Tag: Playlists

New Order’s ‘Technique’ | A Quick Look at the Band’s Seminal 1989 Record

by KevinLeave a Comment on New Order’s ‘Technique’ | A Quick Look at the Band’s Seminal 1989 Record

On their fifth release the dance rock pioneers hit their peak

Album art courtesy of Qwest Records

Good Morning!

Today we’re taking another quick look at ‘Technique’ by New Order as it takes on Billy Joel’s Storm Front on Day 29 of the Best Record of 1989 Challenge.

There’s not much point in burying the lede here; this lookback won’t come close to being objective. If you’ve been with us for more than a few weeks, you know my love for this band and are keenly aware that On Repeat Records could devolve into a New Order fan page at any moment.

That said, this record is a massive achievement for the band at a time when not much else was going right for them-certainly not internally, anyway. To put something out amidst so much strife and financial pressure alone would be worth noting. That it is some of the best work they’ve ever produced makes it all the more remarkable.

Most people will remember March 24th, 1989, as the date the Exxon Valdez ran aground. I remember walking to the closest shopping mall to get tickets to see New Order.

That was the closest Ticketmaster outlet, and I was probably halfway down the street before my mom had even finished giving me permission. With the benefit of hindsight — and now being a parent myself — I now know what a huge leap of faith this must’ve been for her. We lived in the suburbs, and she was giving the green light to an (almost) 14 yr. old to ride the bus across the metro area to see a band she heard nonstop but didn’t know.

I suppose on some level you just know when to let your kids leap.

The band was on the road supporting their 5th studio album, Technique, and it came out when I was in junior high. The record was one of the bright spots in an otherwise blah era for me.

If Low Life is a show at an intimate venue, Technique is a sweaty rave filled with strobe lights and ecstasy. Indeed, the record was partly recorded in Ibiza with the band off their rockers. Technique is firmly rooted in the sounds surrounding them in their new environs. They choose the sunny locale at Hook’s insistence after a run of recordings made in “dark and horrible” London studios. The band decamped for Ibiza, hoping the change in scenery (and menu of drugs) would have the same positive effect that New York had had for them years earlier.

It worked…sort of…

After four months, the band only had ‘Fine Time’ and a couple of other tracks recorded to show for their time on the island. Declaring their holiday over, their label called them back to the UK, where they finished the record at Peter Gabriel’s Real World Studios.

We had expected to hear a lot of acid house music when we got to Ibiza because that had taken off in Manchester two to three months before we left, but we didn’t – we were hearing something called Balearic Beat,” Bernard said.We were actually disappointed at first because we were really into acid house, and what we heard, this Balearic Beat, was this crazy mash-up of styles and really commercial-sounding but there was also some really good stuff. By the end of our time there we were really influenced by it.

Their time in the sun may seem unproductive on the surface, but it had left an indelible mark on the group’s sound.

Fine Time is an acid-house Balearic Beat classic. Round and Round1 is pop perfection and saw decent airtime on MTV.

Run is credited to not only New Order, but also (*checks notes) John Denver?!

Yes, really. Denver sued the band, alleging that the guitar riffs were lifted from his Leaving On a Jet Plane.The case was settled out of court, with his name subsequently added to the credits.

A mediocre picture of the fantastic ‘Fine Time’ 12”. Photo by author.

We could do a track-by-track breakdown, but the short version is this: Technique feels like the band’s most honest record. Whether that’s down to the drugs or the Balearic sun, I don’t know. In the end, I suppose it doesn’t matter.

Perhaps more importantly, it is economical. Listening to it, every note has its place, and there is nothing extraneous. It’s both a dance record and a pop record—in other words, a New Order record—but listening to it, there is a discipline that sets it apart from the band’s previous work.

The songs themselves are compact; the sequencers nailed down— there is no 9-minute version of anything on this LP. By this point, the band had also mastered the art of shifting between pop and dance tracks.

On Brotherhood, a distinct boundary exists between the two (literally- the styles each have their own side on the album). There are no guardrails here; the band makes segueing between styles look easy.

All of that is well and good, but why is it my number 1?

Technique was really the first record by the band that I found on my own. Yes, I knew them. Yes, I’d heard almost everything they had recorded up to that point. But this was different; I’d learned of its release on my own and gone and bought it with my own money.

No hand-me-downs from friends’ older siblings or songs clipped from mix tapes. You always remember your first…

Good records always take you somewhere special. Thirty-five years later, Technique still does that for me.

Listen:

New Order | Technique, 1989

Click the record to listen on the platform of your choice.

What are your thoughts on this record? Do you have any favorite tracks or memories associated with it? At 35, does it still hold up? Share your thoughts in the comments!

As for Storm Front, aside from it never having a chance going up against New Order, it’s not good. I might be the only one that likes “We Didn’t Start the Fire,” but even that’s just one song on a totally dour record. “Go to Extremes” is a nice bit of pop, I guess. The rest just feels like Joel mailed it in. No thanks.

Check out the full bracket here.

Info on the tourney, voting, and more is here.

As always, thanks for being here.

KA—

The Best Record of 1989: Day 26

by KevinLeave a Comment on The Best Record of 1989: Day 26

60 Biz Markie, The Biz Never Sleeps vs. #69 Love and Rockets, Love and Rockets

Good morning!

Today we’re taking a look at records from The Biz and 3/4 of Bauhaus

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

I’ve started doing some quick hits of each matchup and posting them directly to the page. Some will be longer, some won’t, and some might just be a handful of sentences. There’ll probably definitely be some typos.

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

KA—

Pity Marcel Hall; he never quite gets the respect he deserves. Like a sort of Warren Zevon of Hip Hop, his biggest hit was a novelty (“Just a Friend”), featured a big ass beat and some seriously off key signing. The bars are relatable if not “fire,” and I’m willing to be that most people of a certain age can still recite them…or after a couple of drinks will willingly caterwaul the chorus at the local watering hole’s karaoke night.

