rock – Kevin Sent

Sound-Dust Is One of Stereolab’s Most Underrated (and Pivotal) Records

May 19, 2026by KevinLeave a Comment

Best Record of 2001: Day 42

Cover art courtesy of Elektra/Duophonic records.

Hello there!

Today we’re taking a look at Stereolab’s Sound-Dust LP.

I came to Sound-Dust long after hearing other Sterolab records on either side of the catalog, which probably changed the way I hear it.

By the time I got to it, I already knew a few of the albums that came before, and a few that came after, so I had at least a little context. What stood out right away was how complete(?) it felt. Stereolab is still Stereolab here, so you get the bleeps, bloops, and sidequests. The little left turns that can make their records feel like they’re always drifting just enough. On Sound-Dust, you get all of that, yet it somehow feels assembled into something more settled and, frankly, more satisfying.

I don’t want to say they finally figured out sequencing, but if the shoe fits…

The songs flow into each other with more purpose than I expect from a Stereolab album, and that gives the record a real shape, or actual arc. It still sounds weird, of course; wouldn’t be Stereolab if it didn’t!. But instead of sounding scattered, it comes across as composed.

That’s a part of why I think Sound-Dust deserves more attention than it usually gets. The other is that this is Mary Hansen’s last appearance, and her tragic death casts a long shadow. Obviously, no one knew this would be her final record, but listening to it today feels like having a front-row seat at the end of an era. The record itself is so bright and alive, and while I’d much prefer she were still here, it’s a great final act, and a great close to an era.

That said, Sound-Dust also feels like the band easing into the next stage. Again, obviously, hindsight helps, but it has that future-retro quality, where the old hallmarks are still there but smoothed out and arranged into something more unified/monolithic. Stereolab had always been good at making music that sounded like it came from somewhere in the future. Here, that instinct feels appropriate. Less like something from the Jetsons or Space Age bachelor pad, and more of it’s time. I really hope that makes as much sense on your screen as it does mine…

Ultimately, I think that’s why this one warrants some space in the “best Stereolab record” discourse. When you’re up against titans like Emperor Tomato Ketchup, Dots and Loops, or even Transient Random Noise Bursts w/Announcements, an upset is a tall ask.

I don’t think this is the best one they’ve ever released, but it is one that helps define what Stereolab became in the 2000s. It is graceful, strange, and surprisingly warm. It has enough twists and turns to keep you leaning in, but it also feels like a band at the top of their game, trusting their own instincts more than ever.

Bottom Line: This is facing of against Allison Krauss & Union Station, and while there’s no denying her incredible talent, thwer’s also no denying that it came close to being only my 2nd or 3rd DNF of this challenge so far. This just wasn’t my bag. Bracket pick and vote will be for the Groop.

Any thoughts on either this or any Stereolab records? Agree/disagree with my take? Sound off in the comments!

Stephen Malkmus’ Solo Debut Feels Like the Next Pavement Album

May 14, 2026May 14, 2026by KevinLeave a Comment

Best Record of 2001: Day 39

Good morning!

Today we’re taking a look at Stephen Malkmus’ self-titled debut

Note: As many of you saw, I recently wrote about a Best Record of 2001 challenge and noted that I’d be writing some of these up.

The plan is to do quick hits on each first-round matchup and post them directly to the page. Some will be longer, some won’t, and some might just be a handful of sentences. There’ll ~~probably~~ be a few typos. We’ll also have a few guest posts along the way, so make sure to stay tuned for those!

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

KA—

In 1999, indie rock legends Pavement went on hiatus. ultimately this break would stretch something like 20+ years, but it only took frontman Stephen Malkmus 18 months to get back in the saddle and drop a solo record.

The short version is this: his self-titled debut sounds like it could’ve very easily been the next record in the band’s discography. “A natural evolution from Terror Twilight!,” they’d all say. It’s as quirky as anything they ever put together, what with odd solos, fuzz in unexpected places, and lyrics that have you scrambling to Genius (or wherever) to confirm whether you actually heard what you thought you did.

