I don't know if you've noticed, but many of my posts here are reactions. Something I've read, something I've seen online, causes me to put up content as a response. I'd view this as something of a detriment if these posts didn't get about the same reaction as the ones I generate on my own.
So! One of the trends in mp3 blogging these days has been vinyl rips. I couldn't be happier! Dudes (and I'm only assuming they're all dudes, but come on) with super-good equipment, posting high-quality versions of direct-from-vinyl music. You might not think it matters, the end steps being digital and all, but it can and it does. PBTHAL's rips of the Big Star albums, for example, have a little...sparkle, or something, that's better than any CD of them I've heard. And sometimes, the best of intentions have an interesting effect.
Friedalive has been posting some interesting and unexpected things, and a couple weeks ago a rip of Soundgarden's Superunknown appeared. For the longest time, I'd only ever owned that record on vinyl, and I'd listened to it many a time. So I downloaded it, burned a CD, and took a listen. What a great job they'd done with the rip! Exactly how I remembered it. Still sounded like complete butt.
Now, make no mistake: the blame does not lie with Friedalive for this butt-ness. I'm not entirely sure where it lies. Is David Collins, the mastering engineer, to blame? Difficult to say. The CD and cassette share none of the terrible qualities of the vinyl: the lack of bass, the cluttered overall picture, the static-laden transients. Regardless of where the finger points, the problem is the sound. It is bad. It could be better. In fact, my favorite version, the best sounding, as far as I'm concerned? The cassette.
You see, my friends and I, we have this DJ night. It started as a joke, really; Sean and I were remarking on the fact that we'd both saved all our cassettes from our high school years. "We should do a DJ set with just tapes!" one of us said. And the joke stuck around until there was a wonderful local bar that would let us do such a thing. It was a grand time, and it became a monthly affair. So, in order to keep things fresh (for me, if no one else) I scouted around for new tapes on a regular basis, including things I'd otherwise owned for years. And this here copy of Superunknown? It sounds great.
Once again back from the wilds of (extremely regional) touring, let's talk Twin Cities. St. Paul, to be specific...
Back in 1998, I had some friends who were SUPER excited because a band called No Knife were going to play at the Concert Cafe, up in Green Bay, where all the good shows were. I'd never heard of 'em, but a good show is a good show, so I was as excited as anyone. Come the Monday of the show, No Knife did a stellar job (I still think Fire in the City of Automatons is a classic record) but I was more taken with the openers.
Two guys, two gals, scrappy punk rockers, but BETTER. There was something wistful about some of their songs, chords and melody lines that seemed kinda...I still can't really place it. New wave-ish, maybe? Everybody sang, there were harmonies, all sorts of call-and-response stuff, but most importantly, GREAT SONGS. Selby Tigers.
Nathan, the guitarist, had been in a band called Arm. His wife, Arzu, was the other guitarist, and had been in a band called Lefty Lucy with Nicole and Dave, the rhythm section. This was, I believe, their first tour. Nate sang the rock anthems in a clear, high voice. Nicole had a rough-and-tumble punk thing going. Arzu could switch from a sweet, almost babydoll sound to an Ari Up shriek. And Dave would chime in everywhere. They played a song called "d-Day" that night, which I never saw them do again, and I remember Arzu doing a clockwork robot dance in the intro.
We chatted a bit that night, I got a copy of their EP for WRST, as I tried to do with every good band back then. Also, back then, I used to go home on a pretty regular basis. I made the three-hour drive back to La Crosse, said hi to Mom, and checked in with the Warehouse to see what was going on that weekend.
The Warehouse was the only game in town, then as now, for those under 21. I saw some pretty incredible shows there (Poster Children, Melvins, Savage Aural Hotbed, et cetera) inbetween all the MPLS industrial has-beens that could still draw a pretty good crowd. Lo and behold, playing there on Friday night was the same No Knife/Selby Tigers bill. So I headed on down.
