Janet Jackson’s ‘All For You’ vs. Jimmy Eat World’s ‘Bleed American’

by KevinLeave a Comment on Janet Jackson’s ‘All For You’ vs. Jimmy Eat World’s ‘Bleed American’

Best Record of 2001: Day 43

Good morning!

Today we’re taking a look at Janet Jackson’s ‘All For you’ as it takes on Jimmy eat World’s ‘Bleed American.’

In 2000, Janet Jackson found herself on the wrong side of a divorce filing from Rene Elizondo. He was suing Janet for $25 million in spousal support despite there being a prenuptial agreement. (Janet ended up settling out of court in ‘03. Rumor is she paid him $10 million.) Nice work if you can get it!

At any rate, nothing says “turning over a new leaf” like making a new album.

Jackson, on the record:

“I call my latest release All for You. The You is my fans who’ve stayed with me and watched me grow; the You is the mysterious force of love that’s the source of creativity; and the You is also me. All for You is a suite of songs that helped me move from one emotional level to another. I’m the kind of artist who has no choice but to write what I feel.

Velvet Rope took me inside my fears and frustrations. All for You has brought me outside, happy on a natural high, convinced that I really can express joy in the face of pain. My moods are changing. If you listen to the CD, you’ll hear what I’m going through. There’s anger, hurt, regret, even that familiar vein of severe self-criticism that I can’t quite shake. (I still can’t stand seeing any of my movies or concert tapes; I still cringe when I watch myself act or dance.) Yet there’s also confidence.

I hope this doesn’t sound egotistical, but this time I stood alone and crafted my art according to my heart. I feel free, and there’s nothing more wonderful than freedom.”

The TL;DR here is that Miss Jackson is horny.

I mean, All for You has her singing, “You got a nice package all right / Guess I’m gonna have to ride it tonight.” God damn.

And that’s just the start. The entire record gives off a “newly divorced and making up for lost time” energy, and the heat only goes up from there.

“Love Scene (Ooh Baby)” has a wait, what?! moment (spoiler: she’s saying exactly what you think she’s saying). And on “Would You Mind,” we get: “I just wanna touch you, tease you, lick you, please you…”

Look, I’m a guy, and let’s be real: horny Janet is entertaining… but only for a minute. It would be better if she were surrounded by something — anything — more interesting. There are a couple of great moments on here. “Son of a Gun,” with its lifting of Carly Simon’s “You’re So Vain,” is fun. Ditto “Someone to Call My Lover,” with its sampling of America’s “Ventura Highway.” It’s a close race between that and the title track for the record’s highlight.

“Truth” is a raw ballad that’s at the wistful end of the breakup spectrum — the yucky part you have to go through to get to the fun one. I guess what I’m trying to say is that All for You is at its best when she’s not hot and bothered and chooses instead to lean into breaking new (for her) ground.

Okay! So, Jimmy Eat World. You ever get a ride to a party from someone who then gets into a knockdown, drag-out fight with their partner, and you’re stuck there because… no ride? Yeah. And then maybe, for whatever reason, “The Middle” happens to have some sort of significance to the two of them, so it gets played at full blast while they verbally tear each other to shreds, leaving the song permanently attached to that memory? No? Just me? Oh, okay then.

So, 25+ years later, and I’m finally hearing the rest of the record, and it’s not terrible! This is the sort of standard-issue rock-y power pop a lot of emo bands moved toward back then. Dug “If You Don’t, Don’t”; I thought that had some oomph to it, and I’ll likely listen to it more after this. The rest sounds like what was pouring out of Anthropologie speakers at the time, or at parties in SE Portland.

Bottom Line: Horny Janet > bog standard emo/power pop. Bracket pick and vote are both going to Damita Jo.

Any thoughts on either of these records? Agree/disagree with my take? Sound off in the comments!

Sound-Dust Is One of Stereolab’s Most Underrated (and Pivotal) Records

by KevinLeave a Comment on Sound-Dust Is One of Stereolab’s Most Underrated (and Pivotal) Records

Best Record of 2001: Day 42

Cover art courtesy of Elektra/Duophonic records.

