Dreams   – Sept

Dino Jr – You’re Living All Over Me - Jan

Dinosaur Jr. – Green Mind - Mar

Dinosaur Jr. – I Bet On Sky - Mar

Dinosaur Jr. – Without A Sound - Mar

Dirty Projectors – Swing Lo Magellan– Feb

Dismemberment Plan – Uncanney Valley – Oct

Django Django – DjangoDjang - Mar

Doors – Strange Days– Feb

Doors – The Doors - Jan

Doors Waiting For The Sun - Aug

Dr. Dre – The Chronic - Apr

Dropkick Murphy’s – Signed And Sealed In Blood - Mar

Dukes Of Stratosphere – Psonic Psunspot – June

Duran Duran – Rio – June

Dutch Uncles – Out Of Touch, InWild - Mar

Eels – Beautiful Freak - Mar

Eels – Wonderful Glorious - Mar

Eleanor Friedberger – Personal Record – June

Elliot Smith – XO - Apr

Elton John – Goodbye Yellow Brick Road – June

Elvis Costello – My Aim Is True - Jan

Elvis Costello And The Roots Wise Up Ghost – Sept

Elvis Presley Aloha From Hawaii  – Sept

Empire Of The Sun – Ice On The Dune – June

EPMD – Strictly Business - Jan

Eric B. & Rakim – Paid In Full– Feb

Face To Face – Face To Face - Apr

Face To Face – Three Chords And A Half Truth - Apr

Failure – Fantastic Planet - Apr

Faith No More – Angel Dust - Mar

Faith No More – The Real Tng - Mar

Fall Out Boy – Save Rock And Roll - Apr

Fat Boys – Fat Boys– Feb

Filter The Sun Comes Out Tonight - Aug

Fiona Apple – The Idler Wheel Is Wiser Cause Fiona Is A Fucking Douche - Jan

Flaming Lips – The Terror - Apr

Fleetwood Mac – Fleetw Mac 75 - Jan

Fleetwood Mac – Tusk – Oct

Fleetwood Mac Rumours - Aug

Foals – Holy Fire - Mar

Foo Fighters – Foo Fighters - Mar

Foo Fighters – The Colour And Shape - Mar

Foo Fighters – There Is Nothing Left To Lose – Oct

Foo Fighters – Wasting Light - Mar

Foxygen – We Are The 21 st Century Ambassadors Of Peace And Magic– Feb

Frank Black – Frank Black - Apr

Frank Ocean – Channel Orange - Jan

Frank Turner Tape Deck Heart – Sept

Frank Zappa – The Mother’s Of Invention – Freak Out! - Jan

Franz Ferdinand Right Thoughts, Right Words, Right Action - Aug

Free Energy – Love Sign - Mar

Frightened Rabbit Pedestrian Verse - Aug

Fuel – Sunburn - Apr

Fugazi – In On The Kill Taker - Apr

Fugazi – Steady Diet Of Nothing - Jan

FUN! – Sum Nites– Feb

Garbage – Garbage - Mar

Genesis – Selling England By The Pound - Jan

Genesis …And Then There Were Three… - Aug

Geto Boys – We Can’t Be Stopped– Feb

Goo Goo Dolls – Hold Me Up - Apr

Goo Goo Dolls – Superstar Car Wash - Apr

Goo Goo Dolls Magnetic - Aug

Grand Funk Railroad Closer To Home - Aug

Green Day – Dos - Jan

Green Day – Tres - Jan

Green Day – Uno - Jan

Grimes – Visions - Jan

Guess Who American Woman - Aug

Guided By Voices – Bee Thousand - Apr

Guns N’ Roses – Use Your Illusion I - Apr

Guns N’ Roses – Use Your Illusion II - Apr

Haim – Days Are Gone – Oct

Happy Mondays – Pills Thrills And Bellyaches - Apr

Helmet – Meantime – June

Hives – Lex Hives - Jan

Hole – Live Through This - Mar

Hollerado – White Paint - Mar

How To Destroy Angels – WelcmeOblvin - Mar

Howler – America Give Up - Jan

Husker Du – Everything Falls Apart - Jan

Hüsker Dü – Flip Your Wig – June

Hüsker Dü – Zen Arcade– Feb

I Am Kloot – Let It All In - Apr

IAMDYNAMITE – SUPERMEGAFANC - Mar

Ice Cube – Amerikkka’s Most Wanted– Feb

Ice Cube – Predator - Apr

Iceage You’re Nothing - Aug

Icon For Hire – Icon For Hire – Oct

Iron Maiden The Number Of The Beast - Aug

Jack White – Blunderbuss– Feb

Jagwar Ma Howlin'  – Sept

Jake Bugg – Jake Bugg– Feb

James Brown – Live At The Apollo– Feb

Jane’s Addiction – Nothing’s Shocking - Jan

Jane’s Addiction – Ritual De Lo Habitual - Mar

