Tag: reviews

The Best Record of 1989: Day 20

by KevinLeave a Comment on The Best Record of 1989: Day 20

#36 The Cult, Sonic Temple vs. #93 Lenny Kravitz, Let Love Rule

Good morning!

Today we’re taking a look at records from The Cult and Lenny Kravitz

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 16: #41 Mekons, The Mekons Rock n’ Roll takes on #88 Slint’s Tweez

Day 17: #4 The Cure, Disintegration vs. #125 Cher’s Heart of Stone

Day 18: #61 The Blue Nile, Hats vs. #68 Soul II Soul, Club Classics Vol. 1

Day 19: #29 XTC, Oranges and Lemons vs. #100 Pizzicato Five, On Her Majesty’s Request

KA—

By 1989, The Cult was riding high. Their previous two outings (Love and Electric) had brought legions of fans into the fold. Who could blame them for peacocking a little bit? Sonic Temple is the manifestation of all of those elements. It’s the band at the loudest. The riffs their most muscular. Ian Astbury’s voice has two settings: kind of loud and “hell yeah.” Both are on display here. Most casual listeners will recognize the track “Fire Woman,” as it still receives fairly routine airplay on classic rock stations. “Sweet Soul Sister” does, too, albeit much less often.

Not everyone was on board; with Robert Christgau noting, “Having risen from cultdom as a joke, metal band, metal fans were too dumb to get, and they transmute into a dumb metal band. Dumb was the easy part. Ha ha.”

That’s it. That’s the entire review. Oof.

And, look, I get it. This isn’t for everyone. Sonic Temple is the record you heard coming from the garage of that guy down the block who was always working on his car. The record practically came with a fleece-lined Levi’s jacket. This is the stuff of V8s and backroads. It will not fare well in a Prius.

But if you’re in? This fills the bill. It’s a record that seethes and writhes. Billy Duffy’s riffs tower over you. Iggy Pop pops in for a cameo in “New York City.” It’s a rollicking good time. It’s not the cure for insomnia.

Sonic Temple is a pretty straightforward record. What you see is what you get. Simple. It’s a lot of things, but dumb isn’t one of them.

At the airport where I work, there is an ordinance stating that taxis cannot pick up passengers anywhere along the terminal roadway. Examining it from a strictly practical perspective, this makes sense. There’s literally only one roadway, and even for a mid-sized town with a 16-gate terminal, it can get sketchy. You’d be surprised how often people manage to come down it the wrong way. It is much better to have all of the cabs in one spot where you can pick and choose which company, etc.

All well and good…as long as you know the backstory…which I usually have to explain about 1-2x a month to someone wondering why no cabs will stop for them. I go out front to get some steps in and find myself explaining that, no, this isn’t a case of racism-institutional or otherwise–just a weird result of bad engineering and county ordinances.

And almost every time it happens, I get Kravitz’s “Mr. Cab Driver” stuck in my head. For better or worse, it’s got a stone-cold groove and is IMO the best track on the record. I’d love for it to be hopelessly out of date, but as we all know, it’s not. We’ve come a long way. We’ve got a ways to go.

At any rate, the track is an exception on an otherwise good but frankly sanitary record. There’s no arguing Kravitz’s talent as a musician, but with few exceptions, it feels like a pastiche of the back end of the Beatles’ catalog and maybe a dash of classic rock. Some of the tracks sound good and loud. That’s cool, but there aren’t really any boundaries broken or corners pushed up against.

Times may have changed, but even in ’89, this feels like a record a Gap manager would be safe playing in-store.

Let love rule? Sure. However, that has been done over and over. Where’s the edge? The closest we get is the F-bomb dropped on Mr. Cab driver, and even that isn’t half as angry as the people I sometimes run into at work.

Bottom Line: Both records are textbook cases of “what you see is what you get.” There’s no larger message or meaning here. Within that context, but are fine records that hold up well. Neither feels particularly groundbreaking, even when listening with the benefit of hindsight.

