Tag: life

Not a Plane in the Sky

by KevinLeave a Comment on Not a Plane in the Sky

9/11-The day that changed everything

World Trade Center Memorial & Museum. Photo: www.donnagore.com

Good Morning!

Note: Last night I had the pleasure of seeing Garrett Graff speak. Graff is the author of several books, including The Only Plane in the Sky, a harrowing recount of 9/11 as told by those who were there. Below is mine. I originally wrote this to mark the 20th anniversary of that day. I’d like to think my writing style has changed a bit in the years since. My feelings about 9/11 have not. Thanks for letting me share this. We’ll be back to our regularly scheduled programming tomorrow.

September 11th was the day the evil came to the United States. It was the day that evil came to most people’s lives.

They didn’t think it existed. They came and it exists. And it was in our backyard.

~Mary Galligan, former head of FBI’s PENTTBOM team

It’s hard to believe that over 20 years have passed since that day. The actual events were over fairly quickly-just a few hours, really. But 9/11 was an inflection point for this country, and in a lot of ways it still hasn’t ended.

Aviation today is almost unrecognizable — if you’re old enough that 9/11 was a lived event, you’re old enough to remember not having to take off your shoes, and having friends meet you at the gate.

Another good way to “tell someone your age without telling them your age” is to have a plane fly overhead at low altitude. Anyone who was around that day will still reflexively look up.

Memories can be quirky. Quiz me about last week, and I’d be hard-pressed to answer. Ask me about 9/11, and I can tell you almost anything with amazing clarity. Not just the obvious parts, but much smaller details:

  • What the weather was like.
  • The sounds (or lack thereof).
  • How calm my commute to the airport was — I followed a white car over the Glenn Jackson bridge.
  • Snippets of conversations.
  • The tinny voice coming out of the AM dial in my work truck as I “guarded” grounded aircraft.

I’ve tried to write this story multiple times — the funny thing about 9/11 is that everyone wants to share “their” story — but I keep getting tripped up. It’s hard to do justice to something so profound, yet something we each experienced in our own unique way.

I hope that sentence reads better than I think it does.

The aviation community is extremely fraternal. Maybe second only to law enforcement. Everyone “knows a guy” at this carrier or that station. It may not have been our our paint on those 4 planes, but in an abstract way it still us, you know?

I was that kid who used to look up and stare at planes flying overhead. In a lot of ways, I still am. To realize that these machines had been turned into weapons of mass destruction was devastating. To wonder what those last minutes were like is more than I can bear.

Flights departing the East Coast were already in the air when the FAA decided to ground all air traffic. Those flights were diverted to the nearest available concrete. Flights inbound from Asia and Europe overwhelmed Canadian airports on both ends of the country.

Where I spent 9/11/2001. Photo: Airliners.Net/Chris Coduto

Flights on the West Coast, where I was, had for the most part never left. Gates are usually full overnight, but rarely at midday. Yet there all the planes were, still tucked in from the night before.

The airport looked as if it had just overslept.

We had five planes on the ground. I was initially tasked with “guarding” one. Against what, I didn’t know. I also wasn’t armed or trained — before 9/11, the protocol was to accommodate a suspect’s demands as best you could — so I spent most of the day sitting on the hood of our station’s truck, smoking and listening to the radio. What else was I gonna do? I’ve since come to think this assignment was borne more out of a need to feel like we were doing something than anything else.

The people I worked with did not do helpless well.

As the afternoon moved into evening, we decided that playing sentry was pointless and regrouped to watch TV in our break room. We had a TV strapped to a cart like schools used to. Reception was dodgy, and developments came sporadically.

Meanwhile, our teletype printer never stopped. Looking back, I wish I would’ve saved some of those messages, but the paper fades after a few years, so it wouldn’t have done much good. Everything is ephemeral.

And everything with 9/11 is like a paradox. Recounting the day can be paralytic, and yet the words flow easily. I never really talk that much about 9/11, yet find myself writing too much, going off in every direction lest I dishonor the story by leaving some small part out.

The beautiful weather didn’t match the hellish events.

Airports were quiet.

Traffic calm.

Being high on adrenaline and drained all at once.

A few weeks ago, my state’s newspaper called for submissions. Readers were asked to send in their memories. Posts were to be capped at 250 words. At first, those guardrails seemed like a constraint. In the end, they were freeing.

I did what I could. I think I managed okay. The words below are my submission. This is my story.

I work for an airline. In 2001, I was a new crew chief working the night shift in Portland, Oregon. I was sleeping when our phone started ringing off the hook. Our friends back east were already seeing the horror show unfold. They woke us up just in time to watch the second plane hit, and our lives forever changed.

I was called into work early that day to “guard” our planes; an absurd request, given that none of us were armed, and our training at the time was to accommodate the demands of any threat (much like the flight crews on that day). All of that would change shortly.

In the meantime, I spent most of Tuesday, September 11th, 2001, sitting on the hood of our station’s 20-year-old truck listening to ABC News on AM radio.

People will tell you that it was beautiful that day, and it was. It was sunny in NYC and clear and a million on the West Coast. It was quiet, too; no noise on an airfield is both rare and disconcerting.

Late that night, we were still glued to our break room TV. The graveyard supervisor came in and wondered why we weren’t working. He’d left his previous shift in an ordinary world, slept all day, and returned that night to one that was now unrecognizable to any of us.

One guy wordlessly pointed at the TV. He took a seat and watched with us all.

Wherever the day finds you, I hope the weather is as beautiful as it was that Tuesday morning in 2001.

And please spare a second for the flight crews who fought so valiantly for us before we knew anything was wrong.

Thanks for being here,

Kevin—

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Announcement: An Album of the Month Event You Should Check Out

by KevinLeave a Comment on Announcement: An Album of the Month Event You Should Check Out

We’ve got a great host and a killer record, all set to go. All we need now is you! Here’s how to join the fun.

Cover art courtesy of IRS Records

Good Morning!

Today we’re talking about The English Beat’s Special beat Service, and well, how you can talk about the band with other like minded people.

