My usual record store is on the other side of town from me. That’s just enough friction to prevent me from going bankrupt, but not enough to keep me away for more than a week or two at a time.
I’ve mentioned it before, but there is another, smaller, store right by me though — as in close enough to walk to. The only thing I have going for me is that it specializes in metal-a genre I’m not too interested in — and operates on irregular hours. This is truly a passion project, and the owner works in running the store when he can.
Like many shops, he’s taken to social media to tout new arrivals into the store. Most of the time I don’t recognize the covers and can’t read the script on the covers (what is it with metal bands all using the same unreadable font?).
This time was different. Over the past week there was a drip campaign (or whatever they’re called) about RSD— except he was pointing out that they’d only have a couple of RSD records…but also why not come in and grab some other metal/punk/whatever?
The store itself used to be a hole in the wall- literally. it occupied the space between two buildings, with a ~300 sq ft. room on one side towards the back. It was tiny, and fantastic.
And honestly, it still is. They’ve moved into one of the actual spots out front, but the place can still get packed, with everyone digging through different racks. With close quarters like this, you can’t really stand back to back, and instead have to stand just off to the side and reach over. Anywhere else, and I’d declare it too people-y and bail. But I’ve always rooted for this store, and so seeing it full makes me smile. And the line can get long too. That’s partly down to the owner chatting with everyone about what they’re picking up. A 4-5 minute chat about forgotten Dischord bands and Midwest tours? That’s not something you’re gonna get on Amazon. At Safeway this would be obnoxious. Here, it’s part of the appeal.
I almost always go 0-for-everything when it comes to what I walked in looking for. But this is a record store, a place full of things you don’t know you need until you come across them. Sometimes that’s vinyl. Sometimes it’s a chat about shows that happened years ago.
###
This week’s list over indexes on old favorites, but we’ve also got new stuff from Wire (from RSD), Memorials, Kurt Vile, Rural France, Caroline in the Garden, and Maybe So.
This week, Side A is tracks 1-16 (ends with “Roadrunner”). Side B is tracks 17-31.
I don’t watch a lot of TV series, but when I find something I like, I’m all in. Very few shows get to this rarefied air for me- mostly because I have the attention span of a fruit fly. To get me to sit down and stare at a screen (without scrolling) for an hour? Are you kidding me? The Americans did it for me. Mad Men before that. More recently, I’ve gone all in on The Pitt. The first season felt like one long car crash (which it kind of was; it takes place in an ER). This time around is a slow burn and more focused on the staff themselves. All have their flaws, and there’s a hierarchy of angels and villains coming clearer into view with each episode. So yeah, Santos can still F off, but my point here is that somehow, despite the nonstop firehose of chaos, they keep finding a way to push through. There’s a real resilience to these people, and given what’s happening today (waves have literally everything), there’s a lesson in there.
Sometimes the indignities are on a grand scale. sometimes, a smaller one, like a shitty commute. When I was a union rep, we’d often crib a phrase from an earlier era: “one day longer.” It was shorthand for “nothing good comes easy or quickly. You’ve just got to outlast your opponent. A better tomorrow is just over the horizon.”
There’s a lesson in that, too. And while no one can fix the bigger problems alone, we can at least make your morning commute a little bit better.
This week, we’ve got new stuff from Arlo Parks, Prism Shores, Paul Bergmann, Girl Scout, and Parlor Greens, along with a good dose of old favorites like Roxy Music, That Dog, and Velocity Girl. My abiding hope is that someday people will come around to Copacetic. One day…
This week, Side A is tracks 1-15 (ends with “Same Kids”). Side B is tracks 16-27.
Today Jason Kolenda’s got the keys to the truck and will be sharing his thoughts on Opeth’s Blackwater Park as it takes on Spoon’s Girls Can Tell.
Note: As many of you saw, I recently wrote about a Best Record of 2001 challengeand noted that I’d be writing some of these up.
