3.4.14 - Repo Man

On March 4th I watched Repo Man. 

If it wasn't for Repo Man, I probably wouldn't be a somewhat-failed radio personality, currently getting by with little hope of ever accomplishing anything real in my chosen profession. It’s true! And sadly, I didn't even realize it until just now.

I was sitting here thinking of a creative way to say that Repo Man, specifically the soundtrack, has had a deep and profound effect on my life. An effect that still resonates throughout my musical palate. That this 1984 collection of L.A. punk and hardcore bestowed on me a musical temperament designed for discovery. It created in me a fertile valley, rich with patience and enough understanding to find the “hook” in the deepest darkest dankest recesses of the recording industry. Repo Man ripped the God damn curtain down, used it to clean all the puke on the floor and then hung it back up… stained, ripped and threadbare. I never listened to music the same way again.

So, I’m trying to eloquently say all that shit, when it hits me! I wasted my fucking life because of this stupid movie! What’s that bullshit saying about choosing a job you love and you’ll never work a day in your life? I did that because of the music in this movie, kind of, and boy did that blow up in my fucking face! I’m pretty sure I would have discovered this alternate music out there eventually, but Repo Man took an unexplored world, wrapped it up in a bow and dropped it right into a tape deck near me!

Enough about me, for a second.

Let me try and talk about Repo Man as a whole. To me this is a very special oddball movie featuring a compilation of songs that changed my life and I always drift into the music and away from the film.

Harry Dean Stanton, NOOOOOOOOO!!!!!

Basically, what you got here is a movie about the trials and tribulations of being a repo man. That alone should have been enough to fuel a gritty story with action, drama and comedy to make a compelling movie. Harry Dean Stanton’s Bud could have carried this flick to become a genuine darling of American cinema and not just the Cult Classic it’s considered. Bud is the epitome of the broken American anti-hero. Here he is at the end of the road, saddled with the kid that reminds him of himself and still dreaming of his big payday. Everyone wants to root for this guy, warts and all!

But the main plot of this movie, kind of acts as the sub plot as Repo Man initially takes us on a ride-along with the fun loving repo men of The Helping Hand Acceptance Corporation. Emilio Estevez’s Otto, a young bored pseudo Punk Rocker, acts as our conduit into this underworld. Otto’s education of repossession from a wonderfully fucked up bunch of co-workers, some of whom are named after beer, is truly all this movie needs to work. “An ordinary person spends his life avoiding tense situations,” Bud explains to Otto. “A repo man spends his life getting into tense situations.” But, there’s a whole cast of cartoonish characters out there chasing Mr. Lobotomy in the Chevy Malibu, with the aliens in the trunk, all heading straight towards Otto.

I don’t want to sound like I was always against this movie’s weirdness, I’m just realizing now how much darker and more serious it could have been without it. Don’t get me wrong, the fact that people-melting alien corpses are being chauffeured around a gritty version of L.A. where everything is literally generic, except for 7-Up, certainly appealed to a tweeb like me. 

This film is time sensitive. The universe created within Repo Man formed a bubble, encapsulating my young mind inside and freezing everything happening outside. Getting caught in something like that is rare and when it happens it’s something you can feel. It’s real. It felt special to like a movie like this and hear others dismiss it. Their contempt fueled my passion. (Ironic now, because I’m usually fueling others passion with my contempt. The cycle of life, right?) To show Repo Man to someone that hasn't seen it now, wouldn't create the same mood and feeling it did in the 80’s. You just had to be there. Which might be why I’m trying to pick it apart and make it better for my adult mind? As I kid, I loved the wacky tension of the whole affair, now I’m seeing through that to the real story of the weathered Repo Men fuckups. I’d love to know more about them. Like, why is Plettschner always crocheting?

Plus, I’d love to know everything about Tracy Walter’s Miller! For some reason, this scene really spoke to me.

Talk about random! Why the fuck did he say “plate of shrimp!” WHY?! Later, when rival repo men the Rodriquez brothers are getting a soda there’s a sign for a plate of shrimp?! That blew my mind!

I often wonder if Martin Sheen went to the premier of this movie and afterwards turned to his son and said, “What the fuck was that? I was in ‘Apocalypse Now’ you little shit! This is what you’re doing? I know Francis Ford Fucking Coppola!”

OK, let’s rap about the music. The Punk songs are used so quickly, if you blink you might not hear them. (That doesn't make any sense.) The first 10 minutes of this movie burns through “Coup D’Etat,” “Institutionalized,” and “TV Party” rather casually and organically as if to say, “This is the crap these douches listen to while they’re doing their bullshit.” Their bullshit consisting of; slam dancing, trying to get laid in a vacant bedroom at a high school house party and drinking alone… and it all works so well! 

I also love The Circle Jerks performance cameo as a lounge band and Otto muttering, “I can’t believe I used to like these guys.”