I got there ridiculously early, for some reason. Ran into Dave outside, he was hanging out with his brother. We went across the street to the Bodega Brew Pub. I was all of nineteen, but had my long hair and beard, and they didn't look twice at me. I didn't have a drink, though. Went back and said hello to everyone, and I recall hanging out on the sidewalk with Arzu and Nicole. I'd brought my portable reel-to-reel recorder (I think this was the same weekend I recorded the steam organ that would later appear on the first Hifi demo) and when they got onstage, I hit record. That tape deck, Dave's brother, the soundguy and I were the only ones to witness the debut of "Cutting School," which would lead off their second EP.
It's not too far from St. Paul to anywhere in Wisconsin, and the Tigers would make the trip often. I saw them every time they played in the state. Nicole quit, to be replaced by Dave Gardner, a well-known, respected, and kickass musician and engineer. They signed to Hopeless Records in 2000, and their songs started to lean more towards straight punk. They were damn good, always, but I felt like something had gotten lost from those early records. Same thing happened with another Twin Cities band, the Soviettes...
I guess by the end it got pretty bad. Nathan and Arzu got divorced, and I heard stories about them all showing up at their last show in separate cars. Not that I knew they'd broken up. In 2003, everything didn't shoot instantly across the internet like it does these days. We never did get to play with Selby Tigers, but we did a show with Arzu's next band, So Fox.
Nathan and Dave G are in a band called the Dynamiters. I've missed them twice now, but I hope to see them soon. Arzu's been in a ton of different bands, most recently she's formed a band called Pink Mink with our pals Christy and Charles from Ouija Radio. Dave the drummer moved to Japan, and was playing with Seagull Screaming Kiss Her Kiss Her for a while. I don't think he is anymore, though.
Their two Hopeless albums are still in print, so you won't find those here. This is everything else, though: -their first EP, Year of the Tigers -their second EP, South Then West -the "Sidewalk" 7" -the pre-second album 7" with "Tell it to the Judge" and "Snoball" -"Pomona" from a four-band split single -"World Without Charm" from one o' them Hopelessly Devoted to You comps
And three, count 'em THREE, live shows: -the aforementioned show in La Crosse, WI at the Warehouse -a wonderful basement show in Madison -the last time I saw them, returning to the Concert Cafe, blowing Bratmobile and the Donnas solidly off the stage. Ears open for a shout-out to me at the beginning of "Snoball"...
A stellar band full of stellar people, that meant a lot to me. Hopefully you'll dig them, too.
Ladies and gents, the Analog Loyalist has posted a REMASTERED version of Toreador Squat over at his place, The Power of Independent Trucking. Complete with liner notes by Rick and Rose! Go check it out!
So, tonight I blew off a swank opening party of a film festival, which I could have gone to with a really cute gal. Now, keep in mind that I got to spend a bit of time with said cute gal today, and will be able to spend more time with her in the upcoming weeks. But still. Party? Appetizers? Drinks? No, I'm at home, writing on my blog. What can I say? Sometimes I forget how to be sociable, I've gotten so used to sitting around by myself. It's not an excuse, just something that happened. But I'm having my own drinks and appetizers, and I'm writing about Poster Children.
Oh! Mighty Poster Children! Formed at the University of Illinois Shampoo Banana in 1987, and still (slightly) active today. They've slowed down quite a bit, but we had the great honour of playing with them at two of their five shows in 2009, and they have not lost a step. Andy Lester had not seen them in their current incarnation, with drummer Matt, and he was pretty amazed. Justifiably so, as Matt was ON FUCKING FIRE at the 2009 shows. I also got to point at Rose, and say to my pal Anya, "See how much I rip off from her?" Anya nodded in agreement.
I think I've seen them more than any other band. They've never disappointed. I actually did not like them the first time I saw them, in Green Bay, on February 27th, 1997. But it was my fault, as I had not brought earplugs and they were very loud. Luckily, I was dragged to their show in Madison the next night, and I understood. So good, this band. So unassumingly wonderful. Possibly egoless, just fueled by the sheer power of good music. Purveyors of the best tour diaries on Earth (except, maybe, those by Michael Dalquist.) I don't listen to their records all the time these days, because I don't have to. They sing in my head, and I can recall so many songs that way.
