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Queen Latifah Shows She’s Here to Stay, and Violent Femmes Show They Never Left

August 1, 2025by KevinLeave a Comment

The Best Record of 1989 Day 50: #62 Violent Femmes, 3 vs. #67 Queen Latifah, All Hail the Queen

Good morning!

Today we’re taking a quick look at records from Violent Femmes & Queen Latifah

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.

In case you missed any from earlier this week:

Day 46: The The’s Mind Bomb vs. the Record Matt Johnson Should’ve Made

Day 47: Grebo vs. Folk? 1989 Truly Had Something For Everyone

Day 48: Fast Jangle Pop Meets Fast…Everything

Day 49: Hey Buddy, Come Anytime

KA—

The pitch: After three years, the Femmes got back together and got back to basics. As good as Hallowed Ground and The Blind Leading the Naked may be, this is a band at its best when it’s stripped down to its core parts. Brian Ritchie’s bass, a quiet beat, and whatever of Gordon Gano’s neuroses he feels like talking about today.

3 (actually the band’s fourth record) starts strong with “Nightmares” and “Just Like My Father.” Deserved or not, Gano always seems like the type of guy we’ll hear about on the 6 o’clock news, invariably with a neighbor describing him as “…nice guy, kept mostly to himself.” Part of that is down to his habit of writing/singing songs from the perspective of some people with, well, some issues. The 1-2 punch of the first two tracks won’t do anything to disabuse people of those notions.

That theme keeps right on going on “World We’re Living In,” with Gano singing:

I can’t go out no more
I just better stay at home
I just better stay all alone
’cause what am I gonna do
if I see someone I’d like to do
something to

“Fool in the Full Moon” might just be the closest thing to a rock song the Femmes ever put to tape. But the rest of it is what most people would come to expect from the band: Gano’s nasally vocals, a mildly chaotic racket, and lyrics that’ll have you singing along until you realize what’s coming out of your mouth.

3 is a fun, enjoyable record. It isn’t quite up to the level of their band’s self-titled classic or even the maudlin atmosphere of Hallowed Ground, but it let everyone know the band was back, and that was enough.

I’ve mentioned it before, but the first time I heard Queen Latifah’s “Dance For Me,” it was thundering out of my friend Kiki’s Honda as he took the corner onto our block at an impossibly high rate of speed.

With A Tribe Called Quest and Jungle Brothers having already dropped releases, it only made sense that another member of the Native Tongues crew would come out, and it was never going to be anyone else but Queen Latifah. And that opening track put everyone on notice that she wasn’t going anywhere.

I’m sure the way I found the record has something to do with it, but to my ear, this LP had an urgency to it. DJ Mark the 45 King put his unique stamp on much of the record, diving deep into the crates, corralling some unruly sounds and reforming them as dance-floor fillers.

This was also the era when MCs became infatuated with house music—sometimes with mixed results. All Hail the Queen is no exception with “Come into My House.” A solid if unremarkable track. And it wouldn’t be a 1989 record without some friends coming along for the ride. Fellow Native Tongues De la Soul are here (“Mama Gave Birth to the Soul Children”) as is KRS-One (“Evil That Men Do”).

The former has something like 14 samples in it-everyone from Otis Redding to Billy Squier. When I said Mark the 45 King dug deep, I wasn’t kidding.

As a whole, All Hail the Queen is solid, but standouts like “Dance For Me” carry a lot of the weight, and trimming a couple of tracks would’ve elevated this from good to great.

My vote: I’m a fan of the Femmes, and the fact that they’re from Milwaukee scores some points for them. Both records are good, neither is great. I went with a nod to my old neighborhood for the tiebreaker, and threw my vote to the woman known to the New Jersey DMV as Dana Owens.

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—

Hey Buddy, Come Anytime

July 31, 2025July 30, 2025by KevinLeave a Comment

The Best Record of 1989: Day 49: #3 De La Soul, 3 Feet High and Rising vs. #126 Hoodoo Gurus, Magnum Cum Louder

Good morning!

Today we’re taking a quick look at records from De La Soul and Hoodoo Gurus

I should be mad at De La Soul—or at least annoyed. I have a particular distaste for the skits that litter so many hip-hop records, which can be traced back to the band’s 1989 record, 3 Feet High and Rising. That said, while those were often used as filler on other releases, they have a certain charm on this record. I’m still not sold on the idea, but they’re at least tolerable. If nothing else, they’re not distracting from the overall product.

Okay, so that’s the bad part out of the way. Now let’s talk about the good. We can talk about Prince Paul’s touch and how he helped sculpt this into something nothing like what we’d heard before. This and Paul’s Boutique ushered in a new era of layering samples like a collage. Now, instead of an MC and a breakbeat, we had soundscapes. Both of these records influenced countless crews that followed. Why one was a hit out of the blocks and took years to get its due is worth its own discussion.

We can talk about the stylings of Posdnous and Trugoy’s flow and the insistence on bringing concepts like peace and harmony back into the collective discussion. Maybe carve out some time to remember how fun “Me, Myself, and I” felt when it dropped. Posse cuts were de rigueur then, and “Buddy” is one of the best. All of those things are true, and each of them matters.

In our Top 100 series, Sam had this slotted in at #77.