Hello there!

Today we’re taking a look at Stereolab’s Sound-Dust LP.

I came to Sound-Dust long after hearing other Sterolab records on either side of the catalog, which probably changed the way I hear it.

By the time I got to it, I already knew a few of the albums that came before, and a few that came after, so I had at least a little context. What stood out right away was how complete(?) it felt. Stereolab is still Stereolab here, so you get the bleeps, bloops, and sidequests. The little left turns that can make their records feel like they’re always drifting just enough. On Sound-Dust, you get all of that, yet it somehow feels assembled into something more settled and, frankly, more satisfying.

I don’t want to say they finally figured out sequencing, but if the shoe fits…

The songs flow into each other with more purpose than I expect from a Stereolab album, and that gives the record a real shape, or actual arc. It still sounds weird, of course; wouldn’t be Stereolab if it didn’t!. But instead of sounding scattered, it comes across as composed.

That’s a part of why I think Sound-Dust deserves more attention than it usually gets. The other is that this is Mary Hansen’s last appearance, and her tragic death casts a long shadow. Obviously, no one knew this would be her final record, but listening to it today feels like having a front-row seat at the end of an era. The record itself is so bright and alive, and while I’d much prefer she were still here, it’s a great final act, and a great close to an era.

That said, Sound-Dust also feels like the band easing into the next stage. Again, obviously, hindsight helps, but it has that future-retro quality, where the old hallmarks are still there but smoothed out and arranged into something more unified/monolithic. Stereolab had always been good at making music that sounded like it came from somewhere in the future. Here, that instinct feels appropriate. Less like something from the Jetsons or Space Age bachelor pad, and more of it’s time. I really hope that makes as much sense on your screen as it does mine…

Ultimately, I think that’s why this one warrants some space in the “best Stereolab record” discourse. When you’re up against titans like Emperor Tomato Ketchup, Dots and Loops, or even Transient Random Noise Bursts w/Announcements, an upset is a tall ask.

I don’t think this is the best one they’ve ever released, but it is one that helps define what Stereolab became in the 2000s. It is graceful, strange, and surprisingly warm. It has enough twists and turns to keep you leaning in, but it also feels like a band at the top of their game, trusting their own instincts more than ever.

Bottom Line: This is facing of against Allison Krauss & Union Station, and while there’s no denying her incredible talent, thwer’s also no denying that it came close to being only my 2nd or 3rd DNF of this challenge so far. This just wasn’t my bag. Bracket pick and vote will be for the Groop.

Any thoughts on either this or any Stereolab records? Agree/disagree with my take? Sound off in the comments!

Gorillaz, Clearlake, and the Blur of Reality

by KevinLeave a Comment on Gorillaz, Clearlake, and the Blur of Reality

Best Record of 2001: Day 41

Good morning!

Today we’re taking a look at Gorillaz’ self-titled debut as it faces off against Clearlake’s Lido.

Note: As many of you saw, I recently wrote about a Best Record of 2001 challenge and noted that I’d be writing some of these up.

The plan is to do quick hits on each first-round matchup and post them directly to the page. Some will be longer, some won’t, and some might just be a handful of sentences. There’ll probably be a few typos. We’ll also have a few guest posts along the way, so make sure to stay tuned for those!

Check ’em out and let me know your thoughts! Chin wags & hot takes welcome! Sharing and restacks always appreciated.

KA—

In an era where AI blurs the line between what’s real and what isn’t, a band of cartoon avatars feels almost quaint. But in 2001, this was all wild-frontier kind of stuff, even if we knew the voices behind the characters. Damon Albarn had seen massive success in Blur, while Del Tha Funky Homosapien had given the world one of the most lethal earworms in the form of “Dobalina.” As part of Cibo Matto, Miho Hatori was also a bit of a cult figure. So yeah, plenty of firepower and street cred in equal measure.

