The Best Record of 1989: Day 36

by Kevin1 Comment on The Best Record of 1989: Day 36

34 Bonnie Raitt, Nick of Time vs. #95 The Field Mice, Snowball

Good morning!

Today we’re taking a look at records from Bonnie Raitt and The Field Mice

Note: As many of you know, I recently wrote about a Best Record of 1989 challenge and noted that I’d be occasionally writing some of these up.

I’ve started doing some quick hits of each matchup and posting them directly to the page. Some will be longer, some won’t, and some might just be a handful of sentences. There’ll probably definitely be some typos.

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

KA—

Blockbuster…Comeback…Second Act…Phoenix-like. These are all descriptors for Bonnie Raitt’s Nick of Time record, and they’re all words you’ve read before. You won’t have to reread them here, but I think it’s important to note just how much that idea of starting new colors this record. Raitt was recently sober, out of a relationship1, and looking for a new label.

Capitol took a chance on her, signing her to a smaller-scale deal. It became a hit, and the rest, they say, is history. It’s a great story! Plenty of friends came along for the ride (Herbie Hancock, half of CSNY, etc.), and a Hiatt cover is always a good thing (“Thing Called Love”).

But here’s the deal; at this point, it wasn’t a comeback.

After all, if you’ve never had a hit, what are you coming back to?

Most people will recognize “The Thing Called Love,” the sultry title track, and “Have a Heart.” Today, the latter is a regular on your local grocery store’s playlist, but in 1989, it was everywhere. These three are solid and make an excellent case for the record. But she really shines on lesser-known tracks like “Real Man” and “The Road’s My Middle Name.” The latter is your standard blues that Raitt’s voice is made for.

By this point, Raitt had been through it and was ready for a new chapter. Free from high expectations (or really any expectations at all), Raitt could be herself and sing about the things on her mind. On the title track, Raitt sings, Life gets mighty precious when there’s less of it to waste. With Nick of Time, she made a record that sounds timeless. Yell “Noonan!” all you want; Raitt’s not gonna miss here.

If Raitt was at least a known quantity, The Field Mice were the exact opposite. I’d never heard of them, let alone this record.

No vocals for the first couple of minutes is a choice. It’s also maybe not the best one if you’re making a pop record in 1989, but what do I know? Maybe they were “doing it for the art,” or whatever.

Snowball is charming, I suppose. If you like softer side jangle pop, this’ll check a lot of boxes. I suspect that whoever nominated this did so out of an outsized sense of nostalgia. This could have reminded them of grad school (or the British equivalent) and a love that lasted only until graduation. Most of us have one of those, right?

Otherwise, the record is serviceable enough. As noted, there’s some pleasant jangle on here, and some fun bits of twee pop. Kinda feels like The Housemartins meets Prefab Sprout. But in 1989, there were quite a few better records to pick from, even within this subgenre.

My vote: Gimme some full throated blues from someone who’s seen some things any day. My bracket pick and vote will both be going to Bonne Raitt.

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!

Check out the full bracket here.

Info on the tourney, voting, and more is here.

As always, thanks for being here.

KA—

The Best Record of 1989: Day 35

by KevinLeave a Comment on The Best Record of 1989: Day 35

#31 Ministry, The Mind Is a Terrible Thing to Taste vs. #98 Sepultura, Beneath the Remains

Good morning!

Today we’re taking a look at records from Ministry and Sepultura

Note: As many of you know, I recently wrote about a Best Record of 1989 challenge and noted that I’d be occasionally writing some of these up.

I’ve started doing some quick hits of each matchup and posting them directly to the page. Some will be longer, some won’t, and some might just be a handful of sentences. There’ll probably definitely be some typos.

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

KA—

I’m very much in the “Make Ministry synth pop again!” camp, but also loved The land of R*pe and Honey. I also had no reason to be angry about anything, but teenage angst is funny that way, I guess.

At any rate, earlier this year, frontman Al Jourgenson decided to listen to the masses (or his accountant) and put out The Squirrelly Years Revisited, a remaking/refresh of those early records.

Writing about it I noted,

In May of 1983, Ministry recorded With Sympathy. Frontman Al Jourgenson then spent the ensuing years telling anyone who’ll listen that it’s awful. If the “Make Ministry synthpop again “memes are anything to go by, many people never go to the memo. They’re also now getting what they want…kind of.

After With Sympathy, Ministry recorded Twitch and then began releasing a series of industrial and metal records, both as Ministry and with side projects like Revolting Cocks. All well and good until you make the same record several times in a row. The first time you hear a record like The Land of Rape and Honey, it’s amazing. But it only takes a few records to see that Jourgenson was on autopilot. For me, it was like the music version of the law of diminishing marginal returns.

Sometimes I wonder if with each passing record, Jourgenson was trying to get further and further away from those early releases. But here’s the thing: people liked records like With Symptahy and Twitch—at least where I lived, anyway. And even today, the coolest people I know still work “Every Day is Halloween” into their October playlists.