My take then was:

Looking back through admittedly fuzzy memory, in the mid-to-late 80s, everyone I knew had three hip-hop records: Beastie Boys’ License To Ill, Run DMC’s Raising Hell, and this. Only one has a Steely Dan sample, and only one sounds as good now as it did then. “This,” of course, would be 3 Feet High and Rising. It’s the summer of love with some 808, and I’m here for it.

I still am.

I lucked my way into a group of avowed music nerds in school. Finding and sharing new (or at least new to us) music became our raison d’être. This is how Hoodoo Gurus’ Magnum Cum Louder first got onto my radar.

I don’t recall this becoming an obsession with any of us, but instead falling into the “it’s got a couple of great songs” purgatory. Those lucky few wound up circulating on mixtapes, with the rest of the tracks confined to the dustbin of history.

If you’re of a certain age, you know the deal; you bought a record on the strength of a good song over two, and hoped for the best with regard to the rest of the album. In this case, I wouldn’t have felt bad being out $8.99 or whatever the list price was, but I was also happy with just having a copy.

In Magnum Cum Louder’s case, that one good song is “Come Anytime.” About a minute in, I realized I was playing it loud and singing along at equal volume (note: If we happened to have been sharing the ordeal yesterday afternoon, I’m sorry you had to hear that).

It’s as good as ever. The hook…the sing-along chorus…all of it. It does well to set the stage for what’s to come. The next couple of tracks (“Another World,” “Axegrinder”) are also pretty good, even if they don’t quite meet that same high bar. They’re nice enough, but feel like a small step down. Get to about track six and realize it’s more of the same. It’s a nice “same,” —” Shadow Me” and “All the Way” in particular— but a same nonetheless.

Magnum Cum Louder is, of course, a play on the term Magnum cum laude, which is a fancy way of adding a “better than average” rider to a degree or diploma. It seems aspirational here, especially when stacked up against the rest of the discography.

A few tweaks here and there might’ve earned it a legit shot at that distinction.

My vote: 3 Feet High and Rising changed the game. Magnum Cum Louder barely caused a ripple in my suburban friend group. It’d be a much tougher call if we were going on the strength of “Come Anytime” alone, but we’re not.

It’s the D.A.I.S.Y. Age for the win.

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—

Grebo vs. Folk? 1989 Truly Had Something For Everyone

July 29, 2025July 28, 2025by KevinLeave a Comment

The Best Record of 1989: Day 47: #23 Indigo Girls, Indigo Girls vs. #106 Jesus Jones, Liquidizer

Good morning!

Today we’re taking a look at records from Jesus Jones and Indigo Girls

One of the fun things about this challenge is revisiting records I haven’t listened to since the first Clinton Administration and learning new things. It does a cynical heart good.

For instance, I had no idea that “Grebo” was a genre, with bands like PWEI, EMF, and Ned’s Atomic Dustbin. It also turns out I’m a fan of it. Who knew?

There’s also Jesus Jones- another band I listened to early and often back in the day, and then forgot about. Besides Right Here/Right Now (which you can hear on pretty much any ’90s hour on the radio), listening to anything else is something bordering on an annual event. Usually, that involves either “Trust Me” (from Doubt) or “Never Enough” (from this record) popping in my head, me thinking “Oh yeah, I should totally play that!,” doing so, and then forgetting it happened for another 364ish days.

So Grebo was a short-lived genre, and each of these tracks feels very much of that (narrow) place and time. The good news is that it was a thrilling time, and the sound here reflects that; it’s kinetic, busy, and confident. The songs all kinda sound alike, but it’s okay because the song rips. Check out “Move Mountains,” “Never Enough,” “All the Answers” and “Info Freako” if pressed for time.

Like PWEI, the sound can be summed up thusly: throw a bunch of genres (industrial, techno, power pop) in a blender. Set to puree. Add samples to taste. Serve immediately.

Mike Edwards’s full-throttle vocals can get old, but they seem oddly endearing in the context of the time. There’s maybe a “Yeaaaah!” too many in every song, but that’s okay. It’s been long enough between listens that I don’t mind it today. To my ear, the record itself holds up, but at least some of that is down to the influence of spins.

Nevertheless.

“Right Here Right Now” casts a long shadow and unfairly saddles the band with the one-hit-wonder tag. Liquidizer itself was unfairly cast aside, a victim of Doubt’s success. An innovative record at the time, it deserves more credit than it gets

This is Jesus Jones on the way up before peaking with Doubt and then crashing out in spectacular fashion with the god-awful Perverse. Liquidizer is their least polished and most alternative, and it’s all the better for that rawness.

Going from the kinetic chaos of Liquidizer to the soulful folk of Indigo Girls felt the way it does when you exit the freeway and go from 70-80 mph back to 35. I really should’ve given things a minute to settle instead of immediately jumping in.

The upside is that the first song is the sublime “Closer to Fine.” It’s also the only song I can credibly claim to have heard before this morning. Like Jesus Jones, the duo of Amy Ray and Emily Sailers have been unfairly cursed with one outsized hit overshadowing much of, well, pretty much everything they’ve done since.

This is their major label debut. It has a basic (not derogatory) sound and an earnestness worlds away from Liquidizer’s winking cynicism. Ray and Seiler’s voices blend beautifully, and the guitar work is clean and out front.