Somewhere along the way, though, Malkmus decided to have…fun? He’s always been a bit of a gadabout, like the slightly off-kilter and always high guy that used to hang around the dorms. In other words, the indie aesthete personified. Now he’s a little older and wounded by a bunch of crappy gin and tonics. It’s not wholly refined, but it’s a good look.

I’m not saying this is sunshine pop, but look at any clip of Pavement back in the day: Mark Ibold looks like he’s having the time of his life. Maybe Bob a little too. Everyone else? Just seemed bummed AF to be there. I know performative misery was the style at the time, and maybe the joke leveled up and now flies over my head, but this feels much more earnest. Even when he’s at his most impish, it doesn’t feel like a front. I mean, there’s a vibraphone on here!

Maybe he had a “visited by three ghosts” moment or whatever, but it just feels like he’s relieved to be out doing his own thing and comfortable admitting he’s having fun doing it.

Pavement had their share of hooks, but Malkmus has gone all in on ’em here; the (perfectly titled) “The Hook” has a riff that’ll still be in your head this time tomorrow. Discretion Grove sounds like Fountains of Wayne doing a send-up of Pavement. It’s glorious. And on it goes.

Bottom Line: Malkmus is one of those artists who, even on the worst record, is still wildly entertaining. And what a breath of fresh air after yesterday’s claustrophobic ride through EDM, IDM, or whatever lipstick the hipsters are trying to slap on that Fennesz record.

Any thoughts on Pavement or this record? Agree/disagree with my take? Sound off in the comments!

What’re You Listening To?

May 11, 2026May 10, 2026by KevinLeave a Comment

The 2-lane highway from Portland’s western suburbs to the Oregon Coast was exactly 72 miles.

It usually took about an hour and a half. It was a little faster if traffic was light and we were in a fast car. Or a little longer if we were in my friend Matt’s VW bus. It never bothered us, though.

It’s hard to be in a hurry when the sun’s out and you’re with your friends.

No one ever felt the need to check their watch while moseying through the Coast Range listening to Bob Marley.

At this point, Marley’s “Legend” compilation record is the default reggae record. Even if you can’t name a single other title or artist, you invariably at least know this one. Released posthumously, it’s the best-selling reggae record of all time, racking up millions of copies sold as of this writing. At least a dozen of those sales were from us.

Is there any other record so closely associated with it’s genre?

Most of us wound up going deeper into Marley’s discography, but like so many others, “Legend” was our on-ramp to his music. There we’d be, singing, “Every little thing’s gonna be all right,” while the bus wheezed and gasped, struggling to carry us over the hills. We sang “get up stand up” and would wind up doing just that through the years. The Bush family derisively referred to Portland as “Little Beirut.” We wore it as a badge of honor.

But over on the left side of the map, those concerns were a million miles away- our only worries being gas money and hitting spots like Indian Beach.

Today, we remember Marley on the 45th anniversary of his passing.

Four decades plus is a long time to have been gone from this life, yet Marley’s music & vision resonate now more than ever.

If we want every little thing to be all right, we need to get up and stand up.

This week’s list has factory fresh tracks from BODEGA, Nightbus, Onesie, and Taxi Girls, and well as the usual sonic comfort food and deep cuts.

Side A is tracks 1-14 (ends with “The Barbeque Party”). Side B is tracks 15-27.

On to the music…

KA—

Other sources: Apple | Qobuz | YouTube Music |

Now it’s your turn.

Any new releases or shows you’re looking forward to? Whatcha got? Share your thoughts in the comments!

Bright Flight Finds David Berman at His Most Spartan, and Most Vulnerable

May 11, 2026by KevinLeave a Comment

On the Silver Jews’ 4th record, David Berman turns country influence into something wry, spare, and strangely intimate.

Good morning!

Today we’re taking a quick look at Silver Jews’ Bright Flight

Note: As many of you saw, I recently wrote about a Best Record of 2001 challengeand noted that I’d be writing some of these up.

