Tag: classic-rock

The Best Record of 1989: Day 16

by KevinLeave a Comment on The Best Record of 1989: Day 16

#41 Mekons, The Mekons Rock n’ Roll takes on #88 Slint’s Tweez


Today we’re taking a look at records from Mekons and Slint

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, Mekons released their Horror LP. Reviewing the record, I commented, “A Mekons record in 2025? I can’t think of a more timely release. If you’re a fan of the band, it will not surprise you in the least that they’re not happy with the state of the world and have some thoughts about it.”

So, yeah, not much has changed in 36 (ish) years. Any record that starts with “Destroy your safe and happy lives before it is too late” has a lot to live up to, and The Mekons Rock N Roll does just that. It’s a record that rails against the issues of the day, fueled by a seemingly endless supply of righteous anger. It’s seething. It’s cynical. It is also a helluva-sounding record. Sometimes it’s okay to dance while you’re throwing a brick through a wall.

Shame then that it sold almost nothing. It’s not like the ingredients weren’t there; they were on a decent label, put out a frankly f*cking incredible album at a time when the world (or at least the indie world, anyway) was primed for it, etc. Play “Only Darkness Has the Power,” and try and tell me otherwise. Go ahead, I’ll wait. They were on Twin/Tone, which meant being labelmates with Soul Asylum, The Replacements, etc. This should’ve been the record that put Mekons on the map and landed them a spot in all of our hearts. Instead, it was the first step in a long and winding story of what might’ve been. But they’re still out there putting out outstanding records. Long live rock and roll. Long live Mekons.

SO! I had a whole-ass story to use as a framework for reviewing Slint’s Tweez album. I was going to share the story of how an employee at my local record store used to live near one of the band members and would often see her walking her dog. I would weave that into a larger narrative about how the record store employee is an asset to any community, especially those that are open to whatever you bring up to the register (no Rob Gordons, please, and thank you!). The ones that are always happy to try and turn you on to a record based on what they already know you like and how this was probably the on-ramp to the band for countless people. It was nice—a bona fide feel-good story.

I got about 500 words into it and realized that I was thinking of Slant 6 and NOT Slint. Savvy readers probably picked up on that a while ago. I wish I had. I could’ve saved some keystrokes. Not only had I not been introduced to this band when they first came out, but listening now, I’m not sure it would have been my thing. I liked a lot of shit in 1989, but even I had some limits. I liked music that sounded like demolition in real-time, but I liked it with synthesizers.

Just when I’m about to check out, “Kent” comes along. It’s as disjointed as anything else on the record, but here’s the thing: it sounds like what was happening in every garage or house show in the country at the time. Another case of people trying to be Pavement before they existed or whoever their favorite hardcore band was. It’s a jumbled mess, but that roughness is intentional. That’s all well and good; we love us some character and edge. But ultimately, it all blends into itself and is as unremarkable as all of those other bands time has forgotten.

Bottom Line: In Mekons, we have a band hitting what would prove to be one of their peaks. There are a lot of underrated records from 1989. This is one of ‘em.

With Slint, we have a gumbo of all the styles that were percolating at the time. Not a bad idea, but just like a cake without just the right ingredients, it ultimately falls flat.

My vote: My bracket and vote will go to Mekons.

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 13

by KevinLeave a Comment on The Best Record of 1989: Day 13

#9 Tom Petty, Full Moon Fever vs. #120 Negativland, Helter Stupid

Good morning!

Today we’re taking a look at records from Tom Petty and Negativland

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—

Tom Petty has never backed down from a fight.

In 1979, Tom Petty found himself a million miles away from Gainesville, Florida, in Los Angeles Superior Court right in the heart of a legal battle with his record label. While recording his third album for Shelter Records, the label’s parent company was acquired by MCA. When Petty tried to opt out of his contract, he found himself in court. Petty threatened to scrub his forthcoming record, and MCA petitioned to seize the tapes from the band’s sessions.

After each session, Petty had an engineer hide the recordings as a preemptive strike. Refusing to back down (heh), he even filed for bankruptcy, forcing MCA to open his contracts to renegotiation.

Years later, while recording Full Moon Fever, his label informed him that they didn’t hear a single and wouldn’t release the record. This time, Petty recorded a Byrds cover, “Feel a Whole Lot Better,” as a concession.

His label might’ve thought it didn’t hear a single, but the public sure did. Working with ELO’s Jeff Lynne behind the boards, this is the record that gave us “Free Fallin’,” “Runnin’ Down a Dream,” and, of course, “I Won’t Back Down.” Anyone of these would’ve carried a lesser record, but Full Moon Fever also gave us the seething “Love is a Long Road” (this writer’s fave track on the record).

