One of my mom’s favorite stories to tell is about the time she managed to grab some Star Wars action figures for me as a kid. This was at the peak of the (first) movie’s fame, and to hear her tell it, it was something like emerging victorious from a great battle. The reality is that she worked at a clothing store, and her boss let her bail a little early so she could walk down to a nearby toy store. I was never the biggest Star Wars fan (please don’t @ me), but I like this version. It’s early in the AM as I type this, but I can’t remember anything so consuming us collectively in recent years.
Every year, I snort at the Dave Brubeck memes and tell myself I should put on one of his records….and every year, I’m reminded I don’t actually own any. Why my mind thinks I do, I don’t know. Maybe next year?
So, May 4th is a day for Star Wars (and Dave Brubeck!) memes, but it is also Sluttering Day—half celebration, half inside joke enjoyed by Jawbreaker fans the world over. I will definitely be putting on one of their records today. Of course, that happens most days, but that wasn’t always the case with Dear You. Depending on where you were when it came out, most people were consumed with the idea that they’d sold out. I’m as guilty as anyone, but tbh, that was our loss. That record is fantastic.
No Cantina Theme, Jawbreaker, or Brubeck on this list. But we do have the latest from TV Star, Dari Bay, Me at the Zoo, The Level, and Weird Nightmare (among others), as well as a good dose of the usual sonic comfort food.
Whichever one you’re celebrating today, I hope it’s filled with some killer sounds!
This week, Side A is tracks 1-16 (ends with “Lately”). Side B is tracks 17-31.
Today we’re taking a look at Lucinda Williams’ Essence as it faces off against Superchunk’s Here’s to Shutting Up.
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—
When I was a teenager, I was a holy terror behind the wheel. It was hammer down all the time from a kid who could barely see over the steering wheel. Tracks like Superchunk’s “Precision Auto” were the perfect soundtrack. Mac McCaughan had some shit to get off his chest, and I was there for it. Albums like ’93’s On the Mouth were the perfect record for where I was at the time.
Flash forward to 2001: I drive a Corolla, and while I’m not quite at the stage where I call out every sign I pass, it’s close. I’m only 26, but well on my way to becoming old before my time. Not being able to see very well doesn’t help.
Mac McCaughan, on the other hand, sees things perfectly. As he’s racked up the miles—er, years—his writing (and the band’s sound) has taken on a much more reflective tone. He’s still railing against a lot of the issues of the day, but there’s more perspective—the kind that can only be earned by the years (see also: Mould, Bob).
If you like mid-discography Superchunk, you’ll find plenty here to dig. What you see is what you get; no one’s trying to make a concept record. If you’re all in on the early stuff, you might find the edges a little too sanded off, but odds are good you’ve thought that for a while now. It’s easy to get consumed by (waves hands all around), and while fully checking out isn’t an option, trying to care less is sage advice.
I don’t know anyone who claims this as their favorite record by the band, but it’s got a lot of what’s helped them make it to elder statesman status, and with just the right blend of angry and sanguine, it was the right record for them to make at the time.
With Williams, I’m at a bit of a disadvantage here as the music I was listening to wasn’t her speed. Or rather, her music wasn’t mine. At this point in my life, I preferred louder, harder, faster, more from my stereo, whether that was in the form of a band like Bad Religion, or a high BPM count from (insert techno band here). My friend circle also had a total of zero fans of singer-songwriters. In other words, there was no one there to get a record like Essence on my radar, let alone make the case why I might like it (tbh, it likely would’ve been a few years too early, but I’d have come around). It’s also likely that whoever would’ve been making this hypothetical case would’ve been influenced by the record that came before it: Car Wheels on a Gravel Road. A record that has come to be almost required listening for anyone looking to pen a song or two.
Williams released that record in 1998 after scrapping multiple versions to hit a mix of country, rock, and blues. It (rightfully, IMO) earned her acclaim and it influenced generations of songwriters while defining the Americana genre. Essence is the follow-up, and was a radical departure from those expectations.