I was happily surprised to hear Michael Stipe providing backing vocals on “Kid Fears.” It turns out the other 3/4 of R.E.M. show up on “Tried to be True,” which unsurprisingly became my favorite track on the reocrd.

This record was more intense than I’d assumed it would be. There’s an occasional edge I wasn’t expecting. It’s nice to hear some drums, ya know? Overall, it’s a solid record, top-heavy with an opener that is still their biggest hit. One could do worse than having “Closer to Fine” as your legacy. But like Jesus Jones, Indigo Girls have made an impact far larger than you’d assume if only looking at their chart record.

My vote: My heart is all in on Liquidizer. My head thinks that people will only remember “Right Here, Right Now,” and “Closer to Fine,” and will choose the latter thinking it’s a better look. My bracket pick is for Indigo Girls but I will be once again voting against my own interests and going for Jesus Jones.

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 The’s Mind Bomb and the Record Matt Johnson Should’ve Made

July 28, 2025July 27, 2025by KevinLeave a Comment

The Best Record of 1989 Day 46: #55 Pop Will Eat Itself, This Is the Day…This Is the Hour…This is This! vs. #74 The The, Mind Bomb

Good morning!

Today we’re taking a look at records from The The and Pop will Eat Itself

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.

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

KA—

Let’s be clear: I love The The’s Infected. Anything after that was going to be measured against an unfairly high bar. That album was a brick thrown through the window of polite 1980s pop — angry, theatric, and intelligent. But this one? It’s less of an explosion and more of a slow burn.

There’s no denying Matt Johnson’s ambition here — it practically bleeds through the speakers. He’s reaching for something here, but that “something” is never really clear. Instead, we get an album that feels pulled in too many directions at once, as if Johnson’s trying to mesh together the raw energy of Soul Mining with the electricity of Infected.

Enter Johnny Marr, who finally joins Johnson after years of near-misses and what-ifs. This should have been a summit of two great minds. Instead, it often sounds like two auteurs trying not to step on each other’s toes. There’s tension, yes — but not always the kind that results in a better outcome. I can appreciate Marr being mindful that he’s a guest, but still…

And yet. And yet! The record refuses to be boring. The opener is a mission statement in miniature — nearly seven minutes long, stitched with the muezzin’s call to prayer, defiant in its refusal to meet the listener halfway. Elsewhere, an operatic chorus materializes, not so much sung as summoned. It’s a fever dream of a record.

But then come the two high points. With Sinéad O’Connor at her best, Kingdom of Rain is a slow-burn implosion — a duet that aches with every note. It’s the kind of song you don’t play often, not because it isn’t brilliant, but because you can’t bear it. This kind of track leaves you reaching for the rocks glass and staring out the nearest window. Then there’s The Beat(en) Generation, a near-perfect piece of pop cynicism. The message is one of glances askance: “The beaten generation/reared on a diet of prejudice and misinformation.” Ain’t that the truth! I know I just got done talking about how different it was from Infected, and how that might not’ve been a good move, but man, I loved this song. And at the risk of carbon dating myself, I bought it on cassingle. I think I still have it?

Infected was a declarative statement. This album is decidedly less so. Johnson may have been just as intent here, but things occasionally get lost in the delivery.

Some bands evolve. Pop Will Eat Itself detonated.

After Box Frenzy — a chaotic mess that sounded like PWEI cosplaying as the Beastie Boys, it would’ve been easy to write them off as a novelty act. But then came This Is the Day… This Is the Hour… This Is This! — and everything changed. Turns out the joke was on us.

The not-so-secret weapon here is Flood. Fresh from manning the boards for Depeche Mode and Nitzer Ebb, he turned PWEI’s unruly collage of pop culture fragments into something cohesive and forward-looking. This album doesn’t play like a follow-up — it plays like a totally different band.

I won’t pretend the members of PWEI had any kind of bars—half the time, they’re rapping like they’re on a sugar high, but that’s part of the charm. They weren’t trying to emulate U.S. hip hop; they were squishing it into their version of British pop with metal riffs, breakbeats, horror movie samples (and an LL Cool J sample, FWIW). The result is a record that feels like channel-surfing through the late ’80s zeitgeist.

The singles still hold up, but what really elevates the album for me is its surprising depth. Between the neon and noise, there’s hints of a darker, moodier version of PWEI. Tracks like “Inject Me” and “Wake Up! Time to Die” are definitely not party tracks, suggesting a band more self-aware than they were ever given credit for.

This is The Day… is the record Matt Johnson should’ve made. So yes, dig it out of the cutout bin and give it a spin. Honestly, it never sounded better.

My vote: I wanted to like Mind Bomb when it came out. I loved (!) The Beat(en) Generation, but there rest of it never really landed with me. As noted above, I’m sure some of that is the unfair comparison to Infected. It is what it is. Meanwhile, PWEI did the opposite; they followed up a mediocre record with one hitting on all cylinders. My bracket pick and vote will be going to PWEI.

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—

Discussion: What’re You Listening To?

July 28, 2025July 27, 2025by KevinLeave a Comment

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.