Fun. But that doesn’t tell the rest of the story about the rest of Hall’s (aka Biz Markie), The Biz Never Sleeps. Once you get past that put-on silliness, the album is a goldmine of sampling, beats, and production. While Biz might not’ve had the best flow in ‘89, he was a dynamo behind the boards. And just in case that wasn’t enough, Marley Marl came through to mix it all.

Besides, “Just a Friend,” the other single off the record was “Spring Again,’ an all-timer, IMO. Biz is still trying to lay that weird singing across the chorus, but man! The rest of it with Roberta Flack and Donny Hathaway’s “Back Together Again?” That sure sounded good booming out of the trunks in my neighborhood.

In a post just after Flack’s passing, I noted:

At any rate, this record found me at just the right time. People contain multitudes, but in 1988-89, you only needed five letters to sum me up: s-u-r-l-y.

Bad acne, bad hair (never quite figured that one out), and a worse attitude. Everything was terrible all the time. Even playing soccer- a game woven into my DNA- became an exercise in misery. This team could be better… Our opponents suck….Why can’t first-year students letter?

Blah, blah, blah. I was insufferable.

But hearing the right track at the right time was always the exception. There’d be a respite, if only for 3-4 minutes. I wasn’t the biggest Biz Markie fan, but this track did it for me. The horns up against that beat? Incredible! His bars? Solid. All made for a nice 3-4 minute respite. I’m old enough to know this is no longer my time to refer to songs as “bangers” or that I was obsessed, but both are true. I’m also old enough to remember the time before the internet and sites like whosampled.com. I knew enough to know Biz was sampling other tracks but not enough to know where to look to find out.

So we’ve got two singles—one a huge hit and one that should’ve been. But what about the rest of the record?

There’s plenty more silliness- topics covered include such “hard-hitting” themes as bad breath and kindergarten girlfriends- but also plenty more samples. You want soul? Maybe some funk? He’s got you. Have fun trying to place ‘em all!

One sidenote that needs to be pointed out: it’s not all fun and games here. “A Thing Named Kim” is problematic at best. After a pretty dope build up, Biz fumbles by ending with a shitty verse of transphobia. Delete the punchline. It’s some standard issue braggadocio of the day, and put together nicely. Leave it in and it ages like milk left in the sun. Even looking at it through a 1989 lens, it’s still a letdown. Did it reflect the times? Yeah kinda, but that doesn’t mean we can’t call it out.

Luckily, our man gets back on track with “I Hear Music,” this writer’s second favorite track on the record after “Spring Again.” Why this has been relegated to deep cut status is beyond me. This has “summer playlist staple” written all over it.

Biz Markie’s legacy might be “Just a friend,” but this record is so much more than that; just like Excitable Boy is so much more than “Werewolves of London.”

At my school, having a Bauhaus (or synth-era Ministry) shirt was the ultimate badge of indie cool. This was before such things became common, and to have one was to tell people you had zero interest in whatever was on the radio. There’s probably a timeline out there where “Stigmata Martyr” was a huge hit, but we’re not living in it.

How strange, then, to have 3/4 of the band with an unlikely hit on their hands with “So Alive.” To be fair, it’s got all the ingredients of a hit song recipe: steady beat, beguiling backing vocals, and Daniel Ash half-whispering into your ear.

It’s also unlike just about everything else on the record.

There are harder-edged tracks that might remind one of the more jagged edges of Bauhaus. “Motorcycle” is loud and repetitive in all the best ways. Yeah, it’s about…motorcycles..but who cares? It sounds fantastic. For my (entirely subjective) money, it remains the band’s best.

“No Big Deal” feels like something stamped out at The Jesus and Mary Chain’s song factory (pre-Automatic). It’s good, but doesn’t lend itself to pretend listens.

The knock on this record is that it’s uneven. Like, really uneven. The highs (“Motorcycle”) are offset by things like “The Purest Blue,” a track that takes far too long to go absolutely nowhere. Seriously, was there a song quota they needed to meet?

At 6+ minutes, you could probably make the same argument for “Bound For Hell,” but at least it’s got a rocking groove, some harmonica, and you have a decent time getting there. Meanwhile, some of the slower tracks like “The Teardrop Collector” border on annoying. Not something you want to say about these guys!

Ultimately, this record’s songs sound better in isolation than they do as a collective. It’s a good enough record, but there’s a reason Love and Rockets shirts never really caught on.

Bottom Line: Despite its faults, The Biz Never Sleeps works really well as a whole album. Maybe it’s first-day jitters, but Love and Rockets’ debut is uneven, quite so when compared to today’s opponent. Winning this sets you up to face Pretty Hate Machine in the next round, so that victory might be short-lived. Nevertheless.

My vote: Biz Markie all 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!

Check out the full bracket here.

Info on the tourney, voting, and more is here.

As always, thanks for being here.

KA—

The Best Record of 1989: Day 25

by KevinLeave a Comment on The Best Record of 1989: Day 25

5 Nine Inch Nails, Pretty Hate Machine vs. #124 Dog Faced Hermans, Everyday Timebomb

Good morning!

Today we’re taking a look at records from Nine Inch Nails and Dog Faced Hermans.

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

I’ve started doing some quick hits of each matchup and posting them directly to the page. Some will be longer, some won’t, and some might just be a handful of sentences. There’ll probably definitely be some typos.