That it’s considered something of a deep cut tells you all you need to know—both about the strength of this record and how far off the mark label execs were.

As I scream into middle age, one of the things I find myself enjoying is college football—the pomp… the tribal identity…all of it. I also love how certain schools have adopted songs to play at specific points during the game, electrifying the crowd and rallying the team. My beloved Oregon Ducks play the Otis Day & The Knights’ version of “Shout!”. The Wisconsin Badgers play House of Pain’s Jump Around, and the crowd’s reaction has shown up on seismographs.

And in 2017, 90000+ Florida Gators fans sangTom Petty’s “I Won’t Back Down.” It was a moving tribute to their hometown hero who had passed away days earlier and never left in many ways. I don’t know what Petty would think of all that, but I like to think he’d flash that trademark half smile of his and nod approvingly.

Negativland has had its own share of battles, but theirs have been more of their own doing than anything else, including media stunts like linking one of their songs to a real-life murder— which they ginned up to get out of going on tour. Okay then.

On the surface, Negativland feels like an art-school version of Consolidated. Both put out screeds against the establishment. Consolidated wove in bits of audience commentary from their shows; these guys used news clips and other media. Neither pulled any punches with the establishment, and both records are a harsh commentary on society’s bloodlust. The former leaned much more towards politics (and particularly at the global level), but both used records as a mirror held up to a society largely high on its own supply.

“Helter Stupid” (the song) stands out for its deft weaving of bits and beats together. It’s a sonic collage, and anyone who’s ever done a mashup owes a tip of the hat to the Bay area trio. If executives couldn’t hear a single on Full Moon Fever, what would they make of the 18-minute title track here?

Reviewing ‘The Myth of Rock’ last year, I noted that its relevance was also its biggest bummer. I had hoped by now that the points made in 1990 would seem quaint, something that would make kids glance askance when they learned about them in history class. Instead, it was as timely as ever. Empire building and crass consumerism are still in style, it would seem.

Helter Skelter (the song) is no different. If anything, in this era of deepfakes and disinformation, it might be even more relevant now than it was in 89. We love us some tawdry headlines and a delicious scandal. The names might’ve changed, but the mindset has not. These are not tracks that will ever be sung in the stands, but it would be nice if 50000 Gator fans (or whoever) at a time could take these lessons to heart.

The rest of the record is a series of tracks, all titled “The Perfect Cut (something).” Seven more tracks of taking seemingly a bazillion different songs and sound bites, throwing them in a blender, and then pouring whatever resulted into the recording. It’s a fun exercise in what’s possible with both mashups — and now stitching — but it becomes tiresome at a point. Brilliant doesn’t always equal beguiling, and gamifying “name that sample” is good for about a track-and-a-half. After that, I lose interest. If this were an EP, this would be a much tougher call to make. As it is, I’m happy someone got their pet pick into the bracket, but also happy that I won’t have to write up this record again.

Bottom Line: Maybe it’s just my cargo shorts talking, but Petty’s got a leg up on Q-rating, strength of the record itself, and more. Negativland’s message is timely, but Full Moon Fever sounds timeless. This was never going to be a fair fight.

My vote: Bracket and Vote will both go to Gainesville’s favorite son.

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—

From the Archive: Warren Zevon’s ‘Excitable Boy’

by KevinLeave a Comment on From the Archive: Warren Zevon’s ‘Excitable Boy’

Album art courtesy of Asylum Records

Good morning!

Today we’re reaching into the crate and dusting off this classic from Warren Zevon.

Maybe it’s just my timeline, but Warren Zevon seems to be having a moment on here recently. As much as I kvetched about this year’s Rock and Roll Hall of Fame nominees , I was happy to see him get in via their “Musical influence” category. A side door’s still a door, right?

Or, as Brian of 3 Albums 6 Old Guys put it:

As a fan, I’ll put it another way. Recently I visited the Baseball Hall of Fame in Cooperstown, NY. Walking among the plaques, I found Gil Hodges, player with the 1955 World Series champion Brooklyn Dodgers and manager for the 1969 World Series champion New York Mets. Did I think to myself, “yeah, but he made it via the Veterans’ Committee (actually, by that time, the Golden Days Committee)”? Absolutely not. I thought, “that’s right, Gil fucking Hodges, Hall of Famer.”