As always, thank you to those who have upgraded your subscriptions this past week. Your direct support fuels this community and makes a positive impact. Shares and reposts all help as well! Thank you!

When you’re ready, joining them is easy. Just click here:

I want more music!

On to the music:

For those of you who are new, we kick off every week by sharing what we’ve been playing.

The playlist below is some of what I’ve had in heavy rotation. This week found me listening to a ton of new (like, brand new) releases from the likes of Freezing Cold, Old Moon, and Smut. Always a good thing!

Now it’s your turn.

What caught your ear this week? Any new releases or shows you’re looking forward to?

Whatcha got? Share your thoughts in the comments!

FTA: A Quick Look At The B52s’ ‘Cosmic Thing’ Album

July 25, 2025July 23, 2025by KevinLeave a Comment

Hurry up and bring your jukebox money!

Good Morning!

As part of the Best Record of 1989 challenge, we’re taking another look at The B52’s Cosmic Thing. This originally ran in June of last year, and has only been lightly edited for today.

Tomorrow marks 35 years since The B52s released Cosmic Thing, their fifth full-length studio album1 and the first made without founding member Ricky Wilson.

After an incredible three-record run, the B-52s had carved out a place as cult favorites and the perfect soundtrack for any party—out of bounds or not. However, tragedy struck the band when Wilson passed away. The remaining members finished the fourth album but didn’t tour to promote it or really do much with it at all.

We would go to radio stations basically to beg them to play the song. Even the record company thought it was too weird. I thought it was the most accessible thing we had done.

The B52s’ Fred Schneider

The album signals a shift in the group’s style. Wilson’s death was a shock to the system. The quirky lyrics and party band mood were still there, as was the big hair. But this record pivoted to more sophisticated sounds and heavier grooves. It was met with lukewarm critical reviews and low commercial sales and is often overlooked in discussions about the band. If anything, it’s very much a record occupying a liminal space in the band’s discography and marks the boundary between Ricky’s records and the ones that came afterward.

After Wilson’s death, no one would’ve blamed the B52s for calling it quits. Indeed, they almost did. Raw with grief, the band pushed on and released 1986’s Bouncing Off the Satellites, a record that even today has never quite washed off the ash of loss it was covered in. It’s a record from a party band who felt like doing anything but.

Camp and a good time were two of their calling cards, all packaged in lovely new wave sound. Those were largely absent on Bouncing, leaving fans wondering what—if anything— was next.

Like the band, I found this record in a liminal space in my own life. In the fallout after my dad’s passing, my mom and I somehow found ourselves at K-Mart, of all places. Turns out that even in the throes of grief, you need things like potting soil. On that trip, I got a scooter and a copy of this on cassette. I don’t remember asking for either. In hindsight, I think as a recent widow, my mom just wasn’t sure what to do, and maybe throwing some gifts at it all would help. The scooter lasted a matter of months. The cassette is upstairs somewhere as I type this.

📻📻📻

“I lived in a house across the pond from Keith [Strickland], and I’d canoe over to his house…he played me a couple of things, and then we all got together. We said, ‘This is for us, for our healing, and this is for Ricky.’ It was kind of miraculous that we came back together.”

Kate Pierson

Flash forward 3 years, life is better, though trying to navigate high school in the late 80s was, um, something. Meanwhile, at the urging of Keith Strickland, the group decided to give it another go. You never really know what you’ll get with the B52s (this band gave us everything from ‘Private Idaho’ to ‘Quiche Lorraine,’ after all), and the tracks on Cosmic Thing were no exception. Camp and quirk were out, traded for a much more polished, full sound. New wave was swapped for pop. Much of that was down to the production combo of Niles Rodgers and Don Was, with the legendary Chic guitarist giving the record plenty of funk and Was adding touches of pop magic throughout.

Sound aside, the record also marks a departure from the band’s vocal stylings. Whereas before, they’d done a lot of call-and-response-type stuff or had either Cindy Wilson or Kate Pierson singing alone, this time, the producers had them singing together on tracks like ‘Channel Z,’ ‘Cosmic Thing,’ and ‘Deadbeat Club.’ And by together I mean so closely in tune that listeners would be excused for thinking it was one wonderful voice.

If Bouncing Off the Satellites’ sound signaled the start of the transition, Cosmic Thing represented a clean break.

The lead single, ‘Channel Z,’ with its thumping bass, is infectious and reminds one of ‘Mesopotamia.’ It was purpose-built to be a dancefloor filler. Nevertheless, it fizzled on the charts, not even breaking into the Hot 100.

The title track did a little better, quelling some fears, but it would be the third single that changed everything.

That single the band had such a hard time selling to radio stations?

It was ‘Love Shack.’

The song took its sweet time to work its way up the charts, taking 2.5 months to work all the way up to #3 on the Hot 100 before starting its reentry back to earth. But it’s also never really left the airwaves and can still be heard fairly regularly today.

If there was any question that this was a comeback record, ‘Roam’ erased those doubts. The follow-up to ‘Love Shack’ also made it all the way to the third spot in early 1990 and helped the record peak at #4.

‘Deadbeat Club’ was the last of the singles and made it to #30. It’s also the most wistful track on the album—which, after a decade together, probably makes sense—and if forced to choose, is the one track that’s out of place here. That’s not to say it’s bad—it’s not—but it’s different. Even the best of party bands is entitled to a little reminiscence.