Note: As some of you know, I’m one of the editors for an online music publication called The Riff. Each month, we host an album discussion (via Zoom), which is coming up on Sunday.

To be clear, all credit goes to Terry Barr and Scott Fountain, who facilitate the meetings, and Jessica Lee McMillan, this month’s host. These three are doing the heavy lifting.

As you’ll see below, these are low-key affairs; all are welcome! If you want to share some thoughts, that’s awesome. Wanna just sit back & listen? That’s cool, too.

Either way, it’d be better with you there.

KA—

It’s that time again; it’s time for our monthly album discussion!

One of our core tenets is sharing music. That obviously involves writing about it, but also talking about it together. We do that monthly here.

This Sunday, August 24th, is that day.

Below is my boilerplate explanation of these discussions and the value you’ll get from joining us. Under that are both the record being discussed and the meeting login details.

  • Don’t know the record? Doesn’t matter.
  • Not comfortable speaking in public? Me either. And you don’t have to if you don’t want to. Heck, you don’t even have to turn your camera on. It’s a safe space, but you control what you share.
  • Ultimately, you’re part of the community; we want you to be a part of this, too.

So check out the “rules” below, and then plan to dial in.

What is this?

For new readers (hi everyone!), we host an online discussion every month.

Here’s how it works:

  • A writer (more on that in a second) picks a record to discuss and writes a brief piece about their choice and the meeting details.
  • At the meeting, they discuss why they picked it, offer a bit of a backstory/context, and whatever else they’d like to share.
  • Everyone else on the call can share their own “hot take,” related story, or anything else you think is relevant.
  • At the end of the meeting, the next month’s writer volunteers (or is chosen), and the process repeats itself.

NOTE FOR INTROVERTS: If you’d prefer to sit in and listen, that is 110% okay. Keep your video off…stay muted…it’s up to you. It’s a safe place; you can participate as much/as little as you’d like.

This month’s host:

This month’s host is Jessica Lee McMillan, a poet, writer, and teacher based in Vancouver, B.C. Her work has been featured in dozens of publications. You can see more of her writing here or on her website.

Cool! So, what are we talking about?

Jessica has chosen ‘Special Beat Service’ by The English Beat..

From her article explaining her pick:

I am still grateful for the third wave, which brought The Specials back into rotation at clubs. I was only a few years old when the Beat emerged, and I had records and cassettes of General Public and Fine Young Cannibals. But I have to thank that third wave for making its way into the goth community here in Vancouver, where — of all places — I first learned to skank to Madness in my late teens.

Musical influences can travel anywhere — like language — and while we want to respect its origins, genre — like language — is a living thing that evolves and migrates.

Special Beat Service is the album you intentionally pull out several times a year. It is a rock. It is a place to return.

That’s why I have chosen it for the album of the month.

Musical adventure, exploring new sounds, and sharing great music with great people make these discussions a joy.

Join us and see for yourself.

Listen:

The Beat | Special Beat Service (1982)

(Click the record to listen on your platform of choice)

Album art courtesy of IRS Records

I’m in! How can I join?

Here ya go:

When: Sunday, August 24th: 4 PM Eastern/ 8 PM GMT

Where: Join Zoom Meeting

Thanks for being here (and there!),

Kevin—

You’re Never Alone In The Twilight Zone

by KevinLeave a Comment on You’re Never Alone In The Twilight Zone

From the archive: A quick look at Pere Ubu’s groundbreaking Cloudland album.

Good Morning!

Today as Round 1 of the Best Record of 1989 tourney wraps up, we’re taking a quick look at Pere Ubu’s Cloudland. This was originally published in May of last year to mark the record turning 35.

Most record collectors have a holy grail: the one record they hope to find above all others. For years, mine was Pere Ubu’s 1989 album, Cloudland.

I’d first found the record not too long after it came out. In the late 80s, CDs were still a novelty, but someone at our city library decided to go “all in” on them (thank you, whoever you are). It was delightfully eclectic as a place trying to be something for everyone. You truly never knew what you might find and rarely came out with exactly what you’d gone in looking for.

They’d put a lot of effort into procuring them but not nearly as much into keeping them organized, settling instead for a brittle system of roughly sorting by genre and hoping for the best. It was all a wonderful mess purpose-built for happy accidents.

One of those collisions was my onramp to the band.

📻📻📻

I would ride my bike there (Haro freestyle, thankyouverymuch) and spend hours flipping through the titles, picking not just names I knew but ones that looked, well, interesting. I’m sure there was an official limit on how many titles you could have checked out at once, but I usually defaulted to about 7-8, as that’s how many could fit in those heavy-duty plastic bags they gave you.

It was always easy to check this CD out. As much as I’d like to frame myself as some sort of tastemaker or just ahead of my time, the reality was that word traveled slowly from Cleveland. And the people who may have known them from work like “30 Seconds Over Tokyo” or their Dub Housing record were probably not hanging out in suburban Portland libraries.

This record has proven hard to find in subsequent years for a bunch of reasons. If I’m honest, had I known how many years I’d ultimately spend looking for this record, I might’ve just kept it, said I lost it and paid the fine. Nevertheless…

📻📻📻

It’s reductive to call the band avant-garde, but the band has done more to define the genre than most. Their sound combined elements of kraut rock, art, flurries of guitar, and frontman Dave Thomas’ odd yelps and yowls. Thomas’s vocals also ricochet between spoken word, a warbling, and actual singing, and the result is a mix of what we recognize as the structure of normal songs and wild sonic field trips. Along the way, Pere Ubu has created a sound that is often dissonant but always original.

You don’t listen to a Pere Ubu record; you experience it.

In 1987, after a several-year hiatus, the band reformed with what would be one of a bazillion lineup iterations and released The Tenement Year—a record with one foot firmly in the traditional realm of the band’s anarchic sound and the other edging toward a more palatable—if not quite radio-friendly—world.