Things kick off with the steady groove of “Re-Hash,” and quickly establish that this is not a Blur record, or a Del or Cibo Matto record, for that matter, but it is a collective effort. And of course, we have to talk about “Clint Eastwood,” the track that put them on the map. The blending of Albarn’s vocals with Del’s and the beat, which, if memory serves, came from the demo mode of a Casio keyboard, made for a fantastic on-ramp for most of us.

“19-2000” is also an all-timer, but for my money, the real star here is “Rock the House” (another Del feature). It’s a dance-floor filler. There’s also plenty of dub and other spacey vibes in every corner of the record, which leads to its biggest fault: for all the highs, there’s an equal amount of not-so-high stuff. This is a 15-track record that could have very easily been a 9- or 10-track masterpiece. With that much talent in one space, it was bound to happen.

Still, the good far outweighs the bad. We know the heights the band will reach later with tracks like “On Melancholy Hill” and “Dare.” But none of that happens without the noodling and adventuring taking place here. It’s a little rough around the edges, but ultimately this is a solid debut from a collective finding its footing.

With Lido, Clearlake seems to have found theirs, which ironically sounds not a little like Blur and later-era Beatles. And with Sunday Evening, maybe a little like Portishead? Maybe that’s just me. Maybe I’m overthinking it. No matter. This was supposed to represent the next wave of Britpop, but people want Parklife or the snotty fury of Oasis. They come close with “Something to Look Forward to” (this writer’s favorite on the record), but mostly this is atmospheric, woozy music with Jason Pegg’s vocals over the top. It’s an aesthetic that only comes from living somewhere that sees a lot of rain. It’s appealing enough, but not something I can see myself returning to.

Bottom Line: Gorillaz are seeded 7th here, and going up against #122 seems unfair. Part of me wants to vote for Clearlake just to see what happens, but as maudlin as the record can get, I’m not sure they’d appreciate a pity vote. Bracket pick and vote are both going to 2-D, Murdoc, Noodle, and Russel.

Any thoughts on either of these records? Agree/disagree with my take? Sound off in the comments!

Discussion: What’re You Listening To?

by KevinLeave a Comment on Discussion: What’re You Listening To?

Note: May 18th is a big day both in music history and for anyone who lived in the PNW in 1980. I first ran this piece when there were about 6 of us here (and 3 of them lived with me), and it’s become an annual tradition.

We don’t have many musical traditions in my family. On Thanksgiving, my wife & kids have to endure “Alice’s Restaurant” at least once (or rather, my attempts to sing it). Sometime in the next few weeks after that, Otis Redding’s version of “Merry Christmas Baby” gets a spin, and that’s about it for the year…with one exception.

Growing up, we hardly had any traditions- musical or not. In fact, about the only time I can remember us doing anything even remotely collective had to do with this song. This started in 1980, in the lead-up to Mt. St. Helens’ eruption, when the song was played as a bit of gallows humor. Anytime it played, we’d all just sort of start singing along. No other song before or since can make that claim.

If you can’t control something, you might as well sing about it, right?

P.S. Since this first ran, my mom moved. I’m not sure the Sanka can came with her, but I’d like to think it’s still in a box waiting to be unpacked.

KA—

Living under a looming threat and widespread mask use was a new phenomenon for most of us. But for those of a certain age living in the Pacific Northwest, it evoked memories of 1980.

People wearing masks in Portland Oregon ahead of the 1980 eruption of Mt. St. Helens.
Photo: Oregonlive.com

Living in the shadows of the Cascade Mountains, it’s easy to forget that it’s a volcanic range. Easy, that is, until Mother Nature reminds you.

And so it was in late 1979/early 1980 with Mt. St. Helens.

At first, the eruptions were nominal enough; some steam here, a small landslide there. Later as they grew in scale, ash began to rain down on downwind communities, and painter masks became de rigueur fashion.

This culminated with a cataclysmic eruption on May 18th, 1980, which permanently changed people’s lives — and left the landscape unrecognizable.

On that day, just five words let the world know it was about to be changed forever. Volcanologist David Johnston had been camped on the mountain’s flank to monitor the increasingly dangerous situation.