The Mind Is a Terrible Thing to Taste feels like him in a full sprint. It’s a great fusion of thrash, metal, and industrial. It’s bruising and the sort of record that is either perfect for channeling the misdirected anger you have in your life, or leaves you feeling like you’ve been in a bar fight. Better this than punching a wall or running red lights. The riffs are jagged, the beats pulverizing. It’s like taking the hardest parts of Skinny Puppy and dialing them up (they too would experiment with “louder, faster, more!” soon enough). The best parts of the record are where Jourgenson seamlessly blends industrial and metal elements. Tracks like “So What” are almost-almost!- Dance floor ready. You can run, but you can’t hide.

If nothing else, it serves as a decent enough vehicle for escape. Speaking of which, it’s worth noting that Jourgenson was absolutely off his rocker on drugs at this point.

At any rate, with each Ministry record, I grew further away from them while also (ironically) more into the Ministry adjacent bands like RevCo, and Murder Inc. Go figure. Listening to this again feels like falling into a time machine where I’m again fretting about acne, some girl, and god knows what else.

Pity my friend Mark. He is responsible for so much of my music discovery. He tried so hard to get me into Sepultura. This was literally a decades-long project. And yet, it was all for naught. It took a bracket challenge on Bluesky of all places to finally get me to listen to them.

And look, this record rips! If you’re a metal fan, you’ll love it. It’s in the same wheelhouse as LPs like Metallica’s Kill’ Em All and even Suicidal Tendencies. Perfect for ripping along back roads at 110 mph. Best played loud and not on a pair of work speakers at 8 AM, but you do what you gotta do. if I had to name a pull track, “Inner self” would do the trick.

All in all, a solid outing! A cursory glance online says that this is also a fan favorite, so there’s that.

I wouldn’t have much minded this as a teenager, but I likely would have only gone as far as getting a copy from someone. Maybe. I was just too far gone into other genres to dig this. Besides, a lot of the same people listening to this in ‘89 were the ones throwing me into lockers during passing time. Sorry, Marky, but I’m going to pass.

My vote: Chicago > Belo Horizonte. Would love to hear what you think!

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!

Check out the full bracket here.

Info on the tourney, voting, and more is here.

As always, thanks for being here.

KA—

The Best Record of 1989: Day 34

by KevinLeave a Comment on The Best Record of 1989: Day 34

63 The Primitives, Pure vs. #66 Bob Dylan, Oh Mercy

Good morning!

Today we’re taking a look at records from the Primitives and Bob Dylan

Note: As many of you know, I recently wrote about a Best Record of 1989 challenge and noted that I’d be occasionally writing some of these up.

I’ve started doing some quick hits of each matchup and posting them directly to the page. Some will be longer, some won’t, and some might just be a handful of sentences. There’ll probably definitely be some typos.

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

KA—

Pure is The Primitives’ sophomore record, following Lovely (home of the hit “Crash”). They’re often lazily categorized as “pop,” though I’d say any Venn diagram should include pop, power pop, and new wave. On this release, I might add a smaller circle for psychedelia.

This record is a sign of the time, and no one was impervious to the “Madchester” sound. You can hear bits and pieces of it worked in throughout the record. Pure is an album loaded for bear with lethal hooks and jangly guitars— all supporting Tracy Tracy’s distinct vocals. This makes for a solid if disposable batch of pop songs.

Here’s the thing, though; things get interesting when the band starts playing further afield- I’m thinking specifically of the tapping into that experimental psychedelia, but more importantly, tracks where guitarist PJ Court takes over on vox. Maybe it’s because it’s an unexpected change, but I found those tracks to be the record’s highlights. You would be excused for mistaking “All The Way Down” for a Jesus and Mary Chain track. “I Almost Touched You” sounds like (insert your fave Madchester band here), but is still a fun listen.

Ultimately, this record was a pleasant diversion. Certainly not unforgettable, and unlikely something I’ll reach for again, but with a couple of tracks that’ll probably wind up on a playlist or two at some point.

Kinda like a lot of the Manchester bands of the era.

As soon as I saw this record made the cut, I knew this was coming.

I know that no matter what I write, no matter how many angels sing, I will get at least one reply telling me that it wasn’t enough, that I hadn’t quite prostrated myself correctly at the feet of Dylan. And how dare I?

There will invariably be some invective telling me to go F myself as well. Which, ok. I mean, I get it. This is a man people love dearly. He could read the phone book, and someone, somewhere, would laud it. Someone else would pore over the lyrics with a Talmudic intensity, searching for hidden meaning from our Minnesota magi.

I am not one of those people.

I can respect the love people have for him. I find his influence on music and pop culture interesting. But I have to be in the mood—I mean, really in the mood—to hear some Dylan, and even then, it’s limited to small doses. My runaway favorite song is this version of “Jokerman,” and most of that is because he’s playing with The Plugz.