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

In case you missed this week’s earlier matches:

Day 21: #13 Janet Jackson, Rhythm Nation 1814 vs. #116 King’s X, Gretchen Goes to Nebraska

Day 22: #52 Laurie Anderson, Strange Angels vs. #77 Wire, It’s Beginning to and Back Again

Day 23: #20 Julee Cruise, Floating Into the Night vs. #109 Eleventh Dream Day, Beet

Day 24: #45 The Beautiful South, Welcome to the Beautiful South vs. #84 Keith Jarrett, Changeless

My junior high school was a hothouse. It had low ceilings and few windows (this was intentional- it was intended as a security measure). The few that did exist were of the reinforced variety.

It didn’t feel safe, it felt like we were in County. And it was overcrowded. So crowded in fact, that they had to add 2 extra minutes of passing time between periods because of the human gridlock.

My friends and I used that time in traffic to swap mixtapes, talk about bands, and whatever else 14-year-olds do.

And so it was in A-hall that I had a copy of this record pressed into my hands. I waited until the bus ride home to put it in my Walkman (related: I’m old).

It didn’t take long for Pretty Hate Machine to rearrange my mind.

“Sin” is far and away my favorite track on the record. The beat is relentless and never lets you catch your breath. It’s desperate and danceable all at once. “Head Like a Hole” has some of the most visceral lyrics on an album full of them. When Reznor screams, “I’d rather die than give you control,” you feel it. Slower tracks like “Something I Can Never Have” are solid, even if they sound like how driving on a surface street feels right after getting off the freeway.

Nine Inch Nails’ sound is dominated by clanging synths and sardonic, shrieking vocals. But Reznor stretches that industrial-strength noise over a pop framework, and his harrowing but catchy music has taken the college charts by storm.

In 1989, the music world was as crowded space as those halls. Even in the alternative and/or industrial genres, it was hard to stand out. But this record did and does. It took the college charts by storm, and my group of friends were along for the ride.

Note: Pretty Hate Machine made my list of Top 100 albums, coming in at #26. This first appeared as part of that project.

Years ago, I was reading a review in (I think) Flipside in which the reviewer mentioned being so annoyed by the record’s intentionally stupid title that they almost didn’t bother listening to it. If memory serves, it still got a pretty poor rating, but that always stuck with me.

Sometimes, you can judge a book by its cover.

Fast-forward to today, and I was 90% sure I was going to do the same with Dog-Faced Hermans. I mean, really? But I rationalized it by seeing that they’re from Amsterdam by way of Scotland and thought maybe, just maybe, it’s some slang term that presents much better overseas.

Yesterday, I cited a review using the term “ostinato feel” and shared that my new life goal was to shoehorn that term into as many reviews as possible. I was only half-joking, but it only took a day.

Everyday Timebomb is a blitzkrieg of jazz punk, angular guitars, noise, and repetition—so, so much repetition. There are some African elements here, and I’ll give them points both for their social stances and the use of oddball instruments, but man, does this get old fast. Save yourself some time and just skip to “frock.” It goes long on jazzy grooves and (relatively) short on squonks and dissonant noise.

There are seven tracks here, and once you’re about a minute into the first, you’re good. There is much ostinato. The novelty comes in hot but burns out quickly—another case of being able to judge a record by the cover. No thanks.

Bottom Line: Thank you Trent Reznor for putting out a record that rearranged my mind. Thank you Dog Faced Hermans for reminding me that I have a low tolerance for “Jazz punk.”

My vote: Pretty Hate Machine all 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!

Check out the full bracket here.

Info on the tourney, voting, and more is here.

As always, thanks for being here.

KA—

From the Archive: A Quick Revisiting of Wire’s ‘IBTABA’ Album

by KevinLeave a Comment on From the Archive: A Quick Revisiting of Wire’s ‘IBTABA’ Album

Today we’re revisiting Wire’s groundbreaking “It’s Beginning To And Back Again” album as it takes on Laurie Anderson’s Strange Angels in the battle for The Best Record of 1989.

When I was a soccer coach, Most players had one or two go-to moves, got pretty good at them, and then got complacent. It was fairly predictable. It’s also incredibly easy to coach against.

Much better—and much more interesting—were the players unafraid to do what I (very professionally) referred to as trying shit. These players might not have been blessed with speed or height, but their superpower was unpredictability.

These players always had a spot on my roster.

Similarly, Wire has never been afraid to experiment with new sounds, bend genres, and ignore convention.

In other words, they’ve never been afraid to try shit.

Of course, Wire is the band that gave us Pink Flag, Chairs Missing, and 154, arguably one of the best three record runs of our time. They followed that by splitting up for several years.

“There are those who say Wire was the best punk band ever because it broke all of the rules, didn’t stick with any of the blueprints and did actually what it wanted…I just wouldn’t call that punk, personally. Punk is just one of those words that’s so overused that you have no idea what it means anymore.”

~Wire frontman Colin Newman

In 1985, they reunited and again tried something new, this time swapping jagged guitars and minimalism for a more electronic sound. They had found synthesizers on their hiatus and embraced them. Signed to Mute, they delivered a 1-2 punch of 1987’s The Ideal Copy in 1987 and A Bell Is A Cup…Until It Is Struck the next year. The band’s live sound was always quite different from what listeners experienced on the records—mainly because the technology they used to create the music in those days wasn’t exactly easy to load in the van and take on the road.

Nevertheless, there was a growing demand from fans for a live record. That could’ve been easy. Record a show or two, clean the tapes up in post-production, and ship units. Simple enough. But Wire’s never been one to take the easy route. Instead, they decided to try something new.

Enter It’s Beginning To And Back Again (“IBTABA”)

The quick and dirty story of IBTABA is that the record is 11 alternate takes, half from The Ideal Copy and A Bell… and the rest previously unreleased. Describing it that way is also reductive. Wire didn’t just mix things up; they took the songs, dismantled them, and rebuilt them using overdubbed guitar, synth, and vocals—most of the drum parts stayed. The results are (almost) wholly new tracks.