The songs on this soundtrack set me on a path. I was now devoted to music and as the years passed this path became longer, more complex and woven into my life. Ultimately, it led me to working on the radio. For a long time it made all the sense in the world. I figured it out! I wasn't working a day in my life! I was making a living shooting the shit about music and I thought, “This will never end!” It ended 

But, this is hardly a “woe is me” story, because I have a solid job right now. (I have to say right now, because in radio it could all end tomorrow for one of a whole shit load of reasons and not one of them having to do with my performance. I've never been fired from a radio job because of my performance. At my very first radio job I was fired because “the consultant thinks we should make a change." I've been fired four times from seven stations in 18 years and I always think, "I wonder how I'm gonna get fired from this one.") 

I still love talking on the radio more than anything and having a couple hundred thousand people here my stupid voice. I just don’t get to yammer on about what I’m passionate about, currently. Just the other day I talked about Kesha getting out of rehab and taking the $ sign out of her name. I’d love for every once in a while to be able to talk about cool stuff, like my favorite Queens Of The Stone Age B-side and have it fit perfectly with what’s going on, on the station. (It’s their cover of “Never Say Never.”)

Because I was feeling a little stifled I started a blog. Last year I wrote close to a hundred thousand words about music and if I’m lucky, maybe ten or twenty people read some of those posts.

Fuck you, Repo Man! I could have learned a trade, or became a nurse or something!

I curse the day this soundtrack changed my life! I couldn't tell you the date, but it was sometime around the spring of 1985 and I remember it like it was yesterday.

My friend Tiger Balduf’s parents were out of town and I was sleeping over. Tiger stole a couple beers from his dad and the Repo Man soundtrack on cassette from his brother, Chris. We huddled around a boombox on the kitchen table, sipped our green cans of Genesee Cream Ale and soaked it in. Only talking to repeat lines and tell each other to “rewind it!”

A dramatization of Chris Balduf's cassette collection.

Suicidal Tendencies “Institutionalized” was the instant stand out here. It poured out of those shitty speakers like a gospel from the Church of the new truth! It made me want to testify! “I woke up this morning to a disturbing sound! I said, I WOKE UP THIS MORNING TO A DISTURBING SOUND! It was the jingle jangle of a thousand lost cans of Pepsi! Jesus Christ, bring me just one Pepsi! Amen!”

Tiger and I also had a very intellectual conversation about The Circle Jerks “Coup D’Etat.” He had just learned about coups in school and we marveled at the intelligence of The Circle Jerks in tackling such a weighty subject matter. Then we discussed all the shows listed in Blag Flag’s “TV Party,” and debated whether or not the song was being ironic, or if they really loved watching TV. We must have had a couple of brews and listened to the soundtrack a handful of times when the evening shifted gears.

Tiger was a year older than me, a pretty boy, and attracted poon just by breathing. So, we weren't too shocked when two drunk girls from his grade showed up at the back door. They had pounded a couple 2 liter bottles of Bartles & Jaymes wine coolers, God knows where and with who, and decided to make a social call. For the life of me, I can’t remember their names. But, just to give them some kind of designation I’ll go with two of the most popular girl names at the time, Heather and Kelly.

Heather and Kelly probably looked like two of these girls, and Bartles & Jaymes didn't look like those two guys. (Notice the can of Bud Dry? Good times.)

Heather and Kelly blew into the kitchen like a passing summer storm, their thunder dwarfed the sounds of the Repo Man soundtrack and they filled the room with a downpour of non sequiturs. 

“Kevin Moler is a jerkoff!” “What are you guys doing?” “Were you in school today?” “Did that guy on the radio just say Pablo Picasso is an asshole?” “There wasn't any school today! It’s Saturday!” “What are you guys doing?” “Do you have any more beer?” “Oh no! Kelly are you going to throw up?” “No… yes.”

When I was a kid, there was nothing cooler to me than a couple of drunk teenage girls. “They really were mature,” I thought.

By the time we knew for sure that Kelly was about to puke, Tiger had her about 10 steps from the bathroom when Bartles and Jaymes decided they needed to leave her stomach by any means necessary. Kelly went from cool and sophisticated to a limp pile of annoying in about three seconds. She spends the next hour in the bathroom.

Heather was in no condition to help out and after lobbing a few “are you OK’s?” from the hallway, she retired to Tiger’s bedroom. I reluctantly grabbed a roll of paper towels and went to work on the puke while I watched the floor show going on in the bathroom. Why is it fun to watch other people puke? I got some of the vomit cleaned up when Tiger asked me about Heather’s whereabouts. I was more than happy to get up and check on her.

Heather was sitting on the floor trying to turn on the ColecoVision to play Gorf. Remember Gorf? Remember ColecoVision? She looked up and slightly grunted, which I took for “can you make this work?” After she got killed instantly ten times in a row, she handed me the controller and told me to play.