He made a Christian rock record, and it didn’t go down well. My first thought was that this was another helping of that, and a sermon from Bob Dylan was absolutely not something I needed.

Cueing up opener “Political World” made defaulting to all my preconceptions easy. I vaguely remember hearing it, and wondered if I’d found it as pedestrian then as I did today. We talked about Lou Reed’s New York recently, and all I could think of was how much better he did the “The world is shit” bit better with his “Dirty Blvd.” track.

(sigh)

But a funny thing happened on the next track (“Where Teardrops Fall”); I found myself almost… enjoying it? What was happening here?! “Everything Is Broken” has an easy rhythm and groove that is even better. Was I…was I digging a Dylan record? Order was restored with “Ring Them Bells,” a ballad that did absolutely nothing for me. It’s nice, I guess. I’m sure one of the reply guys has this on their funeral playlist. That’s fine, too. “Man in the Long Black Coat” felt vaguely Biblical, like he hadn’t quite moved past the idea of witnessing to all of us. It’s also got about 12m listens on Spotify as I type this, so clearly someone, somewhere digs it.

Ultimately, Oh Mercy breaks a streak of some awful records, even by his standards. That’s a notch in the win column. Daniel Lanois and the musicians did well to create a soothing and uneasy atmosphere (depending on the track).

Compared to his other records, I found this to be pretty good! Not bad, even! But it’s still not something I’d proactively reach for. And it’ll never beat that version of “Jokerman.”

I’ll see you in my inbox.

My vote: The winner here meets Paul’s Boutique in the next round, so any victory’ll be short-lived. My bracket pick played to my confirmation bias (80s kid energy vs. Ok Boomer vibes). But after listening again, my vote today’ll likely go to Dylan. Would love to hear what you think!

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!

Check out the full bracket here.

Info on the tourney, voting, and more is here.

As always, thanks for being here.

KA—

The Best Record of 1989: Day 33

by KevinLeave a Comment on The Best Record of 1989: Day 33

2 Beastie Boys, Paul’s Boutique vs. #127 Cardiacs, On Land and in the Sea

Good morning!

Today we’re taking a look at records from Beastie Boys and Cardiacs

Note: As many of you know, I recently wrote about a Best Record of 1989 challenge and noted that I’d be occasionally writing some of these up.

I’ve started doing some quick hits of each matchup and posting them directly to the page. Some will be longer, some won’t, and some might just be a handful of sentences. There’ll probably definitely be some typos.

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

KA—

Last fall, Sam Colt and I took on the absurd fun idea of writing up our respective Top 100 lists. We started at 100, and over several weeks worked out way to the top. I’ll say only this; Paul’s Boutique made it’s appearance pretty late in the game. Felt strange trying to describe what is best described as the band’s magnum opus, but below is/was my attempt.

Around the time this came out, a guy was something of an extra in the movie of my life. He was a DJ, and I’d see him everywhere. Tower Records, house parties, on the street; you name it. I lived in a suburb, but it wasn’t that small. He would refer to himself as “{your] hip hop connection” and hand us a business card, which I guess was the late 80s way of building a brand. I dunno. But he was really good at turning people on to new records. One of them was Paul’s Boutique.

Running into him on the street, he was evangelical about the record, almost begging us to buy it and see for ourselves. I did…and was promptly disappointed. In hindsight, I should‘ve known a DJ would talk up a record built on samples- so many, in fact, that a lot of them are almost unrecognizable. But I was expecting/half hoping for a License to Ill PT II. That, of course, wasn’t going to happen. Time and the band had moved on.

What we got instead was nothing the world had ever seen. MCA hadn’t yet gone full monk, but he was already cooler than a cucumber in a bowl of hot sauce. Tracks like “Shake Your Rump” show Ad-Rock and Mike D largely dropping the frat boy bit but none of their swagger. For anyone looking for “Brass Monkey” or a similar ditty about chasing girls, “Hey Ladies” will have to do. “Sounds of Science” is still a banger. “Looking Down The Barrel of a Gun” feels like an homage to the Cookie Puss days. This is a hip-hop record, but they were a band first.

It took me a while, but I came around to his record. Several months later, I was at a party where my DJ friend was spinning wax. He played “Sounds of Science,” and the place came alive. Later that night, we were outside smoking, and I told them I loved the record. “Man, I told you!” he said, “If you ever need a DJ, let me know,” pressing yet another business card into my hand.

Thirty-something years later, my son tagged along with me to our local record store. He liked rap and was looking for what would be his first vinyl buy. I sold him on Paul’s Boutique the same way I had been all those years—and miles—ago. He walked out the door with a copy.

If listening to Paul’s Boutique made me feel 10 times cooler, playing On Land and in the Sea did the opposite. I know there’s a whole world of fans out there that dig this sort of thing, but it just felt like a bit that would show up on an episode of The Young Ones. Something Vyv would love and something Mike the Cool Person wouldn’t touch. Rick would go predictably berserk, and Neil would say something out of pocket about carrots, or whatever. Hijinks ensue! Yawn.