Essence is much more spare, plain-spoken, and down-tempo. After the high-profile success of her previous work, this record reads as a weird turn. The problem—or rather my problem—is that this is a gentle record made in an era where there wasn’t much space given to such things. Even though I wasn’t listening to singer-songwriter stuff in any meaningful capacity, I had carved out exceptions (see also: John Hiatt). The kicker was it had to have a little oomph. I wanted a track that sounded good while burning up the interstate, not one that evokes images of looking out the window thinking about things. I could see “Out of Touch” fitting the former, but I have to squint to do it.
In a broader sense, this fits in well with what singers like Sarah McLachlan were doing at the time. In other words, writing incredible songs only to set them to what was often lukewarm music.
If there’s any sort of miscarriage of justice here, it’s that Williams also writes incredibly well. It’s a rare talent that can squish an entire story into a verse or two. She was recently included on the NYT list of 30 Greatest Living American Songwriters, and whether you agree with the premise of these sorts of things, it’s hard to argue her warranting a place on there. Essence feels like an odd turn for someone who never really made them.
Bottom Line: I think Williams will carry the day with the voting crowd, and my bracket pick reflects that. However, my vote will likely go to our friends from North Carolina.
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!
Today we’re taking a look at Fugazi’s The Argument and it faces off against Word of Mouf by Ludacris.
Note: As many of you saw, I recently wrote about a Best Record of 2001 challengeand noted that I’d be writing some of these up.
The plan is to do quick hits on each first-round matchup and post them directly to the page. Some will be longer, some won’t, and some might just be a handful of sentences. There’ll probably be a few typos. We’ll also have a few guest posts along the way, so make sure to stay tuned for those!
Check ’em out and let me know your thoughts! Chin wags & hot takes welcome! Sharing and restacks always appreciated.
KA—
If ever there was a tale of two records, this is it. On the one hand, you have Fugazi. As I’ve noted before,
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 those records…
You should know that my favorite Fugazi record is whichever one I happen to be listening to when asked. There are highs and lows in any catalog, but in this case, it’s really all relative.
Some make you angry, some pump you up, and some lean more introspective. The Argument is one of the rare records that can survive that kind of whiplash. Fugazi’s sixth and (probably, but hopefully not) final album is hugely underrated, and it feels like the band finding a way to level up every part of their sound without losing the ingrained angst that made them so great in the first place.
Recorded at Inner Ear with Don Zientara and the band in early 2001, The Argument is a very different kind of Fugazi record than the post-hardcore they spent much of the ’90s perfecting. There’s no equivalent to “Break In” here. The distortion is dialed back, and there’s less screams (If that’s what you’re after, I have good news: “Full Disclosure” is right up your alley).
Want an oddly eerie/oddly infectious guitar line? “Life and Limb” has you covered. That doesn’t mean they softened or softened their take on the world around them. Every part of what made Fugazi special is still here: the off-kilter riffs, the dub-heavy rhythm section, the vocal interplay between MacKaye and Picciotto; really, the ability to splice together different genres and make the whole thing sound easy. Again, nothing new for the band at this point. But on The Argument, all of it sounds sharpened and more practiced.
“Epic Problem” is as explosive as anything on Margin Walker or 13 Songs, and is right in the overlap of the “Dissonant” and “Melodic” Venn diagram of their sound. How they do this, I have no idea; I just know it works. It’s all part of what makes them so addictive. Ditto “Strangelight,” which moves from a slightly disorienting rhythm toward a more sweeping one at the end.
“Oh,” might be the best example of how far Fugazi could stretch without breaking. As far as I know, it’s the only track where Ian, Guy, and Joe all sing (happy to stand corrected if I’m off here!), and they picked a track with some call-and-response drama. Those signs of evolution/progress are all over this album. Like they’re finally ready to try some things they know they couldn’t have pulled off earlier in their careers. And it all makes for one of–if not the- best Fugazi releases.
Look, like everyone else, I would have loved more Fugazi records, but if The Argument is the last we’ll see of ‘em, at least they did it right. I’d rather they went out riding high than with something half-baked just for a little cash. Who could fault ‘em for that?