My vote: If you held both records out in front of me and said, “Pick one!” I’d go with Sonic Temple. Of the two, it’s the one I enjoyed playing 2x in a row. My bracket and vote will be going toward Messrs. Astbury and Duffy.

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 19

by KevinLeave a Comment on The Best Record of 1989: Day 19

29 XTC, Oranges and Lemons vs. #100 Pizzicato Five, On Her Majesty’s Request

Good morning!

Today we’re taking a look at records from XTC & Pizzicato Five

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—

Memphis can be a funny place to live if you’re not from there. The traffic is like a video game; the people are either the nicest you’ll ever meet or not, and so on. Living there briefly in the late ’90s is something I’ve tried to memory-hole, but a few moments still stand out. One of which was an impossibly sunny day. The sort of day where you think nothing could make this even better…and then XTC’s “King for a day” comes on the radio. And let me tell you, blasting this, windows down as I whizzed along on I-240 might be the highlight of my time living there.

“I don’t know how to write a big hit song” is a funny line coming from someone like Andy Partridge. And it’s true that he–and XTC– haven’t exactly dominated the charts, but that’s more an indictment of our tastes than his skill. This is, after all, the band that gave us “Generals and Majors,” “Senses Working Overtime,” and “Making Plans for Nigel.” One of their biggest (“Dear God”) is a B-side on a single that should’ve been a hit (“Grass”). Maybe they were too self-serious; maybe it was a timing issue.

All of that to say that by the time 1989 rolled around, I can’t blame the band for saying “F it” and just making a fun record. Brian Wilson’s passing has colored everything I’m listening to right now, but it seems clear to me that the band had been spending a lot of time steeped in the Beach Boys’ discography. The sounds, the textures, and the lushness of it all scream Pet Sounds twenty years later. Even the cover is bright and gaudy—certainly compared to the band’s other releases.

The knock on this record is that it’s a handful of songs too long. That’s a fair point, though I’d argue that its highs more than make up for its lows. And the lows aren’t that bad- it’s just that they’re being held to impossibly high stands. “Mayor of Simpleton” and “The Loving” (written by Colin Moulding) are fantastic. Album closer “Chalkhills and Children” feels woozy and dreamy in equal parts. Like it’s about to wilt in the Tennessee humidity. It’s a last burst of quiet pop perfection and ends the record on a great note.

The line I began with is from “The Mayor of Simpleton,” a track many will tell you is pure pop perfection —and it is. It’s stuffed to the gills with hooks and pop goodness—and it’s not even the poppiest track on the record. That title belongs to “King for A Day” (another Moulding track). King For a Day is happy-go-lucky. It’s bright and sunny- so much so that it comes dangerously close to treacly. It waltzes right up to the line but never crosses it. Instead, we get three and a half minutes of bliss. Enough so that it can even make city driving in Memphis seem okay.

How is it possible that something so effortlessly cool is in the same bracket challenge as Motley Crue? This was the band that your art school friend was tipped off to during a stint as an exchange student. It’s the perfect blend of city pop, jazz, swagger, and Burt Bacharach. There are horns. Synths for days. Timpanis, for god’s sake! “Bellissima 90” practically commands you to strut down the block.

Pizzicato Five maintains some of this cachet simply by making it hard to find their work. For example, most of their discography isn’t available on streaming services; your best bet is YouTube. Even then, the song titles are often in Japanese, which isn’t awesome if you can’t read it. On the one hand, this sucks, as this record is a gateway to what their next few would sound like. On the other, clear those hurdles, and man! You are in for a treat. A wild ride through smooth sounds, city lights, and the rarified air that only the coolest of the cool ever get to walk through.

Note: In 1995, the record was remastered and reissued under the title “By Her Majesty’s Request.”

Bottom Line: Both records are lush soundscapes packed full of pop goodness. if it were up to me, these would’ve been seeded much closer together. I love both and this might be the toughest call to make all week?

