Mudhoney’s self-titled record takes on Robyn Hitchcock & The Egyptians’ Queen Elvis
Good morning!
Today we’re taking a look at Mudhoney’s self-titled release (#57) as it squares off again Queen Elvis by Robyn Hitchcock and The Egyptians (#72)
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—
On day 4, we covered Screaming Trees, and here we are less than a week later in the Emerald City. As a PDX native, this is not my favorite place. As a music fan, I’m willing to overlook some things.
The reality is that Mudhoney—or rather, Mark Arm — had a hand in a lot of the bands we all know and love. In the 80s and 90s, the overlap in personnel was common. Many people were in the same bands. You sometimes needed a scorecard to keep track at home. Arm was in more than a couple, including Green River, which gave way to Mudhoney, but also Mother Love Bone, Temple of the Dog, and more. Jeff Ament and Stone Gossard were there. I wonder what ever happened to them? I hope they’re still playing somewhere.
They went one way, and Arm went another. There was Mudhoney, and there was this record —a bar-burner of white-hot rock ‘n’ roll. There’s some psych here. Some punk. Some metal. It sounds like every opening band that ever played a sweaty club with low ceilings and a sound tech learning the ropes— and I 100% mean that in the best way possible,
“Flat Out F*cked” drops the hammer and never lets up. It’s an insistent piledriver that dares you not to sing along. “Get Into Yours” sounds like every song we’d hear from out on the street if we were late getting to a show. This is an admittedly clunky description, but one I hope both makes sense and is relatable. It’s also high praise. “Here Comes Sickness” has an infectious, scuzzy groove.
With maybe the exception of “Come To Mind,” the whole record goes on like this. It’s a one-note recording, but it never gets old.
The guitars and Arm’s vocals are out front here, but to discount the rhythm section of Matt Lukin (yes, the same Lukin PJ named a song after) and Dan Peters would be a disservice. Someone had to keep things tethered to the Earth.
Some groups aspire to a higher calling. They write records they hope will change the world. This record isn’t trying to do anything of the sort.; it’s just trying to have a good time.
It’s trying to rock — and that’s exactly what it does.
Remember when you were a kid, and your parents would try to get you to taste new food? It’s got everything you like in it! they’d plead, while you sat there with your arms crossed. Just take a bite! You’ll see.
And it’s true that you likely would’ve liked whatever it was on the plate in front of you. But for whatever reason, that wasn’t the day. Maybe you’d eventually come around. Perhaps you never would.
A few years would go by, and instead of food and your parents, it would be your friends and an artist.
And yet
This record is great! They’d say. It’s got intelligent lyrics and wry humor! They’re on top of some of the sunniest, jangly music going! There’s a video on 120 Minutes! It’s got everything you like! The record would be Robyn Hitchcock & The Egyptians’ Queen Elvis….and I still wasn’t biting (heh).
Look, there is nothing wrong with this record. It’s objectively good! It’s generally regarded as one of the best in his extensive discography. It’s extremely British. It was quirky before that became a thing.
Lyrics like this from Devil’s Coachman are the sort of thing I would’ve pored over:
I remember everything as if it happened years ago Probably it did, so I remember it You are just your feelings. It might give you vertigo Falling off a high place and into it And I was into you
And yet.
“Madonna of the Wasps “is an excellent peek at the sort of thing 120 Minutes might expose you to. For many people, I suspect this was their on-ramp to Hitchcock, doubly so if you lived somewhere with cable but without a decent college radio station. Listening to the record ahead of this, I wondered if that’s how whoever nominated this first found him.
“Freeze” is a track I genuinely dig. It’s about as hard as things get on the album. There are bits of horns, too, which I always dig. No less than REM’s Peter Buck makes a balance here. Another thing I like.
And yet.
Bottom Line: Rooting for my Pacific Northwest homeland can make for strange bedfellows. Sometimes it even means rooting for a band from Seattle. Mudhoney it is.
Any thoughts on either of these records? Agree/disagree with my takes? Which one of these would you vote for? Sound off in the comments!
We’ve got a great host and a killer record, all set to go. All we need now is you! Here’s how to join the fun.
Album art courtesy of Dangerbird records
Good Morning!
Today we’re talking about Holly Miranda’s self-titled sophomore album, and well, how you can talk about the band with other like minded people.
Note: As some of you know, I’m one of the editors for an online music publication called The Riff. Each month, we host an album discussion (via Zoom), and this month’s is coming up on Sunday.