Zevon encountered some pitfalls along the way—some self-inflicted, many due to the vagaries of pop culture—but there’s no question he deserves a spot in the hall.

For my money, it’s an honor long overdue for the man responsible for writing the best opening line in rock history, and it’s worth taking another look at what I consider his best record.

Last year, Sam Colt and I shared our top 100 albums. Excitable Boy was my #41, and where the words below first appeared.

I still wonder if I shoulda slotted it in higher up the chart.

KA—

The real question isn’t whether or not Warren Zevon is a fantastic songwriter. It’s whether or not he sees himself in the characters he writes about or whether he’s in on the joke. This record is home to his biggest hit, “Werewolves of London,” and one of the greatest songs ever (“Lawyers Guns and Money.”) The former often gets him lumped in with one-hit wonders and on Halloween playlists. Shame, really- did Bobby “Boris” Pickett name-check Trader Vics or have Fleetwood Mac’s rhythm section backing him up on “Monster Mash?” I think not.

The latter is a great example of why so many people keep coming back for more. If you ever want to write a great opening line, write out, “I went home with the waitress/ the way I always do,” and stick it to the side of your computer. Good luck. This is the sort of lyric you could base an entire novel on. Maybe that’s what Carl Hiaasen did.

The title track is field trip through any number of psychoses. “Nighttime in the Switching Yard” is Zevon’s attempt at a bit of funk, and it works well. Turns out he can get down with the best of ‘em. “Accidentally Like a Martyr” closes out the first side. I’ll be damned if I know what that means, but it does well to show his more serious, romantic side. It can’t all be wild adventures and cages with bones.

I mentioned Fleetwood Mac earlier, but the rest of the roster reads like a who’s who of the late ’70s SoCal scene; Linda Ronstadt and Jennifer Warnes sing backup on “Excitable Boy.” JD Souther makes an appearance. Waddy Wachtel is on here, because of course he is. There’s at least one Pocaro brother in the mix.

Zevon would go on to make many records after with various levels of commercial and critical success, but for my money, nothing afterward quite captures the same lightning in a bottle as this album does.

Thanks for being here,

Kevin—

Have any thoughts on this record? Do you own a copy? Where would you place it in his discography? Sound off below!

From the Archive: The 7 Latest Additions to My Record Collection

by KevinLeave a Comment on From the Archive: The 7 Latest Additions to My Record Collection


AT THE RECORD STORE SERIES

Note: I’m bringing this series back for 2025, and as part of that, dusting this one off from just pver a year ago. I love seeing what people pick up on their crate digging excursions, and assume (hope?) many of you feel the same way.

P.S. The Matty C. show I mention below was fantastic. If he’s comin’ to your town, make a plan to be there!

You know that old joke about garage sales, “Everything you want and nothing you need?” I think it’s similar with records. We don’t know we need something until we see it. Then, we can’t imagine life without it.

You’re not looking for most records when they find you.

I wasn’t looking for a record sale this past weekend, either. I was on the Harmony Bar’s website, making sure I had the right date for 

Matty C’s show this fall when I saw a sale happening. Tomorrow.

Ten minutes earlier, I had no idea it was going to happen. Now, I was making sure I could make it. Funny how that works.

Like the bar, the sale itself was lowkey. One small yard sign out front was the only hint that something was going on. I hadn’t been here in a while, but not much had changed. The door still creaks, as do the floorboards. The paint is the same. It still smells vaguely of beer and fried cheese curds—just as nature intended. This is, after all, the house that Rollo Steele built.

The crates were in the back room, sharing space with the regular bar stuff- it was Saturday in Wisconsin, after all. The Badger game was on TV, with people keeping one eye on the overhead screens and one on the crates. The jukebox was silent (see previous). Right next to us, a lady loudly recounted her impending divorce hearing to sympathetic girlfriends. If things went down as she described, this guy had a really bad Monday. A toddler dropped a record on the floor.

There was also a family eating lunch, oblivious to everything around them. I didn’t eat.

Four vendors had their crates set up in a U-shape. The first of the four had far and away the biggest selection and highest quality stuff. Worth noting that he had a LOT of jazz records. Not my specialty, but this would’ve been a field day for the right person. Everything was priced to move at $5 or 5 for 20 unless otherwise marked.

The dB’s Like This was the first record out of the gate. It’s a classic, and for my money, ‘Love is For Lovers’ is the quintessential pop song. I already own it, but this one was in better shape. It’s also almost impossible to find their music online (which is, I suppose, ultimately a good thing, but that’s a story for another day).