If The Tenement Year represented dipping a toe into the world of Pop, Cloudland was a cannonball into the deep end of the pool. Stephen Hague (Pet Shop Boys, New Order, among others) was behind the boards and took everything the band had done to that point and proudly ignored it. Gone were the usual weapons-grade chaos, tangents, and noise. Instead, he helped corral the band’s usual wanderings into something much more cohesive and melodious. Experimentation was out, and flirting with formulas was in.

In other words, Hague helped Pere Ubu make something no one saw coming—a bona fide pop record.

📻📻📻

There are plenty of high water marks here. Through any other lens, “Race the Sun” and “Ice Cream Truck” would be boilerplate tracks, but Pere Ubu is nothing if not subversive, and the band puts their own odd magical touch on them almost in spite of themselves.

“Waiting For Mary” is the closest they’ve come yet to a hit, cracking the Modern Rock Tracks top 10. “Bus Called Happiness” is arguably the most pop song the band has ever—or will ever—create. It’s also this writer’s favorite and drove much of the multi-year quest to hunt this record down.

That’s not to say Hague finished the job. If Side A is as radio-friendly as it gets (certainly college radio, anyway), Side B assures fans that not all has been forgotten. There are plenty of odd loops and experimentation here on tracks like “Nevada” and “Monday Night,” maintaining a line to the rest of the band’s catalog.

📻📻📻

I wasn’t looking for Cloudland when I walked into my local record shop a couple of years ago—in fact, I rarely know what I’m looking for when I go in. And even when I do, I usually either toss that list, come up with something totally different, or both.

But the universe has a funny way of gifting you things when you least expect them. In much the same accidental way I came across their CD all those many years ago, I came across a vinyl copy, misfiled under the wrong letter.

Again, Pere Ubu can be an acquired taste. A friend and I saw them open for Pixies not too long after this came out. Going in, I’d bet we were 2 of only a handful of people eager to see them. Post-show, I doubt that number went up much. Their records can be hard to find, and even if/when you do, they are often inaccessible and occasionally unlistenable. The release was out of print forever, and a reissue appears to be missing a couple of tracks—even trying to find listening links for this article has proven to be a challenge.

But when they’re on, they’re on, and with Cloudland, Pere Ubu made a masterpiece.

📻📻📻

What are your thoughts on this record? Do you have any favorite tracks or memories associated with it? Where does it land on your list of Pere Ubu albums? Share your thoughts in the comments!

Thanks for being here,

Kevin—

Some light housekeeping:

  1. Save the date! The date for this month’s Album of the Month Discussion will be on Sunday, the 24th, at 4 PM Eastern. This month’s discussion will be led by Vancouver-based Jessica Lee McMillan, whose previous presentation on Stereolab’s Dots and Loops was one for the ages. This time around, we’ll discuss Special Beat Service by The English Beat. These are always fun, but will be better with you there!
    Meeting Details:When: Sunday 24 Aug 2025 ⋅ 4pm — 6pm EST
    Zoom Meeting Link:.
    https://presby-edu.zoom.us/j/85339128617?pwd=MDfb510FCFXCayaFPNtatnLiUdEsey.1&jst=2

Some Records Change Your Life. This Band Changed the Way I Live.

by KevinLeave a Comment on Some Records Change Your Life. This Band Changed the Way I Live.

The Best Record of 1989, Day 61: #11 Fugazi, 13 Songs vs. #118 Paul McCartney, Flowers in the Dirt.

Good morning!

Today we’re taking a quick look at records from Fugazi and Paul McCartney

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

Note: Today’s piece on Fugazi draws heavily from this one I wrote as part of our Top 100 Records series from last year. That article specifically discussed the Repeater LP, but if anything, my feeling for the band itself has only grown in the months since.

KA—

Fugazi, 13 Songs

Some records change your life, but rarely does a band come along that changes the way you live. Fugazi did both. In an era when selling out was still a four-letter word, the band did what they did best: they lived their lives on their terms. They could make a compelling case for why you should be on their team, but if you weren’t, that was okay, too. It was a big tent, and their live-and-let-live mindset was a far cry from the straight-edge kids who had teased those threads to their extreme and spent shows looking for drinks to knock out of people’s hands.

Speaking of those shows, the band capped admission at $5 and insisted they be all-ages. I imagine that eventually paid off in the form of increased record sales, but they left a lot of money on the table then. Same with shying away from selling merch and staying on their homegrown Dischord label. Respect and street cred are all well and good, but they don’t pay the rent. But here’s the thing: that DIY ethic wasn’t just a gimmick for Fugazi; it was everything. When one of your songs has a chorus that screams, “You are not what you own,” selling t-shirts becomes a little tricky.

The band held themselves to a high ethical standard, and none of it would’ve mattered if the music wasn’t any good.

But about that record…

Before the postcards from Pedantry Place start filling my mailbox, yes, I know 13 Songs is technically the combo of Fugazi’s self-titled and Margin Walker EPs. So does almost everyone else reading this. You should also know that Margin Walker itself barely missed the cut to be in the tourney. A tourney that somehow has Godflesh and Cardiacs. In other words, I’m just happy this one’s here. No Fugazi would’ve been a real injustice.

At any rate, the short version is this: before they’d even released an LP proper (the incredible Repeater), they had already made a statement record (or two, really) that were then combined to make this, kicking off a decade-plus run of statement records and declarative statements.

If you know nothing else about this band, you likely know the bassline/intro to “Waiting Room.” By this point, it’s been in everything from viral clips of kids covering it at bandcamp to Metallica briefly playing it on stage during one of the “jamming” sessions they do at every show.

The record is also home to “Bulldog Front” and “Promises,” both blistering, both taking aim at something and taking no prisoners. Perhaps more than anything, Fugzai is best at demolishing someone or something (shitty friends, sexism, rampant consumerism), and doing it to one of the funkiest beats to NOT come from an 808.

It’s also worth mentioning that, as iconic as the “Waiting Room” bass line is, it’s not the only one of note here; “Bad Mouth” is another one. The chunky riffs on Margin Walker are infectious.

Who else but this band could get us to sing along to lines like:

Untraceable, untranslatable
I can’t explain all I ever wanted to do
Trajectory passing right through me
Threads my needle sends it right to you.