To be clear, all credit goes toTerry Barr and Scott Fountain who facilitate the meetings, as well as Jeremy Shatan this month’s host. These guys are doing the heavy lifting.
As you’ll see below, these are low-key affairs; all are welcome! If you want to share some thoughts, that’s awesome. Wanna just sit back & listen? That’s cool, too.
Either way, it’d be better with you there.
KA—
It’s that time again; it’s time for our monthly album discussion!
One of The Riff’s core tenets is sharing music. That obviously involves writing about it, but also talking about it together. We do that monthly here.
This Sunday, June 8th, is that day.
Below is my boilerplate explanation of these discussions and the value you’ll get from joining us. Under that are both the record being discussed and the meeting login details.
Don’t know the record? Doesn’t matter.
Not comfortable speaking in public? Me either. And you don’t have to if you don’t want to. Heck, you don’t even have to turn your camera on. It’s a safe space, but you control what you share.
Ultimately, you’re part of the community; we want you to be a part of this, too.
So check out the “rules” below, and then plan to dial in.
What is this?
For new readers (hi everyone!), The Riff hosts an online discussion every month.
Here’s how it works:
A writer (more on that in a second) picks a record to discuss and writes a brief piece about their choice and the meeting details.
At the meeting, they discuss why they picked it, offer a bit of a backstory/context, and whatever else they’d like to share.
Everyone else on the call can share their own “hot take,” related story, or anything else you think is relevant.
At the end of the meeting, the next month’s writer volunteers (or is chosen), and the process repeats itself.
NOTE FOR INTROVERTS: If you’d prefer to sit in and listen, that is 110% okay. Keep your video off…stay muted…it’s up to you. It’s a safe place; you can participate as much/as little as you’d like.
That same year, she released Everlasting and Desert Call, two of her best songs yet, featuring the kind of singing and emotion that just stops you in your tracks. That made 2014 the hardest year of waiting, because I knew she had finally figured out how to reveal her full talent in the studio. While she did let us pledgers know about some of the mitigating circumstances behind the delay, I did start to worry that she was stalling out somehow, getting lost in side projects and backing other musicians.
Then, [in 2015], the dam finally broke. Some songs appeared on Spotify, and pledgers were notified that the album was coming in May. I tried not to get too hung up on dates, to just let it happen, but it all happened on schedule: Holly Miranda was released on May 18th, and it is brilliant.
Musical adventure, exploring new sounds, and sharing great music with great people make these discussions a joy.
Join us and see for yourself.
Listen:
Holly Miranda | Self-titled (2015)
(Click the record to listen on your platform of choice)
Faith No More’s The Real Thing vs. Voivod’s Nothingface
Good morning!
Today we’re taking a look at Voivod’s Nothingface (#112) and Faith No More’s The Real Thing (#17)
Note: As many of you saw, 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 match up 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 be a few typos.
Check ’em out and let me know your thoughts! Chin wags & hot takes welcome! Sharing and restacks always appreciated.
KA—
One of the things that can make a record above its weight are the memories one might associate with it. Experiences are enhanced with a soundtrack. For those of us who are analog natives, there is also the bonus of having (likely) discovered a band via a friend or listening to them together.
In my case, Faith No More checks both boxes. I first found this band when a friend pressed the tape into my hand during passing time at school. Listening on the bus on the way home, it was hard to stay still in my seat. It grabbed a hold of me from the start. There are a lot of opening tracks in this challenge. Few go from 0-100 as fast as “From Out of Nowhere” does.
It’s 6:17 in the morning as I write this, and just playing on these janky-ass work speakers is getting my feet moving. People pay good money to feel that sort of high.
This is their 3rd record, but it might as well be their debut. Apologies to fans of We Care A Lot and Introduce Yourself (and Chuck Mosley, for that matter), but for all intents and purposes, this is ground zero for the band. Alternately threatening and cloying, Mike Patton was completely unhinged, a whirling dervish with a several-octave vocal range.
‘Epic’ was a smash hit and the track most people think of when asked about the band. A lot of bands would kill to have something like that on their resume. Here’s the thing, though: for as good as it is, Epic isn’t the best song on the record. It’s not even the 2nd best; I might be 3rd after ‘From Out of Nowhere’ and ‘Falling to Pieces’. ‘Underwater Love’ might give it a run for its money as well.
Epic also became a weight around the band’s neck, sentencing them to one hot wonder purgatory and pigeonholing the band. A lot of people stopped at ‘Epic’ and missed out on a whole lot of great stuff that came afterward.