Speaking of which…
At the other end of the spectrum, we have Ludacris. In real life, I work for a Fortune 100 company, and our CEO sees himself as much more hip than he actually is. You know the type: the guy that wears $1500 tailored suits but pairs ‘em with Vans. He also likes to trot out the fact that he was a roadie decades ago and shows up at SXSW. Which, I mean, Ok. The C-suite! They’re just like us! Sure, Jan. What it really leaves is an overpowering “how do you do, fellow kids” vibe.
We also have an annual celebration in Atlanta. This is really a corporate event disguised as a county fair, and, well, I bring all of this up to mention that Ludacris has played this sort of thing at least twice. “Sellout” used to be a four-letter word back in the day, but with time, age, and change, I’ve softened on that a little bit. But I have a hard time reconciling the idea that he’s singing and dancing for the same people who constantly apply downward pressure to my career.
Look, I have no issue with Luda getting the bag. If they’re paying, and he wants to play, so be it! But I don’t have to like it. He might have hoes in every area code, but you only need to go to one—the 404—to see how low he’ll go for a dollar.
Bottom Line: Fugazi. all day, every day.
Any thoughts on either of these records? Agree/disagree with my takes? Which one of these would you vote for? Sound off in the comments!
Today we’re taking a look at Weezer’s Green album as it takes on Melody A.M. by Röyksopp.
In my head, every Weezer fan is one of these two people. Reductive? Maybe. Accurate, probably.
At any rate…
At the risk of great bodily harm, here’s my tl;dr: Weezer didn’t follow up Pinkerton so much as they ran as fast as they could away from it. This was a good thing.
After the (at best) confused reaction to their 1996 album, Rivers Cuomo and co. went back to the drawing board and reeled things back. The Green Album plays like something of a reset button, a record built to avoid risk at all costs, and one meant to make you forget Pinkerton ever happened. No oversharing from Cuomo or blood-on-the-page type lyrics. No big swings, sound-wise. Instead, we got ten clean, efficient power pop songs that stick to the formula and rarely step outside it.
And for the most part, the plan works.
Clocking in at just under 30 minutes, the record is as streamlined as Weezer ever sounded. Crunchy mid-tempo riffs, stacked harmonies, and guitar solos that mirror the vocal melodies almost exactly. It is tight, polished, and an easy listen. You can hear the influences, too: bright 60s-style vocal hooks sitting atop thicker, fuzzed-out 70s guitar tones. Again, this is the band’s stock in trade, but they’re talented enough that it never feels derivative.
The album peaks early. “Hash Pipe,” “Island in the Sun,” and “Crab” are one of the best three-song runs in the band’s catalog. “Hash Pipe” brings a thick, sleazy riff with just enough bite to give the record some edge. “Island in the Sun” is the opposite; loose, warm, and about as effortlessly catchy as anything they have written. IOW, it’s a weapons-grade earworm. It was in ’01, and it still is in ’26, at least for me, anyway. “Crab” keeps things moving without losing momentum, sticking to the same structure and sticking the landing. I was too lazy to look, but if that was a single, I’m surprised it didn’t fare better. If it wasn’t, I’d be curious to know why.
Either way, that stretch does a lot of the heavy lifting here.
From there, the album settles in, and, well, kinda settles. Nothing falls apart, but not much pushes forward either. Cuomo had traded that raw, uncomfortable writing of Pinkerton for lighter, more surface-level lyrics. Again, that makes for an easy listen, a pleasant one, even. But it also opens the door to monotony, which the back side of the record comes perilously close to. If this is your thing, it’s a bunch of what you love. If it’s not, it can all feel like one big amorphous blob. The band deserves kudos for that consistency, but it comes with a cost. The songs start to blur together, built from the same pieces and delivered in the same way.
Still, I have to think that was the point.