They can be preachy, sure, but it’s all for a good cause, and all set to a great sound. The music is softer than that of predecessor bands like Rites of Spring and Minor Threat, but if anything, the message is stronger. And it’s important to note that none of these records were promoted as usual- no merch, no guest hosting on 120 Minutes, etc. The entire thing was built on word of mouth, flyers on telephone poles, and blistering shows for the unheard of (even then) price of $5. This felt subversive in 1989. In 2025, it feels downright revolutionary. And in a lot of ways, it was.

On paper, Fugazi is still a band. In reality, they’ve been on hiatus for over twenty years now. Occasionally, a rumor pops up that they’ve again left money on the table by refusing to reunite to play a festival. Sometimes, there are even whispers that they’re getting back together. But nothing has come of it yet, and most of it is just white noise and/or wishful thinking.

Again, I’m going off memory, but I also recall the shows being played with just regular lights. Other than them coming up and going down, nothing changed throughout the setlist- no color, no nothing. The spotlight was on the music itself. Fugazi wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Paul McCartney, Flowers in the Dirt

My grandmother liked to go to the movies, and we had an informal deal; sometimes I got to pick, and sometimes she did. That s how we ended up seeing Breakin’2 in the theaters, but also how we wound up enduring “Give My Regards to Broadstreet,” whose soundtrack was, well, not well regarded. It gave us one “okay” hit (“No More Lonely Nights” and the rest of the film is probably best left forgotten. This is a long way of saying that the 80s were not McCartney’s best era.

Like a kid doing a great final project to salvage a grade after a term of sleeping through class, Flowers in the Dirt was a good—not great—record to end the decade. I don’t know if I’d consider it a comeback per se, but it’s close enough.

The most notable thing here is the collaboration with Elvis Costello. The two worked side by side in the studio, with some tracks ending up here and some going to Costello’s records (including “Veronica”). This pairing works better than I would ‘ve thought. I get that both are from Liverpool, travel in similar musical circles, etc. I guess I didn’t expect them to click the way they did. To me, Costello has always had just the right amount of cynicism, while McCartney has seemed sunny to a fault (I realize this doesn’t necessarily reflect reality, only my interpretations of their respective catalogs). In 2017, the record was re-released as a ‘special edition,’ and those bonus tracks/demos/outtakes are even better than the original. That doesn’t happen too often.

My vote: Shame that McCartney is up against one of my favorite records of all time here. Flowers in the Dirt was far more enjoyable than I’d expected—enough so that I did a quick search to see if any copies were “priced to move” on Discogs. The winner here also (I think?) will have a relatively easy next match, facing either The Pogues or Nomeansno in Round 2. That said, there are countless people whose lives were changed by The Beatles. Fugazi changed mine, and that’s who’ll be getting my vote today.

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—

A Good Thing Takes on…Godflesh

by KevinLeave a Comment on A Good Thing Takes on…Godflesh

The Best Record of 1989, Day 59: #27 Fine Young Cannibals, The Raw and the Cooked vs. #102 Godflesh, Streetcleaner

Good morning!

Today we’re taking a quick look at records from Fine Young Cannibals and Godflesh

Note: As many of you know, I recently wrote about a Best Record of 1989 challenge and noted that I’d occasionally write 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—

Fine Young Cannibals, The Raw and the Cooked

Going into this review, my biggest question was, “Is it any good?” I knew the ubiquitous “She Drives Me Crazy” and “Good Thing.” I also vaguely remembered “I’m Not Satisfied” and “Baby Don’t Look Back” and vaguely recalled liking them.

My biggest question afterward was, How do you classify this record? And why had I not bothered with it all these years? Okay, that’s two questions, but both fair ones. Honestly, I have zero idea how to classify this album. There’s ska, Motown-era influence, a Buzzcocks cover, and everything in between.

FWIW, that cover was featured in the movie Something Wild, and a few other tracks were featured in other films. Even the band name was taken from a movie title.

Fine Young Cannibals — which included former members of The Beat, Andy Cox and David Steele, and vocalist Roland Gift — weren’t exactly straight out of central casting when it came to hit makers, but here we are. Steele and Cox had already cracked the chart code before with tracks like “Mirror in the Bathroom” and “Save It for Later,” but it turns out what would be their biggest hit almost didn’t happen.

Producer David Z explains:

The Cannibals—Roland, Andy and David—sent me songs through email for a few weeks and we decided on a list.”

One song was titled “She’s My Baby,” which David Z loved. The band, however, appeared less than enthused: “When they said it was rubbish and they wanted to throw it away, I told them I wouldn’t want to work with them unless we did that song,” Z said, “They reworked the lyrics and came up with ‘She Drives Me Crazy.’ Everyone I know could feel that way—and has.”

Lucky for us, it was released. With that sharp snare hit, a stripped-down arrangement, and Roland Gift’s now-iconic falsetto, we got the sort of right song at the right time that comes along about every 10 years or so.

The much more straightforward “Don’t Look Back” peaked at #11, while the fifth and final single, “I’m Not Satisfied,” only reached an anemic #90. Shame, really, as it deserves to be heard by a much wider audience.

This would (more or less) mark the end of the line for the band; they split up a few years later before recording a follow-up LP. But before that, we got the Raw and the Cooked- a record that is, well, a good thing (sorrynotsorry)

Don’t be me: If you haven’t checked out The Raw and the Cooked yet, do yourself a favor and give it a listen. Albums that nail that perfect mix of art and pop, old school and new school, don’t come around too often.

Godflesh, Streetcleaner

Oh, hey, sludgy riffs and ghoulish vocals labeled as “post metal.” Fun! Man, what a letdown after listening to FYC. I hope whoever nominated this got the help they needed.

Okay, that’s maybe a bit unfair. I can appreciate the way they blend metal and industrial genres here, and they’ve done well to paint a dystopian hellscape, but this feels like something a SWAT team would play on a loop to coax a suspect out of a house. Hard pass.

My vote: Ever fallen in love with a record you hadn’t heard in a while? You can never have too much of a good thing. I’m not gonna look back when I vote for FYC.