An album of remixes also often represents a creative drought, a cash grab, or both. And those indictments would have been justified had these been straightforward reworkings. But they’re not; they’re complete revampings and remodeling of what previously existed. In many cases, the titles are the only recognizable things left standing.

Experiments sometimes represent breakthroughs; sometimes, they end up with shattered glass on the lab floor. One of the knocks against IBTABA is that it’s a mixed bag. Some of the songs are brilliant, and some are… not.

“Finest Drops” is heavier than the originals, and that extra bounce makes for a superior version. The grit and bleak imagery of “German Shepherds” benefit similarly from a revamping here (IBTABA’s title is derived from a line in this song). And most people agree that this version of “In Vivo” is much worse than the original mix. It’s also worth noting that it wasn’t included on the original vinyl release and was only added later when the label wanted another single. If A Bell Is A Cup…Until It Is Struck represents peak pop for the band; this record represents an intentional dive back toward the experimental.

The 12” version of “Eardrum Buzz” (the second single) is here and is as radio-friendly as the band gets. In the opinion of this writer, the 12” is light years better than the original, and the original isn’t bad.  It was also the on-ramp to the band for many, thanks to decent rotation on MTV. At the opposite end of the spectrum are tracks like “Over Theirs,” which was likely the off-ramp for those same fans, and why you saw so many copies of IBTABA in the cutout bin not too long after the record was released.

Distilled down, IBTABA represents some amazing results and some…not so amazing ones. It’s a signpost that marks the band’s second era and closes the book on the Pink Flag/Chairs Missing/154 triad for good. Call Wire what you will; at this point in their career, they might’ve still embraced the punk ethos writ large, but the days of playing punk music were done and dusted.

There is also a timing issue, of course. 1989 was a seminal year for albums; the calendar was packed with great releases—and IBTABA isn’t in line with any of them. If you wanted comfortable, indie, or “college rock,” this wasn’t the record for you. But if you like unpredictability and bands opposed to complacency, then IBTABA checks a lot of boxes.

(sigh)

Ok, look; I know I’m supposed to hold this album in some high(er) regard, but I just can’t. I know Anderson is a beloved figure who has long been on the cutting edge of avant-garde art and was Lou Reed’s partner, among other notable achievements.

None of that takes away from the fact that the entire time I listened to Strange Angels, I felt like I was watching a rehearsal for a play at the Learning Annex directed by someone who thinks they’re too good for the place. At its best, it felt like it was trying to punch above its weight (“Ramon”). At its worst, it was just annoying (“The Day the Devil”). I’m not trying to rain on anyone’s parade here- if you like this, more power to you! But man, life’s just too short…

Bottom Line: One of my Desert Island Discs is facing off against a record I could barely get through. Strange Angels was always going to have a steep climb, but the record’s pretentious nature didn’t help.

My vote: Bracket and vote are for IBTABA, without a second thought.

Any thoughts on either of these records? Agree/disagree with my takes? Which one of these would you vote for? Sound off in the comments!

Check out the full bracket here.

Info on the tourney, voting, and more is here.

As always, thanks for being here.

KA—

The Best Record of 1989: Day 21-Janet Jackson vs. King’s X

by KevinLeave a Comment on The Best Record of 1989: Day 21-Janet Jackson vs. King’s X

Miss Jackson takes on Gretchen

Good morning!

Today we’re taking a look at Janet Jackson’s Rhythm Nation 1814 and Gretchen Goes to Nebraska by King’s X

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

I’ve started doing some quick hits of each matchup and posting them directly to the page. Some will be longer, some won’t, and some might just be a handful of sentences. There’ll probably definitely be some typos.

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

KA—

If Jackson’s Control album was a declaration of independence, follow up, Rhythm Nation 1814 was her manifesto on how she thought the world should be.

So how do you follow up an artistic/commercial victory like that? Well, you start by going back to Minneapolis and again working with Jimmy Jam and Terry Lewis. There’s a familiarity there, but 1989 was a new day and that meant a new direction for this record. Jackson had some things to say, and the synth pop of the last record would give way to a (relatively) grittier sound. Less synths, more guitar. She was taking on some heavy topics and weighty topics require weighty foundations.

Those nasty grooves are all over this record, but so too is the New Jack Swing sound. There’s hard charging riffs, and even samples from the last album.

As many longtime readers know, i’m not exactly a fan of the interludes and skits that were in vogue back int he day. At best they disrupted a record’s flow. At worst they were just obnoxious. Rhythm Nation is an exception; here, they do well to tie everything together, helping Jackson make her case. The title track is a call to arms, with songs like “State of the World” and “Livin’ in a World (They Didn’t Make)” serving as supporting arguments.

But! This is also a Janet Jackson record, and she (and Jam and lewis) do well to know when to let off the gas and let us let our hair down. “Miss You Much” is straight up bit of pop ,ready made for a run up the charts. Ditto “Escapade” and it’s easy, breezy escapism. “Alright” might be the most underrated track on Jackson’s first 5-6 records. Play it and try not to feel better about the world, if only for a moment. And it wouldn’t be a Janet Jackson record without a torch song or two- “Come Back to Me” fits the bill nicely. “Someday Is Tonight” feels is the logical successor to Control’s “Let’s Wait a While.”

Rhythm Nation 1814 is a serious record made by an artist hellbent on having the wordl take her seriously. Mission Accomplished. It’s not lost on me that one of the early lines we hear on the title track is “It’s time to give a damn, let’s work together.” This is an album that will pull you to the dancefloor, but make you think while you’re doing it. All this from an artist then in her early 20’s.