My vote: I think lack of name recognition-and accessibility- will be Pizzicato Five’s downfall here. I can’t see ‘em making it past XTC, but won’t be sad if they do. And if just one person becomes a fan of the band after this, it’ll all be worth it. My bracket and vote will both be going to Oranges and Lemons.

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—

The Best Record of 1989: Day 13

by KevinLeave a Comment on The Best Record of 1989: Day 13

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

Good morning!

Today we’re taking a look at records from Tom Petty and Negativland

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—

Tom Petty has never backed down from a fight.

In 1979, Tom Petty found himself a million miles away from Gainesville, Florida, in Los Angeles Superior Court right in the heart of a legal battle with his record label. While recording his third album for Shelter Records, the label’s parent company was acquired by MCA. When Petty tried to opt out of his contract, he found himself in court. Petty threatened to scrub his forthcoming record, and MCA petitioned to seize the tapes from the band’s sessions.

After each session, Petty had an engineer hide the recordings as a preemptive strike. Refusing to back down (heh), he even filed for bankruptcy, forcing MCA to open his contracts to renegotiation.

Years later, while recording Full Moon Fever, his label informed him that they didn’t hear a single and wouldn’t release the record. This time, Petty recorded a Byrds cover, “Feel a Whole Lot Better,” as a concession.

His label might’ve thought it didn’t hear a single, but the public sure did. Working with ELO’s Jeff Lynne behind the boards, this is the record that gave us “Free Fallin’,” “Runnin’ Down a Dream,” and, of course, “I Won’t Back Down.” Anyone of these would’ve carried a lesser record, but Full Moon Fever also gave us the seething “Love is a Long Road” (this writer’s fave track on the record).

That it’s considered something of a deep cut tells you all you need to know—both about the strength of this record and how far off the mark label execs were.

As I scream into middle age, one of the things I find myself enjoying is college football—the pomp… the tribal identity…all of it. I also love how certain schools have adopted songs to play at specific points during the game, electrifying the crowd and rallying the team. My beloved Oregon Ducks play the Otis Day & The Knights’ version of “Shout!”. The Wisconsin Badgers play House of Pain’s Jump Around, and the crowd’s reaction has shown up on seismographs.

And in 2017, 90000+ Florida Gators fans sangTom Petty’s “I Won’t Back Down.” It was a moving tribute to their hometown hero who had passed away days earlier and never left in many ways. I don’t know what Petty would think of all that, but I like to think he’d flash that trademark half smile of his and nod approvingly.

Negativland has had its own share of battles, but theirs have been more of their own doing than anything else, including media stunts like linking one of their songs to a real-life murder— which they ginned up to get out of going on tour. Okay then.

On the surface, Negativland feels like an art-school version of Consolidated. Both put out screeds against the establishment. Consolidated wove in bits of audience commentary from their shows; these guys used news clips and other media. Neither pulled any punches with the establishment, and both records are a harsh commentary on society’s bloodlust. The former leaned much more towards politics (and particularly at the global level), but both used records as a mirror held up to a society largely high on its own supply.

“Helter Stupid” (the song) stands out for its deft weaving of bits and beats together. It’s a sonic collage, and anyone who’s ever done a mashup owes a tip of the hat to the Bay area trio. If executives couldn’t hear a single on Full Moon Fever, what would they make of the 18-minute title track here?

Reviewing ‘The Myth of Rock’ last year, I noted that its relevance was also its biggest bummer. I had hoped by now that the points made in 1990 would seem quaint, something that would make kids glance askance when they learned about them in history class. Instead, it was as timely as ever. Empire building and crass consumerism are still in style, it would seem.

Helter Skelter (the song) is no different. If anything, in this era of deepfakes and disinformation, it might be even more relevant now than it was in 89. We love us some tawdry headlines and a delicious scandal. The names might’ve changed, but the mindset has not. These are not tracks that will ever be sung in the stands, but it would be nice if 50000 Gator fans (or whoever) at a time could take these lessons to heart.