The plan is to do quick hits on each first-round matchup and post them directly to the page. Some will be longer, some won’t, and some might just be a handful of sentences. There’ll probably be a few typos. We’ll also have a few guest posts along the way, so make sure to stay tuned for those!
Check ’em out and let me know your thoughts! Chin wags & hot takes welcome! Sharing and restacks always appreciated.
That death metal isn’t in my wheelhouse should not surprise anyone reading this. It’s a genre that’s never lacked for skill or talent, but I’ve just never found a way in. What I am into is hearing people’s backstories around records. What is it about any given release that resonates? What was so sticky that years later you can’t describe the album without superlatives (or utter contempt)? Where were you at (literally & figuratively both)? What was the on-ramp?
These are parts of larger discussions I could have all day- and as we go on through this year, I hope to have that become a sort of theme here. They’re important, and they matter. Sometimes it really is as easy as learning why New Order is someone’s favorite band, but zooming out, I think it helps us better understand the people we’re talking with, and in 2026, lord knows we could use all of that ya got!
So! We’ve got us a death metal album (a genre I don’t know much about), from a year that was a musical desert for me. Earlier this week, we looked at Converge’s Jane Doe, and I couldn’t finish the record, let alone find anything redeeming to say about it.
I didn’t want to do that again. One, it makes for a shitty read, and two, it’s kinda cheap. Like Converge, I kept seeing people online talking about this album in glowing terms. To hear them tell it. This is a landmark release…Changed the game forever…etc.
And I did want to hear them tell it—or rather hear one person tell it; Jason Kolenda. Some context: I run/edit an online publication on another platform, and Jason is a longtime writer. He’s also one of the resident experts on metal- and all of its subgenres- and more than once, his work has been a helpful resource in bringing into relief the appeal of death metal.
The words below the jump are all his, and appeared as part of a larger (much larger!) series. Whether you’re a long-time aficionado looking for a kindred spirit or someone like me looking for a way in, Jason’s writing should be one of your first stops. It definitely helped me see this record in a positive light.
KA—
Opeth- Blackwater Park
How am I to begin talking about this behemoth of an album? Even though it’s not #1, it’s by far the most transformative album in my collection. This album changed my life forever. That may sound like an exaggeration, but it isn’t.
Before I knew about this album, music was just a casual interest for me, like the average person — nothing wrong with that, of course. I liked a few bands, bought a few CDs once in a while, mostly radio hits and occasionally a suggestion from a friend, and that was that.
But my discovery of Opeth led to extreme metal as a whole, turning music into a lifelong obsession for me. From that point on, it was a hardcore hobby that I spent countless hours on — discovering new artists, albums, genres, making tables and graphs, and writing about them. It turned me into a music nerd. There’s no going back, and I would not want to anyway.
This obsession was far from instantaneous, however.
I never thought about the term “death metal” before discovering Opeth. I wasn’t interested in it and didn’t think much of it. But this album taught me that metal could be a lot of things I didn’t realize before. It could be interesting, complex, thought-provoking, and even mature. Despite sounding instantly off-putting to many, creating something worthwhile could still take tremendous talent. Hell, it could even be beautiful. It wasn’t just for angry, rebellious teenagers.
My Opeth introduction story is probably quite unusual. I had an online friend I used to chat with about music. There was no YouTube or streaming in those days, so we actually sent each other MP3 files that we had downloaded through a chat room. He sent me “Patterns in the Ivy,” a 2-minute acoustic interlude on this album. He proceeded to tell me that this is a death metal band, a term I was barely familiar with. I thought, ok, that’s cool, I like what I hear. I listened to this song a few times and then decided to check out more. I don’t remember what I heard next -it’s possible I just outright bought the album.
I did not enjoy the death growls at first. It took me several months to get accustomed to them. But I did like the heavy moments with clean vocals, as well as acoustic and instrumental sections. At first, I couldn’t stand the death growls and reacted like most average music listeners would—instantly repelled. For a while after that, I just tolerated them, really appreciating everything else this album had to offer. Slowly, though, I started to actually enjoy them.