The Green Album is Weezer playing it safe and doing it with discipline. Every choice feels controlled, from the short runtime to the repeated song structures. It makes for a smooth, no-frills listen that never overstays its welcome. You can throw it on, let it run, and not think too hard about it. If this had gotten stuck in my car’s CD player, it wouldn’t have been the end of the world.
If viewed as a comeback record, it does the job. This course correction set Weezer back on track for the next several releases. The highs hit, and even the lows never drag things down. The whole thing moves quickly. Sure, the whole record leans heavily on those three standout tracks rather than the full tracklist, but that trio is strong enough to keep it in rotation.
This is not Weezer at their most ambitious or creative, and in the end, that was the right move. It is Weezer keeping things simple, keeping things clean, and getting back on track.
Bottom Line: Weezer’s up against Röyksopp’s Melody A.M., a pleasant enough record. There were parts that screamed “sync music” to me, but also some total delights like “Eple.” In the end, I can’t see it coming out on top here, but that’s down more to an unfair seeding/match up than anything else. Given a lower ranked/lesser-regarded opponent, it’s easy to see a scenario where this sails through. There’ll be some less deserving records that go through to round 2
Any thoughts on either of these records? Agree/disagree with my takes? Which one of these would you vote for? Sound off in the comments!
You’d be hard-pressed to miss the trend back toward friction. For some, it’s fueled by a nostalgia for a simpler time. For others, it’s pushback against a digital world constantly asking more and more of them. Whatever it is, dumbphones are high in demand. Vinyl is still enjoying a resurgence. Parties where people leave their phones at the door are a thing (we used to just call these “parties” or “functions”). Do they listen to music at these? If not, they should. Listening to cool music with cool people is where it’s at.
A lifetime ago, the airline I worked for did its own cabin cleaning. There are few things that will make you lose faith in humanity faster than this work. There are also few things that make it more bearable than listening to music. We used to do this by taking the interphone, jury-rigging it to stay on (as if someone was talking), and then sticking it in front of a boom box. The radio was usually powered by an extension cord run out from the jet bridge’s cab. In other words, a lot of friction. But also very much worth it.
Why am I telling you this? Well, all those years ago, I lucked into working with some of the coolest guys going. And they liked John Hiatt, which meant we listened to him a lot (and JJ Cale, etc). At the time, they all seemed so old, but really were only about as old as I am now. Most of them have long retired and moved to places like Arizona. I was hoping to be there this coming weekend for a wedding and thought it might be a good idea to look a few up, get caught up, and commiserate about the old days. The universe had other plans, so that’ll have to be some other time.
In the meantime, we’ve got one of the most played Hiatt tracks from those days, no interphone required.
We’ve also got brand new stuff from Doug Gillard, Afghan Whigs, Future Islands, and our pals Brian K. and the Parkway. There’s also some sonic comfort food in the form of Jawbreaker, Push Stars, and GBV.
This week, Side A is tracks 1-14 (ends with “I’ve Got My Mind Set On You”). Side B is tracks 15-29.
Best Record of 2001: Day 24- Basement Jaxx vs. Sophie Ellis-Bextor
Good morning!
Today we’re taking a look at Rooty by Basement Jaxx as it faces off against Read My Lips from Sophie Ellis-Bextor.
Note: As many of you saw, I recently wrote about a Best Record of 2001 challengeand noted that I’d be writing some of these up.
The plan is to do quick hits on each first-round matchup and post them directly to the page. Some will be longer, some won’t, and some might just be a handful of sentences. There’ll probably be a few typos. We’ll also have a few guest posts along the way, so make sure to stay tuned for those!
Check ’em out and let me know your thoughts! Chin wags & hot takes welcome! Sharing and restacks always appreciated.
KA—
Basement Jaxx- Rooty
I’m gonna carbon-date myself here, but there used to be a time when you could buy ringtones for your phone. There was a whole-ass marketplace that sprung up selling (first) 8-bit interpretations of these, and then actual clips of songs or sounds themselves for your flip phone. Was this legal? Beats me, but 25 years ago this was cutting-edge stuff. I did this exactly twice: one was for “One Step Beyond” by Madness and was relatively short-lived. That was replaced by Basement Jaxx’s “Where’s Your Head At?” and it stayed until I got rid of the phone.