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

KA—

David Berman strikes me as someone who could spend a week fussing over a line or turn of phrase, the kind of writer who sets an impossibly high bar for himself and then plays it off, trying to convince the world none of it matters. That contradiction is at the fore on Bright Flight, a record made in Nashville, a city fueled today by polish and sounds ready-made for radio by people whose idea of a pickup is an $80,000 monstrosity that never leaves the pavement. This is not Berman’s Nashville, and these are not his people. He’s much more at home among the rogues’ gallery of characters in the city’s underbelly, yet his lyrical skill is as good as anyone at the song factory that dots the city.

The record is filled with stories that are relatable and ones that likely only make sense in his head. Put simply, these are some of the best words he ever put to paper. Listening to a Silver Jews record always feels a little voyeuristic, like we’ve swiped his journal and are reading by flashlight.

Musically, this is one of the most spare records he put to tape. That’s by design. In Berman’s world, “going country” isn’t about big sounds or high production. Everything has an intentionally amateur quality to it; there’s some dirt on the lens. It’s also the first Silver Jews album on which his wife, Cassie, makes an appearance.

Nashville has certainly left its mark. “Run Away with Me, Darlin’” is country 101, and “Tennessee” meets the textbook definition, but only someone like him could drop a line like “Come to Tennessee / ’Cause you’re the only 10 I see” and not have me spraining my eyes from rolling them too hard. His cover of “Friday Night Fever” is far enough removed from George Strait’s original that you’d be excused for not knowing it wasn’t an original.

We all know how this story ends, but before Berman’s mid-air breakup, Bright Flight gave us some of the finest Silver Jews songs to date.

Bottom Line: Bright Flight is up against Princess Superstar’s Is, another artist I’d never heard of, and whose record turned out to be a godamned delight. My bracket pick went to Silver Jews, but tbh, had I listened to Is ahead of time, you might’ve been reading a different sentence. Either way, either of these will be fun to talk about in Round 2.

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

De La Soul Grow Up Gracefully on AOI: Bionix

May 10, 2026by KevinLeave a Comment

Best Record of 2001: Day 35

Good morning!

Today we’re taking a look at De La Soul’s AOI: Bionix.

Note: As many of you saw, I recently wrote about a Best Record of 2001 challenge and noted that I’d be writing some of these up.

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

KA—

A wise man once famously asked, “Well, how did I get here?” On AOI: Bionix De la Soul seems to be asking the same. Not in a bad, confused, old-man way, but in a bemused, slightly disoriented way. This is made by—and for—people who have graduated, moved out to the suburbs, and might have this playing while cleaning the house, instead of at a house party.

De La Soul sound older here, sure, but “older” doesn’t mean tired or reaching into a tired bag of tricks. They’re still playful, still clever, and still love a good sample. But there’s a polish on AOI: Bionix that makes the whole thing feel more measured than the chaos of 3 Feet High and Rising. Hard to put into words, but it feels like they turned the “sheen” dial up to 11.

That maturity works for me. In fact, it’s a big part of what makes the album interesting. Bionix isn’t trying to recapture youth so much as it’s trying to capture where the trio’s at. The record is uneven—feel free to skip “Pawn Star”— and tbh, it could probably lose three or four tracks and a few of the interstitial skits without sacrificing much (why are these skits a thing?!).

But even with the padding, the middle 100% holds. The production is smooth, the rhythms are locked in, and the samples are still doing that De La thing where they’re just familiar to recognize but also just far enough out of reach that you find yourself going to WhoSampled a lot.

“Baby Phat” is an obvious standout, and for good reason: it’s a banger. Or at least I think that’s still what we’re still callin’ ‘em. “Simply” and “Watch Out” also hit that sweet spot, with effortless grooves. They even took “Wonderful Christmas Time” and smoothed it out into something good. That’s a rare talent! Cee-Lo rocks up and puts in good work, as do Slick Rick and B Real. I’ve seen others comment that these two drag things down, but I didn’t see it that way. Sure, B Real is talking weed. What else did you expect? If anything needs to go, it’s the goddamned skits.