For as long as it took me to appreciate the harsh vocals, Opeth was one of the best bands I could ask for to introduce me to this style of music. Fast forward to today, and I still think Mikael Åkerfeldt is the best metal vocalist out there. His growls are just monstrous, in the best possible way. His powerful, clean vocals have a hardy, roughness but exquisite richness. He can also serenade the listener with a delicate softness when necessary.
Blackwater Park is a record full of contrasting juxtapositions, both within individual songs and adjacent tracks. “Dirge for November” may be the most obvious instance of this — the meat of the song being one of the heaviest moments on the album, bookended by ultra-delicate plucking and singing on either side. “Patterns In the Ivy” — my unusual introduction to this album — is a 2-minute acoustic interlude sandwiched between two behemoth songs. And then there’s “Harvest,” a remarkable acoustic ballad in its own right. Opeth is pretty good about providing “breathers” at just the right time, before the listener gets too exhausted, and to give time to process long, complex tracks.
The musical contrasts may be my favorite thing about the band, not to mention one of my favorite things in music. But this album also has some of the best riffs in the metal world. “The Funeral Portrait” is probably my favorite, but examples can be found everywhere. Also, Steven Wilson’s production of this record results in a highly polished production, another attribute that would continue to define Opeth’s career.
When I discovered this, I wasn’t used to progressive music at all, other than maybe some Tool songs. The sudden, or sometimes gradual, changes in song structure and the length of songs were another new thing for me to adjust to. Looking back, it’s unsurprising that this took so long to grow on me. It was several orders of magnitude more complex and sophisticated than the Smashing Pumpkins and Foo Fighters that I was used to.
I have often contemplated whether this album should be #1 after all. Going back through my records, I don’t think it has ever been #1 and has been as low as #6. At this point, it’s still #2, although I’m constantly changing the numbers around.
Spoon- Girls Can Tell
What can I say about Spoon that I haven’t already? As far out of my wheelhouse as Opeth is, Spoon is in it. Not a whole lotta boxes they don’t check for me.
Ranking the records is an exercise in futility. A fun exercise, but still… really, the only consensus is that the first one is the worst one (Telephono), and even that’s relative. From there, it gets really subjective. Maybe you got Gimme Fiction at #3, and I’ve got it at #5 (or vice versa). It’s all a game of inches!
I won’t bury the lede here; I’d put Girls Can Tell at 4 or 5. It’s a solid record. There’s no easy pick for standout tracks; it’s a much more subdued record where the tracks slowly grow on you. They all sound “pretty good!” out of the gate, and before you know it, you’re spilling ink on the record and struggling to pick just one as a fave. That’s just how they roll.
But in the Spoon canon, this is a critically important record. It’s the first sign of what was to come. They’d caught a bunch of bad breaks with A Series of Snakes, took a couple of years to rework it all, and came out the other side with a new sound and a new mindset. I once read an interview (and I apologize for not being able to find it/link to it) where they noted that each member brought in new material, and the others had to guess which song it was based on. Sounds derivative, but if anything, this marks where they went from followers to setting the bar.
Intentional or not, it’s a lot less derivative than earlier records leaned toward; there’s a noirish (?) feel to it all. Britt Daniels purchased his ticket for the emotive/evocative train. Musically, there’s grooves for days. A & R reps might not’ve heard a single, but it didn’t matter. Reinvention. Pivot. Whatever. This marks the moment when Spoon went from a band lost in the mix among countless others to one of the most consistently fantastic bands going.
Bottom Line: First, thank you again to Jason for his take! This was a record I could’ve easily dismissed. Hearing a new perspective gave me a whole new appreciation for it. Still not my bag, but I get why it’s so important to so many. I can’t see a scenario where Opeth pulls off an upset and moves on to Round 2, but stranger things have happened! After today, I wouldn’t be bummed to see it.