Jane's Addiction XXX – Sept

Janis Joplin – Big Brother And The Holding Company - Jan

Japandroids – Celebration Rock - Jan

Jawbox – For Your Own Special Sweetheart - Apr

Jawbreaker – Dear You - Apr

Jay Z – Vol 2… Hard Knock Life– Feb

Jay Z - Magna Carta… Holy Grail - Aug

Jeff Buckley – Grace - Apr

Jesus And Mary Chain – Darklands – Oct

Jesus And Mary Chain – Psychocandy - Jan

Jimi Hendrix – Are You Experienced - Jan

Jimi Hendrix – Axis: Bold As Love  – Feb

Jimi Hendrix Experience Electric Ladyland - Aug

Jimi Hendrix Live At Monterey  – Sept

Jimmy Cliff – The Harder They Come– Feb

Jimmy Eat – World Damage – June

Jimmy Eat World – Static - Apr

John Fogerty Wrote A Song For Everyone - Aug

John Grant – Pale Green Ghosts – June

Johnny Cash At Folsom Prison – Sept

Johnny Marr – The Messenger - Mar

Joy Formidable – Wolf’s Law– Feb

Kanye “Fish Dicks” West Yeezus - Aug

Kid Cudi – Indicud - Apr

Killers – Battle Born– Feb

Kings Of Leon Mechanical Bull  – Sept

Kinks – The Kinks - Jan

Kinks Kinda Kinks - Aug

Kiss – Destroyer - Jan

Kiss Alive! – Sept

KLF – The White Room - Apr

Korn – Follow The Leader - Apr

Kurt Vile – Wakin On A Pretty Daze – June

Lauryn Hill – The Miseducation Of Lauryn Hill– Feb

Led  Zeppelin – III – June

Led Zeppelin – Houses Of The Holy – Oct

Led Zeppelin - I - Jan

Led Zeppelin – II– Feb

Led Zeppelin IV - Aug

Lemonheads – It’s A Shame About Ray - Mar

Lenny Kravitz – Mama Said - Apr

Limp Bizkit – Significant Other - Apr

Live – Mental Jewelry -Mar

Live – Throwing Copper - Apr

Living Colour – Vivid– Feb

Liz Phair – Exile In Guyville - Jan

Liz Phair – Whip Smart -Mar

LL Cool Jay – Radio– Feb

Lorde Pure Heroine – Sept

Maccabees – Given To The Wild - Jan

Mark Lanegan Band – Blues Funral - Jan

Mars Volta – Noctourniquet - Jan

Marvin Gaye – Let’s Get It On– Feb

Matthew Good – Arrows Of Desire – Oct

Matthew Sweet – Girlfriend -Mar

Mavericks In Time (A pick from Barrie's Mom.) – Sept

Mazzy Star – Seasons Of Your Day – Oct

MC5 - Kick Out The Jams – Sept

Men – New Moon - Apr

Mercury Rev – Yerself Is Steam - Apr

Metallica – Kill ‘Em All - Jan

Metallica – Metallica (The Black Album)- Mar

Metric – Synthetica– Feb

Metz - Metz - Jan

MGMT MGMT   – Sept

Michael Jackson – Off The Wall– Feb

Michael Jackson – Thriller– Feb

Mighty Mighty Bosstones – Don’t Know How To Party - Apr

Miles Davis – Bitches Brew – Feb

Ministry – The Land Of Rape And Honey - Jan

Ministry Enjoy The Quiet: Live At Wacken 2012  – Sept

Molly Ringwald – Except Sometimes - Apr

Monster Magnet – Dopes To Infinity – Oct

Monster Magnet – Last Patrol – Oct

Morrissey – Your Arsenal - Apr

Mos Def – Black On Both Sides– Feb

Mudhoney – Every Good Boy Deserves Fudge - Apr

Mudhoney – Vanishing Point - Apr

Muse – 2nd Law - Jan

My Bloody Valentine – Loveless– Feb

My Bloody Valentine – MBV -Mar

My Chemical Romance – Conventional Weapons - Apr

N.W.A – Straight Outta Compton– Feb

Nas – Illmatic– Feb

National – Trouble Will Find Me – June

Neil Young Harvest - Aug

Neko Case – The Worse Things Get… – Oct

Neutral Milk Hotel – In The Aeroplane Over The Sea– Feb

New Order – Movement - Jan

Nick Cave And The BadSeeds – Push Sky Away -Mar

NIN – Pretty Hate Machine - Jan

Nine Black Alps – Sirens - Apr

Nine Inch Nails – Broken (EP) - Mar

Nine Inch Nails – The Downward Spiral  - Mar

Nine Inch Nails Hesitation Marks – Sept

Nirvana – Bleach - Jan

Nirvana – In Utero - Mar

Nirvana – Nevermind - Mar

No Age An Object   – Sept

NOFX – Punk In Drublic - Apr