This girl was fucked up when she walked in the door, but you could almost hear her belly full of B&J getting her drunker. She berated me with dumb questions about the game, while she slowly slid closer to me. Eventually her hand made it to my shoulder and then she began gently caressing my back.

“What’s up with your friend?” she asked.

“Tiger? He’s making sure Kelly doesn't flush herself down the toilet.”

“Not you silly,” she squealed with a hair flip. “Your weird friend with the glasses.”

I wore glasses but I wouldn't say I was weird! 

I knew two things; 1.) This girl liked Tiger and 2.) Tiger had his hands full in the head! So, fueled by the rebellion and anarchy I had just heard in the Repo Man soundtrack, I threw the controller on the floor and turned to Heather. This was probably the second or third time my tongue was in a girl’s mouth and I’m sure it was horrible, but in my mind that kiss was glorious! She tasted like artificial peach flavoring and menthol cigarettes. I was attentive, smooth and filled with passion – The Make Out Master! 

I know her eyes were closed the whole time, because mine were wide open and I was counting the seconds until this was going to go south. She slowly opened her eyes and even more slowly realized she wasn't kissing Tiger. I believe she actually shuddered. It was like someone had run into the room and threw a thousand glasses of ice water right in her face.

I wish I had a picture of the look that washed over her when she opened her eyes and realized she wasn't kissing Tiger! It could have become a Reddit meme for the benefits of sobriety.

I was happy to have grounded to first, but was a little offended that she was so disgusted! 

Tiger and I end up switching places. He had to talk Heather off the ledge, which I think he did by making out with her, and I was now on Puke Patrol. I followed the trail of repurposed gum and wine cooler down the hall and into the bathroom to find Kelly lying face down in the tub. She was wearing only her jeans and a bra. As I grabbed a seat on the toilet, I notice that “TV Party” is coming out of the boombox in the kitchen. “How’s it going,” I offer. She doesn't reply. I diligently keep my eye on her and make sure she’s still breathing. That’s really all I could do. I wasn't even going to touch this one.

“What the fuck?”

“What?” I look up to see that Tiger is standing in the doorway.

“Why did you take her top off?” he snaps.

“It was off when I got here!” I say. “And who the fuck says top?”

Kelly announces to the bathroom that “It’s right here!” And clumsily pulls it out from underneath her. It is soaking wet and looks like she was in and lost a tomato fight earlier in the evening.

“And why did you put her feet by the drain?” I ask. “You shoulda put her face down there? If she pukes again, she’s gonna be swimming in it!”

“Dude,” he explains. “You have no idea what it took to get her in there.”

Just then she heaves and we watch as the puke cascades down around her body on its way to the drain. As we both just shake our heads, a loud “What the fuck” erupts from the kitchen as the cassette player is simultaneously snapped off. Chris is home.

“Fuck,” Tiger whispers and we both figured we were dead. Surprisingly, Chris is in a great mood! He’s only half-pissed we took his cassette and genuinely thrilled that we got girls to come over. We didn't tell him that they just showed up with no actual effort put forth by either one of us. 

Chris had to go to some shitty job early the next morning and wanted to quickly clean up the bullshit that would potentially keep him up all night. He was like The Wolf from Pulp Fiction. He had the girls drinking water in the kitchen, Kelly in a clean top borrowed from their sister and both girls singing a synchronized story in about ten minutes. He also deduced it would be easier to drop the girls at Kelly’s house because they had a better chance of sneaking in unnoticed and not needing their cover story. Sadly, none of Chris' prep work mattered, because they got busted walking up the driveway and are still grounded to this day.

The three of us went back to the kitchen, finished a beer together and listened to the Repo Man soundtrack one more time.

That’s a special memory for me. At that point in my life there weren't many unsupervised late nights with friends and there was never anything like this! Girls, booze, life changing music and hi-jinks filled my head with an inflated sense of self-coolness. I’m not the weird guy with glasses! I’m the ballsy little shit that took a chance and didn't have any consequences!

Nights like that were always special because the experiences were so new. I didn't know what the fuck I was doing, but it sure was fun to try new things. It was those first nights like that that opened my eyes to new things and helped me realize I didn't want to be like everybody else. I just needed some help figuring out how to do that.

Thinking back to what lead me to wanting to be different, if I look at what my life was like in the spring of 1985, it’s pretty easy to see why I wanted a change. I had just spent the last seven or eight years watching Happy Days every Tuesday night, my dad listened to Pink Floyd The Dark Side Of The Moon in his car way too much, I played football every fall, I was an only child and spent a lot of time by myself. I was bored!