Did I really need a second copy? After spending some time in my pile, I decided I did not.

I also came across a copy of R.E.M.’s ‘Life’s Rich Pageant.’ Some of you may recall my looking for this for a while. Several months ago, I excitedly grabbed a copy at a nearby secondhand store, only to get home and realize it was a different record inside. That’s what I get for not checking. On the plus side, the (now empty) sleeve looks nice on my wall.

This time, I did check, and while in great shape, it didn’t seem worth the $125 sticker price. The show must go on. Quite a few other records spent time in my hands but were put back for one reason or another.

Below is the list that made it out the door with me.

Tom Verlaine- Words From The Front (BSK-3685, 1982)

Verlaine’s solo work is a bit of a blind spot for me. I know Television, and I know his self-titled debut. But after that? Nada. So, this was a low lift risk, and it paid off. I’ve only spun it once so far, but my early impression is that it’s on brand for him and in line with his other work. For those well-versed in all things Verlaine, I’d love to hear your thoughts on where this sits with you.

Romeo Void- Benefactor (ARC 38182, 1982)

The story of Romeo Void can be summed up in three and a half words: What might’ve been.

The band was on a rocket ride to the top, with a unique sound and fantastic frontwoman in Deborah Lyall. They had a hit on their hands with ‘Never Say Never’ and its risque (for 1982) line of ‘I might like you better if we slept together.’ All systems were go. Until they weren’t.

So what happened?

We’ve talked about it here before, but the short version is MTV happened.

Video Killed The Radio Star might’ve been the first video played on MTV, but Romeo Void was a band that would end up living that narrative.

The group had every ingredient for success; critical praise, great storytelling, a dynamic singer, a fantastic sax player in Benjamin Bossi, and an EP produced by Ric Ocasek.

They checked a lot of boxes. So what happened? MTV happened. And unfortunately, that sent labels looking for bands with a certain look. Singer Deborah Iyall didn’t fit that mold, and the band’s label made the decision to stop supporting them. The term ghosting didn’t yet exist, but looking back, it certainly fits.

Today, most people only know this track. A few more will recognize “A Girl In Trouble.” but they were so much more than one-hit wonders—a point again driven home while listening to Benefactor later that afternoon. An incredible new wave record from start to finish.

The Pretenders- Get Close (92-54881, 1986)

Get Close is the fourth outing by the third iteration of the band. And while (to my ear) it lacks some of the grit & spark of the first couple of releases, it’s nonetheless solid. Plus, it has “Don’t Get Me Wrong,” one of my favorites and one many of us contributed as a suggestion for last summer’s crowdsourced wedding playlist.

Nancy Wilson/Cannonball Adderley-S/T (T-1657, 1961)

As noted, there were a ton of jazz records, most of which I flipped right by. Cannonball Adderley always stops me in my tracks. This was no exception.

The hype sticker notes that it’s “41 mins 59 seconds of jazz!” That’s my kinda odd specificity. Couldn’t they squeeze out an extra note to make it an even 42 minutes?

Aztec Camera- Backwards & Forwards 10” EP (1-25285, 1985)

I’m not that big of Aztec Camera or Roddy Frame fan. I love ‘The Crying Scene,’ but that’s pretty much where it begins and ends. The vendor noticed my looking at the album and mentioned that this was the one where they take on Van Halen’s ‘Jump.’

Sold.

O.M.D.- The Pacific Age (SP-5144, 1986)

By 1986, OMD were on their 7th record, The Pacific Age. Produced by Stephen Hague, it bears much of his hallmark style and took the band in a more sophistipop-y direction. It was my on-ramp to the band (thanks, Columbia House!) and is also home to “We Love You,” my favorite track by the group. Critics hated it. So did the band, with Andy McCluskey calling it the band’s ‘musical nadir” and describing it as one that just doesn’t sound like them. I hadn’t heard the whole thing in probably 30 years, but I remember really liking 3-4 tracks and fast-forwarding through everything else. It can’t be that bad, right? For $5, I’m willing to find out.

John Hiatt-Bring The Family, (SP-5158, 1987)

This was in the $1 bin, which is a crime. I could’ve sworn I already had a copy1, but there was no way I was going to let this languish in any defacto cut-out bin. Not on my watch. Any record with ‘Memphis In the Meantime,’ ‘Thing Called Love,’ and ‘Have A Little Faith in Me’2 deserves a forever home. And now this copy has one.

So how about you? Found any good records lately? Have any thoughts on the ones I picked up? Share your thoughts in the comments!

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