As she sings on Escapade, “We’ll make the rules up as we go along/And break them all if we’re not havin’ fun”

Jackson’s stardom and lasting influence are hard to argue. Meanwhile, a case for King’s X is hard to make. If anything, they might dominate the “what might’ve been” leaderboards, but are otherwise a footnote in rock history. Maybe fodder for bar trivia or that pedantic “rock guy” we all know.

I can vaguely recall seeing one of their videos is fairly decent rotation on MTV, but I’ll be damned if I can remember which track it was. It’s not that this is objectively bad music— it’s not— it’s just not something that ever stuck with me. Part of that may have to do with their being saddled with a Christian Rock tag. While not overtly so in the same manner as ,say, Stryper, there was enough there to get them sorted into the bucket. The band had to spend a lot of time and energy stating that they were simply Christians that happened to play in a band together. Which, ok. Nothing wrong with that, but that’s a needle you aren’t gonna be able to thread in 1989.

Frontman Doug Pinnick was also gay, and that meant Christian stores wouldn’t carry the record. Meanwhile Prog fans had what they needed in bands like Rush. They couldn’t win.

In another timeline, things like discrimination wouldn’t exist, the band’s timing would’ve been better, and King’s X would’ve been huge. If nothing else, Pinnick’s vocals would get the credit they deserve— he can sing and do metal yells with the best of ‘em.

As it stands, it’s a good record heard by far too few people to have made a dent.

Bottom Line: Rhythm Nation 1814 was a huge commercial success, but also got a lot of people to think about things they otherwise might not’ve. King’s X is prima facie evidence that not every good record rises to the top.

My vote: My bracket pick and vote will be going to Rhythm Nation 1814.

Any thoughts on either of these records? Agree/disagree with my takes? Which one of these would you vote for? Sound off in the comments!

Check out the full bracket here.

Info on the tourney, voting, and more is here.

As always, thanks for being here.

KA—

The Best Record of 1989: Day 18

by KevinLeave a Comment on The Best Record of 1989: Day 18

61 The Blue Nile, Hats vs. #68 Soul II Soul, Club Classics Vol. 1

Good morning!

Today we’re taking a look at records from The Blue Nile and Soul II Soul

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

I’ve started doing some quick hits of each matchup and posting them directly to the page. Some will be longer, some won’t, and some might just be a handful of sentences. There’ll probably definitely be some typos.

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

KA—

In music, there’s a fine line between genuine and schmaltzy. A lot of bands try to stay on the right side of the line, only to get tripped up.

With 1989’s Hats1, Scottish band The Blue Nile does well to navigate that minefield and make it through to the other side. This record plays like an (almost) 40-minute love letter. But what kind, and to whom?

  • To a long-term love?
  • An unrequited one?
  • A love lost?

I never really did figure it out, and to be honest, I’m not sure it matters. However you interpret it, the songs are genuine and evocative. The lyrics are plaintive but don’t make you cringe.

This isn’t music for the party; it’s for the after-after party. For when the crowd’s gone home, and you’re dancing slowly with your tie undone and city lights in the background.

If anything, this album’s strength is delivering you to a very specific idea of a place. In his review of the record, Pitchfork’s Sam Sodomsky wrote:

Their music is patient and understated. Their songs mostly explore the trajectory of relationships, from their glittery beginnings to their plateaus of contentment and their exhausted, haunted finales. Their stories are set in the smoky locales of noir: in ragtown, shantytown, tinseltown. It’s usually raining. To listen passively to the Blue Nile is to ride in a taxi through the city at night as familiar scenes blur outside your window.

Verdict:

Like the fleeting scenes in the songs, the record isn’t too long. Forty minutes is about right, I think. Any more and it would’ve run the risk of becoming too much. Torch songs are a medicine best taken in moderation.

This is a great record for very specific times/places. Giving it a first listen midday in a very busy Ready Room at work was probably not the best decision, but that it was able to take me away to different universe speaks to its strengths.

Junior high dances are an interesting exercise. A fun night out if you’re in the right crowd. A preview of hell if you’re not. The only thing worse than enduring an hour or two of holding up one of the side walls is not going. And so, I found myself walking to one my freshman year (note: our schools were so overcrowded at the time that you did your freshman year at “intermediate school, which is a lovely euphemism for “the bonus year of junior high:). It’s a long walk from where I lived to the school- living on the far edge of the district was another strike against me, but I didn’t want to ride my biker- god forbid I’d roll into the place sweaty or with messed up hair (I never really did figure out how to comb out anyway)

So yeah, basically another day in early teenager hell. Until I saw a $20 on the ground. I don’t have to tell you that this might as well have been $2000. and then I saw another. And another.

Before you knew it, I was running Frogger-style in and out of traffic on Farmington Road, picking up a handful more. Manna from heaven or a windfall from someone else’s carelessness? Who cared? I was rich! I went to the dance, still resigned, but at least stoked to have some cash.

Why am I telling you this? For two reasons. First, “Keep On Moving” was big at the time and I can almost guarantee you it was played as a fast dance song. Had I even a sliver of courage back then, I would’ve been anywhere else besides the sidelines. Maybe in my next lifetime.

Second, I used that money to buy some CDs, one of which was this album.

It’s been a long time since I was in HS and probably almost as long since I played this record. It’s good, and it managed to hold its own against a rising tide of indie and hardcore records that started flooding in quickly as the year went on. As I’m playing it today for this challenge, I’m struck by how sharp it sounds and how gorgeous Caron Wheeler’s voice is. It’s the voice of an angel. That’s a sentence I’d have never written back then, either. God forbid you say anything nice. Had I been asked, I probably would’ve said something like, “She’s cool, I guess.”