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—

One of These Albums Changed Music Forever – The Other Didn’t

by KevinLeave a Comment on One of These Albums Changed Music Forever – The Other Didn’t

The Best Record of 1989, Day 57: #6 Nirvana, Bleach vs. #123 The Rolling Stones, Steel Wheels.

Good morning!

Today we’re taking a quick look at records from Nirvana and The Rolling Stones

Note: As many of you know, I recently wrote about a Best Record of 1989 challenge and noted that I’d occasionally write 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—

Note: Today’s piece draws heavily from anarticle I wrote in April of last year marking the anniversary of Kurt Cobain’s passing.

Nirvana, Bleach

It’s weird to find myself at an age where I can start a story with “I remember when” without irony.

Nirvana and Kurt Cobain are no exception. I recall with razor-sharp clarity how hearing ‘Negative Creep’ live off “their upcoming record” felt like a kick to the head. It was amazing, and everyone in the crowd that night knew we were at the starting line of something special.

Barreling to my local Tower Records in a car whose steering wheel I couldn’t see over to get Nevermind? Yep. That too.

They played great music, no doubt. But their relatability was magnetic. Come for the music, stay for the down-to-earthiness. Krist Novoselic always struck me as the proverbial older brother of my friends. The one who was either an upperclassman in HS, or went to Reed. An itinerant presence, but one that always came with a smile and cool records.

Cobain was something else. I think what made Cobain so relatable was the feeling that he was one of us. Aberdeen Washington isn’t that close to where I grew up, but people tend to generalize the entire Pacific Northwest as where they’re from.

Different license plates be damned; he was one of us.

There’s a great line early on in Michael Azzerad’s recent article about his time with the musician where he says :

…and two things struck me instantly. The first was: oh, wow, I know this guy. He wasn’t some sort of rock-and-roll space alien—he was actually like a lot of the stoners I went to high school with.

Reading that 30+ years later hit me the same way ‘Negative Creep’ did all those years ago. I “knew” that guy, too. In a lot of ways, I was that guy.

Back to the record:

Before Geffen, Smart Studios, Courtney Love, or even Dave Grohl, there was Bleach. Nevermind’s time stamp marks the group as a ’90s band, and it’s close, but the reality is they were tearing the roof off of clubs and upstaging headliners well before that. My words above weren’t meant to be hyperbolic; we really did feel like we were witnessing something amazing. A lot of bands back in the day were awesome, but not like this. Even in the early days, Nirvana was extraordinary.

This was even before picking up their music at Tower Records. They were on Sub Pop, and I have no idea about any distribution deals, but I can tell you I picked up my copy of Bleach (on cassette, thankyouverymuch) at a place called Locals Only Records in Beaverton. That wasn’t false advertising; they only sold music by artists from the Pacific Northwest. Aberdeen counts.

If Nevermind is mentioned in the same breath as Pearl Jam, Bleach deserves to be mentioned in the same breath as (relatively) lesser-known Seattle bands like Tad and the Melvins. It’s heavier, with sludgy riffs and a chugging rhythm section (Chad Canning and Dale Crover were on drums here).

“Negative Creep” is like standing in front of a blast furnace, and for my money, it is still one of the best tracks they ever put on tape. “Love Buzz” puts a fantastic spin on the Shocking Blue track and, dare I say, bests it. Opener “Blew” is a maelstrom.

Kurt Cobain gets an early chance to show off his songwriting here. Tracks like “Floyd the Barber” lean toward the absurd, but he truly shines on “About a Girl.” It turns out he’s got some chops. It was not always the easiest thing to hear behind the wall of fuzzed-out stoner rock we were getting, but it was there, just waiting for us.

Cobain’s untimely death and the band’s relatively short lifespan mean that they are often lionized (see also Joy Division). That’s fine. I think it’s safe to say that Nevermind changed the world—it’s a record that rearranged plenty of minds. But that momentum starts with Bleach. “Negative Creep” walked so that “Smells Like Teen Spirit” could run. I’m just glad I was there to see it.

The Rolling Stones, Steel Wheels

If you ever want to get the prototypical “music guy” (and they’re almost always guys) to launch into a stemwinder about how music today sucks, say something mildly negative about the Stones…or say something like Undercover has a couple of good songs. Or just leave ’em out of your Top 100 albums altogether. Trust me; it’s like moths to a flame. Just give your inbox a heads up about what’s comin’.

So, at the risk of taking a swing at that hornet’s nest, I’ll say this: Steel Wheels is an incredibly mediocre record. It’s home to one of their best tracks (“Mixed Emotions“) and forgettable tracks like “Hold on to Your Hat.” It also has an “Almost Hear You Sigh,” which is somewhere in the middle. A serviceable enough ballad, but one weighed down by too many coats of polish. I’m sure in ’89 some people wore out this cassingle during a break up or whatever, but are we sure this is the same band that put out tracks like “Gimme Shelter?’

Steel Wheels served as a reunion record of sorts, with Keith Richards and Mick Jagger burying the hatchet and laying some tracks down. That’s all well and good—it ensured another 30+ years of tours where they played the hits—but it would’ve been nice to see something novel come out of this reconciliation.

My vote: Look, I get why people have an affinity for the Rolling Stones. We tend to latch onto bands we first heard in our youth. I feel the same way about Nirvana- it would be hypocritical of me to say anything otherwise. That said, the Stones’ records of yore are not the same ones they released mid-career. The edges have been sanded off. There’s not a lot of ‘there” there. It’s commercially viable, but also the stuff of commercials. Bleach is a record whose edges are impossible to wear down. Love it or hate it, it’s one of the first green shoots of what was to come. And what was to come was incredible. My bracket pick and vote will both be going for Nirvana.

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 56: #46 Steve Reich, Different Trains vs. #83 Concrete Blonde, Free

by KevinLeave a Comment on The Best Record of 1989: Day 56: #46 Steve Reich, Different Trains vs. #83 Concrete Blonde, Free

Insert catchy subtitle here.

Good morning!