What AOI: Bionix really shows is that De La Soul could evolve without losing their personality. It’s not the wild, youthquake daisy-age energy of their debut, and it doesn’t need to be (nor should it). It’s a late-era album with some extra baggage but also a lot of charm, good taste, and enough great moments to make the uneven parts easy to forgive.

Bottom Line: This is up against Dismemberment Plan’s Change, a record that had we been doing in this in 2001 or even ‘02 or ‘03, I would’ve been lauding from the rooftops. This is very much the lane I was in at the time. And man, even now there are spots that just nail it, yaknow? If I squint hard enough, I can see mid-20s me, dart in one had, steering wheel in the other making my around town listening to this through (almost) blown speakers. They also get bonus points for helping to propagate Maritime (via bassist Eric Axelson); one of the best bands to come of Milwaukee. I dug AOI: Bionix more than I thought I might, but old habits die hard. No changing things up for me; Change 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!

The Strokes vs. Ryan Adams

May 6, 2026May 15, 2026by KevinLeave a Comment

Two Music Nerds Revisit The Strokes’ Is This It—Does It Still Hit?

Good morning!

Today we’re taking a look at Is This It? as it faces off against Ryan Adams’ Gold.

In early fall 2024 Sam Colt and both took one look at Apple’s Best Records engagement bait and had, um, some “strong thoughts.”

We also decided that if we were gonna talk shit we should at least put our money where out months were. Distilled down, it was two avowed music nerds each making their case for a record, and the other one sharing their take. That itself was worth the price of admission, but we’re from different generations and grew up on opposite coasts. I wanted to see where our tastes would converge, and where they’d be miles apart.

The Tl; dr is each of us wound up hearing a ton of records for the first time. This was some real fish out of water type stuff for me, and I loved it.

Check ‘em out if you get some time. You can laud our great taste, or yell at us in the comments. Dealer’s choice!

At any rate, coming in as his #34 pick, Is This It was almost old enough to rent a car when I heard it for the first time. Fighting his corner, he said:

It’s hard to understand if you weren’t of age with Is This It dropped, but mainstream rock was pretty terminal with bands like Limp Bizkit and Linkin Park dominating the airwaves. The Strokes felt like someone stuck a hot dagger in your belly. I first heard “Someday” in middle school and was immediately hooked. The music has this swagger that very few bands even attempt to have and even fewer can pull off.

And my take:

2001: I decide to take what’s supposed to be a 4-month temporary assignment back in Portland. My (now) wife decides to give corporate life the finger and come with me. I cross the country for the 4th time in 3 years. This time, I have a cool copilot and a car with working heat/AC.

It’s spring, and the world is full of promise. That’ll all change in the fall, of course.

Looking back, the whole year was kinda upside down (for a whole host of reasons). Musically, in a year when even New Order released a record, my favorite was Kylie Minogue’s “Fever.”

That’s a lot of words to tell you that I was in a musical desert. I know who The Strokes were, but outside of “Last Nite,” I knew more about Al Hammond Sr.’s music (“It Never Rains In Southern California”) than I did about his son’s band. For some reason, The Strokes, Jet, and a handful of other bands blur into one for me. That’s more of an indictment of my listening habits that year than anything else. At any rate, I was expecting 11 tracks that all more or less sounded like “Last Nite.” It was not the first time this week that I was wrong about something. “Barely Legal” is a favorite, and as I type this, has been playing on & off for a couple of days now. This record didn’t rearrange my mind, but it’s a rock-solid, straight-ahead rock record. Sometimes that’s more than enough.

Flash forward to today: I don’t know that I’d consider this an all-timer, but it was 100% a pleasant surprise. I still listen to more Al Hammond Sr. more than his son’s, but Julian Casablanca’s’ 11th Dimension is one of my more played songs over the last 12-18 months. It’s exuberance is like catnip for me.

