Pretentious Long-Winded Sophomore Album Title>>

Wow, way back when I was proclaiming good ol' Whale as the "next big thing that never happened" my pretentious ass never even realized those crazy Swedes actually released a second album just three years later. With the delicious Cia Berg again at the helm (talk about the pioneer of the "hottie nerd" revolution, no?), Whale's second slab of wax delivers in just that way late 90's alternative rock did. Of course comparisons can be made with nearly every female-helmed band at the time (Breeders, Garbage, Veruca Salt, etc) but Whale owns a weirdly Euro Pop sensibility that most bands this side of the pond lacked (or at least lacked at the time). The band eschews a rocking "Hobo Babe" anthem on this record for a lot more depth and darkness; a bunch of slow, heavy-lyric ballads mixed in with lots of manic trip-hop. Not quite the party album as their debut (unless you are still holding raves in your basement) but a lot more satisfying a listen. The epic "Go Where You're Feeling Free" cannot help but bring shades of "Happy Colored Marbles" or some similar bigger-than-its-britches mini-epic. Solid stuff that still sounds as good 20 years later. Enjoy.

Deliver The Juice

Dream Punk

Already a fan of his long-running Rocket Science blog, I was pleased to read curator Dave G’s involvement in the promotion of local record label Killing Horse Records. Himself the once-owner of a DIY indie label defunct for nearly two decades, Killing Horse launched in 2010 and focused primarily on northern NJ bands (half of which the guys were friends with). One of the earliest records Dave G reviewed was 2012’s self-titled debut by NJ’s Wreaths, a refreshing genre-spanning album which quickly brought to mind flashes of Ween and the Flaming Lips. At a time when Ween had just broken up (and, to be honest, I never found La Cucaracha terribly satisfying) this was exactly what the doctor had ordered. Clear Quebec influences aside (shit, half the songs have a weird "Chocolate Town" groove to 'em), Wreaths exudes a wonderfully trippy vibe that gives the record an almost ethereal quality (and makes you want to instantly drink/smoke yourself into a stupor just to immerse yourself in it). The opener, "Coke Straw" would make the Boognish proud, a cosmic pounder that is probably my favorite track, although nearly every song stands out on its own. Heavy use of the reverb pedal here folks, nearly every rhythm chord is stretched for maximum sustain - a space rock sludgey-ness which really sounds cool. The latter half of the record is more akin to an alien instrumental space dirge spanning one track to the other - "Love Me, Dark Wizard" reminds me of something the Black Keys have done and is a fitting close to the LP, a looping feedback overdub spanning the stereo channels to wrap up the 50-minute acid rock trip. The band has a few other releases floating around out there, your best start is with Discogs, Soundcloud and their Facebook (oh, and buy the record here). Good stuff for sure. Enjoy.

In case you’re interested (or an incredibly esoteric vinyl collector), info on Dave G’s circa-90’s Rocket Science Records can be found here. Killing Horse Records is still actively releasing records and you can check out their bandcamp page here. Lastly (for those who are not tired of links), while Dave G’s blog isn’t really updated anymore you can still noodle around the pretty cool archives here.

Leaves On The Leaves

Covers

Two reasons:

1. GG Allin cover.

2. Gibby Haynes produced and sings backup vocals on said GG Allin cover.

'Nuff said.

Fragile

College Music

Being a tried and true Ween fan I guess it was inevitable that I would eventually stumble into the world that is the Flaming Lips. Not only did they both break into the early 90's quasi-mainstream together via Beavis And Butthead ("She Don't Use Jelly" and "Push Th' Little Daisies" for the non-video savvy millenials) the groups would actually tour together in 2006 for almost a dozen shows. Musically, the anti-rock parallels are almost blatant; Ween was still a little more Casio-esque lo-fi than the 'Lips but both were still tinkering with the edges of "alternative" rock for an audience who still didn't know what they liked yet. 1993's Transmissions was arguable step ahead of Ween as far as production quality/song structure goes, the music is way more palatable than anything on Pure Guava; though in Ween's defense it helps when you have a whole band instead of a Tascam 4-track. Outside of 120 Minute faves "Turn It On" and the aforementioned "She Don't Use Jelly", the best thing about this album is how the last 4 songs kind of blend into a weird 16-minute mini-epic. Not only is "Slow • Nerve • Action" the best (and most touching) song I think the Flaming Lips have ever done, the lack of song breaks between the last few tunes convert the end of the album into a strange story focusing on Jesus, early-life crises, lepidopterans and invisible dogs named Paul. Maybe I've powdered a few to many hydrocodones tonight but this album is essential. Enjoy.