The morning of May 18th, in a radio call to the USGS office, he announced the eruption to the world, his last words being, “Vancouver! Vancouver! This is it!

Buffett had a different mountain in mind when he wrote “Volcano.” He was talking about the Soufriere Hills volcano on the Caribbean Island of Montserrat.

But radio stations in places like Portland, Oregon, and Spokane, Washington, put it in their rotation as a part of a gallows humor approach to the impending disaster everyone knew was coming but didn’t know when — the calypso style offering a sunny contrast to the (literally) gray pall cast over the area.

Four decades on, the song remains a staple at Buffett performances—and in my house on every May 18th.

If you have friends who grew up in Oregon or Washington, don’t be surprised if pictures of Johnston are on their timelines today.

And for many of those same people, a coffee can full of volcanic ash remains on a shelf in their garage as a souvenir — a reminder of when life got sketchy, and nothing was left to do but sing about it.

Besides Jimmy and Joy Division, this week’s list has new tracks from Dan Pritchard, The Mountain Goats, and Kurt Vile. We’ve also got the usual sonic comfort food/deep cuts from GBV, XTC, and more.

Side A is tracks 1-15 (ends with Wilco). Side B is tracks 16-31.

On to the music…

Other sources: Apple | Qobuz | YouTube Music|


Now it’s your turn.

Any new releases or shows you’re looking forward to? Whatcha got? Share your thoughts in the comments!

Death Cab for Cutie’s ‘The Photo Album’ Is Pleasant Enough, but More Is Coming

by KevinLeave a Comment on Death Cab for Cutie’s ‘The Photo Album’ Is Pleasant Enough, but More Is Coming

Best Record of 2001: Day 40

Good morning!

Today we’re taking a look at The Photo Album by Death Cab for Cutie.

A lifetime ago, I saw Death Cab play one of those festivals every city seems to have during the summer. This was in Portland, and someone had the brilliant idea to run this festival at the exact same time as one of the 9th biggest and most established events. PDX’ers are nothing if not ambitious. It was, to put it diplomatically, an unmitigated disaster. Attendance could be measured by the dozen…maybe. I was there for one simple reason: I was getting paid. It was one of the most surreal weekends in a life filled with more than a few.

But! But they had a relatively decent lineup of music acts. During the after was the usual litany of local bands you’ve never heard of. The guys that got together to lay after work at whoever happened to give a garage. the ones who had a short-lived engagement at the Elks on the east side…and a B-list nostalgia act in the hopes of drawing in the Boomers like a tractor beam (The Tokens, in this case). Somehow, through all of this, DCFC managed to snag a prime evening spot… only to have it pour. When I tell you nothing went right at this event, I’m not exaggerating.

I don’t remember much about their set other than the absolutely fantastic cover they did of Julian Cope’s World Shut Your Mouth. Maybe it was just the right track at the right time, but man, did it hit!

There’s a clunky analogy in there somewhere, but DCFC records have always been a band that struck me as having 1-2 great tracks surrounded by a bunch of well-done and well-produced stuff you can’t remember 45 minutes later. In fact, ahead of going into this record, I can think of 5: the aforementioned cover, “Ghosts of Beverly Drive” (imo, their best), “You Are a Tourist,” “The Sound of Settling,” and the title track from Transatlanticism. All of these would come after 2001’s The Photo Album.

I played this while catching up on stuff around the house. On a practical level, this was the only time I really had to give it a listen, but I was also half hoping something would stop me in my tracks and maybe get me to sit down for a second to listen more closely. Dear reader, that didn’t happen. Again, this is a well-done, pleasant album. “I Was A Kaliedoscope” has a chord change/bridge thing that they very much used again when composing “Ghosts of Beverly Drive” (this is a good thing). The drum beat on “We Laugh Indoors” sounds like it was nicked from Phil Collins’ “Don’t Lose My Number” (a wild thing).