The rest of the record is a series of tracks, all titled “The Perfect Cut (something).” Seven more tracks of taking seemingly a bazillion different songs and sound bites, throwing them in a blender, and then pouring whatever resulted into the recording. It’s a fun exercise in what’s possible with both mashups — and now stitching — but it becomes tiresome at a point. Brilliant doesn’t always equal beguiling, and gamifying “name that sample” is good for about a track-and-a-half. After that, I lose interest. If this were an EP, this would be a much tougher call to make. As it is, I’m happy someone got their pet pick into the bracket, but also happy that I won’t have to write up this record again.

Bottom Line: Maybe it’s just my cargo shorts talking, but Petty’s got a leg up on Q-rating, strength of the record itself, and more. Negativland’s message is timely, but Full Moon Fever sounds timeless. This was never going to be a fair fight.

My vote: Bracket and Vote will both go to Gainesville’s favorite son.

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 12

by KevinLeave a Comment on The Best Record of 1989: Day 12

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

Good morning!

Today we’re taking a look at records from Chris Isaak and Technotronic.

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—

Chris Isaak’s third record might be called Heart Shaped World, but to me, it evokes a different shape- that of the road. The record feels like it’s a soundtrack for a road trip. Or maybe the musical score to Blue Highways. Most people know the record for the (IMO) interminable Wicked Game —and it’s not lost on me that its use in Wild at Heart was its launchpad to smash hit territory. But if that’s all you know, you’re missing out on, frankly, much better tracks. Isaak and Co. are tapping into the vein of early American rock here – think Ricky Nelson, Elvis, etc.

If you’ve ever burned up the miles on late-night drives through the middle of nowhere, you’ll know the mood “Kings of the Highway” evokes. “I’m Not Waiting” is what you’ll likely hear as you open the door and walk into the severe florescent lights of the ever elusive four calendar cafe. “Don’t Make Me Dream” drops right into a swanky groove with just the right amount of sax across the top.

We’re not even 10 minutes in, and things are already heating up.

If you’re reading this and wondering just what the heck I’m talking about, give the record a spin. There are two Chris Isaaks; both are fairly self-serious & introspective, but one is a balladeer trafficking in dirges, the other much less melancholy. To my ear, it’s the latter that carries this record and makes it worth one’s time.

If you happen to find yourself sitting at the bar in a juke joint along the way, “Wrong to Love You”—not salvation— is what you’ll find in the bottom of that glass. And in the moment, it’ll be just the thing. Ditto most of the back half of this record. Hell, there’s even a Bo Diddley cover at the end to wrap things up.

There’s only one clunker here —and it’s a doozy. “In the Heat of the Jungle” is terrible. There’s really no other way to frame it. It’s as out of place as Warren Zevon’s “Leave My Monkey Alone” is on his Sentimental Hygiene album. We’re not in the same rarified air as The Police’s “Mother,” but we can see it from here. Yikes.

Look, I know people love “Wicked Game.” Checking Spotify, it’s currently at 863m plays. The next closest is his “Blue Spanish Sky” at ~10m. Things drop off precipitously from there. All data tells a story, and the story here is that many people only know Isaak from this one track. They’re missing out.

Pump up the jam should be taken—and appreciated—for what it is. At its core, this is a party record. It does not apologize for this. It doesn’t try to rationalize it. It never dares pretend it’s anything serious. It is not political. The dancefloor is/was an escape for many of us, and Technotronic wanted to help you get there.

Technotronic emerged from the Belgian New Beat scene. By 1989, that wave had crested, and label owner Jo Bogaert was desperate for a new hit to turn things around. New Beat had always been closely connected with Chicago House, and this time would prove no different. Bogaert formed the Pro 24s and put out “Technotronic,” drawing heavily from a sample of Farley Jackmaster Funk’s “The Acid Life.”

Sidebar: Before I forget, all credit and a shoutout to Pe Dupre who writes the incredible The 12 Inch newsletter for the extensive background on this record’s title track.