For its part, ‘Falling to Pieces’ is a little something for pop fans. It’s catchy. It’s bouncy. It gets in your head and makes itself comfy. ‘Underwater Love’ is a bit more funky, but no slower.
There’s even a cover of Black Sabbath’s ‘War Pigs’ here, which, while admittedly a pretty faithful rendition, is, for me, the one song that I could do without. But it’s one mistake in an otherwise solid record.
That’s down more to my tastes than anything else, but why include a cover in the middle of something so original?
If FNM pivoted with The Real Thing, Voivod did almost a 180 with Nothingface. Their previous records were much faster and more reckless. Not quite thrash metal, but close. This is…prog? It’s got all the usual hallmarks: multiple time signatures squished into a song, discordant riffs, etc. There’s even a song about planets here (“Astronomy Domine”), which also happens to be a Pink Floyd cover.
(sigh) okay, I guess.
Look, I try and listen with an objective ear, but this record was a test. If I’m honest, it became unlistenable at about the halfway point. The record doesn’t get worse; I was just at capacity.
Nothingface feels like the band had a brainstorming session, and “Rush, but make it more metal” won out. The end result is a (relatively) slower, much more complex record than earlier ones, but I’m not sure it’s an improvement. Growing up, we often ended nights at a local 24-hour restaurant. There was a regular who would sit in a booth and spend the small hours making his own chain mail. I can’t help but think this record was tailor-made for him.
I know this record is regarded as a significant influence in a small corner of the music world, but man, I’m just not seein’ it. I want to, I really do.
Bottom Line: The streak of voting against my own bracket is over (for now). Sorry Quebecois; my vote is going for the boys from The bay, and it’s not even close.
Vote & bracket pick: The Real Thing
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
808 State, 90 takes on LL Cool J’s Walking With a Panther
Good morning!
Today we’re taking a look at #49 808 State, 90 vs. #80 LL Cool J, Walking With a Panther
A bazillion years ago, I was watching an interview (probably on Yo!~ MTYV Raps) with LL Cool J, where he made an off-hand comment about driving a Honda Civic. Yes, really. The gist was that sucka MCs were wasting money on things like gold chains while he was playing the long game. It was a weirdly sensible flex—especially for a guy that had been dropping rhymes like “I’m so bad, I can suck my own d*ck.”
For someone so pragmatic on the street, he was prodigious in the studio; one of the knocks against the record is that it’s long, at 18 tracks and with a run time of 76 minutes, there’s a lot of space to fill. Luckily, our man has some big rhymes and big beats to fill in the blanks.
But it wasn’t just the usual fare. There was plenty of stuff like the aforementioned “Clap Your Hands,” but also what at the time was a clean break from the norm. As Exhibit A for the people, I’d present the Rick Rubin-produced “Going Back to Cali.” LL’s flow is smooth, almost conversational- instead of announcing to us all how bad he is, he’s telling a story on top of a jazz beat. As if that wasn’t wild enough, the whole thing ends with a sax solo. We’re beyond the looking glass here, people.
“I’m That Type of Guy” also has an unorthodox flow and, of course, talks about stealing girls like it’s an Olympic sport. It’s an interesting side trip and a solid track overall. Still, the best part is the outro, which, as I type this, sounds like more of an indictment than it really is.
“Jingling Baby” is another favorite, and is ostensibly about…earrings. Sure. At any rate, it’s a banger. And I was a little surprised that I still knew a good chunk of the lyrics. Funny how those are in my mind’s Keep pile, and not things like where I left my glasses.
(sigh)
A year later, LL would kick the door back down and dare us to call it a comeback. After all, he’d been here for years. And just a year earlier, he’d dropped Walking With a Panther, still one of his best, and one that sounds great, even in a Honda Civic.
One of the paradoxes of electronic music is that you sometimes remember the nights you heard it more than the tracks themselves. And I suppose that’s partly the point- EDM (or house, or techno, or…) has always been more about immersion than anything else. How do you know a song is good? When you can still feel the beat three days later at work. In the pre-Shazam era, many of these tracks were lost to time and a fuzzy memory. Sure, sometimes you could ask the DJ, but not always, and if you didn’t want to stop dancing? Well, that was the price you paid.
But sometimes-sometimes- something was so good you had to get off the ride and find out what was playing. That’s how I found 808 State.
Last year, the band’s 1993 record Gorgeous made my Top 100 records of all time. I described it as:
…the perfect pairing to taking NyQuil. That’s a little unfair—when it came out, it was the perfect pairing with many, much stronger things. It was fun to have these sounds swirling around at the club or in your headphones while the walls shapeshifted around you.
