Tag: rock

Grebo vs. Folk? 1989 Truly Had Something For Everyone

by KevinLeave a Comment on Grebo vs. Folk? 1989 Truly Had Something For Everyone

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

Good morning!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nevertheless.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Check out the full bracket here.

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

As always, thanks for being here.

KA—

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

by KevinLeave a Comment on The The’s Mind Bomb and the Record Matt Johnson Should’ve Made

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

Good morning!

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

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

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—

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

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

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

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

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

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

Some bands evolve. Pop Will Eat Itself detonated.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Check out the full bracket here.

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

As always, thanks for being here.

KA—

Discussion: What’re You Listening To?

by KevinLeave a Comment on Discussion: What’re You Listening To?

Good morning! Need an antidote for the algorithms? Looking for a place to share the music you love with like-minded people? You’re in the right spot.

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

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

I want more music!

On to the music:

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

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

Now it’s your turn.

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

Whatcha got? Share your thoughts in the comments!

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

by KevinLeave a Comment on FTA: A Quick Look At The B52s’ ‘Cosmic Thing’ Album

Hurry up and bring your jukebox money!

Good Morning!

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

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

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

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

The B52s’ Fred Schneider

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

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

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

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

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

Kate Pierson

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was ‘Love Shack.’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Effie, Madge, and Mabel would approve.

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What are your thoughts on this record? Do you have any favorite tracks or memories associated with it? Where does it land on your list of albums by The B52s? Share your thoughts in the comments!

Thanks for being here,

Kevin—

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

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

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

Good morning!

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

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

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—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Check out the full bracket here.

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

As always, thanks for being here.

A Punk Icon and Industrial Band Walk Into a Bar…

by KevinLeave a Comment on A Punk Icon and Industrial Band Walk Into a Bar…

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

Good morning!

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

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

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—

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

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

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

Artists are allowed to pivot, are they not?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Check out the full bracket here.

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

As always, thanks for being here.

KA—

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

by KevinLeave a Comment on Are The Stone Roses the Most Overrated Band in This Tournament?

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

Good morning!

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

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

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

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

KA—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Check out the full bracket here.

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

As always, thanks for being here.

KA—

The Best Record of 1989: Day 40

by KevinLeave a Comment on The Best Record of 1989: Day 40

#47 Kristy MacColl, Kite vs. #82 Gang Starr, No More Mr. Nice Guy

Good morning!

Today we’re taking a look at records from Kristy MacColl and Gang Starr.

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.

In case you missed any from earlier this week:

Day 36: #34 Bonnie Raitt, Nick of Time vs. #95 The Field Mice, Snowball

Day 37: #15 Madonna, Like a Prayer vs. #114 Peter Murphy, Deep

Day 38: #50 Lyle Lovett, Lyle Lovett and his Large Band vs. EPMD, Unfinished Business

Day 39: #18 Kate Bush, The Sensual World vs. #111 The Wonder Stuff, Hup

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

KA—

I first found Kristy MacColl, as I suspect many others have, through the “Fairytales of New York” song she did with The Pogues. Today, it seems the consensus pick for favorite Christmas song among hipsters. It’s one of those songs that’s somehow everyone’s favorite, that you’re just expected to like. I find it interminable. And for a long time, I used that as an excuse not to delve any further into her work. Silly me.

Other than that, all I really knew was that she did “They Don’t Know,” a lovely bit of sugary pop that was covered by Tracey Ullman. This is a small bit of trivia that has yet to come in handy. And did you know Tracey Ullman had her own show that featured recurring interstitial animation skits about a family named The Simpsons? I’m incredibly fun at parties and Bar Mitzvahs.

Back to Kite: MacColl was the daughter of folk singer Ewan MacColl, who, by most accounts, sounds like an asshole and may be why she steered her own career toward a poppier sound. Refusing to be pigeonhole (or molded) into whatever label execs thought a pop star should be, her career floundered a bit. She found a niche performing on other people’s records (see above) while still chugging along in her own career. Kite is her sophomore outing, released 8 years after 1981’s Desperate Characters (see above again). I should tell you now that I brought every preconceived notion I had to the party. I was expecting a record that alternated between dirges and folk songs.

And holy shit was I wrong! Sure, there are strains of folk here and there, but this record is …dare I say, jaunty? Opener “Innocence” was a delight and will be on a few playlists going forward. “Mother’s Ruin” slows the tempo, but is in no way a downer. There’s a Kinks cover (“Days”)!

Maybe more importantly, while it does concede that she’s good at singing other people’s work, often at the expense of her own, it also gives her a chance to showcase her own chops. MacColl can, in fact, write a helluva song.