So, you had a track with a thumping beat, some synths, and just the right BPM to get everyone moving. The missing piece? Vocals. Enter Ya Kid K and her mix of rapping and singing. With everything in place, a hit was born.

It’s worth noting here that Technotronic made the same move as other bands (Black Box, C & C Music Factory) at the time, putting a model in the video/cover/whatever and trying to pass them off as the actual vocalist. Martha Wash’s fight for credit was a hard-fought battle. In this case, Ya Kid K had a shorter but no less steep path, and before too long, Felly Kilingi was out, with the rapper out in front where she rightfully belonged.

So, we all know “Pump Up the Jam,” and most of us remember “Get Up (Before the Night Is Over).” Maybe “Move This” as well, boosted somewhat by its use in makeup ads. But what about the rest of the record?

“Tough” sees MC Eric join the fray and slows the pace a little. The word “little” is doing a lot of work here – this is still something you could easily see blaring through an arena’s sound system ahead of your hometown NBA team coming out onto the court. Just close your eyes and pretend there are a lot of neon lights — and maybe a t-shirt cannon.

No rap (or vocals, really) on “Come On.” Just a few clips interspersed through the track.

Reading up on this, I learned that “Rockin’ Over the Beat” was a single off the record, but I’d never heard it. I mean, I’d heard it (once you’ve heard one Technotronic track, you’ve heard ’em all), but still.

It’s more of the same, really. And depending on what you’re looking for, that’s either a good thing or a bad one.

In my case, it’s a notch in column A. Dusting this off, I fully expected something stale and poorly aged. Instead, I found something that has held up well for what it is—and what it never pretends to be.

Will I listen to this again? Yeah, probably. I work an impossibly early shift and often lean on things like this to give me a boost in those first hours. I have a coworker who’s really into EDM and House, and I’m curious how they’d take some of these lesser-known tracks.

Looking for a dancefloor filler with industrial-strength hi-hats? Synths? They got you. Beats that never quit? Yep, that too. Sometimes, that’s all you need.

Bottom Line: Today’s matchup features two records that rightly or wrongly have been shackled with one massive hit casting a shadow over everything else. Pump Up the Jam and Heart Shaped World both feature tracks that are well worth your time, depending on what you’re looking for.

My vote: I think people’s (collective) will recall Isaak in a brighter light. Filling out my bracket, I was concerned most would relegate Technotronic to novelty act status and chose accordingly.

That said my vote today could’ve gone either way, but I was in a more analog mood, so despite Wicked Game and In the Heat of the Jungle, I’ll check the box for Isaak.

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.

Leave a comment

The Best Record of 1989: Day 11

by Kevin2 Comments on The Best Record of 1989: Day 11

Prince’s Batman soundtrack takes on The Durutti Column’s Vini Reilly


Today we’re taking a look at Prince’s Batman record as it faces off against Durutti Column’s Vini Reilly.

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 won’t bury the lede here; when I think of Batman, it’s of the Adam West Cesar Romero era. I want camp and bad jokes. I want the dorky Biff! Bam! Pow! graphics that popped on the screen during fight scenes. I want the Batusi.

When I think of Prince, I want that irresistible funk and nasty groove that can only come out of Paisley Park. And I want a bit of controversy sprinkled across the top. I want, well, “Controversy.”

I’m also not the biggest fan of soundtracks- whether the OST ones or the “songs from” type. There are a few exceptions (e.g., Singles and 24 Hour Party People), but as a rule, those are full of bands/songs I’m already listening to.

Sometimes, a soundtrack spits the difference, and a single artist/band crafts a soundtrack to a movie that catches my ear, but off the top of my head, only Wang Chung’s To Live and Die In LA fits that bill.

To put it another way, Prince’s Batman record did not check a lot of boxes for me. It’s not the OST (Danny Elfman wrote that). Instead, it’s nine tracks, of which two got some decent screen time, the rest relegated to bits and pieces here and there.