I knew I was gonna like the Repo Man soundtrack before the words, “wanna listen to my brother’s copy” left Tiger’s lips. I was thirsty for it! I wanted something other than the same two kinds of radio stations everybody listened to and the same TV shows and movies everybody watched. I still enjoyed a lot of that stuff, but I needed things to augment them and help me create my own identity. I didn't want to just be another face in the crowd. When I first heard this soundtrack and Iggy Pop singing about a witch doctor turning somebody into a toadstool, I didn't react to it with knee-jerk announcement of disdain, “what the fuck is this?” I welcomed it with a sigh of relief.

Epilogue

The impact of Repo Man on Tiger was astronomical! We kind of drifted apart in the next few years as he went full on skateboard Punk! Mohawk, safety pins, plaid pants with suspenders, Agnostic Front painted leather jacket… the whole schmear! He convinced his parents to let him build a giant half-pipe in the backyard and he was even a founding member of renowned hardcore band Snapcase! 

I know he had a kid while very young and according to Wikipedia left the band to get married. Last week he entered a fast food restaurant and just ahead of him, two men get into an argument. One of them pulled a knife. Tiger who would always make the best peace tried to break it up. He was stabbed in the throat… Nah, I’m just fucking with you that’s how Stand By Me ends.

Sadly, I don’t even remember the last time I talked to Tiger. I do remember seeing him at a gas station off of Abbot Road at some point in the 90’s and I didn't bother to say hello. I regret that.

2014 - The Year of Movies (From 1984!)

I wasted way too much time making this stupid collage! Can you find one of Demi Moore's tits?

Welcome to 1984 – The Golden Year Of Hollywood!

1984! A truly glorious year for the silver screen! Quite possibly the best year for film since Gone With The Wind, or some shit! A topic that’s definitely up for debate, but if you look at the sheer volume of great films that were released, you’ll agree – Something was going on in 1984. The something probably being that Hollywood’s head wasn't shoved up its own ass!

So many groundbreaking and unique movies were being released in 1984, that they didn't know how to rate them. They needed something to put between PG and R and came up with PG-13. A total crock of shit, but who cares? It used to be if a movie had sex and dropped some F-bombs it got an R. Couple of tits and a few shits got a PG and it was all pretty cut and dry. Then thanks to Mr. Steven “Fucking” Spielberg, we got the summer blockbusters that liked to mix a little of the ulta-violence in with the action and some occasional gore. All good stuff! But, children needed to be protected and we got PG-13.

The first movie given the PG-13 rating was The Flamingo Kid, but its release was held up and Red Dawn was the first movie outta that gate carrying the new rating. Incidentally, two of my all-time faves and I’ll be watching both later this year.

As luck would have it, I turned 13 in 1984 and because the story of the new rating was kind of a big deal in the news, my friends and some adults would joke around and say, “It’s a good thing you turned 13! Ha ha ha!” A truly meaningless joke for the kid who saw A Clockwork Orange at ten, and was staying up until two in the morning on weekends to watch HBO when it flipped over to porn. “Yeah, it’s a good thing I’m 13 now! Cause the dick jokes in Johnny Dangerously would have gone straight over my 12-year-old head.”

Also, as luck would have it, my parents got “divorced” sometime around 1984. So, Saturday afternoons were spent with the old man and we did two things. We’d go to a movie, then he’d take me to his favorite bar, order up a Schmidt’s and begin feeding me quarters so I could play one of two video games in the bar while I drank gallons of cherry pop. (We called it pop where I’m from and I’m proud of that!) This was the deal for a couple of years and I didn't really care because I liked to play video games and I loved going to the movies. Plus, nothing was off limits. The old man took me to see The Terminator, Beverly Hills Cop and Paris, Texas that year… all rated R. And I was old enough to start walking to the mall with my friends to see movies too.

I saw a huge chunk of these movies in the theaters. But, it wasn't so much the single, or double, viewings in the theater that made these films special. It was the countless subsequent viewings on cable throughout my teenage years and well into my adulthood that created an unbreakable bond between me and some great pieces of celluloid. This Is Spinal Tap, Splash, Romancing The Stone, Sixteen Candles, Bachelor Party, Revenge Of The Nerds, The Natural, and of course Ghostbusters. Ghostbusters becoming even more special with the recent passing of Harold Ramis. I once snuck into a drive-in to see Ghostbusters for the third time. Godspeed, Harold.

I decided during the whole 2013 – The Year Of Music experiment that for the thirtieth anniversary of 1984, I wanted to dedicate my blog to all the 1984 greats!

I am going to spend the year watching some movies from 1984 that I consider my all-time favorites, as well as discover and rediscover the stuff I forgot or just didn't give a chance for one reason or another.

On this list you’ll find about 65 movies, 20 or so of them I know like the back of my hand, and from smacking bitches around, I really know the back of my hand. 