Tangerine

24 Songs For Teens And Non-Teens Alike!

Waaaay back in 1987 a young 15-year old Aaron Freeman sat in his bedroom and crafted an hour-long acid trip of an album - an amazingly astute precursor to what his alter ego Gene Ween would co-create a few short years later on Ween's epic The Pod. The material for Synthetic Socks' eponymous debut was culled from two cassettes recorded over six months by the New Hope, PA native - the "best of the best" were chosen by Aaron and Teen Beat Records founder Mark Robinson. What you get is a strange amalgam of instrumental odes created on a Korg Poly-800 (my favorite being "Tree"), surprisingly humorous teenage ramblings ("Weenstock"), good ol' garage band noise ("Cops" and "Collectives"), sweet "Birthday Boy"-esque love songs, prank phone calls and KISS. From the liner notes:

"Sprouted out of deep psychological problems and blossomed into a young virgin sound just waiting to be heard. It's all recorded in my bedroom with my tape deck and whatever else I can borrow off people. Synthetic Socks consists of me, and various guest stars. This cassette has been recorded over a span of about 10 years. I'm still in high school and plan to move where the trees live."

The guest stars include future Ween brother "Mike" Melchiondo on guitar (his acoustic untitled ditty to close out Side A is probably my favorite track on the album) and Ken Everett who both played (along with Aaron) in the jam band Pine Sheep. All in all, Synthetic Socks is a welcome addition to the Ween catalog - I sleazed out a copy when Teen Beat reissued a scant 55 cassettes in 1998 and it's been the holy grail of my dusty tape collection ever since.

On a side note, I just picked up a copy of Aaron's new CD Freeman. Twenty-seven years since Synthetic Socks yet there's a strange similarity to both records. It took me a while to get over Ween's breakup (and in that weird non-involved sort of way I was siding with Deaner) but Freeman is a solid forty minutes and is much more reflective of what Ween was morphing into than Deaner's "My Own Bare Hands" type of stuff. Worth a listen.

Proto-Ween

Soy Un Perdador

I'll give Beck a lot of respect for what he's accomplished over the last few decades but to be honest, I've never been that crazy about anything he released after Mellow Gold. Sure, ¡Odelay! wasn't bad and there are various songs here and there that I've dug but Gold was definitely where it's at, to coin a phrase. In addition to Gold, several CD maxi-singles (ahhh, those were the days mang!) were released on the heels of the "Loser" video breaking big on MTV. The singles were released in the UK and Canada (finding their way to our shores via the brutally overpriced "imports" rack) and were slam packed with some great unreleased material - not the typical filler "live" dreck that usually populated these releases. I've gone ahead and merged the two singles since they both had different tracks entirely - stuff that easily matches the caliber of songs on Mellow Gold. You got the epic trip-hop anthem "Corvette Bummer," the weird acoustic/tribal/experimental "Alcohol" and a six-minute "reject" version of Gold's "Soul Suckin Jerk" (while I prefer the LP version, this is a cool snapshot of Beck fucking around with everything in the studio). "Fume" is a fantastic ode to huffing, "Totally Confused" originally found itself on his 1993 indie effort Golden Feelings - this is a great re-recording and a personal fave of mine. The singles close with "MTV Makes Me Wanna Smoke Crack" - a thinly veiled jibe at the video giant and an unusual look into an alternative universe where Beck is a second rate Vegas lounge act. Enjoy.

Why Don't You Kill Me

A Small Victory

My previous nostalgic waxing notwithstanding, Faith No More is a band I have so been into at points in my life that to just hear a specific song of theirs can spark really exact memories of my highschool, college and beyond. It still baffles me how they never became the hugest band of the era, the fact that "Epic" a catchy-yet-cheesy raprock anthem is still their greatest Billboard claim to fame still chafes me to no end. Regardless, caught up in the wave that Patton and the boys were forging, I bought every fucking CD-single that the band released. Domestic or import. Australia, UK, Japan, you name it. Buy them for the bonus stuff: live tracks, remixes, occasional outtakes and rarities - some international releases contained the exact same songs as the U.S. version but had different cover artwork - and I tried to get them all. Years later as the realization that a decade of reckless credit card bills eventually have to be paid off dawned on me I dug into my considerable CD collection and wandered down to the local Buy/Sell record store to try and eke out 25% of what I originally paid for them to help in my war against Visa's debt collection department. I sold a lot that day but I remember the guy behind the counter pushing my big stack of Faith No More CD-singles back across the counter to me with the condescending comment: "Can't sell 'em. I have no faith in Faith No More." (like how he did that?) Shit, I thought I was gonna net at least $100 alone for those fuckers! Oh well. Long story short, all these years later I'm glad I still have that stack (and, somewhat more importantly, debt-free but that's another story). Spanning the entire Slash Records era from Introduce Yourself to Album Of The Year, I compiled all the bonus CD-single stuff into a complete album. I ignored the live stuff since it's mostly taken from Live At The Brixton Academy anyway and instead left you with a bunch of cool remixes, extended and radio edits, unreleased tracks, polka covers of Dead Kennedy songs and "Das Schützenfest." Enjoy.