📻📻📻

35 years on, it would be easy to call Cosmic Thing a statement record, and one that marked not only the band’s comeback but their ascent into pop stardom. That’s not quite how it played out, however. Cindy Wilson left in 1990 to focus on her family. The band, now a trio, released 1992’s Good Stuff, only to be met with mediocre sales and middling reviews. Wilson would eventually return, and the band would return to the studio…8 years later. In 2006, they began work on what would become 2008’s Funhouse. It had two singles make the dance charts but is largely forgotten otherwise.

So, where does that leave Cosmic Thing in the grand scheme of things?

It most certainly is a comeback record, and it made clear in no uncertain terms that the band was back (they are literally doing a final run of shows as I write this). Perhaps more importantly, on this record, the band sounds like they’re back to enjoying themselves again.

1989 was as good of a time as any for the band to take some risk and break some new ground. Cosmic Thing is a record that is a little introspective, a bit autobiographical, and a lot of fun.

Effie, Madge, and Mabel would approve.

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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 albums by The B52s? Share your thoughts in the comments!

Thanks for being here,

Kevin—

Jungle Brothers’ ‘Done By the Forces of Nature’ takes on a force of nature

July 24, 2025July 23, 2025by KevinLeave a Comment

The Best Record of 1989: Day 44: #90 Roy Orbison, Mystery Girl vs. #39 Jungle brothers, Done By the Forces of Nature

Good morning!

Today we’re taking a look at records from Roy Orbison and Jungle Brothers

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.

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

KA—

Let’s talk about Jungle Brothers’ second album. Done by the Forces of Nature isn’t just their best—it’s their crowning achievement. IMO, it’s conscious rap’s finest hour.

Hyperbole? Maybe. But I’ve listened to a ton of albums over the years, and I can’t think of one this consistent from front to back—fifteen tracks, and not a single dud in the mix. No filler. No skits. No middling nonsense. Just bangers. It never gets boring. It never stalls out. It’s sonically rich and wide-ranging. Even the cover reminds me of a happier era.

Picking a pull track here is tough. If pushed, I’d go with “Sunshine” and the infectious “What U Waitin’ For?”. If you’re old enough to remember house parties, this’ll take you right back to being squished into the front room with everyone. And of course, this being made when it was, there’s a group track, featuring Q-Tip, Monie Love, Queen Latifah, and De La Soul. It’s pretty much the full roster of the Native Tongues crew just vibing.

The production is textbook; especially with regards to sampling. Sure, you’ll recognize the samples, but they’re chopped, layered, and flipped into something new. And is that a sample of Junior’s “Mama Used to Say” on “Days 2 Come?” You better believe it. Magic. This was back when producers were alchemists, not just playlist DJs with a loop pack and a laptop. The sample of People’s Choice’s “Do It Any Way You Wanna” on “What U Waitin’ For?” is (chef’s kiss). On a sidenote, this is also fuels Public Enemy’s equally fantastic “Shake Your Booty.”

Sound-wise, you’ve got a sizeable dose of funk, jazz, and—less common at the time—Afrobeat, which fits well with the album’s Afrocentric vibe. But here’s the deal: it never gets preachy or self-righteous. None of that aggressive posturing some so-called “conscious” acts fell into that just got exhausting after a few tracks. Jungle Brothers recognize that rest is resistance. It’s okay to cut loose once in a while! It’s grounded and positive in a way often missing in modern rap.

This is the record people are thinking of when they talk about conscious, alternative hip-hop. It’s the blueprint, but somehow, still underappreciated. Maybe even forgotten in some circles? I’m sure some of that is down to its (relative) unavailability, which is a shame.

If you’ve never heard it, fix that immediately (you can find it on YouTube). If you have—listen again. It’s even better than you remember.

Until now, the only track I’d heard from Roy Orbison’s Mystery Girl was the hit “You Got It,” which seemed everywhere back in the day. With his operatic voice, Orbison has always seemed out of place in the world of rock. That’s not to say his voice is not stunning, only that he’s a square peg trying to fit in a round hole. He’s unique; I’ll give him that.

Mystery Girl was a comeback record in every sense of the word. After 10 years and a run of not-so-great releases, he put out what would be one of his best records. Unfortunately, it would also be the last one recorded while he was alive. Released posthumously, it was finished just a month or so before he passed away.

At the risk of being crass, if you’re going out on a high note, this is the way to do it. I’m not all that familiar with Orbison’s body of work, but taken in isolation, Mystery Girl works. An armada of talent put this together, including (at least) Jeff Lynne, Tom Petty, and the more famous half of U2. Bono and The Edge wrote “She’s A Mystery to Me” for Orbsion, and Bono produced the song.

With a roster like this, there’s always a risk of an album coming across as disjointed, but listening, I’m surprised at how consistent it sounds. There’s no shortage of sheen here—it’s a Jeff Lynne record, after all—but it doesn’t detract from things. The horns on songs like “The Only One” give it a nice Memphis sound.

Overall, it feels like the epitome of an Orbison record. Too bad he never got to see everyone enjoying it.