Some got left behind, perhaps because they didn't age well and some, at the time, I considered highfalutin bologna. Important movies, but nonetheless, I was either too young, too immature, or too dumb to understand… or have to patience to sit through. Amadeus, I’m looking at you! I think it’s funny that most people know the imagery and story of Amadeus, but probably have never watched it. Kimmel just spoofed it on his Oscars post-show and I wondered how many 20-something dipshits thought it was an original concept.  

There’s also some clunkers on this list. Tank? Anybody remember that one? Sadly, I do. All I remember is that James Garner is in the army, C. Thomas Howell is his dickhead son, there’s a hooker, a crooked sheriff, and a tank! Can’t wait to watch it again!

The format of the year is pretty easy. I’m always going to be watching something on Friday and a lot of times on Tuesday… we’ll call those Double Feature weeks. I also tried to plan each viewing as close to the actually release date, 30 years ago! Hopefully, I’ll write something about the movies, or some dumb story about me figuring out how my cock worked around the time the movie came out. I did become a man in 1984… figuratively. I’m pretty sure, literally, that hasn't happened yet.

I’m now wondering if I had turned 13 in 1994… would that be my favorite year for movies? Or if I really was in the right place at the right time. I dunno, maybe?

I might fill in some of the empty Tuesdays with movies I may have forgot to schedule and some movies I may not be able to watch due to availability. However, I did just order Tank and Repo Man on DVD. I was gonna order Repo Man on Blu-Ray but some guy commented on Amazon that key scenes were deleted. Which if true is total bullshit! You know what line always sticks in my mind from Repo Man? “Plate of shrimp.” Figures, right?

Ladies and gentlemen, please join me in celebrating a fantastic year of cinema! I give you the 30th anniversary 1984 watchlist! Enjoy!

MARCH

Tuesday March 4, 2014 – Repo Man
Friday March 7, 2014 – This Is Spinal Tap


Tuesday March 11, 2014 – Tank 
Friday March 14, 2014 – Splash


Tuesday March 18, 2014 – Against All Odds
Friday March 21, 2014 – Police Academy


Friday March 28, 2014 – Romancing The Stone


APRIL

Tuesday April 1, 2014 – The Lonely Guy
Friday April 4, 2014 – Blame It On Rio


Tuesday April 8, 2014 – The NeverEnding Story 
Friday April 11, 2014 – Moscow On The Hudson


Tuesday April 15, 2014 – Up The Creek 
Friday April 18, 2014 – Broadway Danny Rose
 
Friday April 25, 2014 – Footloose

MAYBE

Friday May 2, 2014 – Sixteen Candles

Tuesday May 6, 2014 – The Bounty
Friday May 9, 2014 – Breakin’

Friday May 16, 2014 – The Natural

Tuesday May 20, 2014 – Once Upon A Time In America
Friday May 23, 2014 – Indian Jones And The Temple Of Doom!

Friday May 30, 2014 – Streets Of Fire

JUNE

Tuesday June 3, 2014 – Star Trek III: The Search For Spock
Friday June 6, 2014 – Beat Street

Friday June 13, 2014 – Ghostbusters

Tuesday June 17, 2014 – Gremlins
Friday June 20, 2014 – The Karate Kid

Tuesday June 24, 2014 – The Pope Of Greenwich Village
Friday June 27, 2014 – Bachelor Party

JULY

Tuesday July 1, 2104 – Cannonball Run II

Friday July 11, 2014 – The Last Starfighter

Tuesday July 15, 2014 – Stranger Than Paradise
Friday July 18, 2014 – Revenge Of The Nerds

Friday July 25, 2014 – Purple Rain

AUGUST

Friday August 1, 2014 – Conan The Destroyer

Tuesday August 5, 2014 – The Philadelphia Experiment
Friday August 8, 2014 – Red Dawn

Tuesday August 12, 2014 – The Adventures Of Buckaroo Banzai
Friday August 15, 2014 – Dreamscape

Tuesday August 19, 2014 – Tightrope
Friday August 22, 2014 – Oxford Blues

Friday August 29, 2014 – Bolero

SEPTEMBER

Tuesday September 2, 2014 – The Wild Life
Friday September 5, 2014 – All Of Me

Friday September 12, 2014 – A Soldier's Story

Friday September 19, 2014 – Amadeus

Friday September 26, 2014 – Places In The Heart

Tuesday September 30, 2014 – The Killing Fields

OCTOBER

Friday October 3, 2014 – Teachers

Friday October 10, 2014 – The Terminator

Friday October 17, 2014 – The Razor’s Edge

Tuesday October 21, 2014 – C.H.U.D.
Friday October 24, 2014 – Friday The 13th The Final Chapter

Tuesday October 28, 2014 – Children Of The Corn
Friday October 31, 2014 – Nightmare On Elm Street

NOVEMBER

Friday November 7, 2014 – Body Double

Tuesday November 11, 2014 – Paris, Texas
Friday November 14, 2014 – Blood Simple

Friday November 21, 2014 – The Flamingo Kid

Tuesday November 25, 2014 – Night Of The Comet
Friday November 28, 2014 – 2010 – The Year We Make Contact