As for Ryan Adams? I unironically and unabashedly love “New York, New York” and his cover of T Swift’s “All You Had to do Was Stay” blows the original out of the water. But that’s where it begins and ends for me, and I think that’s all I’m gonna say for now. I’m sure the discourse will be discoursin’, with people sharing their own strong thoughts on Adams, separating art from the artists, etc.

P.S. My #34 pick? Ella Fitzgerald- Ella Sings the Duke Ellington Songbook

Bottom Line: Is this It? Yes. Sometimes that’s all you need. Bracket pick and vote will both be going to The Strokes.

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!

Joe Strummer & the Mescaleros vs. The Beta Band

May 5, 2026by KevinLeave a Comment

Best Record of 2001: Day 32

For a hot minute, I had a weird streak going: I’d make the drive from Portland to Seattle and tune into 107.7 The End as soon as it came in. And sure as shit, every time I did, I’d hear The Clash’s “Train in Vain.” They certainly made more tracks than that, and certainly made ones that are more resonant, but my point here (besides some musing about the universe working in mysterious ways) is that it was incredibly catchy and stuck with you long after you heard it. It felt like Mssr. Strummer, Jones, Headon, and Simonon could do no wrong. Then came the split, Cut the Crap, and the most important band in the world suddenly… wasn’t.

Flash forward a couple of years, and Strummer starts writing some songs and playing with the Mescaleros. There’s a record. Rock and the X-ray Style? Not his best work. To be fair, I think the world held him to a high- even if unfair- bar. And maybe this first one was needed to get his sea legs again.

Whatever, the second act would have to wait a bit.

So along comes Global a Go-Go, and it’s clear that Strummer has spent his time shaping the corners. This is an amorphous record that comes across like everyone brought some ideas to the garage just to see what might happen. Remember when you were a kid, and the fixins bar at Fuddruckers seemed like a dare? Yeah, like that. (Just me? Oh. Okay.)

At any rate, all of these elements make for what is often diplomatically called a ‘challenging listening.” It’s catchy in parts, and there are a few spots where I caught myself catching the groove, but it doesn’t have the cohesion of something like Train in Vain or Rock the Casbah. And that’s fine! At this point, the days of Combat Rock were firmly in the rearview mirror. At the same time, I can’t help but wonder if having someone keep him in check a little bit would’ve helped. I mean, an almost 18-minute track to wind things up? C’mon. Some sort of editorial guidance (for lack of a better term) could’ve elevated this from simply interesting to really good.

You know, the kind of thing you hope is playing when you turn your radio on.

While Strummer & the Mescaleros come across as serious musicians trying not to be taken seriously, The Beta Band seems just the opposite. Hot Shots II is also a sprawling, throw-everything-in-the-mixer kind of thing. But sometimes a soufflé collapses in on itself. Every time I thought, “Ah, here we go!” something would shift… or, worse, an annoying crackle or pop that set off my misophonia. Maybe I’d like this better if I still got high? I dunno…

Bottom Line: On Bluesky, someone posted that Strummer should win everything this week, and I’m all in on that. Global a Go-Go 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!

Superchunk vs. Lucinda Williams

May 1, 2026May 5, 2026by KevinLeave a Comment

Best Record of 2001: Day 30

Good morning!

Today we’re taking a look at Lucinda Williams’ Essence as it faces off against Superchunk’s Here’s to Shutting Up.

Note: As many of you saw, I recently wrote about a Best Record of 2001 challenge and noted that I’d be writing some of these up.

The plan is to do quick hits on each first-round matchup and post them directly to the page. Some will be longer, some won’t, and some might just be a handful of sentences. There’ll probably be a few typos. We’ll also have a few guest posts along the way, so make sure to stay tuned for those!

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

KA—

When I was a teenager, I was a holy terror behind the wheel. It was hammer down all the time from a kid who could barely see over the steering wheel. Tracks like Superchunk’s “Precision Auto” were the perfect soundtrack. Mac McCaughan had some shit to get off his chest, and I was there for it. Albums like ’93’s On the Mouth were the perfect record for where I was at the time.