Let’s get that one out of the way first: it’s still catchy AF, sounds as good in the club as it does coming out of your car speakers (or phone), etc. Oh, and it samples not one, but two Gary Numan songs. So yeah, 11/10. No notes.
For those that don’t know: this is my kind of house. Think more big, bouncy beats and less bleep-bloop type stuff. It’s usually right in the pocket BPM-wise, and if there’s any sampling, it over-indexes on soul, early R&B, or disco. In other words, it sounds like it’s coming from the future but with a ton of retro pop flavor. That’s some serious dissonance, but when it works, it works.
That’s a good chunk of this record—specifically “Where’s Your Head At,” “Jus 1 Kiss,” and “Get Me Off.” “Do Your Thing” is a little acid house with a really cool jazzy piano and vocal that will remind you of Moby before he decided to double down on being weird (in the studio and real life). Those four alone should be enough to get this through to round two.
Other tracks are a little too chopped up for my taste (looking at you, “Crazy Girl”), but zooming out, I get why people dig them.
And just when you think Rooty can do no wrong, we… get interludes. For those that don’t know, these are one of my pet peeves. I know this was still the early days of CDs, and artists/labels felt like they had to fill that space to justify the extra cost, but no one wanted these. There’s no value add in tracks like “Kissalude” or “Freakalude” other than juicing the track count. These mar what is otherwise a killer record.
I know they usually wipe phones before reselling them, but I’d like to think they missed this with mine and someone, in some corner of the world, charged it up, got it ready to go, and then had their mind blown on that first incoming phone call.
Sophie Eliis-Bextor- Read My Lips
One of the knocks against Basement Jaxx is that they tried to be too much and delved into too many genres. One of the knocks against Read My Lips is that it doesn’t go far enough. Fair enough. This record is solid, if unremarkable, dance pop. It’s the sort of thing you’d hear in the lobby of a downtown Marriott. It’s energetic but never distracting. I will say that I was stoked to see Gregg Alexander had his hand in this record. The New Radicals frontman’s second life as a writer/producer doesn’t get nearly enough attention. Also, “Move This Mountain” has bells in it—something that’s almost always a plus in my book.
I sometimes like to read reviews while giving a record a first pass, and I’ve gotta say I was surprised at how widely this was panned. To hear some of these tell it, Read My Lips was an affront to humanity. Ellis-Bextor already had a solid résumé before going into the studio and more than once had been tabloid fodder. I wonder if some of this was a bit of tall poppy syndrome? I will say that in isolation, each of the tracks is solid. Ten in a row, though, and they start running together. I can’t help but think that if these had been released as 12” singles, the overall reception might’ve been more positive.
At any rate, it’s very much a 2001 dance-pop record—the sort of thing Kylie Minogue (and everyone else) was making at the time after that last wave of SAW records passed through. Ellis-Bextor has a fantastic voice that carries a lot of the load here. This is the sort of record I might put on at work to keep things moving but wouldn’t mind missing a lyric or two if the phone rang or we got a blitz of teletype messages.
If they set out to make a record that people would regard as “pleasant,” mission accomplished.
Note: looks like this was reissued for this year’s Record Store Day as an “RSD First” release, featuring exclusive voice recordings incorporated throughout the album, plus rare bonus tracks and reimagined artwork. Releasing exclusively as part of Record Store Day 2026 on a limited edition red transparent glitter 2LP, each copy will be numbered and housed in a single sleeve with reimagined album cover art, plus printed inner bags featuring new unseen imagery compared to previous reissues. Okay, then.
Bottom Line: On a surface level, both are dance records for different audiences—one very much high-sheen and one a little grittier. But only one sticks with you long after the record is over. Basement Jaxx it is.
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!
Today we’re taking a look at Love and Theft by Bob Dylan as it faces off against Wu Tang Clan’s Iron Flag LP.