Ashes To Ashes

Snackfood

Fucking awesome two-song E.P. from these Chicago sludge metal mainstays. Imagine spinning a brutal death metal 45 at 33 speed and you will kinda get the idea of what absolute bleak dirge to expect. Pounding riffs to mesmerize and rape your soul accompanied by the most pained vocal screams I've heard in a long while. Fucking bleak ass shit. The boys are still hard at it with their present style a chaotic mix of sludge, grind, hardcore and powerviolence. Check 'em out.

Bleed

Where's the goddamn drum machine?!?!

Shitty fucking night. Fucking stupid waste-of-my-fucking-time garage band has finally broken up. Fucking band rehearsal was a disaster tonight and the shit that's been building up for months finally exploded. I'm fucking done with the fucking pissing and moaning about "direction" when no one can agree on a fucking song or style to play to. I'm tired of lead singer syndrome and especially tired of big pick syndrome... especially when outside of our tiny rehearsal space no one cares about our loser fucking band. I'm fucking glad it erupted and ended - I'd rather spend the time recording my own shit then sitting behind the drums for 4 hours each week while clowns discuss what frequency they should tune at. We're playing fucking hardcore!?! Who gives a fucking motherfuck about your fucking harmonic tuning!?!? Ugh. Anyways, enough of my vitriol. If you're a fan of Bungle it's probably because you're a fan of Faith No More and got to a point after the release of The Real Thing where you were like "where did this Mike Patton guy come from?" Here's the last demo from the band that stuck together through thick and thin. Meaning, their charismatic lead singer joined another band and scored a top ten song which let him sign his old band to the same record label and then the rest is history...

Squeeze Me

 
Currently watching: Attack Of The Giant Leeches (2009)

Currently listening to: S.O.D. Speak English Or Die

Silly Swedes

Another 'check minus' in the long line of duds which prove I shouldn't be anywhere near a corporate music A&R rep comes 1995's We Care by Swedish power group Whale. Man, when I first saw the video for "Hobo Humpin' Slobo Babe" on The Box I thought it was the second fucking coming. Actually that's what I did each time I dropped 3 bucks a phone call to see cutie lead singer Cia Berg bounce around on a blanket, suck a lollypop and stare around the set like she's stoned out of her mind. In Doc Martens no less! I obviously had some weird brace fetish thing going on at the time but whatever - she was fucking hot. And actually still kinda is today according to Google Images. But regardless, I really thought Whale was the 'next big thing'. Fuck Ace Of Base, fuck Weezer, fuck Blues Traveller - who'd gonna know those names in five years? Whale was the future, or at least that's what I tried to convince my three friends at the time. In total disregard of what history has sadly shown, I stick by their We Care album and man, it still fucking kicks today! Not only the aforementioned "Hobo" but "Pay For Me", "Happy In You" and the amazing "That's Where It's At" - probably the best non grind- or black-metal song to ever come out of Sweden. And since I was most likely the only guy in north Jersey to also grab their mini-CD Pay For Me way back then (which has a great cover of Prince's "Darling Nikki") I uploaded that as well. Like fellow unheralded rap-rockers Quarishi, Whale eventually faded into obscurity on this side of the pond except to dorks like me who still fantasize that Cia is what every mail-order bride looks like. If they would ever respond to my emails. Enjoy.

Velvet Svine

Currently watching: Arrested Development (Season 3)
Currently listening to: 311 Universal Pulse

Yeah... I Sweat A Lot...

Y'know that handful of albums you were once so into, but for whatever reason you don't listen to any more? Yet still hold on to? The ones you break out once every five years, listen to straight through (knowing every lyric, chord change, nuance, etc.), then put back away? This is one of those. Junior year in college, I was all about Faith No More. Seeing them live, any appearance on TV, getting all those retarded CD-singles with an outtake or demo or live track, etc. etc. Immensely better then The Real Thing and (somewhat unsurprisingly) rejected by the MTV-brainwashed public, Angel Dust easily holds its own nearly 20 years after its release. Way, way, WAY ahead of its time, it really shows that Mike Patton had his finger jammed up the ass of the music world. Post-metal funk, alternative, anti-grunge, rock nonsense - whatever genre you want to try and classify it - listening to this album literally transports me back to the tiny shithole apartment I lived in. Christ, I can even remember the smell of stale beer and bongwater that stained the piss-yellow carpets. What a year that was and what a fucking album. Fitting for this blog's 100th post.

 Be Aggressive

No, it's not a Godzilla movie

 

Gotta love the Flaming Lips - their tenth (!) album is one of their best... a pseudo-concept album alluding to giant-Japanese robots, melancholy, science-fiction, love and a member of the Boredoms. As weird and as mesmerizing as all of their work, Yoshimi is a a lush and haunting electronic symphony, as strange as it is wonderful. Beneath the sunny, computer-generated atmospherics and the campy veneer of talk about gladiator-style clashes between man and machines with emotions, the album is actually a somber rumination on love and survival in an unfathomable world. Dig the heaviness.

Fire!