Today we’re taking a quick look at records from Steve Reich and Concrete Blonde

Note: As many of you know, I recently wrote about a Best Record of 1989 challenge and noted that I’d occasionally write 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—

More than once during this series, I have hit the keyboard with no idea what I’m going to type out. Maybe I don’t know the record…maybe I’m agnostic toward the band…whatever the reason, there’s not a clear/cut direction mapped out ahead of time.

For me, that’s part of the fun. Can I make this work? Can I sculpt these random thoughts into something both entertaining and informative for anyone on the other side of the screen? We’ll find out before too long, but I’ll tell you this for free: if any record’s gonna pressure test that ability, Steve Reich’s Different Trains is it. I’d never heard of either him or the record. Because I’m a chaos agent, I like to be spontaneous, so I decided to go cold without doing any research first. If you are familiar with this record, you’ve probably already sussed out the ending by now and can skip ahead to my thoughts on Concrete Blonde. For everyone else, let’s see where this ride takes us…

Pulling it up, I see it’s Steve Reich and Kronos Quartet. I only vaguely know the latter name, and if pressed to name a single piece of work by them, I would fail. This clearly is something not in my wheelhouse, either now or in 1989. But it’s also seeded relatively high, so I’m hoping that it’ll be interesting even if it isn’t something appealing to me. Mostly, I just want something tangible or an interesting angle.

The short version is this: there are three songs, er, “movements,” and the intensity ramps up with each successive track. There are voice snippets here, each growing ever shorter until they simply become notes in the work(s) themselves. There are also on-brand sounds such as steam trains, whistles, brakes, etc. It all makes for work that leaves the listener disoriented. It’s pretty intense—and I like me some intense. Once I learned the backstory, it became even more so.

Reich, as it turns out, was a child of divorce. His parents split early, and he spent a lot of time riding the rails across the country between his mom’s new home in LA and his dad’s in New York. Later, it would dawn on him that at the same time he was criss-crossing the US, other kids his same age were riding trains with much uglier destinations; Auschwitz, Dachau, etc. A real case of “there but for the grace of God, go I.” The voices we hear on the record are from his governess, a porter on the trains Reich regularly rode, and three holocaust survivors. Different Trains is intense before you know the backstory. It becomes downright harrowing once you do.

I’ve been thinking a lot about that lately- how where/when you ‘re born is the structure to your life’s story. I’ve been viewing it through the eyes of a middle-aged dad who spends a lot of time wondering how he got here (and where his glasses are). But at the same time, how fortunate a hand I was dealt. I was the right age at the right time to be one of the first to see more than one band that would change the world (more on that tomorrow!). My parents’ decision to buy a home where they did meant proximity to kids who would also be music nerds, and of course, the wonder that is Oregon1. Mt. Hood? Way good.

And so too is this record. I don’t have the technical savvy to discuss the specific elements of the record (the cello is nice, I guess?), but I can definitely vouch for this being a ride that’ll leave you more than a little shaken. It’s one you don’t easily forget. In 2025, “Never forget” seems more imperative than ever.

Please don’t be the one with Joey on it
Please don’t be the one with Joey on it
Please don’t be the one with Joey on it

~Me, pulling this record up to play

My not-at-all-subjective take on Concrete Blonde going in was this: I don’t like “Joey.” Like, at all. I love “Still In Hollywood.” Like, unequivocally. “Bloodletting” (the song) is cool in a sort of sleazy way. Everything else is up for grabs.

About four tracks in, I feel a strange sensation come over me. Do I…do I like this record? Yes, yes I do. Time to tear up my old thoughts on the band, and at a minimum, carve out an exemption for this record.

So “Joey wouldn’t” come for another year (yay!), and in the meantime, we get a gritty, just sleazy enough record packed to the gills with chunky riffs and Johnette Napolitano’s voice. There are some who’ll tell you she can’t quite stay on key. Doesn’t matter. The sheer force of these pipes is something to behold. And the list of people who sing worse is a mile long. More importantly, it feels purpose-built to match the music here. It’s something you hear in impossibly hot clubs with low ceilings and bathrooms that qualify as Superfund sites. It’s delicious. Put together, the record feels perfect to soundtrack the side of LA tour buses that don’t take you through. The world of dive bars, out-of-this-world Mexican food that never gets Instagrammed, and the sorts of unforgettable characters that make for great song lyrics.

My vote: I would love to say that Steve Reich’s record is now hopelessly quaint. An anachronistic recording of an event that could never possibly happen again, but we’d both know I was lying. At age 36, its lessons have more urgency now than they did when it was released. A record doesn’t have to be in your wheelhouse to tell a riveting, necessary story, and this one does.

Going the other way, Concrete Blonde delivers a snapshot of a very specific vision of Los Angeles that most people either never see or that has been lost to time and/or the clouding of memories. In this version, the beer is cheap, adventure plentiful, and things are just dangerous enough to get interesting. And that’s my kinda town. My vote’s for Concrete Blonde (not having “Joey” on the record also helps).

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 Sugarcubes ‘Here Today…Tomorrow…Next Week!’ | What Could’ve Been, Would’ve Been…Should’ve Been!

by KevinLeave a Comment on The Sugarcubes ‘Here Today…Tomorrow…Next Week!’ | What Could’ve Been, Would’ve Been…Should’ve Been!

The Best Record of 1989: Day 54: #51 The Sugarcubes, Here Today, Tomorrow, Next Week! vs. #78 3rd Bass, The Cactus Album

Good morning!

Today we’re taking a quick look at records from The Sugarcubes and 3rd Bass.

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

In case you missed any from earlier this week:

Camper Van Beethoven’s Key Lime Pie Record Is the Story of a Nation Crumbling Under Reagonomics

Was Blind Man’s Zoo the Last “Real” 10,000 Maniacs Record?

Is The Jesus and Mary Chain’s ‘Automatic’ a…Dance Record?

Note: Thoughts on tomorrow’s match are below.

KA—

You know those clips on YouTube where they isolate the bassline from a hit song, or Michael McDonald’s voice from “Peg?” Imagine something like that, but where you could edit out an element.