My vote: Is there any question? A record that upended a whole genre for the better, or one that had me looking for some Anacin? Paul’s Boutique. All day.

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!

Check out the full brackethere.

Info on the tourney, voting, and more is here.

As always, thanks for being here.

KA—

The Best Record of 1989: Day 32

by KevinLeave a Comment on The Best Record of 1989: Day 32

44 Soundgarden, Louder Than Love vs. #85 Skid Row, Skid Row

Good morning!

Today we’re taking a look at records from Soundgarden and Skid Row

Note: As many of you know, I recently wrote about a Best Record of 1989 challenge and noted that I’d be occasionally writing some of these up.

I’ve started doing some quick hits of each matchup and posting them directly to the page. Some will be longer, some won’t, and some might just be a handful of sentences. There’ll probably definitely be some typos.

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

KA—

Earlier this year, I used a piece of lawn furniture I once owned to make the case that Soundgarden belonged in the rock and roll hall of fame, noting:

I was also recently doing some purging and found a picture with some friends at Portland International Raceway from that same era. We were there for an Indy Car race before that weird split fractured all open-wheel racing in the U.S. into god-knows-what.

In that (unfiltered, thankyouverymuch) picture, most likely taken with a disposable camera, are three of us who have had just a little too much to drink and have definitely had too much sun. The fourth thing in the frame was a chair named “Full On Kevin’s Chair,” after the Soundgarden song.

This track is from the band’s Louder Than Love LP, a record that sounds best turned up to 11.

There is a notion that bands from the NW were writing more innovative music than their heavy metal counterparts- that the music was somehow smarter. As someone from that part of the world, I’m happy enough to go along with that. But the reality is that Soundgarden wasn’t exactly singing about the global south or scientific breakthroughs.

They were (often) making songs about sex and not exactly being abstract about it. Just look at “Hands All Over,” the aforementioned “Full on Kevin’s Mom,” and Big Dumb Sex (a piss take on heavy metal/glam rock bands like today’s opponent). For the latter, if the title wasn’t a giveaway, one only needs to play the chorus (and maybe not at work).

Mostly, though, it was a record begging to be played loud. It was never about the words, anyway, was it? It was about the sound full of bludgeoning riffs and concussive beats that you feel so much as you hear. Frontman Chris Cornell would go on to earn a bit of heartthrob status, and the band would go on to hit great heights and worldwide fame. But in 1989, they just wanted to rawk. Mission accomplished.

The first green shoots of grunge on the Left Coast were in some part a response to glam metal and bands like Skid Row. After all, Soundgarden couldn’t have made a parody song if the “real” version hadn’t first existed.

In Skid Row’s case, somewhere under all that spandex and Aqua Net (so much Aqua Net), was a band that at least superficially was earnest. Soundgarden was making carols about fucking with a wink and a smile. In New Jersey, Skid Row didn’t bother with any such artifice. For all the yowls and whirring guitars, even the ballads like “I Remember You” and the cautionary tale “18 and Life” feel plaintive, innocent even. At the other end, there were rippers like “Big Guns” and “Youth Gone Wild,” a track which thumped out of many a speaker in my part of the world before we all learned that hip-hop was the genre best suited to rumble out of our trunks.

Stylistically, if Soundgarden didn’t easily fit in any box, Skid Row took the best parts of bands like Def Leppard and put their own spin on them. And we haven’t even got to the band’s secret weapon: Sebastien Bach. His penchant for being over the top works in the record’s favor and doesn’t overpower the music- it lifts it up. When it worked, it worked (18 and Life, Big Guns, I Remember You).

In between, though, were some tracks that were just sort of okay. Some filler was par for the course, but it takes what could’ve been a great review and leaves it as merely good. But Youth Gone Wild sure still sounds good blaring out of a car stereo, even if that car is now a station wagon in the suburban Midwest.

My vote: I’ve got to stay true to my Best Coast roots here. And besides did Skid Row ever inspire someone to rename a lawn chair? I think not. My bracket and vote will both go to Soundgarden.

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!

heck out the full bracket here.

Info on the tourney, voting, and more is here.

As always, thanks for being here.

KA—

The Best Record of 1989: Day 31

by KevinLeave a Comment on The Best Record of 1989: Day 31

#21 Lou Reed, New York vs. #108 Tone Lōc, Lōc-ed After Dark

Good morning!

Today we’re taking a look at records from Lou Reed and Tone Loc.

Note: As many of you know, I recently wrote about a Best Record of 1989 challenge and noted that I’d be occasionally writing some of these up.

I’ve started doing some quick hits of each matchup and posting them directly to the page. Some will be longer, some won’t, and some might just be a handful of sentences. There’ll probably definitely be some typos.

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

KA—

By the time the late 80s rolled around, Lou Reed was on something of a downswing- I say this not with the backing of any empirical information, but rather the prevailing mindset of people in my circle and what I was hearing on the radio/MTV.