Mostly, this reminded me that a band I once thought of as crappy upstarts- the kind that would play a dead festival in the rain had become the sort of thing trustafarians at Reed College played when they wanted to come across as 10% edgier. Even a single power chord would have done wonders here. It’s very much ideal for the Lake Oswego set (not the best thing). I’m hammering this out after finishing my chores, and outside of “Kaleidoscope,” I can’t remember a whole lot else. Add that one to your playlists, and skip forward to Transatlanticism. There’s better stuff ahead.

Bottom Line: This is up against Sloan’s “Pretty Together.” By rights, this one should get my votes on the title’s wordplay alone. And so it shall be. Bracket pick was for DCFC, and today I’ll once again be voting against my own interests and going with our friends from north of the border.

Any thoughts on either this or any DCFC records? Agree/disagree with my take? Sound off in the comments!

Stephen Malkmus’ Solo Debut Feels Like the Next Pavement Album

by KevinLeave a Comment on Stephen Malkmus’ Solo Debut Feels Like the Next Pavement Album

Best Record of 2001: Day 39

Good morning!

Today we’re taking a look at Stephen Malkmus’ self-titled debut

Note: As many of you saw, I recently wrote about a Best Record of 2001 challenge and noted that I’d be writing some of these up.

The plan is to do quick hits on each first-round matchup and post them directly to the page. Some will be longer, some won’t, and some might just be a handful of sentences. There’ll probably be a few typos. We’ll also have a few guest posts along the way, so make sure to stay tuned for those!

Check ’em out and let me know your thoughts! Chin wags & hot takes welcome! Sharing and restacks always appreciated.

KA—

In 1999, indie rock legends Pavement went on hiatus. ultimately this break would stretch something like 20+ years, but it only took frontman Stephen Malkmus 18 months to get back in the saddle and drop a solo record.

The short version is this: his self-titled debut sounds like it could’ve very easily been the next record in the band’s discography. “A natural evolution from Terror Twilight!,” they’d all say. It’s as quirky as anything they ever put together, what with odd solos, fuzz in unexpected places, and lyrics that have you scrambling to Genius (or wherever) to confirm whether you actually heard what you thought you did.

Somewhere along the way, though, Malkmus decided to have…fun? He’s always been a bit of a gadabout, like the slightly off-kilter and always high guy that used to hang around the dorms. In other words, the indie aesthete personified. Now he’s a little older and wounded by a bunch of crappy gin and tonics. It’s not wholly refined, but it’s a good look.

I’m not saying this is sunshine pop, but look at any clip of Pavement back in the day: Mark Ibold looks like he’s having the time of his life. Maybe Bob a little too. Everyone else? Just seemed bummed AF to be there. I know performative misery was the style at the time, and maybe the joke leveled up and now flies over my head, but this feels much more earnest. Even when he’s at his most impish, it doesn’t feel like a front. I mean, there’s a vibraphone on here!

Maybe he had a “visited by three ghosts” moment or whatever, but it just feels like he’s relieved to be out doing his own thing and comfortable admitting he’s having fun doing it.

Pavement had their share of hooks, but Malkmus has gone all in on ’em here; the (perfectly titled) “The Hook” has a riff that’ll still be in your head this time tomorrow. Discretion Grove sounds like Fountains of Wayne doing a send-up of Pavement. It’s glorious. And on it goes.

Bottom Line: Malkmus is one of those artists who, even on the worst record, is still wildly entertaining. And what a breath of fresh air after yesterday’s claustrophobic ride through EDM, IDM, or whatever lipstick the hipsters are trying to slap on that Fennesz record.

Any thoughts on Pavement or this record? Agree/disagree with my take? Sound off in the comments!

The Sound of Nostalgia Breaking Down

by KevinLeave a Comment on The Sound of Nostalgia Breaking Down

Best Record of 2001: Day 38 | Fennesz ‘Endless Summer’

Good morning!

Today we’re taking a look at ‘Endless Summer’ by Fennesz.

Note: As many of you saw, I recently wrote about a Best Record of 2001 challenge and noted that I’d be writing some of these up.