I could say the same today about Jazzie B. His style is fine, but this record shines when the spotlight is on Wheeler or the beats. That’s truly where this record excels. The music itself pulls the best elements of dance, R&B, and African rhythms together, aggregating it all and producing something wholly new. It’s a clean sound with fat beats and a lovely sheen over the top. Even at age 36, I could see this playing in an upscale shop or coffeehouse. There’s some filler here, but even that feels like it would be fine in the right element. A clean, well-lit place. With lovely tile floors and some ferns. Probably.

I didn’t know it then, but one of the best things about that school was how it similarly fused all kinds of different elements into one: rich kids, poor kids, every race and demographic you could think of. All brought together because their families had decided to live in proximity to one another. Almost as random as finding a bunch of money on the way to a dance.

Bottom Line: Both of today’s records are fantastic for very specific times/places. Hats would be an absolute bummer to hear midday, and Keep On Movin’ has no place at the after-after party on a dreary fall evening.

My vote: My bracket says “Hats,” but my heart—and vote— say “Soul II Soul.”

Any thoughts on either of these records? Agree/disagree with my takes? Which one of these would you vote for? Sound off in the comments!

Check out the full bracket here.

Info on the tourney, voting, and more is here.

As always, thanks for being here.

KA—

The Best Record of 1989: Day 17

by KevinLeave a Comment on The Best Record of 1989: Day 17

4 The Cure, Disintegration vs. #125 Cher’s Heart of Stone

Good morning!

Today we’re taking a look at records from The Cure and Cher.

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

I’ve started doing some quick hits of each matchup and posting them directly to the page. Some will be longer, some won’t, and some might just be a handful of sentences. There’ll probably definitely be some typos.

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

KA—

I’ll save everyone some time: Disintegration is one of my Desert Island Discs. Some Cure fans will swear by a record like 17 Seconds. For others The Head on the Door is a hill they’re willing to die on. A chaos agent or two might even throw a vote in for Wild Mood Swings.

Me? It’s this record, and it’s not even close.

Last fall, as

Sam Colt and I wrapped up or top 100 records of all time, I slotted Disintegration in at #4. Nothing has changed in the ensuing months.I’m resharing that blurb in full below:

Do kids these days still go through their “Cure phase?” Growing up, it just seemed like something you were supposed to do, even if you weren’t feeling particularly miserable. There was always a bit of irony there.

Robert Smith was feeling down when recording this began. He felt pressure to follow up on the success Kiss Me Kiss Me Kiss Me had brought, and he was disillusioned with the band’s newfound popularity. He escaped those closing walls by taking a lot of LSD. Disintegration was every bit a group effort, but the result feels like we’re on one of Smith’s trips.

This was Sam’s #38 pick, and he wrote that he “…threw on some headphones and was blown away by how big everything sounded…” I’m not sure when Sam first put this record on, but I can tell you my first impression was almost the same. Even when they wandered a bit, the band’s previous records felt (relatively) compact. This was much more sprawling. Languid in parts, haunting in others. It was—and is—a sonic kaleidoscope, “Plainsong” especially. “Fascination Street” feels like the most on-brand track on the album, and even that sounds like new ground. The title track’s riff is as good as any the band ever recorded. The shattering of a mind never sounded so catchy.

For my part, I described the record as “A masterpiece. Gorgeous, lush music from the elder statesmen of the alternative/goth/whatever world. Reach into the bag and pick whatever superlative you want; they all fit. It was a record so good that one of their best tracks from that era (“2 Late”) was relegated to being a B-side. Kiss Me Kiss Me Kiss Me was one of the first CDs I ever bought. Growing up, I had a poster of Head on the Door in my bedroom. But if the house is on fire, this is the record I’m grabbing.”

In that same issue, I named Marvin Gaye’s What’s Going On my #36 pick, which, according to Sam, was an act of war. It became the yardstick against which every one of my future picks would be compared. I feel the same way with Sam “only” rating this #38. Gaye was looking to heal a splintered world. Smith was looking to heal his splintered mind. Both wound up delivering the best work of their careers.

At any rate, I think it’s pretty clear that we both hold this record in high regard—and rightly so. It remains the band’s magnum opus. Start here if you’re looking for a definitive record by The Cure.

Smith was uncomfortable with the band’s newfound popularity and wound up making one of their most significant records. Disintegration also had a love letter to Smith’s wife (“Lovesong”) that became one of their biggest hits, peaking at #2 on the Billboard Hot 100. That’s some next-level irony.

As for me? I’m pushing 50 and am still in my “Cure phase.”

Do I really l need to talk about Cher? For real? Um, okay…well, let’s see…

“If I Could Turn back Time” is pretty representative of the “big” pop from that era. It was this sort of bombastic, polished sound that launched 1000 grunge bands. Not a bad song per se, but the world was ready for something else, and this was the sort of thing that proved to be an accelerant.

There are 11 other songs on the record. They have things like chords, verses, bridges, and choruses. There’s a lovely duet with Chicago’s Peter Cetera that got a lot of airplay in my mom’s car. K103 probably just set it to autoplay. No one would’ve minded. It’s nice.

Bottom Line: Disintegration is a masterpiece. Heart of Stone is a record that happened to come out the same year.

My vote: In case it wasn’t obvious, my bracket and my vote will both be going to Robert Smith & co.

Any thoughts on either of these records? Agree/disagree with my takes? Which one of these would you vote for? Sound off in the comments!

Check out the full bracket here.

Info on the tourney, voting, and more is here.

As always, thanks for being here.

KA—

The Best Record of 1989: Day 16

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

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


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

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

I’ve started doing some quick hits of each matchup and posting them directly to the page. Some will be longer, some won’t, and some might just be a handful of sentences. There’ll probably definitely be some typos.

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

KA—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Any thoughts on either of these records? Agree/disagree with my takes? Which one of these would you vote for? Sound off in the comments!

Check out the full bracket here.

Info on the tourney, voting, and more is here.

As always, thanks for being here.