The Velvet Underground still carried emeritus status -and some people were into their records because that’s just what you were supposed to have in the crate. If your parents had a copy? That telegraphed a sense of coolness you couldn’t buy. But by 89, VU was something from the past. It would eventually become my fave record of his, but New Sensations (great!) had been followed with Mistrial (not so much).

Say what you will about Reed, but he’s certainly willing to transform himself and his style. If Mistrial was an attempt at creating a synthetic version, New York was about a return to basics–and nothing says “return to basics” like a record about your hometown.

New York in the 1980s was beset by socioeconomic ills—AIDs, crack, and more. The big apple was rotting, and Reed was right under the tree. He did the only thing he could—he wrote some of the best songs of his career.

It’s worth noting the irony that the same person who sang “Sister Ray” and “I’m Waiting for the Man” is penning polemics about the scourge of drugs. But times change, and people do, too.

The songs on New York are over-indexed on pop/rock. Reed has some things on his mind, and 1989 was not the time for a field trip into Metal Machine Music territory or whatever esoteric pursuits he might’ve wanted to follow. Instead, we get one of the most straightforward records in the catalog.

“There is no Time is a ripper” (that’s a sentence I never thought I’d type about a Reed song), and plenty of tracks come as close as Reed’s gonna get to pop as well. “Dirty Blvd.” is the story of a kid growing up in a hotel and wound up hitting #1 on the Billboard Modern Rock charts…and that might not even be the 2nd or 3rd best track on the record.

I’m mindful that many people rank Reed higher than they might otherwise because of his– and VU’s–status in the rock canon. Fair enough, but fair play to Reed- when he’s on, he’s on, and this is a helluva record.

Reed might have once been down, but he was never out—and neither was the city (or people) he sang about.

Whoever nominated Tone Loc’s Loc-ed After Dark must either have A: Been waxing nostalgic, or B: just returned from a cruise.

I vote for B since artists like Tone Loc always find a second life on such excursions. Your mom, dad, (or grandparents!) relive the wild parts of their youth while also wearing wristbands, entitling them to an endless buffet and bottomless drinks. No house party here. No pre-planning on which backyard fence to jump if need be. It’s a very curated sort of hedonism.

While Reed was writing about cities falling apart, Loc was penning tracks about clothes coming off and any other sort of tawdry thing you can imagine. Pop culture was full of big hair and small bikinis. Some of the biggest stars weren’t even people—they were dogs used to sell beer…and it worked.

This being 1989, outsized guitar riffs weren’t entirely out of style- indeed, they were just what many of us were still clamoring for, and a well-placed Van Halen riff propping up verses easy to sing along to when drunk made for a winning recipe, which makes the case for option B. Time sweetens all memories, and we remember the good parts of the parties, not the mornings after or the gouges on one ‘s leg that came from picking the wrong fence. Cruise lines, too, have figured this out, and these have become a cash grab, with just about any genre you want available on the high seas.

With the benefit of hindsight, Loc-ed After Dark is derivative. He’s got a unique voice…until you realize that so did the DOC (note: I’m not calling either out for WHY their voices are the way they are- only noting the similarities).

His flow is fine…until you remember that Rakim exists.

Ditto Slick Rick when it comes to the writing itself. Even the cover art pips Donald Byrd’s New Perspective album.

And there’s a bit of trans and/or homophobia worked in on “Funky Cold Medina,” because, of course, there is. I wonder if Nana and Papa will still sing along with that line on the main deck?

So what’s good about this record? For one, the sampling. The Dust Brothers are on the boards and brought a big-ass crate into the studio. “Funky Cold Medina” alone pulls from no less than six tracks. “Cutting Rhythms,” seven. And for the latter, the roster ranges from Steely Dan to Juice to Wings (!). Anytime you’re surprised and delighted by a sample is a good thing, and it’s a notch in the win column for Loc-ed After Dark, but it’s not enough to overcome the dated way the album sounds. It’s enough to make me want to miss my Joe Camel t-shirts.

Bottom Line: Both records represent the bipolar nature of 1989 well. It was truly a “best of times, worst of times” situation, and what side you were on depended on a lot of factors you likely had no control over. One record telegraphs that you were cool in a hipster sorta way in ’89, while the other says you were a lout. And for a lot of us, given how blurred those lines got, we were both. That said, one record holds up well in 2025, while the other feels like I’m watching a beer ad while clipping Marlboro Miles.

My vote: Start spreading the news; My vote and my bracket pick are going to Lou Reed’s New York.

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!

Check out the full bracket here.

Info on the tourney, voting, and more is here.

As always, thanks for being here.

KA—

The Best Record of 1989: Day 30

by KevinLeave a Comment on The Best Record of 1989: Day 30

#53 Operation Ivy, Energy vs #76 Ciccone Youth, The Whitey Album

Good morning!

Today we’re taking a look at records from an antecedent of Rancid, and a Sonic Youth side project.