They have taught us much as a band, as Fugazi taught them. How to be a good, independent rock and roll band, how to tour on a budget, how to be nice people who support their scene. They have always supported us, not necessarily in a mom-and-dad sort of way, but maybe more in a proud-uncle-and-aunt fashion. All of this means a lot to me, but on top of all of it, they are just a damn good band. We brought them up to play a show in Manitowoc way back in 2002, and it was a damn good one. I remember standing next to Rose while Death and Taxes played, and pointing at Matt, on the edge of the crowd. "Look at your drummer!" I crowed, as he dove into the crowd and started a mosh pit. She grinned, and so did I. We had to follow them that night, and I was awfully anxious. They brought it, as they always did, and we had to match it. It's a proud thing for me to say, but I think we did. Those are our best nights, really, when we're up against Poster Children or NoMeansNo or Enon, and we hold our own. That's when I think we're a good band.
Anyway, enough of this blah-blah-blah. As any good internet-mp3-blogger type will do, I was reading another blog. Specifically the mighty Power of Independent Trucking, home of the amazing Joy Division and New Order remasters, amongst many other wonderful things. Browsing around in all of this, I stumbled across this post, beseeching all us anonymous folk to come forward with a copy of Toreador Squat, an early tape that Trouser Press described as "a raw, basic, set-length cassette for admirers of the band's live shows." "Oh, I have that!" I thought to myself. "But my old rip kinda sucks. I should do an upgrade!"
So I did.
Here it is. I tried to futz around with FLAC, but I couldn't figure out, using their frontend, how to convert the files. So, seeing as it's direct from cassette and all, I figured fuck it, I'll just put it up as wav files. So, this is a big download. Like 300mb. But you can handle it. Also included are a few tracks released on Chambana-area comps that Carlin gave me. Tracks as follows:
1. Hollywood USA 2. the Bump Bump Song 3. Rain On Me 4. Detective Tracy 5. Carrie Look Ahead 6. And So It Goes (the Skanky Song) 7. Jeremy Straight 8. White Noise (Black Light) (aka Question) 9. The Un-Reggae Song 10. Carver's of NYC 11. State of Mind 12. the Weenie Song 13. Five Minutes 14. the Half-Time Song
The cassette-deck-to-laptop setup I used to transfer this had some sort of automatic noise-eliminating action going on, possibly due to the low output from the deck. It didn't seem to affect the songs, though, just the silences between the songs, so I let it be. Many of these tunes showed up on their first real album (or even their second!) in superior versions. I think the demo take of "Rain on Me" is better, though, and it's a tragedy that this is the only recording of "Carrie Look Ahead," a lovely song about how life pretty much sucks. Includes scans of the insert, so you can make yourself your very own Toreador Squat!
Bonus tracks are: -Where We Live -It's True -Eye -White Noise -Cinnamon Girl
Yes, that "Cinnamon Girl." I suppose I would have been much more surprised to hear that if I hadn't seen PKids do "All Along the Watchtower" at the Cowboy Monkey last year.
Oh, and hey! You know what? Just because I love you, here's a board tape of their set at the Great Cover Up, back in 1998. They did Talking Heads that year. The set-ender of "Once in a Lifetime" is pretty chaotic, but "Memories Can't Wait" is a jewel.
I think that's all I have, unless anybody needs the "Copyright" self-bootleg of singles and comp tracks. I can post that, if necessary. Anyway.
Since its release in 1968, rock critics and other nerds have been playing the game of "Cut the White Album down to one LP."This game is surely less common these days, as its flaws and foibles have been accepted as a larger portrait of the group in dissolution (that's not to say it's no longer possible - my own CD burn, for example, excludes any song featuring the words "honey" or "pie.")
The early '90s version of this game is less likely to go out of style, as it features a far less beloved, or important, work.Use Your Illusion is generally regarded as the work of a band full of drug addicts, led by an egotist and his quickly bloating sensibilities.And bloated it is: the total time clocks in at over 152 minutes, making it a QUADRUPLE ALBUM.Yeesh.But so, the academic question: is there a quality album buried somewhere in those eight sides?I think there is, and I'm willing to go song-by-song to find it.