The plan is to do quick hits on each first-round matchup and post them directly to the page. Some will be longer, some won’t, and some might just be a handful of sentences. There’ll probably be a few typos. We’ll also have a few guest posts along the way, so make sure to stay tuned for those!

Check ’em out and let me know your thoughts! Chin wags & hot takes welcome! Sharing and restacks always appreciated.

KA—

Somewhere deep in the pile of digital detritus otherwise known as my “photo library,” there is a great shot of one of my sons. He’s probably 6 or 7, and holding a wakeboard and jumping waves. He’s got a bucket hat on and is silhouetted against a Southern California sunset. It’s a photo I think every parent tries to take at some point. It’s not a particularly well-taken picture (me just getting him in the frame should be seen as a win), but it doesn’t really need to be. The sun and the Pacific are doing all the work here. To me, this picture is “summer,” it’s got sun, sea, and a family-sized dose of nostalgia. It’s that weird sort of frozen-in-time aspect that draws us in, and the ideas we attach to summer (no school, warmth, having fun) that keep drawing us back.

Later on, the timeline might fill with things like road trips, hot summer nights, or being out on the water. It never rains in these memories, and the music’s always good.

The Beach Boys built a whole ass career on this sort of thing.

The picture I just described matches the cover of Fennesz’ Endless Summer album. There’s silhouettes of people ostensibly on a beach. You can assume it’s warm (there’s no parkas in sight). You could, in fact, slip your own cover art in and not miss a beat. But that’s where the similarities end.

This is not a record of walls of sound or harmony. There’s barely any rhythm. In its place is a lot of cracking, bleeps, and bloops. In Fennesz’s world, the word languid doesn’t exist. Everything’s jittery, and everything skitters. Tracks have layer after layer, but the strata are fractured.

There are people who will stroke their chin and try to rationalize this sort of thing. These are the types of people who will look you dead in the eye and, with all the seriousness they can muster, tell you that there is some sort of deeper meaning here; that it’ll come to you if you just squint hard enough and lean in closer. There’ll be haughty tones galore as you’re told about “soundscapes” and creating an atmosphere.

I am not one of those people. Nor will I tell you that the music is happening in the space between the notes, or some other fakakta rationale. Sometimes people just like to play around in the studio and see what happens. There’s no need to assign a higher calling to it. Yes, music like this creates a mood; for me, that mood is usually agitation or mild annoyance. If I want to hear crackles, pops, and static, I’ll drag out an old record and play it. Calliopes belong on the deranged playgrounds in horror movies, not a record with surfers on the cover!

We tell ourselves those summers will never end, even though just the fact that we’re looking back on those days means they already have. Maybe that’s the allure of places like California, or just the beach in general.

And maybe that’s part of why this sort of record will never really resonate with me. Given a long enough timeline, everything is ephemeral. Those pictures come with their own built-in sunny soundtrack. Fennesz is showing us what happens as those pictures decay.

Bottom Line: This was up against Four Tet’s Pause album. That one didn’t exactly thrill me, either, but for my money, it’s definitely the better of the two. No pausing or second thoughts here; my bracket pick and vote are going to Four Tet.

Any thoughts on either of these records? Agree/disagree with my takes? Which one of these would you vote for? Sound off in the comments!

Aaliyah’s Red Album: A Break Out Record Frozen in Time.

by KevinLeave a Comment on Aaliyah’s Red Album: A Break Out Record Frozen in Time.

Best Record of 2001: Day 37

Good morning!

Today we’re taking a look at Aaliyah’s self-titled record, aka “The Red Album.”

Note: As many of you saw, I recently wrote about a Best Record of 2001 challengeand noted that I’d be writing some of these up.

The plan is to do quick hits on each first-round matchup and post them directly to the page. Some will be longer, some won’t, and some might just be a handful of sentences. There’ll probably be a few typos. We’ll also have a few guest posts along the way, so make sure to stay tuned for those!

Check ’em out and let me know your thoughts! Chin wags & hot takes welcome! Sharing and restacks always appreciated.