My vote: Orbison went out on a high note, but Done By The Forces of Nature is a force of nature. By bracket pick and vote are going to Jungle Brothers.

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.

A Punk Icon and Industrial Band Walk Into a Bar…

July 23, 2025July 22, 2025by KevinLeave a Comment

The Best Record of 1989, Day 43: #26 Bob Mould, Workbook vs #103 Skinny Puppy, Rabies

Good morning!

Today we’re taking a look at records from Bob Mould and Skinny Puppy

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.

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

KA—

The first time I heard Husker Du’s New Day Rising, it was like a kick to the head. The blast furnace riffs, the distortion, the vocals—the record was a revelation. I couldn’t get enough and went on to devour any record of theirs I could find.

The first time I heard Bob Mould’s Workbook, I was surprised. I’d been looking for more of the same and instead got… an acoustic guitar? And was that a cello? WTF was going on here? Where was the feedback? The molten lava feedback? Had Mould gone pop?

Maybe. Or maybe he was just tired of being angry. Either way, Husker Du was dead, and Mould was starting anew. In his autobiography, “See A Little Light,” he notes, “I sensed there was a part of the punk audience that would feel betrayed.” I’m sure there was plenty of that (it’s worth noting that when seeing Sugar a few years later, he emphatically stated that they would NOT be playing any Husker Du songs), but if anyone felt betrayed, that’s on them.

Artists are allowed to pivot, are they not?

I didn’t feel betrayed per se— I hadn’t been a Husker fan that long, anyway. Even if that was justified, I’m not sure I’d put in enough time for it to be justified. It was a case of not knowing what to do with what I had in my hands. I was an angry/angsty teenager, and records like New Day Rising fit right in with that. Workbook opens with a 2(ish) minute acoustic number. This record was appealing, but it was also much more (relatively) poppy. Those two things did not align for 14-15-year-old me.

Much like the Grinch, whose heart grows two times bigger, mine opened just enough to let this record in. It took a few listens and more than a few renewals from the Beaverton Library for that to happen, but I eventually came to love this record.

The aforementioned acoustic track (“Sunspots”) is fine, but things really kick off with “Wishing Well,” which to my ear initially felt like a feedback-free return to form. “See a Little Light” is, for my money, the most accessible track Mould has ever penned. I’m talking about mainstream audiences here, btw.

“Poison Years” is a preview of what was to come with Mould’s next project, Sugar, and proves early that this wouldn’t be all mandolins (or whatever) and pastoral moods. It was all right there; it just took a few listens for it to click for me. Mould is supported by Tony Fier and Tony Maimone here, and they do well to both support him as he strikes out on his own and keep him tethered (this isn’t the last time we’ll see Maimone in this challenge, btw).

And lest anyone still feel betrayed, the swirling maelstrom of the closing track, “Whatever Way The Wind Blows,” offers one last chance to see that the patented sound hadn’t died; it‘d just changed form.

My youngest son recently asked me if he could go with his friends to see Pantera play. My official on-the-record answer was that I needed more info (who, what, here, all the things we’re supposed to be asking). My unofficial answer was “hell yeah.”

My own experience with shows means I require clearing a pretty low bar to get permission. Really, it just involves listening to my prepackaged bit about safety, sticking together (he’s going with friends), and serving up my boilerplate speech about wearing earplugs. Luckily, a lifetime of him hearing me say “What?” makes this an easy sell. But really, I just want him and his brother to have the same transformative experiences I did.

In the winter of 1990, I had a chance to see Skinny Puppy perform. I’m intentionally using the word “perform” here instead of the (linguistically) easier “play.” It was as much a performance as a concert, and it completely rearranged my mind in all the best ways. The kids today would describe it as unhinged.

You could say the same thing for their records. Bites was my on-ramp to the band, and “Assimilate” is still one of my go-to records anytime I’m in the mood to hear something industrial. Many of those elements were still in place on Rabies; Nivek Ogre’s vocal stylings (half growl/half underwater), film clip dialogue spliced into tracks, and synths best described as vaguely menacing. There is an art to creating music like this, and Skinny Puppy are master craftsmen.

Opener “Rodent” starts things off on just the right note. Ditto “Hexonxonx.” You want industrial dance music? You’re gonna get industrial dance music. “Worlock” comes across as something Front 242’s evil twin made. It’s magnificent.

Ministry’s Alain Jourgensen produced and contributed here, and depending on your tastes, either enhances the order or detracts from it. This was the same era as “A Mind Is a Terrible Thing to Taste,” where our Al was shifting further away from synths and more towards blinding speed and off-the-charts BPMs. That works well in limited doses, but feels out of place in spots. And that’s the rub; as a fan of the band, this is a record I enjoyed, but don’t return to the same way I do Bites, Viva Sect VI, or Remission. I like my Skinny puppy synth-y, thank you.

Tracks like “Tin Omen” would be right at home on A Mind…, but on Rabies, they feel a bit like an odd man out. Still, it sounded great live; I just wish I’d worn earplugs.

My vote: To varying degrees, both of these records represent a shift in style(s). Rabies is more of a transition, while Workbook is almost a clean break. There’s really not much other common ground here.