(Note: interestingly enough, GNR themselves (or someone on their behalf) have attempted this exercise.We will return to that later on.)
Now, this is 1991 we're talking about here, so we're going to give GNR the benefit of 80 minutes, a double album.They're a gigantically successful band, they're allowed that.So, starting from the top:
"Right Next Door To Hell":Despite Axl's hilarious mid-song shriek of "FUCK YOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU, BITCH," this is a great, riff-driven opener.STAYS.
"Dust 'n Bones":Not awful, but not sung by the lead singer.Such things are destined for b-sides.Also goes on for-fucking-ever.GOES.
"Live and Let Die":Doofy cover song?I don't care how much time you spent on the fake strings (which, honestly, do sound pretty amazing,) this shit screams b-side.GOES.
"Don't Cry (Original Version)":Fuck.It's really hard to objectively listen to this song after to many years of overexposure, but I think it fills the power ballad slot.Overwrought, sure, but probably the most heartfelt slow song on here.Probably because it was like ten years old by this time.STAYS.
"Perfect Crime":Solid riff, but totally sunk by the lyrics.Any song with a chorus that goes "It's the perfect crime/goddammit it's the perfect crime/motherfucker it's the perfect crime/I SAID IT'S PERFECT!" is laughable.Allowed on the album will be the harmonized demonstration of counting in the middle.GOES.
"You Ain't the First":Acoustic waltz, again not sung by the lead singer.GOES.
"Bad Obsession":Real heavy on the honky-tonk vibe, here, with the slide guitar, harmonica, and piano.But not awful, somehow.Maybe it's the disco bass that shows up in the choruses.STAYS.
"Back Off Bitch":Seriously.What's redeeming about this song?What makes it worth listening to?Nothing I can think of.Wuh-uh-oh-LAME.GOES.
"Double Talkin' Jive":Like "Back Off Bitch" without the level of stupidity in the lyrics.Although they're still pretty stupid.This really sounds like they're not particularly trying to, y'know, write a good song or anything.GOES.
EDIT: OH FUCK I FORGOT THE STUPID "SPANISH"-STYLE ACOUSTIC ENDING TO THIS STUPID HALF-ASS SONG GOOD THING I ALREADY DITCHED IT
"November Rain":Okay, gets kind of tough here.This song is iconic, a signpost about what GNR were all about at this point.And I think that's exactly why I want to exclude it.It's SO fucking overblown, right from the top, with the retarded "symphony" intro and the thunderstorm effects, and the rolling mallets on the cymbals...by the time the vocals start, it's already annoying.An ace Slash solo can't redeem it.Oh, and not to mention the coda, which could have gone entirely.Here's the exercise: try to separate this song from your memories of it.Don't think of the video, don't think of the first time you heard it...hear it now.Listen to it.It's crap.GOES.
"The Garden":Yet another song dredged up from the pre-Appetite days.Boring, repetitive, and outright wastes Alice Cooper.GOES.
"Garden of Eden":Now, this one, I dig.Racing tempo, cool riff, two and a half minutes of nonstop kickass.Even manages to overcome the weird whooshing sound effects.STAYS.
"Don't Damn Me":Not awful, but again, feels like filler.We know, Axl, everybody's out to keep you quiet.You just keep speaking your mind, and the truth, pal!GOES.
"Bad Apples":Man, this is getting pretty dire.I'm starting to rethink my desire to ditch "Dust and Bones."This one's kinda "bluesy," sorta "funky," has weird talkin' breakdowns, and is pretty much bad.GOES.
"Dead Horse":I love this song without reservation.I'd say it's the best song on I, maybe the best on the whole set.It combines everything I like about Appetite and Lies all in one four-minute package.Classic don't-let-life-get-you-down-even-though-that's-exactly-what-it's-doing subject matter, too.STAYS.
"Coma":The intro brings this one closer than you'd think to being included, but I just can't justify keeping ten minutes of this Bloodrock semi-ripoff (P.S.: looks like I subconsciously stole this comparison from Mark Prindle.Credit to you, you beautiful bastard!I READ YOUR BOOK!).Goddamn, that's a good riff, though...almost.Sunk by bits like "Zap the sonovabitch again."GOES, just barely.