Flash forward to 2001: I drive a Corolla, and while I’m not quite at the stage where I call out every sign I pass, it’s close. I’m only 26, but well on my way to becoming old before my time. Not being able to see very well doesn’t help.

Mac McCaughan, on the other hand, sees things perfectly. As he’s racked up the miles—er, years—his writing (and the band’s sound) has taken on a much more reflective tone. He’s still railing against a lot of the issues of the day, but there’s more perspective—the kind that can only be earned by the years (see also: Mould, Bob).

If you like mid-discography Superchunk, you’ll find plenty here to dig. What you see is what you get; no one’s trying to make a concept record. If you’re all in on the early stuff, you might find the edges a little too sanded off, but odds are good you’ve thought that for a while now. It’s easy to get consumed by (waves hands all around), and while fully checking out isn’t an option, trying to care less is sage advice.

I don’t know anyone who claims this as their favorite record by the band, but it’s got a lot of what’s helped them make it to elder statesman status, and with just the right blend of angry and sanguine, it was the right record for them to make at the time.

With Williams, I’m at a bit of a disadvantage here as the music I was listening to wasn’t her speed. Or rather, her music wasn’t mine. At this point in my life, I preferred louder, harder, faster, more from my stereo, whether that was in the form of a band like Bad Religion, or a high BPM count from (insert techno band here). My friend circle also had a total of zero fans of singer-songwriters. In other words, there was no one there to get a record like Essence on my radar, let alone make the case why I might like it (tbh, it likely would’ve been a few years too early, but I’d have come around). It’s also likely that whoever would’ve been making this hypothetical case would’ve been influenced by the record that came before it: Car Wheels on a Gravel Road. A record that has come to be almost required listening for anyone looking to pen a song or two.

Williams released that record in 1998 after scrapping multiple versions to hit a mix of country, rock, and blues. It (rightfully, IMO) earned her acclaim and it influenced generations of songwriters while defining the Americana genre. Essence is the follow-up, and was a radical departure from those expectations.

Essence is much more spare, plain-spoken, and down-tempo. After the high-profile success of her previous work, this record reads as a weird turn. The problem—or rather my problem—is that this is a gentle record made in an era where there wasn’t much space given to such things. Even though I wasn’t listening to singer-songwriter stuff in any meaningful capacity, I had carved out exceptions (see also: John Hiatt). The kicker was it had to have a little oomph. I wanted a track that sounded good while burning up the interstate, not one that evokes images of looking out the window thinking about things. I could see “Out of Touch” fitting the former, but I have to squint to do it.

In a broader sense, this fits in well with what singers like Sarah McLachlan were doing at the time. In other words, writing incredible songs only to set them to what was often lukewarm music.

If there’s any sort of miscarriage of justice here, it’s that Williams also writes incredibly well. It’s a rare talent that can squish an entire story into a verse or two. She was recently included on the NYT list of 30 Greatest Living American Songwriters, and whether you agree with the premise of these sorts of things, it’s hard to argue her warranting a place on there. Essence feels like an odd turn for someone who never really made them.

Bottom Line: I think Williams will carry the day with the voting crowd, and my bracket pick reflects that. However, my vote will likely go to our friends from North Carolina.

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

Fugazi vs. Ludacris: Going Out on Top vs. Selling Out for the C-Suite

April 30, 2026by KevinLeave a Comment

Best Record of 2001: Day 29

Good morning!

Today we’re taking a look at Fugazi’s The Argument and it faces off against Word of Mouf by Ludacris.

Note: As many of you saw, I recently wrote about a Best Record of 2001 challenge and noted that I’d be writing some of these up.

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

KA—

If ever there was a tale of two records, this is it. On the one hand, you have Fugazi. As I’ve noted before,

Some records change your life, but rarely does a band come along that changes the way you live. Fugazi did both. In an era when selling out was still a four-letter word, the band did what they did best: they lived their lives on their terms. They could make a compelling case for why you should be on their team, but if you weren’t, that was okay, too. It was a big tent, and their live-and-let-live mindset was a far cry from the straight-edge kids who had teased those threads to their extreme and spent shows looking for drinks to knock out of people’s hands.