That said, it’s more than that; it’s a beautiful sonic landscape that transcends the era it was made in and many of the records that came out of the same place.
Which, I mean…fair. But I don’t think you need to be on anything to enjoy that record, and you certainly don’t while listening to 90. The music is more than enough. Compared to today, some of the production might seem rudimentary—or at least minimalist. Some of that is due to the technology available at the time and what the band could afford. But the magic they made with what they had was something to behold. Besides pulse-pounding beats and the just-right BPM rate, some jazz elements were sprinkled in, lending the whole thing an experimental feel. This is a group masterful at transporting you back to wherever your favorite dance floor was.
House music is very good at helping you break a sweat, but it’s often very cold (this is what happens when music is made with machines!). Nothing wrong with that, but one of 808 State’s superpowers was making these tracks feel warm. There’s a strangely human element to them that’s lacking in many of the records from the same era. Just when you’re running on empty, they work in a soothing track like “Pacific 202” to give you a chance to catch your breath. They know what they’re doing.
In a dark time like this, the best music can be escapist. Rest is resistance, but so too is checking out and immersing yourself in some beats. 90 is just what the doctor ordered.
Bottom Line: I am once again in the weird spot of picking one record for my bracket while voting for the other. If LL Cool J was the ruthless ladies man that would steal your girl and your wallet, 808 State were the homies that would take you out on the town to forget it all. Ladies Love Cool James, and so do I, but my heart is still on the dancefloor. My bracket pick is Walking With a Panther. My vote is for 90.
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!
#33 Elvis Costello, Spike vs. #96 Screaming Trees, Buzz Factory
In this round, my bracket pick reflects what I thought would be the favorite. I picked with my head and not my heart. Tough call to go against the record you prefer, but here we are.
There’s some relief in knowing both are objectively good records, and both serve as inflection points for their respective careers. Having to pick between two good records is a good problem to have!
And if I’m honest—and can predict how the bracket will play out—there are some seriously tough calls on the horizon. Like some Solomon-level shit.
But for today, let’s look at each of these:
###
There are a handful of Seattle bands everyone knows. The Q-ratings of Soundgarden, Nirvana, and Pearl Jam are off the charts. Nothing wrong with that; we (collectively) like what we like.
But those bands tend to cast a long shadow, and underneath them were a whole ‘nother tier of bands that were just as good, who for whatever reason never hit critical mass the same way. Bands like Mudhoney, Tad, and Skinyard.
Bands like Screaming Trees.
1992’s Sweet Oblivion briefly put them on the map, and the hit single “Nearly Lost You” gave a glimpse of what their breakout might look like. But before that—before the hope/hype of the Seattle Sound (or whatever we were callin’ it) the band was grinding away on SST records, and in 1989 put out what was, IMO, their best record; Buzz factory.
The band’s fourth record shows them in fine form. Mark Lanegan’s voice is as strong as ever. Gary Lee Connor’s unique guitar sound delivers weapons grade levels of fuzz and wah-wah but never overwhelms. The rhythm section delivers a consistent muscular beat. Any questions are answered with the slinking groove that kicks off “Where the Twain Shall Meet.” This is a band much more similar to Led Zepplin than to their punk labelmates.
There are a couple of missteps here (take a bow Yard Trip #7), but those are the rare exceptions to the rule. Besides Where the Twain Shall Meet, standouts include “Subtle Poison” and closer “End of the Universe.” In between is some of the most solid, heavy-sounding grunge/psych rock to ever come out of Washington State.
In 1989, Elvis Costello was determined. New label, no Attractions, and after 2 years a new record to follow up two (relatively) well regarded releases.
I don’t know if “statement record” fits here, but I can’t help but think Costello went into the studio looking to prove something. With the benefit of hindsight, a demarcation line between the early era of Armed Forces and This Year’s Model and subsequent releases appears. I have to assume that if pressed, most people would recognize “Pump It Up.” As late as ’82 you might still be able to make the case with “Everyday I write the Book” off of Punch the Clock. But that’s an exception in a run of records that is largely a dry spell chart-wise. Even Costello didn’t much care for Goodbye Cruel World.
So! Back to Spike: There were no Attractions, Costello instead tapping a roster of, well, all kinds of musicians. T-Bone Burnett was there, as was Chrissie Hynde. Benmont Tench and Mitchell Froom, too. It’s a long list. And with that sort of variety comes a greater than zero chance that the result will be well done but inconsistent….or just a jumbled mess.