Now, picture using the audio equivalent of Control + F to find/delete everything related to Einar Örn’s vocals from The Sugarcubes’ Here Today, Tomorrow Next Week! You’d have a contender for record of the year, with fans split over whether it or Life’s Too Good is their best. I like Stick Around For Joy, but let’s be real—I might be alone on that.

Here Today, Tomorrow, Next Week! should’ve been the album where The Sugarcubes leveled up by doubling down on what made Life’s Too Good so memorable. Instead, they ran with the one element that worked because it was restrained and put it front and center. Imagine being the producer and hearing, “More Einar everywhere!” Yeesh.

On Life’s Too Good, Einar appeared in just the right doses, playing something of a foil to Björk—it worked, because it was contained. Here, the leash is off, and his constant interruptions drag down nearly every track.

I don’t mean to pile on here, but at the same time I kind of do—especially since his trumpet playing is one of the things I like most about this record. Why couldn’t he have focused on that instead? What’s with wanting to be the North Atlantic version of Fred Schneider?

Meanwhile, Björk is in fine form, throwing herself into these songs with a fury that hints at her later solo career. You hear her pushing her limits. Just when you think, Yes! Yes!—Einar bursts in with more yelped nonsense, and all bets are off.

Musically, there’s a lean, angular energy, with tight, new wave-adjacent grooves and just enough pop sparkle to keep things moving. The horn sections shine, especially on songs like “Tidal Wave.” The rhythm section is locked in, pushing things forward nicely. It makes you want to like this record more than you do. Which again begs the question—why not steer Einar toward his strengths?

Back to YouTube: imagine you’ve erased Einar’s vocals and are listening to the improved version. The sound has evolved, and the grooves have more substance. It still tries to be a party record but is less about novelty and more about what the album could have been.

That’s the rub. The record succeeds in many areas: Björk shines, and the band delivers. So what happened? Did Einar have outsized sway, or did everyone agree? It feels self-sabotaging.

The other fault is that it drags on too long. It feels longer than Life’s Too Good, despite actually being shorter. Someone should’ve made the unilateral decision to cut “Hot Meat,” which feels like a Temu version of “Cold Sweat.”

Here Today…is a record that comes so close, but with Einar’s overwhelming presence, it ultimately misses the mark. Still, if you lean in close, you can hear real gold. Here Today, Tomorrow, Next Week! is the band at a crossroads, unsure of what to keep or cut.

Sometimes it works—but more often, it’s just exhausting.

For the third Bass, I had to phone a friend. I had a feeling that we liked a couple of tracks, but otherwise, we spent most of our time pointing and laughing at MC Serch and Pete Nice. Turns out my memory failed me (quelle surprise!). My buddy texted back within minutes, saying, “The Cactus Album is a Classic.”

Okay, so that’s sorted then.

Listening to the record, I’m surprised at how well it’s held up and the creativity of the samples used. I wasn’t expecting a Blood Sweat and Tears track sample here, but it’s also possible I memory-holed it like everything else. I did remember “Gas Face,” and it’s as fun now as it was then. Does 50-year-old me find the same appeal that teenage me did? Apparently, yes. Same story with “Steppin’ to the AM” (home of the sample mentioned above). Do two tracks a record make? No, but this was a nice enough way to soundtrack part of my shift at work.

My vote: Took the easy out here, and went with The Sugarcubes. For all its faults, this is still a Sugarcubes record and Björk’s on it. That’s some gravitational pull. Also, another example of the performative voting we’ve seen previously (and will see again).

Ask yourself: Who’s cooler: Bjork or MC Serch? Exactly.

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—

P.S. Tomorrow’s Match Up features #19 Neneh Cherry’s Raw Like Sushi taking on #110 Don Henley’s End of the Innocence.

One I’d never heard before now, and one I’m ambivalent (at best) towards. Decided to punt on this one and give myself a pass on writing it up. My bracket pick and vote will both be going to Neneh Cherry.

Is The Jesus and Mary Chain’s ‘Automatic’ a…Dance Record?

by KevinLeave a Comment on Is The Jesus and Mary Chain’s ‘Automatic’ a…Dance Record?

The Best Record of 1989 Day 53: #14 Jesus and Mary Chain, Automatic vs. #115 Kitchens of Distinction, Love is Hell

Good morning!

Today we’re taking a quick look at records from Jesus and Mary Chain and Kitchens of Distinction

Note: As many of you know, I recently wrote about a Best Record of 1989 challenge and noted that I’d occasionally write 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 and hot takes are welcome! Sharing and restacks are always appreciated.

KA—

The first of what would be many trips to Portland’s Pine Street Theater was marked by a beer bottle winged from the stage, whizzing inches from my head. It turned out fine; this became an anecdote I’ve shared many times. A ha-ha moment that was very close to having a very different ending.

The band playing? The Jesus and Mary Chain.

I don’t think people thought this record was a joke, but I do remember many people lamenting that it wasn’t another Psychocandy. The band also got some flak for using drum machines and synths (there’s no bass guitar on the record). You can argue for each of those points, but I think they were saying that the record might be too poppy for their taste.

Ultimately, though, Automatic gets a largely undeserved bad rap.

The album followed 1988’s Barbed Wire Kisses and would be followed by the ’92’s Honey’s Dead. In other words, you’ve got my favorite on one side and a solid outing on the other. But Automatic’s importance in the Jesus and the Mary Chain discography shouldn’t be questioned. Like Darklands, it has been a sleeper that has risen in reputation as time passes.

The album was produced by the Reid brothers and recorded at Sam Therapy studios in West London. It would give us two hit singles: “Blues From a Gun” and “Head On,” the latter being the poppiest thing they ever made this side of “Sometimes, Always.” The album reached #11 on the UK album charts but only managed #105 on the US charts.

At the time of its release, the reception was lukewarm, but in some circles it was shit hot. “Head On” got a lot of airplay on the likes of MTV’s 120 Minutes, and no less than Pixies wound up covering it. It also caught the eye of my then-girlfriend, which meant that I had a willing partner in crime to make the cross-town trek to Pine Street.