Notorious B.I.G. – Life After Death - Apr

Oasis – (What’s The StoryMorning Glory - Mar

Oasis – Definitely Mabe– Feb

Oasis – The Masterplan - Apr

Okkervil River The Silver Gymnasium - Aug

Ol’ Dirty Bastard – Return To The 36 Chambers - Apr

Orb – The Orb’s Adventures Beyond The Ultraworld - Apr

Orb – U.F.Orb  - Apr

Our Lady Peace – Clumsy – Oct

Our Lady Peace – Naveed - Mar

Palma Violets – 180 - Apr

Palms Palms - Aug

Parliment P-Funk Earth Tour – Sept

Passion Pit – Gossamer - Jan

Patti Smith – Horses - Jan

Pavement – Crooked Rain Crooked Rain - Apr

Pavement – Slanted And Enhanted - Jan

Pearl Jam – Lightning Bolt – Oct

Pearl Jam – Ten - Mar

Pearl Jam – Vitalogy – Oct

Pearl Jam – Vs - Mar

Pearl Jam 8/29/00 - Boston, Massachusetts (Bootleg) – Sept

Peter Frampton Frampton Comes Alive! – Sept

Phoenix – Bankrupt! - Apr

Phosphorescent Muchacho - Aug

Pink Floyd – Meddle - Jan

Pink Floyd Wish You Were Here - Aug

Pixies – Bossanova - Mar

Pixies – Doolittle - Jan

PJ Harvey – Rid Of Me - Apr

Police - Outlandos d'Amour- Jan

Police – Reggatta de Blanc – Oct

Polyphonic Spree Yes, It’s True - Aug

Portishead – Dummy - Mar

Portishead Roseland NYC Live  – Sept

Portugal The Man – Evil Friends – June

Portugal, The Man Evil Friends - Aug

Poster Children – Daisy Chain Reaction - Apr

Primal Scream – More Light – June

Primus – Frizzle Fry- Jan

Primus – Pork Soda - Mar

Primus – Sailing The Seas Of Cheese - Mar

Prince – Puprle Rain– Feb

Public Enemy – It Takes A Nation Of Millions To Hold Us Back– Feb

Public Enemy – Yo! Bum Rush The Show - Jan

Public Image Limited – Album– Feb

Pure Love – Anthems– Feb

Puscifer – Donkey Punch Night - Mar

Queen – Queen - Jan

Queen II - Aug

Queen Live At Wembley Stadium  – Sept

Queens Of The Stone Age – Like Clockwork – June

Queens Of The Stone Age – Queens Of The Stone Age – June

Queens Of The Stone Age – Rated R – Oct

Quicksand – Slip - Apr

R.E.M. – Automatic For People - Mar

R.E.M. – Monster - Mar

R.E.M. – Mrmr - Jan

R.E.M. – Out Of Time - Mar

R.E.M. – Reckoning– Feb

Radiohead – Kid A – Oct

Radiohead – OK Computer - Mar

Radiohead – Pablo Honey - Mar

Radiohead - Some Bootleg From Toronto I Have – Sept

Radiohead – The Bends– Feb

Radiohead – The King Limbs - Mar

Rage Against The Machine – Rage Against The Machine - Mar

Ramones – Leave Home – Oct

Ramones – Ramones – Oct

Rancid – And Out Come The Wolves  - Mar

Randy Newman – Trouble In Paradise – June

Red Hot Chili Peppers – Blood Sugar Sex Magic - Mar

Reel Big Fish – Turn The Radio Off! - Apr

Refused – The Shape Of Punk To Come - Apr

Replacements – Hootenanny– Feb

Replacements – Let It Be – June

Replacements – Sorry Ma, I Forgot To Take Out The Trash - Jan

Rev. Al Green – Let’s Stay Together– Feb

Richard Ashcroft – United NationsSound - Mar

Ride – Nowhere - Apr

Rod Stewart – Every Picture Tells A Story – June

Rod Stewart – Time – June

Rolling Stones – Beggars Banquet– Feb

Rolling Stones – Sticky Fingers – Oct

Rolling Stones – The Rolling Stones - Jan

Rolling Stones Get Your Ya-Ya's Out! – Sept

Rolling Stones Let It Bleed - Aug

Roots – Things Fall Apart– Feb

Roots The Roots Come Alive! – Sept

Run – D.M.C. – Run-D.M.C. - Jan

Run D.M.C. – King Of Rock– Feb

Rush – 2112 – Oct

Rush – Rush - Jan

Rush Fly By Night - Aug

Sam & Dave – Soul Men– Feb

Samiam – You Are Freaking Me Out - Apr

Savages – Silence Yourself – June

Sex Pistols – Never Mind The Bollocks, Here’s The Sex Pistols - Jan

Shout Out Louds – Optica - Mar

Silversun Pickups – Neck Of The Woods - Jan

