I’ve had this kickin around my room for months because I was stuck in a bizarre paradox of not wanting to listen to it if it had the potential to tarnish my favourite band but also not wanting to miss out on grabbing it if it turned out to be excellent.
Well, I took the plunge this afternoon and the results are mixed. I knew I was setting myself up for disappointment by expecting that this would sound like Soul Food or even 9 Songs with Quintron. There’s not very much punk left in this record except for the two Eric Oblivian songs, which also happen to be the best songs on the record- surprise!. The rest of it ranges from a couple thick blues jams that rival early Black Keys stuff in sheer power to songs that sound like they could pass for being part of a Burger Records comp.
Why put out a record of songs that sound so much like the member’s current, better bands? Greg’s contributions sound like Reigning Sound. Eric’s, despite their status as album highlights, come across as sterilized True Sons of Thunder songs. And the Jack songs are just like his Tearjerkers records. Not a toss-out record by any stretch, but certainly a confusing piece of soon-to-be history.
As a brief aside to band’s credit: The songs seem like they translate real well live- so maybe like so many records in 2013 it’s the production that really makes or breaks a record. Such a clean recording doesn’t suit many bands at all, and it certainly doesn’t fit the Oblivians.
Saw a guy I went to highschool with at the bar tonight. He was giving me the “do I recognize you?” look for a good long while so I helped him out by looking into his eyes and licking my teeth at him. Guess he decided he didn’t know me after all.
Kim Fowley - Motorboat
THINK ABOUT YOU EVERY DAY KIM.
Talk about the law, talk about the rules.
Talk about true love but your lovin’, it ain’t true.
From Texas. It’s aaaalways Texas.
This is the kind of lame elitist bullshit that intimidates newcomers in the hardcore scene and stops people from pursuing what they want to do as an artist
Boy, do I hope so.
There are actually too many jokes to make about this, so I’ll just leave it here without comment.
Jimi Hendrix with Wilson Pickett.
Wilson Pickett with Jimi Hendrix
I wanted to make her really directed and ambitious and big and totally flinging herself at the wrong thing. But she had this drive that manifests in anger or extreme love or extreme mistakes. I feel like the movie shows—it’s kind one of the tragedies of maturity but also one of the things I think is necessary for it—you almost feel her reeling herself in by the end, she becomes more self-contained. And there’s a sadness because there’s this spilling out of everything she’s doing and feeling. And going for that stuff has its own beauty, and to reel it all back in and keep it inside is necessary, but also kind of sad.
Billy Bragg - Greetings to the New Brunette
I’d like to test my hypothesis that liking Billy Bragg and enjoying Morrissey are mutually exclusive phenomenon. This comes from proof that Billy Bragg is phenomenal and Morrissey is complete and total trash.
Also this song is perfect.
"You, my audience, are all a bunch of poppaloppers. A bunch of tumbling weeds, tumbling ’round, running from your subconscious unconscious minds…. Minds? Minds that won’t let you stop to listen to a word of artistic meaningful truth…. So you come to me, you sit in the front row, as noisy as can be. I listen to your millions of conversations, sometimes pulling them all up together and writing a symphony. But you never hear that symphony… You haven’t been told before that you’re phonies. You’re here because jazz is popular, jazz has publicity and you like to associate yourself with this sort of thing. But it doesn’t make you a connoisseur of the art because you follow it around. You’re dilettantes of style. A blind man can go to an exhibition of Picasso and Kline and not even see what works. And comment behind dark glasses. Wow! They’re the swingingest painters ever, crazy! Well, so can you. You’ve got your dark glasses and clogged-up ears…. You become the object you came to see, and you think you’re important and digging jazz when all the time all you’re doing is digging a blind, deaf scene that has nothing to do with any kind of music at all."
Charles Mingus addressing the audience at the Five Spot in NYC.