There’s some overproduction here and there—then husband Steve Lillywhite was behind the boards, and I wonder if he was aiming to make this as accessible as possible (i.e., hoping to help his wife find commercial success). Not every edge has to always be sanded off, you know, but after a listen or two, I’ve decided that’s a feature, not a bug. I’m obviously late to the party, but Kite has proven to be a nice surprise.

Ask five people to name their favorite Gang Starr record, and you’ll get six opinions. Odds are also good that No More Mr. Nice Guy won’t be one of ‘em. It’s not that it’s a bad record, it’s that the others are soooo good. Dj Premier and Guru have rightfully earned a spot in any GOAT discussion, but in 1989, they still weren’t on the map. 

If nothing else, this record feels ”new,” like everyone‘s still new to the game and each other. They’re all feeling each other out and finding their levels. There’s a lot of first-day energy here, right down to the lyrics that feel kinda boilerplate.

Mark the 45 King is here, and his signature sound colors a couple of tracks. On the one hand, that‘s a good thing. On the other hand, it immediately took my mind to all the different tracks he was on at the time. Gang Starr’s unique style is what made them what they are. That’ll come in time, but it isn’t fully formed here.

I’m mindful that retroactively comparing this to their later records isn’t fair. Again, this is a solid record, especially for 1989—it’s just not on the level of what was to come.

Track picks: “Gotch U,” “2 Steps Ahead”

My vote: At the risk of undercutting literally every point I made above, my vote goes to Gang Starr. RIP Guru.

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 brackethere.

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

As always, thanks for being here.

KA—

The Best Record of 1989: Day 39

by KevinLeave a Comment on The Best Record of 1989: Day 39

#18 Kate Bush, The Sensual World vs. #111 The Wonder Stuff, Hup

Good morning!

Today we’re taking a look at records from Kate Bush and The Wonder Stuff

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—

Oh, to be one of the people who first found Kate Bush through Stranger Things! I love that (seemingly) an entire generation was exposed to “Running Up That Hill.” That’s tempered somewhat by my fear that it’s as far as they went. As good as it is, even “just” checking out Hounds of Love leaves a lot on the table.

Talking about that album in our Top 100 series last year, I noted:

What can I say about this record? I love that so many people have found it thanks to Stranger Things (at least, I hope they’ve gone past “Running Up That Hill”). It is an exquisite take on love, life, heartache, and death; it’s a synth record. It’s theater in the round. It’s an album with millions and millions of listens, and it feels like it was made for you and you alone. It’s got a song for the dance floor (“Running Up That Hill”), one for a quiet morning (“The Morning Fog”), and everything in between. Hounds of Love is anthemic. “The Big Sky” is over the top and as ostentatious as anything else you’ll see in this series. And I’m here for all of it.

I stand by all of that. The record is a must listen, and (IMO) should have a spot in any record collection. It’s Kate’s Pet Sounds, and in the same way that the Beach Boys were judged on everything that came after their landmark record, so too was Bush. Hounds of Love has a long shadow, and it’s easy to see why later work got lost in it.

The stylings on The Sensual World don’t exactly help. Hounds of Love is bold, anthemic pop. Its lyrics are full of dreams. Every track feels like an entire Broadway show packed into 4-5 minutes.

In other words, it’s everything The Sensual World is not. Don’t get tit Twitsed; I love this record, but it’s easy to see why someone whose onramp was the over-the-top pomp of, say, “The Big Sky” might feel put off by this record’s slower, romantic sounds. Artists have to be willing to pivot, and this feels like a record made by someone coming into their own, and less like a record sculpted by outside influences. There’s less spectacle and more intimacy (in every sense of the word). One needs only listen to the opening title track to see that.

If Hounds of Love is Bush breaking free of the cocoon, The Sensual World is her fully free and flying under her own power. This record has an elegance that we’d previously only seen sparks of. Depending on your preferences, the songs are either elegiac or affirming, and usually a bit of both. Songs like “Running Up That Hill” are a protest of male power, while this record is a celebration of female agency.

I don’t have a title in mind for “best record that came out after Pet Sounds that you should definitely listen to,” but if all you know of Bush is Hounds of Love, your next stop should be The Sensual World.

Around 1989, something strange happened. It felt like every band decided to pivot to a much more psychedelic sound—the Charlatans, Inspiral Carpets, you name it. The Wonder Stuff were no exception.

Hup, their follow-up to The Eight Legged Groove Machine, is full of swirling guitars and sounds that resemble those of other bands. If left out too long, everything blends into one blob, and the tracks become indistinct.