Workbook took time to grow on me, while Rabies never truly landed the way earlier records had. I played it early and often, but it was more about skipping to tracks I liked than letting it play all the way through. Workbook was enjoyable enough to clear the hurdle of my preconceived notions, while Rabies clipped the bar. My vote will be for the former.

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—

Today’s Matchup: Music With a Message Takes on A Feel Good Record

July 22, 2025July 21, 2025by KevinLeave a Comment

The Best Record of 1989: Day 42: #58 Boogie Down Productions, Ghetto Music: The Blueprint of Hip Hop vs #71Young MC, Stone Cold Rhymin’

Good morning!

Today we’re taking a look at records from BDP and Young MC

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.

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

KA—

BDP—and, by extension, KRS-One—have always been lost on me. I have been much more interested in his role as a sort of hip-hop ambassador emeritus and the work he’s done in/for the community than I have in his work as an MC. This is not an indictment of his talent but a testament to where I was in life when he hit.

In 1989, things like “conscious rap” and a return to core principles weren’t on my radar. Sure, I’d take all the boom bap you could give me, but I was more into the beats (and bass) than anything else. Lessons and teachable moments? No thanks. And let’s be honest; as a teenager, hearing rhymes about “bitches” and light crimes was probably more thrilling than anything that would have opened my mind or raised my consciousness. I’m not saying that was cool; I’m just saying that’s how it was.

All that aside, there was a TON of hip hop to pick from in ‘89. We’ve already seen records from LL Cool J, The D.O.C., NWA, Biz Markie, Beastie Boys, with more on the way. No one was left wanting, regardless of what you were looking for in an MC or crew.

So while I was off misspending my youth, KRS-One was spreading a message to anyone ready to hear it. After the landmark Criminal Minded and By All Means Necessary, BDP came back for its third record in as many years: Ghetto Music: The Blueprint Of Hip-Hop.

The record has a dancehall/reggae flavor, reinforced through the samples used and lyrical cadence. Those easy rhythms support some harsh truths and real talk as KRS-One and co. take on all comers. No one’s safe; sucka MCs… crooked cops…you name it. The theme here is peace through strength. To achieve anything worthwhile, you must be willing to fight for it. “World Peace” throws an exclamation point on that, with wit, a deceivingly soulful beat, and a good dose of horns, oh, and a refrain of:

If we really want world peace
And we want it right now
We must make up our minds to take.. it..

That message was on time in ‘89 and is particularly relevant today. I might’ve passed on BDP back in the day, but Ghetto Music: The Blueprint Of Hip-Hop is too important to leave on the shelf.

The easy line here would be to note that Young MC had a massive hit with “Bust a Move,” and that was that. We could also talk about the chatter calling him an industry plant and grumble about his doing ads for Taco Bell and Pepsi. Doing ads might raise hackles, but they make financial sense. And who better in the game to pencil that out than someone with a (checks notes) economics degree from USC? WTF? Wasn’t everyone in ‘89 trying to talk about how street they were?

Maybe, but is it better to have one massive hit or a string of tracks the heads deem essential? One acts as a de facto annuity, and one gets you…props.

Depending on the criteria, Marvin “Young MC” Young had more than one hit to his name, helping pen some hit tracks for Tone Loc you might have heard. Even on this record, there were no less than six singles. I’ll be damed if I can remember more than two of them (“Principal’s Office” was also pretty good).

And the truth is, Stone Cold Rhymin is pretty good too. Some of the bars sound dated, as does the flow, but I’m listening to this as I type, and the overarching sentiment is one of surprise and mild delight. This isn’t half bad! Reading the liner notes, it looks like our man also had plenty of help; Mario “Mario C” Caldato Jr. is in the mix. Flea shows up. Wild. N’Dea Davenport of labelmates Brand New Heavies appears on “I Come Off.” There’s a lot more here than just the refrain of “if you want it, you got it, “ and a girl in yellow dancing on Arsenio Hall.

As much as I love that song (yes, really!), listening to it today, I’d dare say it’s not even the second or third best track on the record. The title goes to “Know How.” Young gets some help from the Dust Brothers, and using a sample from Shaft and the infamous Apache drum break, they deliver an absolute Banger.

Say what you will about Young MC, but he deserves credit for putting together a feel-good record that never tried to pretend it was anything different.

My vote: One of these records reinforced my (preconceived) notions about it, while the other demolished similar thoughts. BDP is good, carries a worthwhile message, and still just isn’t my bag. It is what it is. Young MC, meanwhile, put out a record far better than I remember/would‘ve given him credit for. I never owned either, but I am a little bummed it took me almost 40 years to dig into Stone Cold Rhymin’.

In sum, you’ve got some music with a message and a feel-good record. I have a feeling this is one match where people will vote for what they perceive as the more ‘real” record. Using that metric, BDP is the winner hands down, and my bracket reflects it.

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—

Are The Stone Roses the Most Overrated Band in This Tournament?

July 21, 2025by KevinLeave a Comment

The Best record of 1989 Day 41: #7 The Stone Roses, The Stone Roses vs. #122 Lounge Lizards, Voice of Chunk

Good morning!

Today we’re taking a look at records from The Stone Roses and Lounge Lizards

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

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

KA—

If this were a tweet, I’d sum up this record thusly: Incredible first three tracks. Pretty weak run in the middle, before pulling out the flat spin and redeeming itself. Things are capped off with one of the filthiest grooves of the era. Particularly good if you happen to be off your face while listening.