DECEMBER

Friday December 5, 2014 – Beverly Hills Cop

Friday December 12, 2014 – A Passage To India

Friday December 19, 2014 – Dune

Tuesday December 23, 2014 – Johnny Dangerously
Friday December 26, 2014 – Nineteen Eighty-Four





 

12.31.13 The Last Day Of 2013 - The Year Of Music

The Set Up

I initially left December 31st, the last day of 2013 – The Year Of Music, TBA because I thought I’d listen to something special. I kinda wanted to, but I just didn't feel like it. I farted around with the thought of just replaying the first day of the year, but that seemed hackneyed.

One year ago today I embarked on a journey to listen to three albums a day for an entire year! Two classic albums that had either lost their significance to me or that I had never actually heard, plus one new album a day. That lasted longer that I thought it would, but soon I was down to two albums a day and nothing on weekends. I took off July and September and limped into the end of the year by binge listening to whole weeks at a time in a day or two. As I write this, I’m listening to the third playlist of music from last week. So, that’s what I listened to on the last day of the year... what I was supposed to have already listened to.

606. When I finish listening to Ween’s Quebec, I will have listened to almost 606 albums this year. Minus a couple of shitbombs, I listened to over 600 albums from front to back in one year. How many did you listen to?

However, this isn't about tooting my own horn. I really don’t like to do that. *WINK* But, I do love listening to music. So, let's try and figure out what I learned this year. Or, just go off on a self-serving rant. Either way. 

I’ll preface what you’re about to read with, “I have no idea where this is going to go. I’m just thinking out loud and there will probably be NO point to any of it.” So, you can stop reading now. 

The impetus of the argument I'm about to unfold came from listening to all my favorite albums of 2003 and slowly realizing that the philosophy of music being cyclical is now forever broken. There ain't going to be another golden age of music. This mainly pertains to my beloved Alternative Rock… which is dead, has been dead and I don’t see coming back.

One of the many reasons I decided to do this whole Year Of Music project was because I have been operating under the assumption that today’s music sucks and today’s music has sucked for years. I have been disenchanted with new music for so long that I thought I needed to start making a bigger push to find the “good stuff.” I had to stop waiting for the cycle to come back around and just drop great music at my feet. With so much music out there, I needed to get off the proverbial bench and get out on the field! If I stopped bitching and started doing, I’d find what I was looking for. I was wrong. It is really terrible and either I’m too old to “get it,” or everyone that loves Alt J, Sleigh Bells, and Django Django are a bunch of dipshits.

I honestly believe that everyone is a dipshit. Here's why... I've deduced that music sucks today because at the turn of the century, Millenials were listening to Emo and Hipsters couldn't get enough of Electroclash.  (I may have to put a Glossary at the end of this rant.) In short, two unbearable sects of people and their undying love of two dead genres of music have conspired to fuck everyone in the ass… forever.

The Sidebar

Do you know the story of Richie Incognito? He is a 30-year-old man and a veteran in the NFL. Incognito is currently suspended from the Miami Dolphins for allegedly bullying 24-year-old Jonathan Martin. A candy ass Millennial, Martin was raised by two Harvard graduates, is a rookie in the NFL, and to lay the foundation of my argument... He is the problem with the world today.

Millennials are today’s 18-20-whatever-year-olds. I don’t even know what their bracket consists of nor do I care. Just to put ‘em in a nutshell, they’re entitled little know-nothings that want the world handed to them. Obviously, not all of them are like that. Their whole attitude and very existence is a knee-jerk reaction to raising children brought about from a generation of hypersensitive douche bags. Parents that got smacked, got humiliated, and were raised in the 60's and 70’s by lousy parents – drunks, misanthropes, wife swappers, and probably worse. I get it. I don’t want to raise children the way I was brought up, but you can’t schedule play dates for 12-year-olds and give every loser kid a trophy and not expect repercussions in the long run.

I don’t want to go into the specifics of the Incognito case here. I don’t care who is right and who is wrong. I’m more concerned with the system. Getting the chance to play in the NFL is not a right, it’s a privilege. It’s an exclusive club that has given birth to legends. Honest to God fucking legends! It’s a long hard road to get there and it’s a longer harder road to have a career there. Anything worth doing, right?

Now, here’s what I believe. I believe that rookies in the NFL have been treated like shit for eons. I believe they've been hazed and dumped on in ways we cannot even imagine and then they come out the other side seasoned veterans – Men. You don’t walk into a very exclusive club and just become a member. You gotta pay out the ass.