Okay, that's the end of volume one.We are at just over 20 minutes.Looks like we're gonna come in early on this, right?Well, read on...
Days later, I come to whiskey and rock, and here we are, USE YOUR ILLUSION II.We begin:
"Civil War":When people think about the "classic" songs from these albums, "Civil War" is easily among them.It's a bit histrionic and definitely overlong, but shows genuine concern for the general concept of "war," and how it's probably bad or something.Good tune, all the same.STAYS.
"14 Years":I know, I know.I made a whole big deal about having the lead singer sing on the songs, earlier.But Axl sings on the choruses of this one, it's about Izzy and Axl's friendship (soon to collapse,) and there's gotta be at least one example of the three or four songs on UYI that sound like this.STAYS.
"Yesterdays":Sounds like another dashed-off who-gives-a-shit song, complete with heinously out-of-tune vocals.It's like these songs are all "Think About You," except this one actually sounds like a slow version of "My Michelle."GOES.
"Knockin' On Heaven's Door":Oh, good, another lazy cover.With reggae/gospel inflections, no less!And what the hell is up with the fake phone call?Who thought this shit was listenable?GOES.
"Get in the Ring":All right, people, this is where it gets serious.On one hand, this seems like a throwaway track, just another excuse for Axl to yell at people he hates (or who are vaguely not serving his purposes, it's not particularly clear.)But it's a good rocker, and something about it is so goddamn AUDACIOUS that it's hard to ignore.And in all honesty, Axl's pussy whining in the spoken-word bit just makes me giggle.How many times in my life have I randomly spouted "Bob Guccione Jr. at Spin?!?"Many times, many times.STAYS, somehow.
"Shotgun Blues":See, this is exactly why "Get in the Ring" made it.Coming after that, this song just sounds dull and indistinguished.GOES.
"Breakdown":According to the Wikipedia entry (and Slash's book) this song was really difficult to get right.Huh.Too bad it wasn't particularly worth it.Seems like the random breakdown (oh, I get it, ha ha ha ha!) at the end is indicative of the slack attitude of the whole tune here.GOES.
"Pretty Tied Up":An uninspired tune, with another set of particularly misogynistic lyrics.Sheesh.GOES.
"Locomotive":Wait, wait.Eight and a half minutes?Is there something that I don't remember in this song?Something else than generic blues-chug with badly off-time vocals in the choruses?
(six minutes later)A piano-led coda!Oh, sure!That makes SOME FUCKING SENSE AT ALL.GOES.
"So Fine":GNARRRRGH.It sounds like they're ripping off the beginning of their own cover of "Live and Let Die," except it's a whole song, and apparently it's about Johnny Thunders.It sounds like meta-bullshit.GOES.
"Estranged":Yes, they're allowed one epic.ONE.And it's this one.The lyrics are bearable (somewhat,) the exploded song structure makes sense in context, and Slash's guitar work is so good that even Axl had to thank him for it.STAYS.
"You Could Be Mine:"The last of the absolute classics on UYI, in fact, the last worthwhile song on the damn thing.This could have been on Appetite and no one would have blinked an eye (apparently, the song germinates from early sessions for that record.)Check out those nifty harmony vocals in the chorus!And the suitably apocalyptic middle eight!Even if Axl's lifting lyrics from Bernie Taupin (carefully noted in the liners, no less,) it's worth it.STAYS.
"Don't Cry (alternate lyrics)":Same song, different vocals.You can get away with this treacle once, but not twice.GOES.
"My World":Oh, hee hee hee!Hee hee!Oh, hee hee hee!Oh, Axl.If this had been a hidden, "bonus" track, you probably could have gotten away with it as a joke.Instead, it is the official closer to your magnum opus.God only knows what you could have been thinking, but it wasn't anything smart.GOES.