KA—

On August 25, 2001, a small plane crashed just after takeoff in the Bahamas, killing all 9 aboard. This event would likely have been lost to time had one Aaliyah Dana Haughton not been on the manifest.

In aviation, there are multiple layers of safety (the Swiss cheese approach). The idea being that if there is a hole somewhere, there’s another layer to stop things from getting through. Acting as one of those layers is a large part of my day job. It almost always works- there’s a reason we get to complain about things like bad food and long check-in lines and not planes falling out of the sky. There’s never just one single point of failure. But when the holes line up, disaster is usually inevitable. And in late August in Marsh Harbour, they did just that. I don’t want to go too inside baseball here, but almost everything that could go wrong here did. It’s maddening, tbh. If there’s a silver lining, it’s that this incident now serves as a great example of what not to do when it comes to flight safety and demonstrating preventive practices.

Just a few weeks prior, Aaliyah’s self-titled third album dropped. It was a turning point: a record poised to expand her reach beyond R&B’s borders. We didn’t know it yet, but it would also turn out to be the last we’d hear from her, the album now frozen in time as her final statement.

Working closely with Timbaland, Missy Elliott, and Static Major, Aaliyah leans into a hybrid of hip-hop, electropop, and soul. On this record, she’s cast off the New Jack Swing shackles of her previous two records (and R. Kelly, too, for that matter). “We Need a Resolution” wastes no time setting the tone—its stuttering rhythms and negative space give her voice room to glide. Elsewhere, “Rock the Boat” (they were returning from the video shoot when the crash occurred) slows things down into a lush, quiet storm anthem. It’s an all-timer, IMO. These two tracks are the album’s high points—both unmistakably “Aaliyah” and suggest an even greater artistic leap looming on the horizon. In a lot of ways, this reminds me of Janet Jackson’s “Control” album, right down to the red background on the cover.

Elsewhere, the record can feel uneven. There are stretches where the songwriting doesn’t quite match the sophisticated production (you can only pen songs about f**king so many different ways), and a few tracks blur together.

That said, it still makes for a compelling listen. Tracks like “I Can Be” experiment with distorted guitars and fragmented vocal loops, while “It’s Whatever” drifts into airy, soul. The record’s willingness to push at genre boundaries is undeniable—even when the results don’t fully land. I appreciate that she never feels like she has to oversell anything. She’s here, she’s singing, and that’s the deal.

Her death, just weeks after the album’s release, inevitably colors how it’s heard. Aaliyah captures an artist at an early peak, but I couldn’t help but think “what if?” while listening. In another universe, this would have been her breakout album- a statement record, if you will. Instead, it marks the end of life and a career cut down way too soon.

Bottom Line: This is up against Hope Sandoval. Both have incredible voices, and on paper, Sandoval would be my pick on the strength of her duet with The Jesus and Mary Chain alone. but the Red Album makes a compelling case. My bracket pick went to the late Ms. Haughton. My vote? Well, I’m not sure yet…

Any thoughts on either of these records? Agree/disagree with my takes? Which one of these would you vote for? Sound off in the comments!

What’re You Listening To?

by KevinLeave a Comment on What’re You Listening To?

The 2-lane highway from Portland’s western suburbs to the Oregon Coast was exactly 72 miles.

It usually took about an hour and a half. It was a little faster if traffic was light and we were in a fast car. Or a little longer if we were in my friend Matt’s VW bus. It never bothered us, though.

It’s hard to be in a hurry when the sun’s out and you’re with your friends.

No one ever felt the need to check their watch while moseying through the Coast Range listening to Bob Marley.

At this point, Marley’s “Legend” compilation record is the default reggae record. Even if you can’t name a single other title or artist, you invariably at least know this one. Released posthumously, it’s the best-selling reggae record of all time, racking up millions of copies sold as of this writing. At least a dozen of those sales were from us.

Is there any other record so closely associated with it’s genre?