In 1991 a friend of mine told me about the end of his basic training in the Navy and getting his first post on a submarine. Everyone on the sub wore a two pronged pin on their uniform as a designation of what ship they served on or some shit. When they were presented the pin it was pushed directly into their chest and then twenty or so guys walked by and “welcomed” the newbies aboard. “Hello, Sailor!” KA-POW! The whole crew had the scar to prove their service. Does that suck? Sure. Is it wrong? Fuck no!

I doubt Jonathan Martin is the first little diaper baby that couldn't handle his rite of passage into the NFL, but this whole scuttlebutt he’s started is going to escalate. More and more tender and sensitive and little 300-pound guys are going to make it into the NFL and they are going to turn it into fucking kindergarten. 

Do you think Bruce Smith would have ran and told coach Levy if Thurman Thomas and Jim Kelly got up and left the lunch table after he sat down? Do you think Lawrence Taylor ever hopped on a plane to go home and cry to his mommy?! He may have, but it certainly wasn't because the other Giants were being mean to him! L.T. loves his mama!

Being a man and all, I understand how men act when nobody else is around. I once got sent to HR for ending an argument with a male co-worker with “fuck you, fuckface!” I got suspended for three days for relying on a “he started it” defense, but so did he. I’ll never forget the looks of horror I received from my female PD and HR lady when I explained that we were having a private argument, it escalated, and that’s just how “men do it.” Boy, was that the wrong answer. Apparently, the world had changed since I started my career in radio.

At my very first radio job, another jock in our cluster, told me he would “end me” once. When I was at a radio station in NYC an engineer told me he was gonna “kick my face in.” At both of those jobs, I didn't even know who the HR person was… and that’s how I fucking liked it! I still consider both of those men my friends. The guy that ran to HR and snitched on me, though... not so much.

Chris Rock joked that we need bullies. The reason being is that someday the guy that’s going to cure cancer was probably bullied as a kid.

I'm pretty sure this article has something to do with the point I'm trying to make. Sorry to be so phallocentric, but you got one... you think with it. In that article, renowned feminist and snappy dresser Camille Paglia says that women today are turning boys into little pussies. She doesn't really say it quite like that, but that's the gist of Ms Paglia's argument. She goes on to say some other stuff and "that's how a civilization commits suicide." Society's head right in the fucking oven! Has this what it's come do? We need a pantsuit wearing feminist to tell us to "man up!" 

I can’t be certain, but I’m pretty sure everyone under thirty is a Vampire loving douche with absolutely zero appreciation for anything created before 1985 and spends most of their time taking pictures of their own assholes. (That's a whole other thing that's wrong with kids today! Pictures of junk show up on their phones, they go somewhere and get laid. Pffft! Where's the fucking sport in that?!)

Take a look at half of the music that’s being called Alternative right now and you’ll find a bunch of wuss-bags flying the self-proclaimed “I’m a Nerd” banner! Remember when everyone was pissing themselves over that band FUN? Pffffft! What is up with their song "Some Nights?" Was the sister raped? Is his nephew really his son, cause when he looks into his eyes, he sees himself? I dunno... they're terrible! The guy in the sunglasses at the bar sounds ten times more interesting than them! At least he knows how to strike up a conversation! The thing that pisses me off the most about FUN is that they came out of the gate as an Alternative band!

Booger, Gilbert, and Lewis pose with their Grammys.. and no socks! Those madcaps!

This is the future of the world and this is the future of recorded music! These are the kids making new music today! 

I’m way off track here. Let me try and pull this all together.

Emo

I thought your mom was picking us up after the show?

Back in the 80’s Hair Metal douches used to dress like chicks to get laid. That was all well and good, because we got “Kickstart My Heart” out of the deal. At the turn of the century, twenty something dorks just figured it was easier to act like a chick to get laid. Which sucked cause all they gave us was never ending song titles, pretentious album names like A Mark, A Mission, A Brand, A Scar and cry-a-long anthems called “I Write Sins Not Tragedies.”

This quote epitomizes the entire genre:

"It's the story of being alone and losing my mind and then overcoming that event by learning to trust and let go of that anger and fall in love for the first time. It's also about losing that love and the confusion that entails after, and the nature of first love; discovering what you really want whether it be to give yourself totally to someone or explore the endless abyss and risk losing your mind again and that love." Max Bemis – Professional Crybaby.

Sounds to me like homeboy could have just said, "boy meets girl, boy loses girl," but he went all Danielle Steel on us. Every Emo album cover should have just featured a picture of Fabio.

Kurt Steffek, a record label guy, took me out to see The Used play Jones Beach back in ’03 or ‘04. In the middle of the set Phil McCracken, or whatever the fuck his name is, said “wouldn't it be nice if we could take a break and have a juice box and some graham crackers?” He wasn't kidding. I was in my early 30’s, at the time, and never felt so old… and embarrassed for someone else for being such a pussy. Juice and crackers! Grow the fuck up, kid!

So, there’s that.