Luckily, the band takes care to avoid that here. While predecessor LP was sharp, quick, and to the point, Hup takes a longer route. To be clear, these are pop songs, but there’s more to them on this record. Also: Banjos and fiddles. Those aren’t usually found on an expressway.

If you‘re looking for a track with some oomph, “Them Big Oak Trees” has got you covered. It’s the standout track on the record. “Good Night Though” is a gut punch with its verse of

“Don’t play that awful song, she said
‘cause then we’ll know that the party has gone on too long.”
I said, “This stairway ain’t to heaven
This one’s to oblivion”

If anything, that should be the record’s closer and not at the halfway mark. I’m sure there’s some reason for sequencing it where they did, but I can’t see it. Makes the rest of the record feel like it was almost an after though— and it; ‘s anything but. “Gimme Some Truth” is another track worth double-clicking on.

If there’s a knock on the record, it comes in comparison to follow-up “Never Loved Elvis.” The latter is blatantly poppy and varied. You could make the argument that Hup is exactly what I described above- monotonous, similar from front to back. I’d instead argue that it ‘s focused. They knew the sound they wanted to make, went itno the studio, and came back out with exactly that.

Hup is the record that planted the band’s flag here in the States. The next LP would bring a modicum of fame, with the sublime “Caught in My Shadow” seeing some rotation on MTV and airplay. There are a handful of songs here that easily could’ve made their mark on listeners. Shame they never did. I’m guilty of using the term “underrated” like a comma when summing up records, but in this case, it fits.

My vote: Hup’s a good record, but The Sensual World is a great one. Kate Bush for the win.

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

Check out the full bracket here.

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

As always, thanks for being here.

KA—

The Best Record of 1989: Day 38

by KevinLeave a Comment on The Best Record of 1989: Day 38

#50 Lyle Lovett, Lyle Lovett and his Large Band vs. EPMD, Unfinished Business

Good morning!

Today we’re taking a look at records from EPMD and Lyle Lovett

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

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

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

KA—

If EPMD’s 1988 debut, Strictly Business, put the duo on the map, its follow-up, Unfinished Business, cemented their spot. The record is an incredible sophomore outing. Hip-hop back in the day had more weight: chunkier beats, rugged samples, and more bounce to the ounce (sorry, not sorry). The beats came out of the trunk like a left hook, except this was one you didn’t want to duck for.

That’s not to say that the duo of Erick Sermon and Parrish Smith don’t have flow- the pair has bars for days. But they lay down that flow over some industrial-grade beats. There’s fewer moving parts. Less is more. Things pop off with “So Wat Cha Sayin'” a bruising 5 minutes of funk with the infectious sampling of BT Express’ “If It Don’t Turn You On (You Oughta Leave it Alone), layered over some drums from Soul II Soul of all people. Knick Knack Paddy Whack has a sample you’ll likely recognize. Try and see. Those samples and scratches are courtesy of George “DJ Scratch” Spivey, and his work on the 1s and 2s should not be overlooked here.

That flow might be their superpower. The two play off one another like two friends on a patio or sitting at a picnic table on their work break. They’re puttin’ in work, but it never feels labored (FWIW, I think P is better technically, while E has better flow per se.).

That’s not to say Unfinished Business is a no-skip record—you can feel confident in skipping “It’s Time 2 Party” and “You Had Too Much to Drink—but the good far outweighs the bad. Sermon and Smith are all business, and on this record, business was good.

I’ve never quite been able to read Lyle Lovett. Is he country? Something else? And how exactly did he and Julia Roberts wind up together? Lucky him.

That he’s never quite ascended to A-list stardom means that most audiences (and A&R reps and programming directors) were also stumped. But for those that get it, his records are a treat.

I hadn’t heard this one before, and if I’m honest, I wasn’t ready for the bluesy/jazzy/band-y flavor here. It’s good, just not what I thought would be on order. On brand for the man, I suppose. For example, I did not have “Here I Am” with its monologue in the middle on my bingo card. Nor was there a spot for a straight-faced cover of Tammy Wynette’s ” Stand by Your Man.” Yet here we are.

This record is light years from what I was playing in ’89, but listening now, it’s pleasant (not derogatory). I can easily see myself giving this a spin over brunch or on one of those rare days when I get to lie on the couch with Gizmo and stare out the window. It feels like Lovett came to terms with not being a “star,” embraced it, and made the record he wanted to make. Lucky us.

My vote: My heart (vote) says EPMD. My head (bracket pick) has me sayin’ Lyle Lovett.

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—