It’s overdriven pop vs. minimalist country as Ash takes on Gillian Welch
Note: As many of you saw, I recently wrote about a Best Record of 2001 challenge and noted that I’d be writing some of these up.
The plan is to do quick hits on each first-round matchup and post them directly to the page. Some will be longer, some won’t, and some might just be a handful of sentences. There’ll probably be a few typos. We’ll also have a few guest posts along the way, so make sure to stay tuned for those!
Check ’em out and let me know your thoughts! Chin wags & hot takes welcome! Sharing and restacks always appreciated.
KA—
Ash – Free All Angels
Coming into Free All Angels, I expected a blast of guitars and that familiar late‑90s angsty….or something like 3 Doors Down. Honestly, I had no idea what I was in for (I know! I know!). What I didn’t expect at all was how bright and melodic this record sounds. Ash lean hard into pop hooks and glossy production, and it suits them nicely. Open “Walking Barefoot” bounces with energy, driven by big choruses and a reckless sense of fun. The band shifts from power‑pop charm to radio-friendly and back again, without losing its edge. The vocals are gritty, but the melodies push the songs toward the sunny side of the road, not garage rock.
What stands out most is how clean the songwriting feels. Every track swings for immediacy; nothing drags or hides behind fuzz. It’s all overdrive, man. Even when the themes turn darker, the delivery keeps the songs moving with a lift in tone. By the time “Shining Light” and “Burn Baby Burn” hit, it feels like Ash translating youthful frustration into something almost joyous.
This album captures a band embracing melody without apology. I don’t know what Ash was chasing with Free All Angels, but they found it in sing‑along choruses and unguarded optimism. It’s brash, catchy, and a bit sentimental. All the things! It reminds me of someone fondly looking back at a summer stay at the beach.
Gillian Welch- Time (the Revelator)
In the run-up to the bracket kicking off, this came up as a record people should check out ahead of time. There’s usually a lot of those, of course — everyone’s fighting their corner and wants their pet picks to be heard. That’s half the fun! But rarely does someone else chime in and say (really, really paraphrasing here) “If you haven’t heard this record, you haven’t heard music.” I know I butchered that, but what was unmistakable was the endorsement. You gotta love it when someone goes to the mat for a record, book, whatever. So, being one of the people who had somehow made it to 50 without ever (knowingly) hearing Welch, I had to see what the fuss was.
Turns out “Gillian Welch” isn’t just Gillian. It’s her and David Rawlings — her musical and life partner. Welch takes the lead on these songs, her voice steady and unhurried, while Rawlings floats around her with a dry, golden guitar tone.
Time (The Revelator) is ten country songs about heartache, and it’s a fantastic thanks to the duo’s next-level songwriting.
A few songs in, and I would’ve bet my house that Welch was from somewhere like West Virginia — one of those places in a holler that looks to Beckley as the “big city.” Imagine my surprise to learn she’s from L.A. That’s a heck of a pastiche. But the authenticity is never in doubt. These are her and Rawlings putting their all into these songs, and it shows. These aren’t my bag, but I get why the poster said what they did. I suspect that by the time we get through all 64 of the first-round matchups, more than a couple of records will have been flung onto the “sounds of its time” heap. This won’t be one of ’em. Time isn’t holding us, time isn’t after us. Turns out, time is a revelator (and a timeless record).
Bottom Line: Both of these are solid outings. I went with Welch primarily on the endorsement I opened this post with and a little name recognition. I have a feeling this one could easily go either way.
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!
Friday was one of those release days that was like hitting the jackpot. Seriously, it was one of the best in recent memory. Maybe it’s just me, but it’s also always kinda rad about seeing new work drop from bands that have been part of one’s life for decades. And this week, Afghan Whigs, the New Pornographers, and Guided by Voices did just that.