Having an anchor like Costello helps keep everything from spinning out of orbit. The horns on “Deep Dark Truthful Mirror” are a nice early touch. “Chewing Gum” is a strutting funk number. And of course, there was “Veronica,” a genuine hit, peaking at 19 on the Billboard Top 40, and topping the modern rock chart.
In the end, the variety is a positive. For better or worse, urgent tracks like “(What’s So Funny ‘Bout) Peace Love and understanding” and the aforementioned “Pump It Up” are what first come to mind when I think of Elvis Costello. But there are several years between those release and Spike. People change and sounds evolve. Listening to this again after several years (and maybe for the first time front to back?) the biggest upside for me are the little surprises. The horns here, the samba beat there.
Mixing it up keeps things moving right along
Bottom line: Head-to-head, Buzz Factory more closely aligns with my tastes. Had I voted my heart, that would’ve been my pick. But having Spike penciled in on my bracket is nothing to regret.
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!
Throwing Muses Hunkpapa vs. The D.O.C.’s No One Can Do It Better
Today sees #32 Throwing Muses ‘Hunkpapa’ album facing off against #97 The D.O.C.’s No One Can Do It Better.
I sent in a Designated Cheerleader piece for Hunkpapa, so that should tell you where my vote’s going. Last fall, Sam Colt and I took on the ambitious/absurd mission of ranking our top 100 records of all time. I slotted this one in at #48, and wrapped it up by noting:
“This band was like nothing I’d ever heard before. In a lot of ways, they still are. Writing this, I’ve struggled to pin down an easy genre tag or a way to describe the sound. Some of it feels like the sun’s surface (literally, in the case of “Dizzy”), and some of it reminds me of fall. I don’t know how best to describe this record besides saying, “Just go play it!” What I do know is that in the 30+ years (yikes!) since that show, this record has never drifted too far from my playlists.“
All that aside, IMO, this is a much tougher call than it would seem on paper. Both are incredible records–albeit for very different reasons. And both have had a lasting influence–albeit on much different groups of artists.
I blew out my knee right at the start of COVID (0/10 do not recommend), and The D.O.C. kept me company for a lot of my rehab. It’s a record of its time, but still sounds fresh.
There is some chatter that Hunkpapa is overranked, while the D.O.C. is underranked. I can see the case for each. What do you think? Who ya got?
Check out today’s write-up (and Designated Cheerleader article (not mine)here.
May 2025: Sam & I bring a some boom bap and Jeep beats to the table.
Good morning!
Today Sam Colt and I are each sharing a few of our favorite hip hop records from the 90s
Welcome to the fifth installment of our (not so) new series! For those of you who may have missed previous editions, here’s a bit of context:
In this monthly series, Sam Colt and I will each share our picks for artists and/or titles that haven’t received their due. You’ll recognize Sam’s name from our On Repeat and Friends Best of Series, and also our Top 100 of all-time serieslast fall. These posts will adopt the latter’s format; I will make my case for my three picks and my reaction to Sam’s. Sam’s page will do the reverse.
In the inaugural post, we noted that successive editions would narrow things down slightly. Maybe a specific genre…maybe a specific era…maybe a specific…well, who knows!
Break out your Timbs and turn up the Alpine; This month, we’re each making a case for a few underrated hip hop records from the 90s.
California’s share of the Best Coast is just under 900 miles, but NorCal and SoCal might as well be two different universes. In many ways, they are—and certainly were in the 90s. While NWA talked about bumpin’ in the city of Compton and Snoop’s smooth drawl introduced us all to the LBC, there was a whole world of hip hop artists up the road in the Bay Area. E-40 was there. Too Short, too. And then there were The Hieroglyphics; a collective made of cats like Del Tha Funky Homosapien, Casual, and Souls of Mischief.
Back then, we didn’t have any money. People did odd jobs, this and that. So I didn’t have a whole bunch of money to buy records, but I did whenever I could. I found that particular record, it’s a Billy Cobham album called Crosswinds. At that point it wasn’t one of the hot records for people to sample. It didn’t cost hella money, it was in the dollar bin. I just grabbed it, and when I got home, I listened to the sample. I used to listen to my samples on 45, because I didn’t have much sampling time in my sampler. [It was] some cheap shit. [The record is] a little gritty, but listening to it on 45, I was like, “Aw, this’d be dope, I’m gonna make it uptempo.”
The latter were perhaps the best of the lot…or at least made the best record of the bunch. The title track is an all-timer—and with good cause—but the album is here on your screen because it’s solid all the way through. Like The Pharcyde below, Souls of Mischief spent a lot of time digging through the crates looking for melodies, jazz, and other touches that gave the record a languid and infectious sound.