Total time of selections from volume II?33 minutes.Our total time is 53 minutes, a solid 53 minutes, five songs from each volume.Yes, folks, this could have been the power-packed followup to Appetite.In original order:
-"Right Next Door To Hell"
-"Don't Cry (original version)"
-"Bad Obsession"
-"Garden of Eden"
-"Dead Horse"
-"Civil War"
-"14 Years"
-"Get in the Ring"
-"Estranged"
-"You Could Be Mine"
Needs some sequencing, but a damn good record, right there.Now!Interestingly, and as I mentioned before, GNR attempted to cover this territory themselves.In 1998, someone (god knows who) threw together a bunch of non-swearin' tunes from the two albums, and called it plain ol' Use Your Illusion.Here is its tracklisting:
"Live and Let Die"
"Don't Cry" (original)
"You Ain't the First"
"November Rain"
"The Garden"
"Dead Horse"
"Civil War"
"14 Years"
"Yesterdays"
"Knockin' on Heaven's Door"
"Estranged"
"Don't Cry" (alternate)
Not entirely off from my selection, but manages to include BOTH cover songs and BOTH versions of "Don't Cry."Yipes.
And that is how I have played the game.Agree?Disagree?It hardly matters.The point is, there's a good album in there somewhere.If you don't like my version, surely you can find one yourself.I know it's in there.
This began as a sort of rebuttal. A website called nyctaper claimed to have the earliest live tapes of the Dismemberment Plan floating around the internets, from a show in 1999. "Allow me to scoff!" I said to myself, being in possession of two tapes of the Plan from 1997 and 1998. But therein lies a tale, of my first experiences with a band I really loved, and how one of them managed to break my heart a bit...
I saw the Dismemberment Plan for the first time on March 29th, 1998. They were playing with Calvin Krime at our long-lost beloved home base, the Concert Cafe, in Green Bay, WI. I'd brought a Marantz tape recorder up from Oshkosh to record the show, but something went wrong with the deck, and nothing was recorded. I had a wonderful time, though, and met the Dismemberment Plan for the first time. Good guys. The next night, they played in Madison. I couldn't go (I think I had to host a show on WRST), but DJ went, along with the Marantz. The basement of the house (in which resided various members of illustrious Madison band Paris, Texas) was flooded, and the Plan (and the Krime) had no choice but to play in the living room. In order to not anger the neighbors, both bands played semi-unplugged sets. Calvin Krime could only re-configure three songs in such a manner, but the Dismemberment Plan played seven tunes, including some new ones. Later, in exchange for a copy of the tape, someone from Paris, Texas gave DJ a copy of Emergency & I, which was still under major label clutches at the time.
As I said, I wasn't there. But I listened to the tape all the time, and soon had acquired both of their albums to date. What a fucking band! Combining various bits and pieces of Brainiac, Shudder to Think, and things I didn't even know about, those records itched with creativity and fun. And the new songs, from the tape? Well, there were some prettier melodies (like "The City," and "A Life of Possibilities," songs that ached, but somehow fit with raucous jams like "Academy Award") but overall things seemed to be heading down the same path. Over the years, we saw the Plan here and there in Wisconsin, and got to know them a bit. Eric was always a sweetheart, as was Jason. I never did chat with Joe much, but he seemed like a nice enough fellow. Travis, well...
Back in the early days, Travis was as nice as the rest of the band. Glad to hang out with us nerds, although a little standoffish, perhaps? It's hard to think back that far, but it seemed like he was cool. Somewhere in there, though, things began to change a bit.
Before we get to all that, let's go a little bit backwards: at some point, I got a tape of the Dismemberment Plan at the Concert Cafe from 11/18/97. I wasn't there, but this is a good overview of the Plan we knew at the time. There's a particularly unhinged version of "OK Joke's Over" here that absolutely brings the ruckus, along with such oddities as an early, slow version of "I Love A Magician" and a trombone-inclusive "One Too Many Blows To The Head" (which, unfortunately, is missing a piece towards the end due to a tape flip).
Now, this was back in the day when I had long, long hair, and a large chin-beard. I was shy back then, and I hid behind lots of hair and baggy clothes. I can recall saying hello to Travis at a show, and his reply: "Man, you just have more hair every time I see you." It didn't seem to be meant affectionately, either.