I marked the occasion by doing the only thing I could: I went record shopping. As usual, the list I made ahead of time proved pointless. I found one record I really wanted, a few I didn’t know I needed, and was again reminded to listen to Lungfish more often. It can be weird holding brand new material from a band in one hand and finding another in the bargain bin- Brill Bruisers and Gentlemen were both priced to move, so in the bag they went. I also found Little Feat’s Feats Don’t Fail Me Now, which has piqued my curiosity since seeing Keith R. Higgons’ recent post about it. And of course, I had to pick up a mystery bag. What’s in this one? Who knows! I haven’t opened it yet.
I also want to point out the track from our friend Joel Daniel here. He performs under the name Tinvis, and “Anna”—and the new record– are fantastic. Another reminder that this community is chock full of talent. We’re lucky that way. Shoutout to Kiley Larsen and Mama Mañana Records for helping get it out into the world.
This week, Side A is tracks 1-13 (ends with “Runs to Blue”). Side B is 14-29.
Good morning! Need an antidote for the algorithms? Looking for a place to share the music you love with like-minded people? You’re in the right spot.
For those of you who are new, we kick off every week by sharing what we’ve been playing, and the playlist below is some of what’s been in heavy rotation for me.
As always, thank you to those who have recently upgraded their subscriptions. Your direct support fuels this community and makes a positive impact. Shares and reposts also help!
When you’re ready, joining them is easy. Just click here:
For avgeeks, it’s hard to beat last week’s date run. March 19, 20th, and 21st don’t mean much to most people, but those also happen to be – at least in the US, anyway – written as 3/19, 3/20, and 3/21. And what better excuse to celebrate the Airbus family of narrowbody aircraft (i.e., the A319, A320, A321)? We’re incredibly fun at parties!
At any rate, that got me thinking a bit about the numbers for Playlist 341. I’ve never been a fan of math- I was that stereotypical kid who wailed about taking algebra. Why should I take the time to learn something I’ll never use?! Joke’s on me; I use it almost every day; sometimes I even use it while working weight and balance on flights flown by…A320s. Go figure.
I’d covered Roxy Music’s “Virginia Plain” a little over three years ago. It popped back into my head after watching an episode of Barry that everyone else watched in 2019. Late to the party again. The interwebs tells me the band’s “For Your Pleasure” LP turns 53 today. “Virginia Plain” and “Street Life” are on the records on either side of it.
It’ll be 36 years ago this summer that I first saw Sonic Youth. Two of the band members have newsletters right here on this very platform. A 3rd is in a band that made one of the best records of 2026 (so far). We’ve got 9 months to go, but I’m guessing it’ll make a deep run on my AOTY list. The 4th, Kim Gordon is here with my #1 favorite song off her 3rd album.
It feels like I’ve been listening to Wire for a million years (not true), and they’re back with “23 years too late” for the 19th Record Store Day on 4/18 (very true).
There’s also plenty of brand new 2026 stuff here, including fresh racks from Lawn, Genre is Death, and Weird Nightmare. We close things out with a great new track from our friend Binnie Klein.
There’s more tracks than usual this week (12, actually). Hopefully you find a new favorite or 2 over the next seven days!
This week, Side A is tracks 1–15 (ending with “Mantis”), with Side B being 16–39. Yes, it’s lopsided; sometimes, that’s just how it goes.
Good morning! Need an antidote for the algorithms? Looking for a place to share the music you love with like-minded people? You’re in the right spot.
For those of you who are new, we kick off every week by sharing what we’ve been playing, and the playlist below is some of what’s been in heavy rotation for me.
As always, thank you to those who have recently upgraded their subscriptions. Your direct support fuels this community and makes a positive impact. Shares and reposts also help!
When you’re ready, joining them is easy. Just click here:
One of the biggest pulls of any given song or record is where you were in life when you first heard it. The older I get, the more universal that truth seems. Sometimes that “where” is literal. Ask me what I had for lunch yesterday, and I’d probably struggle to remember. Ask me about the first time I heard The Jesus and Mary Chain, though, and I can take you right back to the exact place (A-hall at my junior high). Last week, R.E.M.’s Out of Time was in the spotlight, but I first heard Green in that same spot. Both bands made it onto the “seen them live” list not long after, and I feel lucky to say “I was there.” I’d like to add Phoenix to that list before it’s too late, too.