Lyrically, the crew was using words in ways others hadn’t thought of yet. And while they were still talking about the same things as other rappers (girls, guns, weed), they were doing it with a vibe that could only have come from the Bay Area.
You chillin’?
Sam’s pick and my take: Big L- Lifestylez Ov Da Poor & Dangerous
Sometimes, timing is everything. 1995 was a banner year for hip hop. Mobb Deep dropped an all-timer. Seemingly half of the Wu-Tang Clan released solo records, and even The Pharcyde followed up Bizarre Ride II with Labcabincalifornia. It was… a lot. Charts and tastes are finite spaces. Something had to give, and one Lamont “Big L” Coleman got lost in the wake. Before the comments light up, I’m sure the true heads knew about this record, but no one I knew was talking about it. And in 1995, I was 3 time zones away from Harlem.
Lifestylez pops off with “Put it On,” a track with a weapons-grade boom bap that quickly establishes that he’s taking no prisoners. We’re off to a strong start. Listening to follow up “M.V.P.” bugged me. Not because it’s bad—it’s not— but because I couldn’t place the sample. Dear reader, I spent way too long trying to figure out that it was “Stay With Me” from De Barge, but one I recognized from The Notorious B.I.G. Yes I know WhoSampled exists. Nevertheless…
A lot of the records on this list transcend the era in which they were made. They sound as relevant now as they were in the last millennium (eek). This one bets the other way. It 100% sounds like something made in the mid-90s. To my ear, that’s high praise. This is the sort of style I gravitate to more than any other. I’ll take all of this you got! This is a great record released in the middle of a tidal wave of great records. I have to think that had the timing been better, it would’ve been huge.
The Pharcyde- Bizarre Ride II the Pharcyde
Hip hop has always had an urgent side. A side that shines a harsh light on the plight of others and pulls the curtains back on parts of society most of us either don’t know or choose to ignore. Public Enemy and NWA are great examples of each, and I’d argue that both are (very) necessary.
But you can only listen to so much before burning out. You need a record with some bounce that is serious but doesn’t take itself too seriously—one that’s dare I say…fun? You need a record like Bizarre Ride II The Pharcyde.
A good record also makes you take a step back and excitedly mutter something like “oh shit” while you try to make sense of what you’re experiencing.
It’s not lost on me that the first words you hear on this record are “oh shit” and from a comedian. Bizarre Ride II is a record that will make you laugh and rearrange your mind in equal measure. The question isn’t if either of those will happen, it’s which one will happen first.
Musically, the album is much more elaborate than many of its contemporaries. There’s plenty of bass, but the crew builds elaborate soundscapes. The ride takes you through jazz, psychedelia, and just about everything else along the way. It’s a record that is much more in the vein of Paul’s Boutique than, say, something from Grandmaster Flash.
Lyrically, the crew knows their way around a little braggadocio (I mean, there’s an entire track of “Yo Mama” disses), but are much more interested in self-deprecating humor. There’s swagger in the verses, but an undercurrent of vulnerability underneath. Chuck D’s not gonna drop a line like “Damn I wish I wasn’t such a wimp“ the way they do on “Passin’ Me By.” Also: is this the first instance of “simp” being used in a track? Young guns take note.
Hip hop expert and friend of On Repeat Records Jeffrey Harvey nailed it, writing:
The Pharcyde are at their most inspired and relatable when addressing affairs of the heart. The album reach’s its zenith with a pair of colorfully imaginative parables of love lost, found, and unreciprocated.
“Passin’ Me By” stands not only as The Pharcyde’s signature song, but one of the signature songs of early ’90s hip-hop. From the first shuffle of the inverted drum loop cribbed from Jimi Hendrix’s “Are You Experienced?,” J-Swift’s meticulously constructed sample collage evokes the dizzying dervish of teenaged infatuation. Spirits soar high and crash hard as the fearless foursome hand their hearts to a quartet of enchanting young ladies, only to have them ignominiously broken.
The record has some skits; long-time readers may recall that I’m not a fan of those. But they are used in moderation here, and aren’t quite the distraction they can be on other records.
The worst part is that you have to wade through them before getting back to the good stuff. “Soul Flower” is an absolute banger, and relistening to the record ahead of this write-up, I found myself reaching for the “back” button a couple of times before remembering that I needed to keep moving.