Speaking of those shows, the band capped admission at $5 and insisted they be all-ages. I imagine that eventually paid off in the form of increased record sales, but they left a lot of money on the table then. Same with shying away from selling merch and staying on their homegrown Dischord label. Respect and street cred are all well and good, but they don’t pay the rent. But here’s the thing: that DIY ethic wasn’t just a gimmick for Fugazi; it was everything. When one of your songs has a chorus that screams, “You are not what you own,” selling t-shirts becomes a little tricky.

The band held themselves to a high ethical standard, and none of it would’ve mattered if the music wasn’t any good.

But about those records…

You should know that my favorite Fugazi record is whichever one I happen to be listening to when asked. There are highs and lows in any catalog, but in this case, it’s really all relative.

Some make you angry, some pump you up, and some lean more introspective. The Argument is one of the rare records that can survive that kind of whiplash. Fugazi’s sixth and (probably, but hopefully not) final album is hugely underrated, and it feels like the band finding a way to level up every part of their sound without losing the ingrained angst that made them so great in the first place.

Recorded at Inner Ear with Don Zientara and the band in early 2001, The Argument is a very different kind of Fugazi record than the post-hardcore they spent much of the ’90s perfecting. There’s no equivalent to “Break In” here. The distortion is dialed back, and there’s less screams (If that’s what you’re after, I have good news: “Full Disclosure” is right up your alley).

Want an oddly eerie/oddly infectious guitar line? “Life and Limb” has you covered. That doesn’t mean they softened or softened their take on the world around them. Every part of what made Fugazi special is still here: the off-kilter riffs, the dub-heavy rhythm section, the vocal interplay between MacKaye and Picciotto; really, the ability to splice together different genres and make the whole thing sound easy. Again, nothing new for the band at this point. But on The Argument, all of it sounds sharpened and more practiced.

“Epic Problem” is as explosive as anything on Margin Walker or 13 Songs, and is right in the overlap of the “Dissonant” and “Melodic” Venn diagram of their sound. How they do this, I have no idea; I just know it works. It’s all part of what makes them so addictive. Ditto “Strangelight,” which moves from a slightly disorienting rhythm toward a more sweeping one at the end.

“Oh,” might be the best example of how far Fugazi could stretch without breaking. As far as I know, it’s the only track where Ian, Guy, and Joe all sing (happy to stand corrected if I’m off here!), and they picked a track with some call-and-response drama. Those signs of evolution/progress are all over this album. Like they’re finally ready to try some things they know they couldn’t have pulled off earlier in their careers. And it all makes for one of–if not the- best Fugazi releases.

Look, like everyone else, I would have loved more Fugazi records, but if The Argument is the last we’ll see of ‘em, at least they did it right. I’d rather they went out riding high than with something half-baked just for a little cash. Who could fault ‘em for that?

Speaking of which…

At the other end of the spectrum, we have Ludacris. In real life, I work for a Fortune 100 company, and our CEO sees himself as much more hip than he actually is. You know the type: the guy that wears $1500 tailored suits but pairs ‘em with Vans. He also likes to trot out the fact that he was a roadie decades ago and shows up at SXSW. Which, I mean, Ok. The C-suite! They’re just like us! Sure, Jan. What it really leaves is an overpowering “how do you do, fellow kids” vibe.

We also have an annual celebration in Atlanta. This is really a corporate event disguised as a county fair, and, well, I bring all of this up to mention that Ludacris has played this sort of thing at least twice. “Sellout” used to be a four-letter word back in the day, but with time, age, and change, I’ve softened on that a little bit. But I have a hard time reconciling the idea that he’s singing and dancing for the same people who constantly apply downward pressure to my career.

Look, I have no issue with Luda getting the bag. If they’re paying, and he wants to play, so be it! But I don’t have to like it. He might have hoes in every area code, but you only need to go to one—the 404—to see how low he’ll go for a dollar.