Note: As many of you saw, I recently wrote about a Best Record of 2001 challengeand noted that I’d be writing some of these up.
The plan is to do quick hits on each first-round matchup and post them directly to the page. Some will be longer, some won’t, and some might just be a handful of sentences. There’ll probably be a few typos. We’ll also have a few guest posts along the way, so make sure to stay tuned for those!
Check ’em out and let me know your thoughts! Chin wags & hot takes welcome! Sharing and restacks always appreciated.
KA—
Bob Dylan- Love and Theft
The last bracket challenge was for 89, and, of course, there was a Dylan record that year, which meant it would get nominated and be voted in. It was seeded at #66, which struck me as a bit low, but that speaks to the voting bloc demographics more than anything (add 10-12 years on and I guarantee that number’s somewhere in the teens).
Anyway, in the interest of putting my priors on the table early, here’s what I wrote then, and 10 months on, it still rings true:
I know that no matter what I write, no matter how many angels sing, I will get at least one reply telling me that it wasn’t enough, that I hadn’t quite prostrated myself correctly at the feet of Dylan. And how dare I?
There will invariably be some invective telling me to go F myself as well. Which, ok. I mean, I get it. This is a man people love dearly. He could read the phone book, and someone, somewhere, would laud it. Someone else would pore over the lyrics with a Talmudic intensity, searching for hidden meaning from our Minnesota magi.
I am not one of those people.
I can respect the love people have for him. I find his influence on music and pop culture interesting. But I have to be in the mood—I mean, really in the mood—to hear some Dylan, and even then, it’s limited to small doses. My runaway favorite song is this version of “Jokerman,” and most of that is because he’s playing with The Plugz.
If you ever want to summon a certain cohort of music fans, do a Top 100 of all time and leave Bob Dylan off the list. You don’t even have to go that far; your partner can submit one on his own, and you simply have to offer insufficient tribute. Highway 61 Revisited is…fine. I said what I said.
I think part of the allure is that it’s Dylan; you’re just supposed to like him. Whether you actually do or not is a different story. For older fans, I think it’s so representative of their formative years that they’re willing to overlook just about anything (you know, like his voice). And that’s fine! We like what we like. And mortality is a helluva drug. My contention is that in 10-15 years, I’ll ramble on too long about New Order or some ‘91-era band and get a comment about getting back to the home. Whatever.
What you should know is that by the timeOh Mercy ended, I’d had a small change of heart. nothing to shift my overall stance, but it wasn’t awful. It’s all relative, but I’d say the same for Love and Theft, too. These are the early days of Dylan’s current phase, and Love and Theft feels like he’s… having fun? What would the radicals-turned-stockbrokers think of that? Nothing’s gonna dethrone the version of Jokerman I mentioned above, but man, did Lonesome Day Blues and Mississippi come close. The former is noisy and fun, and the latter’s a mid-tempo rocker. There’s some swing (”Summer Days”) on here, but I’m willing to overlook it as having been caught up in the (regrettable) fad of the era. I like the overall blues-y direction this one takes. It feels effortless and easy.
See ya in my inbox.
Wu-Tang Clan- Iron Flag
Wu Tang is for the children, but this record is not for me. These are some of the best to ever do it, but this record feels like they’re going in 9 different directions. Props for the Flavor Flav guest spot, but not even he could save some of these joints. “Da Glock” is an absolute clunker. That said, it is Wu-Tang, and when they’re good? Godamn, they’re good. Check out “Y’All Been Warned” and “Radioactive” for a little bit of what makes’ em so lethal.
Bottom Line:
My bracket pick say Wu-Tang, but Lord have mercy, I’m voting for Dylan here. Who even am I anymore?
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!
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.
Today we’re taking a look at Elbow’s Asleep in the Back as it faces off against The Glow Pt. 2 from The Microphones.
Note: As many of you saw, I recently wrote about a Best Record of 2001 challengeand noted that I’d be writing some of these up.