They stopped coming through Green Bay, but they did hit Milwaukee fairly often, and we drove down to see them. We delighted in surprising them here and there, whether it was showing up at a Fugazi show in DC ("What the hell are you guys doing here?") to having our internet friend Guti give us a shout-out when they were opening for Pearl Jam in Germany (Guti:"Hey Travis! The Pop Machine says hello!" Travis:"Oh! Well...I say hello back!")
I searched far and wide for an interview I remember reading back when "Change" was about to come out. I thought it was on Pitchfork, but evidence of it seems to mostly have disappeared. Anyway, it was an interview with Travis, and he said something along the lines of "Nobody liked us until we became tortured." I recall being furious. Oh, really? Nobody? That one hurt. As if everyone who'd supported his band until then was so much dogshit on his heel. Hey, man, we weren't doing the standing still. We were dancing our asses off. Even if "Change" was a pretty terrible record. Hey, at least it had "Superpowers" and "Time Bomb" on it.
All of this eventually culminated in the Dismemberment Plan's final tour. We heard they were playing requests! We'd seen pictures of Travis, trombone (brought by an audience member) in hand, playing "One Too Many Blows!" Nice! DJ tried to convince me that it wasn't going to be that kind of request show, they wouldn't just play anything. I wouldn't believe it. What kind of band would ask for requests from the audience, then not play them? I knew what I wanted to hear: a song called "Manipulate Me," from their second album. It was a fucking jam, and they never played it. Perfect opportunity, right?
I was writing for a local, long-gone webzine at the time, and I got tickets and an interview hookup for the Milwaukee show through them. Somehow (I'm still not sure where the confusion started) I ended up at the wrong theater, and barely got to the show in time. Outside, after haggling with the ticket booth operator for my will-call, I spotted Travis.
"Hey, man! How are you? I was, uh, supposed to do an interview with you guys, but I went to the wrong theater." "Oh," said Travis. "You didn't want to do it now, did you?"
The shyness (which I still haven't really shaken) kicked in. "Uh...no, I guess not." Travis went inside. I got in line.
Soon enough, the Plan were onstage, and they were stellar. They played some songs, and then it was request time. Hands went up all over the place, and though I was right in front, I didn't know if I'd be called on. Lots of folks wanted to hear their favorite song (I even recall seeing a sign someone was holding, way back in the crowd, that read "Can We Be Mature?") There was a crazy dance party onstage during "the Ice of Boston," as there often was, and wires were unplugged. There was a lull, as things were being sorted out, and Travis scanned the crowd for another request.
He pointed at me. I thought about what DJ had said, how they had claimed not to remember various songs earlier in the requests...but I still looked at Travis and said "Manipulate Me!"
He paused, looked me in the eye, and said "I knew I shouldn't have called on you."
Fuck. Did I deserve that? Did I deserve to get dissed in front of this whole audience? Travis went over to the other side of the stage, called on someone who picked "Ellen and Ben" or some other bullshit song, and that was that. I really felt like an ass.
A few songs later, the show was done, and everyone began to file out. We tracked down Eric, and had a lovely conversation about future plans. But Travis' words sat there, in my head:
"I knew I shouldn't have called on you."
That hurt, too. So I didn't feel bad when indie-arbiters-for-some-goddamned-reason Pitchfork threw Travis' first solo record under the train. And there was a decent amount of schadenfreude when he announced his retirement. I don't know. I don't mean this to be a character assassination or anything like that. Maybe he thought he was joking, the whole time. All I can tell you is what I remember.
This is one of many myriad Lou Barlow side projects, this one featuring Bob Fay (also from the Sebadoh) and Eric Matthews, who was in Cardinal, a band I have never heard.
This record? Eh, it's okay. "Mary Hair" is a good tune.
Belt Buckle (Sonic Bubblegum 1993) 1) Judas Suicide 2) Pocket Skylab 3) Mary Hair 4) Girl Who Reads
Oh, shit, I'm actually posting something in here! I know, I've slacked off hardcore at doing this. I'd say I'll pick it up again soon, but making promises isn't a good idea. Anyway...