Really quick – Conversely, I saw The New York Dolls play a show at Stubb’s during SXSW in Austin, within a year of The Used show and in the middle of the set David Johansen said, “wouldn't it be nice if we could all just go home right now.” You could tell the guy was exhausted. He was 53 at the time, and I never felt so young!

Hipsters

If you would never get caught, would you kill this guy right now?

Hipsters are literally the best. They’re a bunch of perennial punching bags with a lust for the unknown. They live in a bubble filled with wonder. If it’s in their bubble it’s the best, and if it’s not then it sucks. Even if what they hate, started out in their bubble. They’ll look you in the eye and tell you with conviction that a piece of shit is art. The good thing about the hipster bubble is that good stuff does come outta there. The bad thing is that is less than 1% of that stuff. 

Hipsters have been regenerating for decades and let’s say the turnover for whatever flies in their bubble is ten years.

Now, while all the 13-year-olds were crying at the Dashboard Confessional shows, the hipsters wouldn't shut up about Electroclash. It is a performance art type of crap with a lot of synthesizers and a headache inducing beat. It’s like if Laurie Anderson fronted NIN and Trent Reznor was just a chick in the band that played bass. If you don’t know who Laurie Anderson is you’re probably very offended by all of this.

I guess FischerSpooner was the end-all-be-all of that genre. They were just an awful bunch of self-important dopes that literally rode a crest of fame for fifteen minutes. Under the guise of “performance art” they sucked at will! If you ever see anybody associated with this “band” punch them right in the dents were there junk should be!

Ta-Da! Sadly, everyone in this picture is still alive.

If you wanna go see crazy, sexually charged, whack-jobs with some talent then go to a Scissor Sisters show, for fuck's sake. 

So, then there’s that!

The Conclusion? 

Bear with me here. The 13-year-old crybabies from the turn of the century all became 20-year-old douches in the last few years and moved to Brooklyn! Which makes total sense cause ground zero for the whole Emo thing was Long Island and New Jersey. When they got to Brooklyn, the last scant echoes of Electroclash were still bouncing around the walls of the Music Hall. And that’s all she wrote. You can't throw an empty can of PBR in Brooklyn without hitting a talentless synth-based band with an Emo aesthetic.  

I’ll shit-talk Emo all day, but when I alluded to cry-a-long anthems, they are just that… anthems! Battle cries (Hi-Oh!) for a whole generation of confused fucking kids. I’d give my left nut to write a song a room of 5,000 kids would sing-a-long with and feel every word! That’s a pop-sensibility you can’t learn.

Taking a look at some of the big “Alternative” hits of the year… I give you Capital Cities “Safe And Sound.” A song that started out in the Alternative world and ended up a Pop sensation! “Even in a hurricane of frowns, I know that we’ll be safe and sound,” is a lyric right out of the Emo high school football playbook. Throw in your synthy-dancy bullshit, plus a trumpet and VIOLA! However diluted and completely made up in my head, I just won my whole argument! The prosecution rests, your honor!

I'm so sick of what is passing for Alternative music today. It’s Synth-Pop or just Pop infused with sensitive lyrics, produced by corner cutting Millenials! The problem is radio and the music industry don’t know shit about what people want to hear or like anymore, so new stuff is labeled Alternative until soccer moms decide they like to dance to it. That’s not a necessarily new move, but it’s too prevalent nowadays. Back in the day Maroon 5 was worked as an Alternative band before they broke. 

The first time I heard Lorde “Royals” was over the summer on Alt Nation on satellite radio. I was fucking pissed! Not because I didn't like the song, I LOVED IT, but because it’s not Alternative! It’s a straight up Pop song with an R&B backbone. The Neighborhood “Sweater Weather?” Bastille “Pompeii?” Twenty One Pilots “Shit On A Shingle?” Bitch, please!

Gimme my genre back! That’s all I want! I want Alternative to be what it used to be without all this bullshit! 

Everything that is unfamiliar is not Alternative, it’s unknown. You can’t keep running everything up an Alternative flagpole just to see if the masses will salute it. "Oh, Imagine Dragons is better than we thought?" said the dickhead label boss. "Start getting that on the Pop radio stations so we can make some real money!" "What? Nobody likes The Mowgli’s? Well, just keep telling the knuckledraggers who still believe that it’s Alternative." "American Authors are actually likable hipsters that sing about dancing with monsters? Sign 'em up!" "Group love doesn't suck that much." "Of Monsters And Men live under a bridge?" "Chvrches spells their name with a v!" 

Fuck that shit, assholes. I’m on to your game! I know what you’re up to and it stinks. It stinks like the back alley of the vomitorium on Monday morning... all balls and onions!

I could be wrong… but I dunno, maybe?

Oh, I also learned that Led Zeppelin IV is almost as good as The Beatles Revolver. And Queens Of The Stone Age ...Like Clockwork was the best album of 2013.

THE END!