KA—

The Best Record of 1989: Day 15

by KevinLeave a Comment on The Best Record of 1989: Day 15

#24 The Replacements’ Don’t Tell a Soul vs. #105 Tin Machine’s Tin Machine

Good morning!

Today we’re taking a look at records from The Replacements and David Bowie’s Tin Machine

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

I’ve started doing some quick hits of each matchup and posting them directly to the page. Some will be longer, some won’t, and some might just be a handful of sentences. There’ll probably definitely be some typos.

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

In case you missed this week’s earlier matches, check out:

Day 11- #25 Prince, Batman vs. #104 The Durutti Column, Vini Reilly

Day 12- #40 Chris Isaak, Heart Shaped World vs. #89 Technotronic’s Pump Up the Jam

Day 13-#9 Tom Petty, Full Moon Fever vs. #120 Negativland, Helter Stupid

Day14- #56 The Vaselines, Dum-Dum vs. #73 Peter Gabriel, Passion of the Christ soundtrack

KA—

There used to be a wall in downtown Portland, Oregon, where someone had painted “Paul Westerberg is God.” Anytime my friends and I were down there, we’d see it, laugh, and make the sort of inside jokes funny only to us. (notably, it stayed up for a really long time).

I’m not sure I’d go that far, but when it comes to taking sincerity and cynicism and making it sound fantastic, Westerberg is definitely in rarefied air.

Westerberg, of course, was in The Replacements, a band I’ve yet to find anyone say anything bad about. Don’t Tell a Soul is a record that evokes plenty of strong thoughts.

Part of that rationale comes from the fact that DTaS is a departure from their earlier records. Gone are some of the rowdier, adolescent elements that made records like “Sorry, Ma’ and “Hootenanny” such a wild ride. This is a more polished, straightforward-sounding record. There’s no “Gary’s Got a Boner” on this one. For all the self-sabotage and self-inflicted wounds over the years, DTaS at least feels like a record from a band that wants it to become popular.

The album kicks off with “Talent Show,” one of my all-time favorites by the band. We can talk about playing style and instrumentation all day, but none of it would matter without first mentioning Westerberg’s talent as a songwriter. Few people can tell a full story in so few words the way he can. He says in a few verses what it would take us mere mortals a book to describe.

You could make the argument that this was a preview of Westerberg’s solo career, and it would have some merit. That would come in time. But for now, this is still a four-piece, and the music holds up as well as anything that came from Westerberg’s pen. “Talent Show” is an all-timer, but “We’ll Inherit the Earth” is right up there as well. “Achin’ to Be” feels purpose-built to rocket up the Modern Rock charts, and does “I’ll Be You.” And no Reps record would be complete without a few acoustic-ish tracks. Here, “They’re Blind” and “Rock n Roll Ghost” fill the bill.

If forced to pick a clunker, I’d go with “I Won’t,” but I wouldn’t like it,

there is a line of thinking that “Darlin’ One” is one of the weaker closers in the band’s discography. When posted up against its predecessors (“Here Comes a Regular,” “Can Hardly Wait,” Answering Machine,” etc.), it’s an easy statement to make. But we’re not comparing DTaS to those earlier records, and taken as part of this album, it holds its own just fine.

People like what they like, and they generally like whatever record they first hear of any given band. It’s easy to see why the adoration for Tim, Pleased to Meet Me, etc., is still there decades later. In my case, DTaS was the first record by the band that I owned. And you never forget your first, right? I don’t know if this would be one of my desert island discs, but it’d definitely be one of the ones spread out on my bed while I was scrambling to figure out what to pack.

If there’s a lament here, it’s that this should’ve been the record the band used to call time. It’s the perfect endcap to a brilliant discography, and they would have gone out on top, IMO.

Instead, they hung out for one more record (All Shook Down), and it was a case of one record too long. In an alternate universe, that would’ve been the first solo Westerberg record rather than masquerading as the final Replacements one.

Comment from YouTube

Somewhere, there is also a universe where Westerberg does things like run errands. He goes to the same appointments the rest of us endure. He does laundry. That’s not a universe I want to acknowledge or even know about. He might not be God, but he’s certainly a legend, and that’s enough for me.

In 1995, I saw David Bowie play. Setlist.FM will tell you it was a decent—if not great— setlist. A few hits, some deeper tracks as red meat for the true fans, and a couple of covers. Serviceable, if nothing else.

Nine Inch Nails was co-headlining, and they came out to play a couple together as well. All well and good.

What that webpage won’t tell you is that I spent most of his set feeling underwhelmed. None of it made sense. This was Bowie! What the fuck? Maybe it was that the lights were never quite turned down. Maybe he didn’t play a couple of tracks I’d been hoping for. Maybe I just wanted to see NIN more. The reasons don’t matter, only the result.

This also happens to be how I feel listening to Tin Machine. I know it’s a side project, but still! It’s David Bowie’s Tin Machine.

And herein lies the rub. This wasn’t just another reinvention; this was an intellectual break with what he’d been doing. This was a quartet all on (supposed) equal footing, as opposed to hired guns performing Bowie’s work.

The recording of the album was also a departure, with live takes making the final cut, etc.

It’s a bluesy, gritty record- especially compared to the poppier veins he’d been tapping in the years leading up to this. There would still be a bit of time before Grunge really caught fire, and this feels like a Grunge record made before anyone knew what that was.

Being ahead of one’s time was nothing new to Bowie– he’d spent a whole career doing just that, but it’s one thing to do it when you’re a neophyte. It’s wholly another to do it as an established m, member of the rock god Pantheon. We like what we like, and we (collectively) had no taste for whatever this was.

There are a couple of bright spots here and there (“Pretty Thing” in particular), but you have to squint to hear ’em. Relistening to the record, I couldn’t help but be transported back to that show.