What we've got here is two full albums, a 7", and one sweet cover of "Funeral Pyre" by the Jam, all by 90's Madison/Eau Claire/Minneapolis band Voodoo Love Mint. I'd describe them as the pop side of AmRep, particularly as all their stuff was recorded by Tim Mac. Boy-next-door vocals, high enough in register to be urgent, over meaty guitars and semi-busy drums, all at quick tempo. Also with a decent sense of humor, as indicated by song titles like "Too Hungover To Come Over," "My Parents' Waterbed," and "I Just Came From Space."
Their first album, Something In French, is a good record, but a little indistinguished. They hadn't figured out where exactly they were going yet, but Small Pet O.K. posits them right in the spot. My only complaint about this record is about the recording. It just sort of...sounds like a demo. It needs more balls. This maybe says something about the difference in taste between now and ten years ago, and I'm sure it sounded fine at the time (I didn't notice anything until I dug this out recently,) but it doesn't really matter when you've got songs as catchy as "Ambrosia" and "Roasted Flesh Daily." And the single sounds fine, so I dunno. I also dunno how "Crab" and "Moon over Miami" didn't end up on the album. So fucking good!
Apparently, these days the guitar and bass guys are in a band called the Jaggernauts, although VLM have been playing a gig now and again as well.
Voodoo Love Mint - Something in French - 1995 Angry Seed Records 1) Gunnar 2) Torque 3) Yoko Ono 4) The Service 5) Mean Robot 6) Castor Oil 7) Whup Ass 8) Tutu 9) Pike 10) The Coug
Voodoo Love Mint - Small Pet O.K. - 1998 Erosion Records 1) Ambrosia 2) Bar Song 3) Too Hungover to Come Over 4) Heart 5) Fun With Bugs 6) Hot Bowl 7) My Parents' Waterbed 8) Colonel 9) Kissing Death 10) Roasted Flesh Daily 11) Bucket 12) Light bonus track: I Just Came From Space (live)
Voodoo Love Mint - The Dreaded California Icepick Tests - 1998 Sterling Records 1) Roasted Flesh Daily (note: same as album version, thus not included in .zip file) 2) I Just Came From Space 3) Crab 4) Moon Over Miami
Various Artists - When You're Young: Songs Originally Recorded by the Jam - 1998 Youth Explosion 18) Voodoo Love Mint - Funeral Pyre
This spring, David Bazan did a solo acoustic tour of house shows, to make some money while he waited for the promotion machine to get rolling on his new album (out Sept. 1.) On April 9th, he played at our house in Milwaukee, WI. I asked David if I could tape the show, and he said I could as long as I edited out any of the Q&A stuff he usually does if I were to put it online. I hadn't actually considered doing that until he suggested it, but sure! So here it is, in mid-fi quality:
If you're a Milwaukeean, you know what a sadness the loss of Atomic Records has been. But this loss came with a silver lining: the purging of the archives. Week by week, records appeared, seemingly from nowhere (or, at least, the basement) and suddenly for sale. Personally, I spent probably about $400 during Atomic's last few months, and I fully intend to display the spoils here.
Rescued from the local 7" bin were two records by a band called Salamander Rd. I'd never heard of them, but saw that their lineup featured Dan Hobson from Killdozer and Spud from Appliances-SFB (along with some dude named Roger Ewalt, who played bass and sang). Picked up both of 'em, and they're pretty good. Largely what you'd expect from a Killdozer/A-SFB hybrid.
The first 7" came out on Bovine Records, out of Madison. They'd go on to put out a bunch of cool stuff, including a Floor single, a Turbonegro single, and the very first Agoraphobic Nosebleed record! It was recorded at Smart Studios by some asshole named Butch Vig (erm, and a guy called Doug Olson, who's probably an okay fella.)
Slaughterhouse Rd. - Salamander - 1990 Bovine Records
1. Salamander
2. the Best Thing
3. the Lord Loves a Workin' Man
Their second single, "Viroqua," was self-released. Viroqua's an okay town.
Slaughterhouse Rd. - Viroqua - 1990
1. Viroqua
2. Between the Reigns
(images blatantly stolen from this site, cos I don't have a scanner)
They put out a third single in '92, but it wasn't at Atomic. If anybody has it, I'd love to hear it!