Those memories don’t always involve discovery, either. Sometimes they’re about the circumstances you somehow stumbled into. I once drove from Portland to Los Angeles, and as we were backing out of the driveway, my partner in crime announced that we were going to listen to They Might Be Giants the entire way. I assumed it was hyperbole (It wasn’t). It could have been worse! If nothing else, it makes for a fun story.
Those moments don’t stop happening just because you’re no longer a teenager. Courtney Barnett is a perfect example. She’s got a record coming at the end of the month, and if Mantis is any indication, it’s going to make a deep run on the usual year-end lists. My onramp came on the way to work one morning, listening to Hrishikesh Hirway’s Song Exploder, where she deconstructed Depreston. That one held the favorite slot for a long time… until “Mantis” showed up a few days ago. Hirway, for his part, has a new single of his own out as well, which somehow brings everything around full circle.
Romeo Void first landed on many of our radars thanks to MTV. I was too young to make it to one of their shows back in the day, but by most accounts, they were events not to be missed. There’s a bit of secondhand redemption coming via a live album on Record Store Day. No spoilers, but I got to hear an advance copy, and it’s killer. I feel lucky to be able to say that, too.
That’s the thing about songs. They’re rarely ”just” songs/albums/shows. They’re markers along the way: a hallway in junior high, a car heading out on the highway, a podcast episode on another forgettable pre-dawn commute, music video decades ago. Getting older sucks, but the upside is that list of moments keeps growing. And if you’re lucky, every once in a while, you get to say: I remember when…
This week, Side A is tracks 1–15 (ending with “Mantis”), with Side B being 16–27.
How family history, Latin music, and the thrill of crate digging inspired his growing online record store.
Good morning!
Today, I’m sharing a recent conversation I had with one of the coolest people in the vinyl collecting world. We’ll be back to business as usual next week.
One of my favorite vinyl pickups lately is a holiday record that Spanish airline Iberia put out in 1962. If you were to draw a Venn diagram of my life, it would land near dead center. I’ve always been the kid who looked up at planes as they passed overhead, wondering where they were going, and somehow I managed to turn a love of the golden age of aviation into a career. My feelings about records should be pretty well known by now. The cover is even blue, which happens to be my favorite color.
“One of my favorite things about digging for vinyl is the moment you pick up a record and realize it was made somewhere you’ve never been, by someone you’d never otherwise know, and somehow it still speaks directly to you.”
This particular record feels like it has a library full of backstories. Why did an airline issue a record? Was it meant for customers? Employees? How did it make its way to the U.S.? (By air, I’m sure—but who brought it?) How many hands—and holidays—has it passed through along the way?
I can daydream about that all day, but I do know the last leg of its journey: it came from Los Angeles, courtesy of my friend Kadrian Alvarenga.
Look, I know I like to kvetch about the internet. Writing about how it’s atomized us comes easily for me. But for all its faults, it still creates incredible connections with people I’d never encounter otherwise. Kadrian and I first crossed paths online—either here or on Threads—and I was lucky enough to have him contribute a guest post about KISS, where he talked about separating art from artist, and the line each of us draws in those situations.
He was also the writer behind First Pressings, a newsletter chronicling the adventures of life as a vinyl addict. The newsletter wrapped up last December. But, as you’ll see, it was for a very good reason.
Like many of us, Kadrian found solace in vinyl during the pandemic. Already a music fan, he suddenly had both time on his hands and a batch of records he’d inherited from his father. That was all the spark needed to ignite a full-blown passion for collecting.
Soon, he was attending pop-up sales around Los Angeles, first as a buyer and then eventually on the other side of the booth as a seller. At the same time, he was building a following through pop-up sales on Instagram.
Now he’s leveled up again: Latin Gold Records is a full-fledged online store.
