Friday, April 5, 2013

4.1.13

On April 1st I listened to Superchunk Here’s Where The Strings Come In, Guided By Voices Bee Thousand, and The Men New Moon.

Back in my day, if you liked Indie Rock each band had an invisible line drawn in their sands of coolness. I’m sure this still applies today but a lot of grey areas probably muck it all up. Before the internet and the complete dissolution of the Rock caste system, it was pretty easy to see where the line was drawn.

Take the great Dinosaur Jr. It’s easy to find their line. It starts at their album Green Mind because it came out on Warner Bros. and everything before that was on an independent record label. So, in the 90’s I’d take shit for liking Green Mind, while the Indie Rock “purists,” would say things like, “I only like Bug and You’re Living All Over Me because those are SST records. Everything else sucks.” And that was pretty much that. No point in even engaging a dickhole like that.


I love Superchunk, but I didn’t start listening to them until they released Here’s Where The Strings Come In was released. They have always been fiercely independent. They put out two albums with Matador records, and then started their own Indie label. Merge records has become a powerhouse. It’s the home of those hosers everybody fawns all over, Arcade Fire. So, you’d think that there wouldn't be a line for them, but there was… at least in the mid-90’s.

Coincidentally, Superchunk released their first album the month I started working in college radio, January 1990, and would put out two more albums before I graduated. I played a few songs here and there, I was exposed to them, for sure, but I didn't really connect with their singer’s voice. I have since gone back and spent many hours with all their albums, and consider them one of my all-time favorite bands.

But, for some reason Here’s Where The Strings Come In was considered too commercial by some Indie d-bags. I remember getting guff from the local record store clerk when I bought it. “Oh, did you see their video on 120 Minutes this week?” he said with a snide little smirk. “Yeah! I did! Here’s my thirteen bucks! Go fuck yourself!” He replied with, “I’m spinning at the Old Pink tomorrow night, you stopping in?” “Yeah, see you there,” the guy was actually a friend of mine. Really though? 120 Minutes played their video and somehow they lost all their inherent coolness?

It didn't end there. The their-first-couple-albums-were-better phenomenon also came into play.

You have to understand that I based my life on what I considered “good” music, surrounded myself with people that followed the same philosophy and hung in places where The Clash and The Replacements were king and a James Brown song was coming up next on the jukebox. So, I was talking about music almost as much as I was listening to it. 

I’d be listening to Here’s Where The Strings Come In in my car and a friend would say, “No Pocky For Kitty is such a better record.” I asked someone in a bar what album “Slack Motherfucker,” an earlier song, was on and was treated to a five minute monologue about how it’s from Tossing Seeds which isn't really a proper album, and that I probably “ wouldn't get it.” 

When I flat out ignored Superchunk, nobody tried to convert me, now that I was opening up to them… I was doing it wrong. Every other album they put out was better for some reason! Back in the 90’s, Indie snobs sure liked to piss on everyone’s parade with examples of how they were cooler because they owned and “liked” albums you never heard of or haven't heard yet. I do respect that, but it sucks when you’re on the receiving end of it. Do the kids still do that?

Just to put it into perspective, if you were to ask 10,000 random people between the ages of 18 and 34, in 1995, who is Superchunk, you’d be lucky if any of them said that guy from The Goonies.

Here’s Where The Strings Come In, is my favorite album from Superchunk. It’s perfect, in that I can listen to all of it and love the whole thing. Yeah, it’s a little whiney! Sure, some of the songs sound very similar to each other. But, it speaks to me! 

Released just a month before Oasis(What’s The Story) Morning Glory?, Here’s Where The Strings Come In, to me, stands up there with some of the decade’s best!


Did you know that I’m lazy? It’s true. Remember how I was saying that I hate Indie douche bags that dump on everything, but I understand them? Remember how I said I surrounded myself with people that drenched themselves in “good” music? Good, because this write up is going to be easy and prove that I’m also guilty of being a music snob.

I have four longtime friends that I worked with at my college radio station. Fisher, Marcus, Bagodonuts and Roundboy. We email each other somewhat regularly to share crap. Internet videos, music, dumb stories, whatever. In 2009 Roundboy felt compelled to email us all a copy of Guided By Voices Bee Thousand and wanted to know what we thought.

I had always not really cared about GBV. They had a song called “Glad Girls” I liked for a hot minute in like 2001? I dunno, maybe? I just don’t wanna spend my time listening to them. It’s not for me. Although, I will say that during this listen of Bee Thousand I understood or appreciated it a little more. Was there one song I will add to my regular rotation? Just one, “Smothered In Hugs,” but just so I can seem “cooler.” I’ll secretly hate it, but if anybody comments on my musical choice I’ll be all like, “Guided By Voices? I love these guys.” And they’ll probably say that their first album was better. Fuck you imaginary dick in my head!

After I listened to this album in 2009 at the behest of Roundboy this is the email I sent out to our little group. The ONLY amendment I’d make is that I’d say George Harrison and not Paul McCartney.

Here’s the email:

Dicks,

Okay it's an awesome Friday. Just made a vodka tonic and threw on GBV Bee Thousand.

First five tracks are a fucking pill. They're so bad, they're almost begging you to turn off the record. Then Smothered in Hugs kicks in and I think... somebody's in love with Paul McCartney. Yours to Keep and Echoes Myron sound like Beatles fart tracks. But I'm not saying I don't like them. If I could write a Beatles fart track I would. The effects on his vocals gets a little annoying. But if you're trying to rip off the Beatles and you can actually sound a little like them, what the hell. But I think EVERYBODY is ripping off the Beatles. Just listen to Superunknown by Soundgarden... total fucking Beatles rip off. Beatles. 

I give it a 6.5 out of 10. I didn't like them much then I don't know if I'll be listening much now.

I took a record a friend of mine loves and pee'd all over it. The circle of dickheads continues.

Fisher’s response to my email was “When you’re unemployed, isn't every day an awesome Friday?"


I like the sound of this record. I like the energy of the band. I like the passion in their performance. But this record is utterly forgettable. I listened to it yesterday. Listened to it again today, but I fear if you played it for me tomorrow in a blind taste test I’d be all like, “who’s this?”

Is “genericism” a word? Cause there’s a thick vein of it running through this whole record.

Tomorrow I listen to Jimmy Eat World, Failure, and The Black Angels.

Check out the April Playlist!

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