Possible hot take: If Barbed Wire Kisses was an homage to surf rock, Automatic was a nod to dance music writ large. “Blues From A Gun” has a swagger that’ll get your hips moving, “Head On” has one of the most glorious choruses of the year, and the druggy “Here Comes Alice” is all dark sugary goodness. None of these are dancefloor fillers in the traditional sense, but all make it hard to stay still.

The Jesus and Mary Chain never made the same record twice. Each has a unique style (or vibe) and sound, leading to some red lines being drawn among the fanbase. Some people liked the fuzzed-out/tripped out nature of Psychocandy. Others, the more accessible sheen of Darklands. Some loved the heavy gauged riffs of Barbed Wire Kisses. Automatic had a little something for all three camps.

What I think everyone could agree on was just how far upfront the drums and sequencers were compared with their other releases. The programmed bass gave the album a relentless pace and feel, as if it was daring all of us to keep up.

Automatic is a rock & roll record that tapped into what was going on around it—and the band—at the time. While I’m not entirely sure it understood the assignment, I’m positive it’s held up over the ensuing years.

Perhaps the biggest reason time has rehabbed its reputation is this: at its core, this is a (maybe the only?) JAMC record you can dance to.

Which is exactly what I was doing when that bottle flew by.

The nicest thing I can say about Kitchen’s of Distinction’s Love is Hell is that “Prize” is a great song. Really. I listened to it, like, 3 times in a row. That it took ‘til track 4 to get to it is a story for another day. I’m usually all in on dream pop, but this just didn’t anything for me. Maybe it’s a record that asks you to listen a couple of times before you get it? I dunno.

My vote: JAMC is one of my all-time favorite bands, which means Kitchens of Distinction never really had a chance. A record full of tracks like “Prize” might’ve given me a moment’s pause, but my bracket pick and vote were never really in doubt.

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—

Was Blind Man’s Zoo the Last “Real” 10,000 Maniacs Record?

by KevinLeave a Comment on Was Blind Man’s Zoo the Last “Real” 10,000 Maniacs Record?

The Best Record of 1989: Day 52: #35 10,000 Maniacs, Blind Man’s Zoo vs. #94 Michael Penn, March

Good morning!

Today we’re taking a quick look at records from 10,000 Maniacs and Michael Penn

Note: As many of you know, I recently wrote about a Best Record of 1989 challenge and noted that I’d occasionally write 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’ve mentioned it before, but I’ve always associated 10,000 Maniacs’ very specific, very literate sound with universities. And not just any university, but somewhere like Dartmouth (sorry, Hurricane fans). It’s a sound that, to me, has always felt more at home on a campus with a vibrant field hockey program than on the Billboard charts.

The short version of these earlier records is this: a bit of well-styled jangle pop coupled with Natalie Merchant’s gorgeous voice and thoughtful lyrics. That’s the upshot. The downside is that these often leave you feeling like you’re being lectured to. Merchant can come across like that neighbor who’s usually pretty cool, but will also tut-tut you for not composting enough or not having one of those “In This House We Believe…” signs1. Nice enough and well-intentioned, but it can wear thin.

Cueing this up, I wondered if I’d been remembering them in too harsh a light. After all, “These Are the Days” is a song I associate with travel and adventure, thanks to reading Jeff Greenwald’s “The Size of the World.” Maybe I’d been wrong?

The opening track, “Eat For Two,” is about teen pregnancy, so well, no. But that slick, made-for-radio formula is as delicious as I remember it.

Speaking of which, this is the last record that could be classified as janlge pop, and even here, it’s a stretch in places. This is really the jumping-off point for the more refined pop style of Our Time in Eden and everything that came after.

“Trouble Me” is a fine, if unremarkable, bit of ear candy, and I’m starting to wonder (again) if I’m being too harsh on the band. Those doubts vaporize pretty quickly with “You Happy Puppet.” Musically, it’s right up my alley. It’s polished with the sort of sunny grooves I buy in bulk.

And then I make the mistake of pulling up the lyrics, and well:

How did they teach you to be just a happy puppet dancing on a string?
How did you learn everything that comes along with slavish funnery?
Tell me something, if the world is so insane,
Is it making you sane again to let another man tug at the thread that pulls up your nodding head?

Same story with “Headstrong”…

…and “Poison in the Well”…

(sigh).

Stylistically, it is a great transitional record that does well to tie the two on either side of it together. With the benefit of hindsight, the signs are also all there that 10,000 Maniacs is increasingly becoming a Natalie Merchant backing band. Our Time In Eden would seal the deal, even if the timelines don’t match up perfectly.

A couple of songs feel like they go out of their way to be inoffensive (in the same way that same neighbor might start every criticism with something like “I feel like…”, but overall it’s not enough to sink the record. That title goes to the preachy and overbearing lyrics. Blind Man’s Zoo is a solid effort, but one best consumed in small doses.

I’ll be honest here: here’s everything I know about Michael Penn: His brother is Sean Penn (RIP Chris Penn). He’s married to Aimee Mann, and No Myth was inescapable when it came out. That’s it. He was almost a predecessor to Duncan Sheik, if you remember. All signs point to him being an artist I’d be more familiar with, but here we are.

All signs also point to him taking himself too seriously, but I don’t get that impression when I listen to the first few tracks. The ride takes us through a few folk-y ballads and a couple of up-tempo numbers. It’s all well done, but I’m not getting a particularly strong sense of FOMO here. It’s fine that I’ve waited 36(ish) years to hear this…

…and then we get to the closer, “Evenfall,” and man, talk about ending on a high note! This is a rollicking good time, with barrel piano and an ornate section that’ll have you moving in your chair. Now that’s how you close an album! Where was this in ’89?!

My vote: I have a feeling a lot of people are in the same boat as me here (10,000 Maniacs aren’t bad, have only heard the one song by Penn). I will vote mainly on name recognition and Merchant’s voice. I’m still in the bottom third of the rankings in this challenge, and the first rule of getting out of a hole is to stop digging. My bracket pick and vote will both be for Blind Man’s Zoo.

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—