Simon & Garfunkel The Concert In Central Park – Sept

Slayer – Reign In Blood - Jan

Slayer – Seasons In The Abyss – June

Sleigh Bells – Bitter Rivals – Oct

Sly And The Family Stone – Stand! – Feb

Smashing Pumpkins – Siamese Dreams - Mar

Smashing Pumpkins Mellon -Mar

Smith Westerns Soft Will - Aug

Smiths – The Smiths - Jan

Snoop Lion – Reincarnated - Apr

Sonic Youth – EVOL - Jan

Sonic Youth – Goo - Mar

Soundgarden – Badmotorfinger - Mar

Soundgarden – King Animal - Jan

Soundgarden – Louder Than Love– Feb

Specials – The Specials – June

Spiratualized – Sweet Heart Sweet Light– Feb

Spiritualized – Lazer Guided Melodies -Mar

Stereophonics – Graffiti On The Train - Apr

Stevie Wonder – Songs In The Key Of Life– Feb

Sting – The Last Ship – Oct

Stone Rose – The Stone Roses– Feb

Stone Roses – Second Coming - Apr

Stone Temple Pilots – Core - Mar

Stooges – The Stooges - Jan

Strokes – Comedown Machine - Apr

Strokes – The Strokes – Oct

Strypes Snapshot   – Sept

Sublime – Sublime - Mar

Suede – Bloodsports - Apr

Sugar – Copper Blue– Feb

Sunny Day Real Estate – Diary - Apr

Superchunk – Here’s Where The Strings Come In - Apr

Supertramp – Breakfast In America – Oct

Surfer Blood Pythons - Aug

Swans – Seer– Feb

Swearin’ – Swearin’ - Jan

Swim Deep Where The Heaven Are We - Aug

System Of A Down – Toxicity – Oct

Taddy Porter – Stay Golden – June

Talking Heads - 77 - Jan

Talking Heads –More Songs About Buildings And Food– Feb

Talking Heads Stop Making Sense – Sept

Tame Impala – Lonerism - Jan

Teenage Fanclub – Bandwagonesque– Feb

Tegan And Sara – Heartthrob– Feb

The The – Dusk - Mar

Thermals Desperate Ground - Aug

They Might Be Giants – They Might Be Giants– Feb

Thin Lizzy – Jailbreak - Mar

Thin Lizzy Bad Reputation - Aug

Thin Lizzy Live And Dangerous – Sept

Third Eye Blind – Third Eye Bli - Mar

Throbbing Gristle – 20 Jazz Funk Greats – June

Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers You’re Gonna Get It! - Aug

Tom Petty And The Heartbreakers – Damn The Torpedoes – Oct

Tom Petty And The Heartbreakers – Tom Petty And The Heartbreakers - Jan

Tom Waits – Rain Dogs – June

Tomahawk – Oddfellows - Mar

Tool – Ænima – Oct

Tool - Undertow - Jan

Tragically Hip – Day For Night - Mar

Tragically Hip Live Between Us  – Sept

Tribes – Baby– Feb

Tribes – Wish To Scream – June

Tubes – The Tubes – June

TV On The Radio – Desperate Youth, Blood Thirsty Babes

Two Door Cinema Club – Beacon - Jan

Tyler, The Creator – Wolf - Apr

U2 – Achtung Baby - Mar

U2 – Boy - Jan

U2 – October – Oct

Unknown Mortal Orchestra – II - Mar

Vaccines – Come Of Age - Jan

Vaccines – What Did You Expect From The Vaccines– Feb

Vampire Weekend – Contra – June

Vampire Weekend – Modern Vampires Of The City – June

Van Halen – II – June

Van Halen – Van Halen - Jan

Van Halen Women And Children First - Aug

Veils – Time Stays, We Go - Apr

Velvet Underground – The Velvet Underground & Nico - Jan

Veronica Falls – Waiting For Something To Happen - Apr

Verve – A Northern Soul - Mar

Verve – Urban Hymns - Mar

Virginmarys – King Of Conflict - Apr

Washed Out – Paracosm – Oct

Ween – Pure Guava - Mar

Weezer – Weezer (Blue) - Mar

Weird Al Yankovic – Dare To Be Stupid! – June

Who – My Generation- Jan

Who – Quadrophenia – Oct

Who Who’s Next? - Aug

Wilco – Being There - Mar

World Party – Goodbye Jumbo - Mar

Wu-Tang Clan – Enter The Wu-Tng– Feb

xx – Coexist - Jan

Yeah Yeah Yeahs – Mosquito - Apr

Young Galaxy – Ultramarine - Apr

Yuck – Glow And Behold – Oct

Yuck – Yuck– Feb