The MCs are breaking new ground, but aren’t so busy that they don’t give an occasional nod to those who came before them. On “Officer,” a verse tips its hat to none other than Public Enemy’s “Black Steel in the Hour of Chaos,” but make sure that you remember what record you‘re playing by dropping a verse like this on “So I Ramble”:
About my life, is actually shambles Should have took the bus A bus without the silence or some old Nikes I wish we had good bikes We need to exercise
At one point on “Soul Flower,” they ask, “How long can you freak the funk?” The answer, in this case, is 56 minutes and 39 seconds—the whole damn record.
Sam’s pick and my take: UGK- Ridin’ Dirty
If it’s not already patently obvious, I’m not the target demographic for records like Ridin’ Dirty. Case in point: at first glance, I confused this with Chamillionaire’s track, and thought maybe Sam had included something from the wrong decade. Silly me. It should also go without saying, but playing this at work might not be the best idea. Like many of the records on this list, the lyrics don’t always hold up. Pound for pound, this LP has more profanity than the rest.
Which is kind of my point. Maybe more so than any other, this one is the most gritty. The most “real,” whatever that means. There’s no lack of bombast and bravado here, and -again, maybe I’m not the best one to plant this flag— but a lot of it sounds like UGK spent some time at the G-Funk finishing school. The fluid beats and rhymes all feel like maybe you’re on your second cup of Lean, or maybe you’ve been out in the Houston humidity too long. Either way, this was an enjoyable ride…not sure if it’s possible to be riding dirty in a Subaru wagon, but here we are.
Life in the dirty south might not be for the weak of heart, but that doesn’t mean you can’t have a little fun.
Handsome Boy Modeling School- So…How’s Your Girl?
You might not recognize the name Prince Paul, but having worked on the boards for everyone from Stetsasonic to De la Soul (and as a member of Gravediggaz), you know his work.
Dan “The Automator” Nakamura might be a tougher call. Still, there’s no doubt he’s made his mark, producing all sorts of indie rap records and perhaps most (relatively) famously releasing Dr. Octagonecologyst, a collab with him, Kool Keith, and DJ Q-Bert.
The two producers became friends, and like any close friendship, developed a second language of inside jokes. They also became fans of comedian Chris Elliott, which…is a choice. But from Elliot’s work came a reference; the sort of thing you sling back and forth in your texts. A wink and a nod that makes total sense to you, and absolutely none to everyone else on Earth.
Handsome Boy Modeling School was born from a plot line in an episode of Elliot’s show.
So to recap: you have two producers known for their quirky styles, a project built off the cuff, and named after a plot in a largely forgotten sitcom episode.
There were really only two ways this could have gone:
A: It was going to be a groundbreaking record built by—and for— the true heads
B: It would be too clever by half, become an oddity ouroboros, and collapse under it’s own weight.
25+ years later, I think it’s safe to say that it is absolutely an example of the former. The producers might be idiosyncratic, but they leverage that to their advantage here, creating track after track of incredible work. A record crate diggers would love, but one that was also accessible to everyone else.
And they brought some friends along. Long before “collab” was a verb we all knew, the two invited MCs from all corners to come through. Grand Puba is here. So is DJ Shadow (note: this record may remind many of his Endtroducing record). So too are Beastie Boy Mike D and (checks notes) one half of Cibo Matto— the two appearing on the same track should paint a clear picture of what sort of collage was built here. It only gets better from there.
So… How’s Your Girl is hip hop for those with discerning tastes, for the people who look at ID’ing samples as a parlor game, and for those who want something unconventional in their crate.
Sam’s pick and my take: De La Soul- De La Soul is Dead
You didn’t even have to play the record to see that the D.A.I.S.Y. Age was over; the wilted flowers and broken pot were right there on the cover. If that wasn’t enough, the title was a dead giveaway: De La Soul is Dead.
The D.A.I.S.Y. Age might have passed, but only the version of De la Soul we all knew was gone. You’d be excused for only knowing “Me, Myself, and I,” but the trio (and Prince Paul!) made quick moves to ensure the band didn’t become a novelty act. The follow-up is a pivot sharp enough to give you whiplash, but plays to the group’s strengths. The middle child in an incredible 3-record run (3 Feet High and Rising, De La Soul is Dead, and 1993’s trippy Buhloone Mindstate) is arguably the best of the three.
Like many records from the era, there are once again too many skits for my tastes, and that makes for a 27-track LP that would be much better as a 15-16 joint. But that’s a small price to pay for getting all-timers like “A Roller Skating Jam Named ‘Saturdays,’” or watching them take on heavier themes in tracks like “My Brother’s a Basehead.” And of course, the sample-rich jams that are Prince Paul’s trademark.