Note: As many of you know, I recently wrote about a Best Record of 1989 challenge and noted that I’d be occasionally writing some of these up.

I’ve started doing some quick hits of each matchup and posting them directly to the page. Some will be longer, some won’t, and some might just be a handful of sentences. There’ll probably definitely be some typos.

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

KA—

The strip mall Babylon I grew up in was punctuated with subdivisions that only kinda connected with one another. You could get there, but winding up on a new street sometimes felt like you needed a passport. Meeting in shared spaces like the Chevron parking lot or the local elementary school was much easier. The latter had a huge covered area–this was Oregon, after all– that lent itself nicely to skating during the off hours. Invariably, someone would bring a boombox and something like Operation Ivy would soundtrack the session. My block had a taste for bands like Jawbreaker, while the next subdivision over fell in love with 3rd wave ska like this.

Like many bands of the era, Operation Ivy burned fast and burned quickly, which often makes me wonder if that brevity leads to more of a legacy than might otherwise be warranted, similar to the way Joy Division is lionized. Like our friends from Manchester, Op Ivy was only around for a couple of years and really only released one full-length record (there was also Hectic, an EP, but I digress).

Similarly, some of the band members went on to relative fame after the dissolution of this one, with Tim “Lint” Armstrong and Matt Freeman moving on to help form Rancid.

The record is loud, fast, and brash. Think of Ranicd before; some of the edges were sanded off. They were a little bit messy and had minimal low-end. Jesse Michael’s voice sounds like he’s living on a steady diet of Marlboros and fast livin’. This was just how we liked it. The lyrics covered the usual bases (love, F authority, etc.), all with a beat going 100 mph. Think a sped-up version of the Clash.

It’s also worth noting that this record hit in the very narrow sweetspot before purity tests and gatekeepers took back over; no one bothered to tell them that they weren’t playing ska “correctly,’ or that it wasn’t fast (or angry) enough to be punk. They did their own thing, fused the two, and let’er rip. If you’re new to this record, start with “Soundsystem” and go from there. You might also recognize opener “Knowledge” from Green Day’s cover of it.

Energy is a solid record that lends (lends?) itself well to those sorts of drives that go nowhere on purpose or an afternoon skating session on an unseasonably sunny fall Saturday. It’s a landmark album of third-wave ska/ska-punk that inspired many bands that went on to far greater levels of fame than they enjoyed.

Operation Ivy walked so Green Day could run.

There’s no shortage of bands that are essentially Sonic Youth tribute bands. Nothing wrong with that, but I’m always more interested in what Sonic Youth were into. What ingredients went into the sound that ultimately influenced so many?

I don’t have a full list, but at one point, they were into Madonna enough to record a few tracks for a tribute record that never came to pass. But the band wasn’t about to leave those on the shelf. The result? One of the oddest side projects of the day: The Whitey Album by Ciccone Youth (Madge’s legal last name).

I vaguely recall reading that SY had all their gear stolen at one point. That’s bad enough on its own, but I knew from seeing them that they used some instruments for a specific song or even a specific effect. Again, going off of memory, but I could swear some were described as things like “the one used with a screwdriver.” (EDIT: I found a list and a plea from Lee Ranaldo for its safe return.)

I mention this because, at first, The Whitey Album feels like the sorts of odds and ends that can only come from noodling around in the studio and testing things out. The first couple of tracks are full of odd snippets and sounds that never quite arrive at being fully formed. There’s even a full minute of silence (the aptly titled “Silence”).

“G-Force” is one of those tracks where Kim Gordon does something resembling a rant or poetry slam. Dealer’s choice. In other words, something only Sonic Youth can get away with. That’s all good, but like on their other records, it can feel like a toll you need to pay to gain access to the good stuff.

And The Whitey Album does have a couple of those nuggets. Their version of “Burnin’ Up” is a slowed-down, louche version. It’s great. It’s also something only this band could pull off. “Into the Groovey” is about as faithful a rendition as you’re gonna get here, mainly due to sampling the original. “Tuff Titty Rap” is a nod to old school hip hop and feels like the band had two too many margaritas before trying to karaoke something off of LL Cool J’s Walking With a Panther, getting just far enough in before the Dj cut the mic.

“Too Cool Rock Chicks Listening to Neu” might be the most niche title we see in the first round, and I’m here for it (not so much the song, though).

So! What to make of all this, exactly? In some ways, The Whitey Album feels like an inside like four friends are all in on, and in others like something best left in the studio. It’s too earnest to be a joke album, yet too joke-y to be regarded as a regular album. Is it satire? Is it art? You can never be sure with Sonic Youth, but you’re better off for having experienced it. And maybe that’s the point.

Bottom Line: If The Whitey Album was labeled as a Sonic Youth Record, I think it would sail through primarily on name recgontion. Similarly, if the name Operation Ivy had been replaced with the band’s logo, it would’ve punched above its weight. I love both these bands, and nostalgia admittedly plays into that. I am lucky to have both seen SY play and been turned onto Operation Ivy by the older kids in my circle.