Most of us wound up going deeper into Marley’s discography, but like so many others, “Legend” was our on-ramp to his music. There we’d be, singing, “Every little thing’s gonna be all right,” while the bus wheezed and gasped, struggling to carry us over the hills. We sang “get up stand up” and would wind up doing just that through the years. The Bush family derisively referred to Portland as “Little Beirut.” We wore it as a badge of honor.

But over on the left side of the map, those concerns were a million miles away- our only worries being gas money and hitting spots like Indian Beach.

Today, we remember Marley on the 45th anniversary of his passing.

Four decades plus is a long time to have been gone from this life, yet Marley’s music & vision resonate now more than ever.

If we want every little thing to be all right, we need to get up and stand up.

This week’s list has factory fresh tracks from BODEGA, Nightbus, Onesie, and Taxi Girls, and well as the usual sonic comfort food and deep cuts.

Side A is tracks 1-14 (ends with “The Barbeque Party”). Side B is tracks 15-27.

On to the music…

KA—

Other sources: Apple | Qobuz | YouTube Music |


Now it’s your turn.

Any new releases or shows you’re looking forward to? Whatcha got? Share your thoughts in the comments!

Bright Flight Finds David Berman at His Most Spartan, and Most Vulnerable

by KevinLeave a Comment on Bright Flight Finds David Berman at His Most Spartan, and Most Vulnerable

On the Silver Jews’ 4th record, David Berman turns country influence into something wry, spare, and strangely intimate.

Good morning!

Today we’re taking a quick look at Silver Jews’ Bright Flight

Note: As many of you saw, I recently wrote about a Best Record of 2001 challengeand noted that I’d be writing some of these up.

The plan is to do quick hits on each first-round matchup and post them directly to the page. Some will be longer, some won’t, and some might just be a handful of sentences. There’ll probably be a few typos. We’ll also have a few guest posts along the way, so make sure to stay tuned for those!

Check ’em out and let me know your thoughts! Chin wags & hot takes welcome! Sharing and restacks always appreciated.

KA—

David Berman strikes me as someone who could spend a week fussing over a line or turn of phrase, the kind of writer who sets an impossibly high bar for himself and then plays it off, trying to convince the world none of it matters. That contradiction is at the fore on Bright Flight, a record made in Nashville, a city fueled today by polish and sounds ready-made for radio by people whose idea of a pickup is an $80,000 monstrosity that never leaves the pavement. This is not Berman’s Nashville, and these are not his people. He’s much more at home among the rogues’ gallery of characters in the city’s underbelly, yet his lyrical skill is as good as anyone at the song factory that dots the city.

The record is filled with stories that are relatable and ones that likely only make sense in his head. Put simply, these are some of the best words he ever put to paper. Listening to a Silver Jews record always feels a little voyeuristic, like we’ve swiped his journal and are reading by flashlight.

Musically, this is one of the most spare records he put to tape. That’s by design. In Berman’s world, “going country” isn’t about big sounds or high production. Everything has an intentionally amateur quality to it; there’s some dirt on the lens. It’s also the first Silver Jews album on which his wife, Cassie, makes an appearance.

Nashville has certainly left its mark. “Run Away with Me, Darlin’” is country 101, and “Tennessee” meets the textbook definition, but only someone like him could drop a line like “Come to Tennessee / ’Cause you’re the only 10 I see” and not have me spraining my eyes from rolling them too hard. His cover of “Friday Night Fever” is far enough removed from George Strait’s original that you’d be excused for not knowing it wasn’t an original.

We all know how this story ends, but before Berman’s mid-air breakup, Bright Flight gave us some of the finest Silver Jews songs to date.

Bottom Line: Bright Flight is up against Princess Superstar’s Is, another artist I’d never heard of, and whose record turned out to be a godamned delight. My bracket pick went to Silver Jews, but tbh, had I listened to Is ahead of time, you might’ve been reading a different sentence. Either way, either of these will be fun to talk about in Round 2.

Any thoughts on either of these records? Agree/disagree with my takes? Which one of these would you vote for? Sound off in the comments!