It’s not lost on me that we both picked a Prince Paul-related project as one of our picks. If there is a poster boy for “understated” in the hip-hop game, it’s him. He also has an almost unblemished track record of putting out shelf-stable records that sound as fresh today as they did on Day 1.
If sales are anything to go by, the message flew over a lot of people’s heads, and many copies of this record were left to collect dust on record store shelves. But that’s their loss. De La Soul is Dead showed that not only were they back—they were a force to be reckoned with.
That’s a wrap! What are your thoughts on these records? Do you own any of them? Share your thoughts in the comments! Rants, raves, and spicy takes are all welcome. And if you have any ideas on future themes, please share those as well! Don’t forget to check out Sam’s thoughts over at This Is a Newsletter!
Val Lowry-Ortega’s latest project speaks of big dreams in small town America
Photo: : Hannah Marie Belisle
Good Morning!
Today we’re listening to Minneapolis-based Oceanographer
Over the last few years, our journey to find new music has taken us to some odd corners of the country. We’ve made stops in places as far afield as Bellingham, Washington; Bloomington, Indiana; Athens, Georgia; and Portland, Maine.
Today, we’re staying in flyover country and hopping over the border into Minnesota.
The upper Midwest is dotted with small towns full of people with big dreams. Growing up in rural Worthington, MN, Val Lowry-Ortega was no exception. Like many from small towns (or suburbs), most of their school years were spent counting the days to get out of town; they left right after graduation. After receiving a scholarship, Lowry-Ortega Initially channeled their energy toward acting, but quickly found their heart wasn’t in it. Playing the guitar to put off doing coursework ultimately became the genesis of their musician origin story. It was a much better fit.
After a stop in central Wisconsin, they moved to the Twin Cities, met up with some friends, and Oceanographer was born.
It’s probably good that it didn’t work out with NYU anyway, because going through my acting program made me realize how off-path I was. I didn’t want to be told what to do by other people. I wanted to write my own work that I had full creative control over. So, I honed in on my songwriting and started playing small gigs with the folk punk community in Stevens Point. I introduced my first iterations of my songs in grimey basements littered with beer cans, but I finally felt like I was heading in the right direction, oddly enough.
Deep Sea Diver taps heavily into those early years and the constraints of life in a small ton. Lowry-Ortega describes the sounds as “Midwest Dream Folk… a happy mix of Laurel Canyon Folk, 90s Dream Pop, and Midwest Emo.” The presser lists bands like Big Thief as comparisons, and even suggested The Sundays! Those are all apt, but listening I was reminded of KD Lang as well. Not everyone can nail that wistful sense of longing. Lowry-Ortega does.
When they sing His black eye swollen shut with shame/ Still half undressed in the window frame/He said that he had everything/But he gambled it away on “Midwestern Cowoby” you feel it.
The EP is three tracks full of guitars, lap steel, and easy beats, supporting her powerful vocals. It’s a bit folk, a bit country, and even a bit of pop- all with some gothic overtones sprinkled across the top. The lilting melodies belie the sometimes not-so-gorgeous stories of dreams unrealized and lives never fully lived. It’s the story of some people watching the big sky, yearning for something more, and of others destined to keep up appearances and settle for what they think they’re supposed to.
It’s the sound of something you’d hope to find on the AM dial while driving between Worthington and the Twin Cities, leaving the silos in your wake.
For readers in the Twin Cities area, the band has several upcoming shows!
June 1st Grand Ole Days (Solo) 12:30PM-5:00PM
June 12th Kingfield porchfest 6-9PM
June 13th at The Mess’s Backyard Blend With Skeleton Crew, Not Your Baby, and Modern Wildlife 6pm doors, 6:30pm show
July 2nd songwriter round at Greenway Recording (solo) 7:30PM Doors/ 8PM Music
July 8th New Band Night at The Green Room 6:30PM Doors, 7PM Music
July 16th at Pilllar Forum With Finick and Natl Park Service Load in at 5, Doors at 6
July 26th Hot Dog Party at the Black Hart, St. Paul With ?Watches?, Dollchaser, Lure of Lilith, Mystery Meat, and Splendid 12-6PM (Benefit in support of trans youth)
Deep Sea Diver is out now on all platforms.
Listen:
Oceanographer | Deep Sea Diver (EP) 2025
Click the record to listen via Bandcamp
As always, I’d love to hear your thoughts on this record!
Kevin Sent 
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