That said, Energy holds up way better than The Whitey Album. Sure, once you’ve heard one song, you’ve (more or less) heard them all, but I happen to like those songs, and I think that outweighs The Whitey Album’s coming across more as an experiment than anything else.

My vote: My bracket pick and vote will be going to Operation Ivy.

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!

Check out the full bracket here.

Info on the tourney, voting, and more is here.

As always, thanks for being here.

KA—

New Order’s ‘Technique’ | A Quick Look at the Band’s Seminal 1989 Record

by KevinLeave a Comment on New Order’s ‘Technique’ | A Quick Look at the Band’s Seminal 1989 Record

On their fifth release the dance rock pioneers hit their peak

Album art courtesy of Qwest Records

Good Morning!

Today we’re taking another quick look at ‘Technique’ by New Order as it takes on Billy Joel’s Storm Front on Day 29 of the Best Record of 1989 Challenge.

There’s not much point in burying the lede here; this lookback won’t come close to being objective. If you’ve been with us for more than a few weeks, you know my love for this band and are keenly aware that On Repeat Records could devolve into a New Order fan page at any moment.

That said, this record is a massive achievement for the band at a time when not much else was going right for them-certainly not internally, anyway. To put something out amidst so much strife and financial pressure alone would be worth noting. That it is some of the best work they’ve ever produced makes it all the more remarkable.

Most people will remember March 24th, 1989, as the date the Exxon Valdez ran aground. I remember walking to the closest shopping mall to get tickets to see New Order.

That was the closest Ticketmaster outlet, and I was probably halfway down the street before my mom had even finished giving me permission. With the benefit of hindsight — and now being a parent myself — I now know what a huge leap of faith this must’ve been for her. We lived in the suburbs, and she was giving the green light to an (almost) 14 yr. old to ride the bus across the metro area to see a band she heard nonstop but didn’t know.

I suppose on some level you just know when to let your kids leap.

The band was on the road supporting their 5th studio album, Technique, and it came out when I was in junior high. The record was one of the bright spots in an otherwise blah era for me.

If Low Life is a show at an intimate venue, Technique is a sweaty rave filled with strobe lights and ecstasy. Indeed, the record was partly recorded in Ibiza with the band off their rockers. Technique is firmly rooted in the sounds surrounding them in their new environs. They choose the sunny locale at Hook’s insistence after a run of recordings made in “dark and horrible” London studios. The band decamped for Ibiza, hoping the change in scenery (and menu of drugs) would have the same positive effect that New York had had for them years earlier.

It worked…sort of…

After four months, the band only had ‘Fine Time’ and a couple of other tracks recorded to show for their time on the island. Declaring their holiday over, their label called them back to the UK, where they finished the record at Peter Gabriel’s Real World Studios.

We had expected to hear a lot of acid house music when we got to Ibiza because that had taken off in Manchester two to three months before we left, but we didn’t – we were hearing something called Balearic Beat,” Bernard said.We were actually disappointed at first because we were really into acid house, and what we heard, this Balearic Beat, was this crazy mash-up of styles and really commercial-sounding but there was also some really good stuff. By the end of our time there we were really influenced by it.

Their time in the sun may seem unproductive on the surface, but it had left an indelible mark on the group’s sound.

Fine Time is an acid-house Balearic Beat classic. Round and Round1 is pop perfection and saw decent airtime on MTV.

Run is credited to not only New Order, but also (*checks notes) John Denver?!

Yes, really. Denver sued the band, alleging that the guitar riffs were lifted from his Leaving On a Jet Plane.The case was settled out of court, with his name subsequently added to the credits.

A mediocre picture of the fantastic ‘Fine Time’ 12”. Photo by author.

We could do a track-by-track breakdown, but the short version is this: Technique feels like the band’s most honest record. Whether that’s down to the drugs or the Balearic sun, I don’t know. In the end, I suppose it doesn’t matter.

Perhaps more importantly, it is economical. Listening to it, every note has its place, and there is nothing extraneous. It’s both a dance record and a pop record—in other words, a New Order record—but listening to it, there is a discipline that sets it apart from the band’s previous work.

The songs themselves are compact; the sequencers nailed down— there is no 9-minute version of anything on this LP. By this point, the band had also mastered the art of shifting between pop and dance tracks.

On Brotherhood, a distinct boundary exists between the two (literally- the styles each have their own side on the album). There are no guardrails here; the band makes segueing between styles look easy.

All of that is well and good, but why is it my number 1?

Technique was really the first record by the band that I found on my own. Yes, I knew them. Yes, I’d heard almost everything they had recorded up to that point. But this was different; I’d learned of its release on my own and gone and bought it with my own money.

No hand-me-downs from friends’ older siblings or songs clipped from mix tapes. You always remember your first…

Good records always take you somewhere special. Thirty-five years later, Technique still does that for me.