The plan is to do quick hits on each first-round matchup and post them directly to the page. Some will be longer, some won’t, and some might just be a handful of sentences. There’ll probably be a few typos. We’ll also have a few guest posts along the way, so make sure to stay tuned for those!
Check ’em out and let me know your thoughts! Chin wags & hot takes welcome! Sharing and restacks always appreciated.
KA—
Elbow-Asleep in the Back
My notes have all of two lines on them:
Why this band name?
Debut record.
I should’ve added a third: I was very surprised to see they have almost 1M monthly listeners. How have I never heard of them?! Part of it again has to do with where I was in May of ‘01. My (now) wife was winding down her time on the corporate hamster wheel and looking to try something—anything—new. I was getting ready to start what was supposed to be a 4-month temporary position back home in Portland. Lots of packing, paring down, and gearing up. A debut record from a band with an offbeat name just wasn’t in the cards…
“Any Day Now” kicks things off low-key. There’s a really solid bassline groove, but a lot of layered vocals, which I don’t seem to have much patience for these days. Okay, so not the best of starts, but it is strangely infectious.
“Little Beast” has that same creeping uncomfortableness that Portishead made famous with “Sour Times.” Is it a pop song? Is it soundtracking a spy movie? Why not both? 4+ minutes is about 90 seconds too long, and that leads to my biggest gripe about this record.
We’ve talked about “sameness” before in this series. Not the worst thing in the world, but it’s a hurdle that keeps a lot of okay records from being good ones. Asleep in the Back doubles down on that, and each song is about a minute too long, but they’re also roughly the same. Look, I’m not expecting a metal song in the middle or anything. No one in Elbow needs to rap (seriously, please don’t do that), but a little mixing it up would go a long way. There are a couple of exceptions, but really, the only variety here is the placement of frontman Guy Garvey’s vocals in the mix. Sometimes he’s right up front, and sometimes he’s further back. I’ll carve out worthy exceptions for “Bitten by the Tailfly,” featuring bursts of jagged guitar hooks, and “Newborn,” which bursts into something really atmospheric…except we have to wait almost 6 minutes to get there. Otherwise, this is 61 minutes of what is often diplomatically referred to as “brooding,” “melancholy,” or intense.”
Doing some reading ahead of this, I saw that they were a live band for some time before heading into the studio. I can absolutely see an Elbow concert as being an incredible experience. A lot of bands are good in the booth, only to see it translate poorly on stage. Elbow strikes me as betting the other way. If only we were reviewing concerts instead of records! These days, Radiohead has cornered this market, but Asleep in the Back certainly gives ‘em a run for their money.
Highlights: Any Day Now, Bitten by the Tailfly, Asleep in the Back
The Microphones- The Glow, Pt. 2
On paper, this is a record I should like. They’re on K records→ It’s Calvin Johnson’s label→ I like Beat happening!→ They’re from Olympia.→ Some of the best bands and the best shows I’ve ever seen have taken place right there in Washington’s capital city.
And to be fair, I do… in parts. There are fleeting moments in songs that very much pull you in. A couple of times, I found myself thinking, “This is peak Olympia” (not derogatory). But while Asleep in the Back was held back by its sameness, The Glow Pt 2 is held back by its variety. It’s all over the map. Also, for some reason, the sort of nasally vowels made famous by Isaac Brock were in vogue here for a while. At times, singer Phil Eleverum reminds me of Stephen Malkmus. Other times, it models the worst parts of Brock’s. Johnson’s voice was a million miles away from both. Why didn’t he say something?! Look, I get that cities like this foster creativity in all kinds of ways, but that doesn’t mean you have to try to squish them all into one song, or even onto one record. This project excels at lo-fi sounds. There’s no reason for MBV-esque walls of distortion to pop up like thunderclouds on this thing. The Glow Pt. 2 is magnificent in parts and grating in others.
Highlights: I Want Wind to Blow, The Moon, I Felt Your Shape.