Perhaps that’s part of why it’s not memorable compared to the rest of his discography. Prince is not known as a guy who puts filler on his records (at least not in this era, anyway), and yet here we are: an entire album of formulaic tracks. Of little bits that do well to augment a film scene but grow tiresome quickly in their entirety. And on the other end of the spectrum, a 6+ minute Batdance track that is about 3:30 too long.

Again, give me the Batusi over whatever this is.

Not even Sheena Easton can save the awful “Arms of Orion.” This is the same pair that knocked it out of the park with “U Got the Look” just a couple of years earlier. Where’s that heat?!

This is a record that relies on the film itself to work; without that symbiosis, it fails to take off. I’m mindful that I’m measuring it against Price’s other work– an unfairly high bar–but still.

Reading up on this ahead of listening, I came across the idea that this was initially supposed to be an album split between Michael Jackson and Prince. MJ would take on the role of Batman, with Prince taking on the Joker.

If only. That kind of dichotomy would’ve made this a much more vibrant release! If nothing else, it would’ve made it more interesting.

As we go through this list, I’m finding myself surprised at how many bands I thought I’d heard (or had an idea of their sound), only to be proven dead wrong. If you looked at my music history, Durutti Column is a band—or a one-man band, mainly—that would be a logical fit. That one man would be Vini Reilly, the record’s namesake.

They were on Factory, which by default meant I was likely to check them out at least. Their name came up often enough in the circles I was swimming in. In ’89, Reilly was riding high after playing guitar and keys on Morrissey’s Viva Hate record. Listening now, I’m hit with the realization that I have absolutely never heard this before. Whatever the opposite of déjà vu is, I’m experiencing it in real time as I type.

The first thing that strikes me is that, in hindsight, this makes sense. In 1989, I wanted music with a pulse. With pace. And this ain’t it. This is gorgeous, experimental, and largely instrumental. And at that point in my life, instrumental was fine—as long as the BPM rate was above a certain threshold, and/or the bass hit hard enough. We don’t get any kind of verve until the mellow funk of People’s Pleasure Park at track 4. I was not a patient kid- no way would I have made it to this stage without passing.

The other thing that would’ve kept this from my tape deck or CD player was the aesthetics. I was in high school in 1989, and even amongst the indie crowd, there were fractures and factions. This seems like it would’ve appealed to the uber-pretentious among us. They were the people who wore black turtle necks year-round and performatively carried copies of The Stranger under their arms. My tribe wore skateboard T-shirts and over-indexed on louder, faster, and messier. As noted, there was plenty of techno & EDM and much love for anything “Madchester,” but this is something teenaged me almost certainly wouldn’t have got. I was a junkie— addicted to the rush sound gave me, and this was too low of a dose.

Back to today: listening now, I find this record genuinely interesting. It’s pleasant. I’m not saying either of those as a nicety. It’s varied. It has texutre. For a record, that’s now 36; it’s aging well—certainly compared to some of what came out of Factory during that era. I’m not sure I’d second the genius label Reilly had slapped on him, but his talent is not in question. This is a record I’d pick for a deep work session, but I worry it might be a little too interesting and prove a distraction. I can also say this is a record that I likely won’t listen to again after writing this piece. There’s just not enough of a pull to bring me back to it. Not enough “there” there.

Bottom Line: “You have so much potential” is a line that can trigger PTSD in a TAG kid decades later, and I’m loathe to invoke it here. Still, both these records need to hear it. Perhaps in a different universe, these records would’ve blown me away. But not in this one. Woulda, coulda, shoulda.

My vote: No heed/heart split here. My bracket and vote will both go to Prince; I think this is case of name recognition carrying an otherwise underwhelming matchup.

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!

2 responses to “The Best Record of 1989: Day 11”

  1. Ray Van Horn, Jr. Avatar
    Ray Van Horn, Jr.

    I still play that Prince Batman album A LOT. One man show, funky as eff.

    Reply
    1. Kevin Avatar
      Kevin

      I’m happy to hear it! Didn’t land for me, but you’ll get no argument from me about Prince being funky.

      Reply

Leave a comment