Sitting in that seat, I kept thinking I should be digging this more than I was. Listening to this ahead of the bracket challenge, those same feelings came flooding back.

Bottom Line: Both of these records represent a departure in form for the respective artists. It might be a hot take amongst Reps fans, but I think the band nailed it with DTaS. On the other hand, Tin Machine proves that abrupt departures aren’t without their risks. Specific to this matchup, one of my favorite records of all time is up against one of the more underwhelming releases from an artist I like.

My vote: My bracket and vote will go to DTaS, and I won’t even blink while throwing the lever.

Any thoughts on either of these records? Agree/disagree with my takes? Which one of these would you vote for? Sound off in the comments!

Check out the full bracket here.

Info on the tourney, voting, and more is here.

As always, thanks for being here.

KA—

The Best Record of 1989: Day 14

by KevinLeave a Comment on The Best Record of 1989: Day 14

56 The Vaselines, Dum-Dum vs. #73 Peter Gabriel, Passion of the Christ soundtrack

Good morning!

Today we’re taking a look at records from The Vaselines and Peter Gabriel.

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

I’ve started doing some quick hits of each matchup and posting them directly to the page. Some will be longer, some won’t, and some might just be a handful of sentences. There’ll probably definitely be some typos.

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

KA—

Coming off the massive success of So, it would have been easy for Gabriel to go back into the studio and put out another pop record. I think it’s safe to say that the public would’ve eaten it up, and there would’ve been a couple of chart-toppers (at least). The money would’ve flowed in. Maybe there would’ve been a tour. No one would’ve blamed him.

And the people banking on that happening–or hoping it would–would’ve had to ignore Ganriel’s recording past. That’s simply not how he works.

Instead, he bet the other way and went to work on a film. More specifically, the soundtrack to Martin Scorcese’s The Passion of the Christ.

I want to reiterate one point early and make a second one for context. First, I’m not a fan of soundtracks. We covered this earlier in the week with Batman, but it bears repeating. If this had been my contest, there would’ve been a “no soundtracks, no live records, and no greatest hits” rule on the chalkboard, but it isn’t, and so we get what we get.

The second is that I’ve never seen the movie. I only recall the outrage associated with its release. Scorcese rebounded, but did Jim Jim Caviezel? I should probably look that up, but it’s not relevant here. My point is that I’m listening to his record in isolation, not considering how it may or may not work within the context of the film.

So! With that out of the way, I can say the record flows well. That’s sometimes cheap filler for a review, but it’s genuinely worth noting here. Any story involving religion should by default be large in scale. The music here fits the bill. It’s majestic. It’s magisterial.

This was also the era when Gabriel was big into world music. For many of us, the introduction to world music and artists like Youssou N’Dour was via their appearances on Gabriel’s records. He always did well to blend these artists’ styles with his own, but he takes it to the next level here. Perhaps that thought is colored by the idea that the story of the Gospel is a Middle Eastern or Arabian one, but it just fits.

The story (and, I assume, the film) is a ride through a lot of emotion. The soundtrack pairs well with each. Mostly, though, it’s relaxing. It’s evocative. Listening to it feels nice; enough so that a couple of times I wondered if I was enjoying something that marks a “bad” part of the movie. I’ll have to watch it to find out.

The story of the Gospel is one known worldwide. There was no way this soundtrack could be authentic and NOT represent a plurality of nations. The only knock here (besides being a soundtrack!) is that there are not enough of Gabriel’s vocals here. But that might just be me expecting a “regular” album (read: pop) and ignoring his track record as an artist.

If Passion is an exercise in lush soundscapes and languid sound, Dum-Dum is one whose sugary sweet hooks and quick pace get you moving. Gabriel might have been the on-ramp for world singers, but he was a Washingtonian who introduced a lot of success to the Scottish indie rock band Kurt Cobain. For younger readers, you have to understand that this was an era when people hung on every word he said. When he described the band as one of his favorites ever (paraphrasing), people took it to heart.

When Nirvana covered a couple of their songs, that sealed the deal; we were all Vaseline fans now.

Okay, that’s a bit of hyperbole, but it’s also kinda true. That’s just how it worked back then. They had his stamp of approval, so it was cool to like them. And had Dum-Dum sucked, that would’ve been an awkward spot for everyone. Thankfully, it doesn’t. The record burns bright but burns fast, coming in at just under 30 minutes. But within that half hour is some deliciously hooky pop. If nothing else, The Vaselines were very good at making even the quickest blitzes of pop feel deep. “Sex Sux” is a bright bit of pop (title notwithstanding). The guitars are front and center on “Teenage Superstars.” If this reminds you of a few of your favorite bands, trust your gut. A lot of people heard this, picked up their guitar, and got to work.

In the late 1980s and early 1990s, a weird orthodoxy emerged surrounding fame. “Sellout” was a four-letter word, and accessibility was equated with acquiescence. I’m not sure how easy it was to find this record back in the day, but in 2025, it takes some work. I couldn’t find it streaming anywhere. I had to re-listen to it on YouTube.

In an era where you can have everything all at once, this felt almost refreshing. The best things take a little work.

Bottom Line: Passion was a revelation (no pun intended), and Dum-Dum was a visit back to a formative era in my life. I won’t claim to have any idea of the voting demographic in this challenge, but I have to think a lot of people bet the same way I did, and went with Gabriel on name recognition alone. Dum-Dum is more my style, but so is having a fighting chance in any game I play. For that reason, my bracket pick is Passion of The Christ.

My vote: The Vaselines check a lot of boxes for me, and I’m a fan of the sort of sound they made. The vestigial influence of Cobain is also still there all these years later. My vote will be for Dum-Dum. Apparently I’m a fan of dissonance as well.

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—