Latin Gold Records is an online record shop—and Los Angeles-based pop-up—that specializes in Latin music: salsa, boogaloo, Latin jazz, and cumbia. But Kadrian’s taste isn’t limited to any one lane.
“I carry everything that catches my ear—from funk to punk, rock to jazz, world to weird, and all the notes in between.”
I’ve personally picked up several records from the shop already, and I’m sure there are more to come. It’s been all upside: I’ve discovered cumbia and other genres that were real blind spots for me, along with fun finds like the Iberia record I mentioned at the top.
In our wide-ranging conversation, we talk about the origin story of Latin Gold Records, the surprises he’s encountered along the way, and how inheriting records helped both of us understand our fathers not just as “Dad,” but as people.
One quick thing I want to mention up front: I’m a big believer in businesses giving back—whether that’s the “artistic tithing” we do here or direct support for important causes. Businesses can—and should—be forces for good.
Kadrian has chosen to support CHIRLA, an organization that’s important to him and does vital work advocating for immigrant communities. Currently, 10% of all Latin Gold Records sales go directly to the group.
Getting some killer records is cool enough. Knowing some of that money goes to a good cause? That’s music to my ears.
My original plan was to use this as a good time to “pivot to video” and see how it went. And I gotta say, from our side of the screen, it went great. But we had so much fun bouncing between business and real life that, without context, it might feel a little disorienting (note to self: next time, don’t pick ‘single screen.’). It was like we’d known each other for years and simply picked up where we left off.
I had a list of questions and a rough outline to keep things on track.
That lasted about 30 seconds.
What you’ll hear instead is the raw audio of two music nerds finally meeting, talking about records, and celebrating the thrill of finding the right record at exactly the right time.
Good morning! Need an antidote for the algorithms? Looking for a place to share the music you love with like-minded people? You’re in the right spot.
For those of you who are new, we kick off every week by sharing what we’ve been playing, and the playlist below is some of what’s been in heavy rotation for me.
As always, thank you to those who have recently upgraded their subscriptions. Your direct support fuels this community and makes a positive impact. Shares and reposts also help!
When you’re ready, joining them is easy. Just click here:
Wilco is a band that needs little explanation: they make a record, people love it, repeat. Jeff Tweedy is often mentioned in the same breath as Dylan and credited with helping spark the entire alt-country genre.
Is Yankee Hotel Foxtrot an objectively good record? Yes.
Am I more interested in the apartments featured on the cover than the record itself? Also yes.
I’ve mentioned it before, but this has always felt like a record people liked because they thought they had to. It’s one that any hipster craft beer bar likely plays on repeat (heh). That’s reductive and unfair, of course, and listening again ahead of the Best Record of 2001 bracket, I can see the appeal. “I Am Trying to Break Your Heart” is a classic, but tracks like “Kamera” sound far better than I ever remember them being. I can see myself sitting on the back patio of that bar with some friends, whiling away a summer afternoon. The strings on “Jesus, Inc.” are a nice touch, too. I get it. But I’m still more interested in the buildings.
I say all this to admit that my toxic trait is that (try as I might) I just don’t like Wilco very much.
BUT—and this is a big but—I will 100% carve out an exception for Summerteeth. To my ear, “I’m Always in Love” is the quintessential pop song, and that—more than even something like “I Am Trying to Break Your Heart”—shows the genius of this band.
Wilco is here, but so too is everyone from Television and The Feelies to Heavy Looks—one of my fave WI-based bands. There are also new tracks from Jack Vinoy, Lala Lala, and Inner Wave (among others).
A few of you have asked whether I sequence these as an album or a mixtape. The answer is always yes. In my head, I imagine them being played on your morning commute or road trip. I’m too old to use the word “vibes” as much as I have lately, but, well, if the shoe fits…
This week, Side A is tracks 1–15 (ending with “1880 or So”), with Side B being 16–27.
Kevin Sent 
Leave a comment