Bottom Line:
This comes down to choosing a wide palette of colors over a more monochromatic one. Variety is the spice of life and all that, I guess. The record cover looks like the sort of sticker I’d put on my car. Plus, The Microphones are from the PacNw, and like we saw yesterday, I’m not above factoring that into the equation… The Glow Pt. 2 it is.
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!
Today we’re taking a look at Pulp’s We Love Life as it takes on Go Forth by Les Savy Fav.
Note: As many of you saw, I recently wrote about a Best Record of 2001 challengeand noted that I’d be writing some of these up.
The plan is to do quick hits on each first-round matchup and post them directly to the page. Some will be longer, some won’t, and some might just be a handful of sentences. There’ll probably be a few typos. We’ll also have a few guest posts along the way, so make sure to stay tuned for those!
Check ’em out and let me know your thoughts! Chin wags & hot takes welcome! Sharing and restacks always appreciated.
KA—
Pulp – We Love Life
I’m writing (at least) the early version of this on my phone in the basement. Nothing says ‘fun’ like being woken up by tornado sirens at 12:30 AM. At least they work, I guess? This was also how I learned that New Order/Joy Division had finally (!) made it into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Cue some pithy bon mot about silver linings, etc.
Anyway…
Last year, Pulp made a lot of waves with More, their first record in over 20 years. They were back, baby, and made sure we all knew it. It’s a good record, and even made the annual Best Of list in this here newsletter, with me writing:
Has it really been 20+ years since Pulp put a record out? Man, time flies. Anyway, in my head, I have this vision of someone my age(ish) seeing their kid come home with this record, which leads to busting out a copy of Different Class, and it becoming some sort of “warm memory.” That won’t happen with me; one kid likes metal, and I’m not too sure what the other one is into right now. And tbh I didn’t get into this band until several years into their hiatus. But they’re back, and we’re all the better for it. More is, well, more. I mean, what else were they gonna call this thing? It’s a little more of a muted affair in places. It’s a little more catchy in others. It’s a little more mature. I guess even Jarvis Cocker grows up at some point? Mostly, it’s more of what most people loved about this band, and a whole new generation gets to experience it for the first time. Viva Pulp!
So that was their triumphant return. We Love Life was were they’d left off. And 2001 seems to have found them in a more sanguine—or at least reflective—spot than previous records. To be sure, they were as self-assured as ever, but Jarvis Cocker and co seem to be less interested in caustic wit and more into things like…trees? And FWIW, ‘The Trees’ is my new favorite song by the band. This is not what people are usually looking for when they pick up a Pulp record, which is might explain why it seems to get overlooked or underrated in any discography discussions. It was until last year, the band’s parting shot, and I wonder if people saw it as going out with a whimper. Maybe people prefer anthems about class over tracks talking about weeds.
I think they made the record they wanted to make, and in the course of doing that alienated a huge chunk of their audience. Again, I’m doing a post-mortem here as I wasn’t a fan until long after they’d gone on hiatus. I’m happy to be corrected!
Either way, it’s a shame really, because, well, its a good record! Maybe not on the same level as Different Class or His & Hers, but it certainly holds it own. Besides ‘The Trees,” “Sunrise” and “Bad Cover Version” are both fantastic. No one needs to wade through 8+ minutes of “Wickerman,” though. Take that out of the mix and one could make a solid case for this rounding out their top 3.
Les Savy Fav-Go Forth
Being terminally online as left me completely internet poisoned. When I saw the avatar for this band on Apple Music, my first thought was…fuuuuuuck. One of them is wide-eyed and huffing on a fire extinguisher, and I thought we were in for the same vein of unserious—and incredibly tedious— shit I mentioned earlier this week. Not so fast! This was a good bit of agitpop in some spots, while in others, if you squint you could almost see a Stereolab record in the background. Even the cover reminds me over Emperor Tomato Ketchup. I have to think this is a one-and-done record for this bracket, but well, we’ve seen what happens wen I assume. Either way, it was a pleasant surprise.
Bottom Line: I gotta think Pulp runs away with this one, but if nothing else I found a new band, and that was pretty cool, too. (Insert second bon mot about silver linings…)
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!