Well, Twitter (still not callin’ it X) is an absolute dumpster fire. You’ll have to bear with me as I work my way through the reocrd.

The Stone Roses (the band) and The Stone Roses (the record) were both served up to us fully formed as things we were somehow required to like. I’m not sure who the invisible tastemakers were who deemed it so, but here we are. And there we went—to Tower Records to each get a tape or CD of our own. Copies just wouldn’t do, you see.

So! You have a record with absurdly high expectations, PR buzz ripping through my part of the world, and cassette in hand. Now what?

Well, you should know that (depending on mood) your Fast Forward and Reverse buttons are going to get a workout. The opening track, “I Want to Be Adored,” is a slow burn, building up slowly until bursting open with some of the best sounds on the record. It’s short on lyrics and long on mood, and it’s awesome—though I’m not sure I would’ve slotted it in at A1.

“She Bangs The Drums” is a lovely bit of pop that sounds like the band either rooted through their parents’ record collection or fell into a time machine set to 1967. It’s bright and “up,” a strong contrast to the moodiness on the rest of the record. It’s a goofy love song about a guy in love with a girl drummer, but hey, who wouldn’t want that? “Waterfall” is…okay… It rounds out a solid opening trio. And here’s where things take a turn…

“Don’t Stop” is frankly awful, with “Bye Bye Bad Man” only slightly better. At 53 seconds, “Elizabeth My Dear” is about 52 seconds too long.

The opening riff of “(Song For My) Sugar Spun Sister” sounds like another song, and trying to figure out what it is has been driving me bonkers. If you have any ideas, please comment!

At any rate, the song isn’t terrible. And it’s not awesome, either. Better than the three that precede it, but that‘s a bar low enough to be a tripping hazard.

Right about the time your fast-forward button will be begging for mercy, comes ”Made of Stone,” and not a moment too soon! It’s strangely uplifting and a nice break from what we’ve just been through. While looking at the lyrics, I learned this track is supposedly about the car crash that took artist Jackson Pollack’s life. Go figure.

We’re right back at it (hitting buttons, that is) for “Shoot You Down.” This strikes me as one of those songs someone brought to the studio and either made a compelling case for or lost a bet. Dealer’s choice.

I vaguely recall a bit of indignation at “I Am the Resurrection.” 1989 America was a particularly pious one, and thinking about it now, I wonder if that became part of the record’s appeal for us? Nothing ships units like a bit of rebellion. At any rate, opinion on the track itself was split in my circle, with people either really digging it or barely being able to stand it. I was firmly in the former camp, and still am. It’s not the best song on the record, but no matter, it still works. At 8+ minutes, it’s entirely too long and does devolve into a weird jam band type thing, but in 1989, this was about as close as I was gonna get to digging anything of the sort, my love for the Grateful Dead still being several years off.

The original release didn’t include “Fool’s Gold,” but I’m gonna call an audible and pretend it did. Why? ‘Cause it’s incredible, that‘s why. I know it‘s not for every taste, but it was right up my alley. Mani’s Bass? On point. Reni’s drumming? Off the charts. John Squire’s guitar work is good too, but it’s the rhythm section that carries it.

That this record is seeded at #7 for this tournament tells me two things: nostalgia has a long shelf life, and that maybe there was something to that PR campaign I mentioned up top. If nothing else, it’s got a long tail. This is a solid record, but is it #7 seed good? I’m not seein’ it.

When I think of jazz, I usually think of either Thelonious Monk or the poppier side (e.g., George Benson). The sort of “this is a work in progress, and we’re not really sure where it‘s going, but we’ll have fun along the way” stuff is kind of a blind spot for me. Doubly so anything made after the Eisenhower administration. It always feels like a squonk too many, or just dissonant enough to turn me off. The idea that you‘re supposed to see the notes between the notes (or whatever) always felt like a papering over for what was most likely a jam session by the local chapter of psychonauts.

There’s a third lane as well; the one that evokes images of places like New York at dawn, the sort of grainy image with the early light of, say, 6 AM, a taxi (obvs), and steam coming up through the vents. It’s this sort of noir imagery that I couldn’t shake the entire time I listened to this. It’s the sort of record that could only be made in NYC (note: I haven’t looked to see if it was or not).

Sure, there are plenty of squonks and odd notes, and a few tracks suffer from a touch too much sax (‘Sharks”), but there are some fun things like elements of blues here. “Tarantella” is what you’ll hear as you’re walking into the best funhouse you’ve ever been to. “A Paper Bag and the Sun” is almost too esoteric for its own good (notes between the notes and all that), but somehow managed ot become my favorite track on the record.

In the end, that smiling sneakiness is what made this such an enjoyable listen. Will I come back to it? It beats me, but I wouldn’t be surprised to find myself using it to soundtrack a Saturday morning breakfast. I would probably fast-forward through “Sharks,” though.

My vote: A lounge Lizards win would be a hell of an upset—and stranger things have happened— but in this case, I think name recognition will carry The Stone Roses far further than the record alone. And I need every win I can get, cheap or not. My bracket pick and vote will be for them.

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—