Listen:

New Order | Technique, 1989

Click the record to listen on the platform of your choice.

What are your thoughts on this record? Do you have any favorite tracks or memories associated with it? At 35, does it still hold up? Share your thoughts in the comments!

As for Storm Front, aside from it never having a chance going up against New Order, it’s not good. I might be the only one that likes “We Didn’t Start the Fire,” but even that’s just one song on a totally dour record. “Go to Extremes” is a nice bit of pop, I guess. The rest just feels like Joel mailed it in. No thanks.

Check out the full bracket here.

Info on the tourney, voting, and more is here.

As always, thanks for being here.

KA—

The Best Record of 1989: Day 28

by KevinLeave a Comment on The Best Record of 1989: Day 28

#37 Tracy Chapman, Crossroads vs. #92 Emmylou Harris, Bluebird

Good morning!

Today we’re taking a look at records from Tracy Chapman and Emmylou Harris

Note: As many of you know, I recently wrote about a Best Record of 1989 challenge and noted that I’d be occasionally writing some of these up.

I’ve started doing some quick hits of each matchup and posting them directly to the page. Some will be longer, some won’t, and some might just be a handful of sentences. There’ll probably definitely be some typos.

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

KA—

If it felt like Tracy Chapman came out of nowhere with 1988’s “Fast Car,” it’s cause, well, she did. We loved the song (and record), but we really liked her backstory of busking while in school, etc. We love us a well-constructed pop song, but we really love the story of someone hitting it big- whether on the baseball field or in music. Rooting for the underdog is in our DNA.

Her self-titled debut checked a lot of boxes.

Love song? Check (“Baby Can I Hold You”).

Protest song? You bet (“Talkin’ About a Revolution.”).

And then, of course, there’s “Fast Car,” about a couple down on their luck—you know, a couple of underdogs. Of course, we liked the track! Those are just the singles; the rest of the album is equally solid.

In 1988, we were ready for Chapman’s voice and talent for storytelling.

So how’d she follow that record up? By making one suspicious of the very trappings of wealth and fame that had just arrived at her feet. I can imagine record execs listening to this with furrowed brows, wondering what to do. There’s no obvious single here. Carried on the momentum of her debut, it sold well enough, and those who bought it were rewarded with a record as in-depth and soulful as her first. There might not’ve been a blatant hit here, but this is no sophomore slump.

Indeed, the album sees Chapman tackling some of the same prickly subjects as before: social (in)equality, politics, and her own relationships. “Born to Fight” is a highlight, as are the title track and “Subcity.”

Crossroads is the sort of record that takes a few spins to soak in, but it’s grown on you before you know it. It showed both that Chapman was a force to be reckoned with and that she was going to stay true to herself and her style.

How Emmylou Harris manages to sound both like a songbird and someone who has seen some things is a magic outside the scope of this blog. That said, both are true no matter what (or whose) material she’s signing. The world got its first real glimpse of her as the singing partner of Gram Parsons on his Grievous Angel record (yes, there was Gliding Bird before that, but let’s be real; it’s not good). As for Grievous Angel? You should totally own it- at least buy a digital copy.

And grab one soon. It’ll change your life.

At any rate, something happened between the Gliding Bird and 1975’s Pieces of the Sky. Maybe it was Parsons (I mean, just listen to “I Can’t Dance!), maybe something else- but whatever forces collided, this is for all intents and purposes where things start- and where they get good.

Fast-forward 15ish years, and Emmylou’s a bona fide star with at least a fistful of good records and a couple of S-tier ones to boot. She’s sung her own songs, lent her voice to the work of others, and sang with others (Trio with Dolly and Linda). There have been peaks and valleys.

Then, we get to Bluebird, which is a both of both. And maybe that’s its downfall. It’s trying to be earlier Emmylou while matching the style of the day. She can still knock ‘em out of the park, though. Witness her take on John Hiatt’s “Icy Blue Heart.” If it doesn’t move you, check your pulse. There’s no shortage of heartbreak here, no lack of being hard done by. Again, by this point, Harris has been through it. Even “Heartbreak Hill” is deceptively upbeat.

So there’s a couple of standouts and a bunch that are, well, kind of forgettable. Not even so bad as to stand out. Just midpack anodyne stuff.

To be clear, Harris could sing a grocery list and make it sound good, but we’re judging records here, and this one just isn’t that strong. There’s a reason a lot of lists of her discography slot this in mid-pack or worse.

Pick a couple of tracks for your playlists and put your money toward grabbing a copy of Grievous Angel instead.

Bottom Line: Two singers with one-in-a-million voices. Neither record is the hallmark of their respective careers, but when looked at as a whole, Chapman’s Crossroads is the better of the two.

My vote: Both my bracket pick and my vote will be going toward Chapman.

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!

Check out the full bracket here.

Info on the tourney, voting, and more is here.

As always, thanks for being here.

KA—