Bottom Line: Fugazi. all day, every day.

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

Weezer’s Green Album Is a Safe, Solid Reset

April 29, 2026by KevinLeave a Comment

Best Record of 2001: Day 28

Cover art courtesy of Geffen Records

Good morning!

Today we’re taking a look at Weezer’s Green album as it takes on Melody A.M. by Röyksopp.

In my head, every Weezer fan is one of these two people. Reductive? Maybe. Accurate, probably.

At any rate…

At the risk of great bodily harm, here’s my tl;dr: Weezer didn’t follow up Pinkerton so much as they ran as fast as they could away from it. This was a good thing.

After the (at best) confused reaction to their 1996 album, Rivers Cuomo and co. went back to the drawing board and reeled things back. The Green Album plays like something of a reset button, a record built to avoid risk at all costs, and one meant to make you forget Pinkerton ever happened. No oversharing from Cuomo or blood-on-the-page type lyrics. No big swings, sound-wise. Instead, we got ten clean, efficient power pop songs that stick to the formula and rarely step outside it.

And for the most part, the plan works.

Clocking in at just under 30 minutes, the record is as streamlined as Weezer ever sounded. Crunchy mid-tempo riffs, stacked harmonies, and guitar solos that mirror the vocal melodies almost exactly. It is tight, polished, and an easy listen. You can hear the influences, too: bright 60s-style vocal hooks sitting atop thicker, fuzzed-out 70s guitar tones. Again, this is the band’s stock in trade, but they’re talented enough that it never feels derivative.

The album peaks early. “Hash Pipe,” “Island in the Sun,” and “Crab” are one of the best three-song runs in the band’s catalog. “Hash Pipe” brings a thick, sleazy riff with just enough bite to give the record some edge. “Island in the Sun” is the opposite; loose, warm, and about as effortlessly catchy as anything they have written. IOW, it’s a weapons-grade earworm. It was in ’01, and it still is in ’26, at least for me, anyway. “Crab” keeps things moving without losing momentum, sticking to the same structure and sticking the landing. I was too lazy to look, but if that was a single, I’m surprised it didn’t fare better. If it wasn’t, I’d be curious to know why.

Either way, that stretch does a lot of the heavy lifting here.

From there, the album settles in, and, well, kinda settles. Nothing falls apart, but not much pushes forward either. Cuomo had traded that raw, uncomfortable writing of Pinkerton for lighter, more surface-level lyrics. Again, that makes for an easy listen, a pleasant one, even. But it also opens the door to monotony, which the back side of the record comes perilously close to. If this is your thing, it’s a bunch of what you love. If it’s not, it can all feel like one big amorphous blob. The band deserves kudos for that consistency, but it comes with a cost. The songs start to blur together, built from the same pieces and delivered in the same way.

Still, I have to think that was the point.

The Green Album is Weezer playing it safe and doing it with discipline. Every choice feels controlled, from the short runtime to the repeated song structures. It makes for a smooth, no-frills listen that never overstays its welcome. You can throw it on, let it run, and not think too hard about it. If this had gotten stuck in my car’s CD player, it wouldn’t have been the end of the world.

If viewed as a comeback record, it does the job. This course correction set Weezer back on track for the next several releases. The highs hit, and even the lows never drag things down. The whole thing moves quickly. Sure, the whole record leans heavily on those three standout tracks rather than the full tracklist, but that trio is strong enough to keep it in rotation.

This is not Weezer at their most ambitious or creative, and in the end, that was the right move. It is Weezer keeping things simple, keeping things clean, and getting back on track.

Bottom Line: Weezer’s up against Röyksopp’s Melody A.M., a pleasant enough record. There were parts that screamed “sync music” to me, but also some total delights like “Eple.” In the end, I can’t see it coming out on top here, but that’s down more to an unfair seeding/match up than anything else. Given a lower ranked/lesser-regarded opponent, it’s easy to see a scenario where this sails through. There’ll be some less deserving records that go through to round 2

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