Forgotten Favorite

Some late evening some time ago, I received a text message from Mindy (whose excellent blogs can be found here and here) challenging me out of the blue to write a story about making a mix tape/cd for person one had never met. We have had a few discussions prior regarding the sometimes agonizing process of making mixes for people we already know all too well. The idea of making one for a person one would know very little about would be torturous. I thought this was a great idea, so her idea sat in the back of my thoughts for several days with no solid story line popping into my head. Then one day soon after, I received an email with her very raw and emotional story using this theme (please read it here!) and I knew I had to get my act together. Here are the so-so results:

Chuck had been at his new job for a week, but had already found himself hopelessly infatuated with a co-worker. As far as he could tell, she worked in the accounting department, but this was a big place and he hadn’t quite figured out where everything was. He was not used to the size of everything. He came from a small town and had grown up working at a mom and pop shop through high school and during his summers of his college years. Now, he found himself alone in a new city in the shipping and receiving department of a company that occupied the entirety of a business park in the suburbs.

Chuck was quiet and insular, so he didn’t make friends easily. The friends he had earned were close and lifelong, but he had been looking to branch out and get away from the environment he had grown up in. Going to college was a huge step, but he still relied on his parents and his old friends too much. He needed to find his own way. This way began here with this job and his first studio apartment. He liked the group of guys he found himself working with at this place so far, but he hadn’t reached a level of trust with any of them yet to feel comfortable about inquiring about the hot girl on the second floor.

What enticed him most about this woman he was lucky enough to see around two or three times a day, as he made his rounds through the offices to grab packages to be shipped out, was that she reminded him of the women who sang on some of his favorite indie records.

Chuck was a music enthusiast. At that time, “alternative” music was setting the world on fire, which was something he had often hoped for during his formative teenage years. He would wonder why his punk and post-punk bands didn’t get the exposure they deserved. To his ears, there wasn’t anything not to like about this music. Instead, in school, he had been labeled as the guy who listened to “fag” music, while most everyone else had love affairs with bands like Bon Jovi, Poison, and Def Leppard. Yet, now that music inspired by his genres of rock had climbed into the mainstream, all he could feel was mild disdain. This stuff wasn’t as good as his icons, nor was this music forward thinking. Instead his realm of music had flown further off the charts into the most minute scale, so much so, that he had to buy (and buy he did) nearly all of it via mail order directly from bands and small labels. His collection had become almost entirely stocked with limited edition, colored vinyl 45s that would arrive in his mailbox with handwritten notes from the artists themselves. Still, he would wonder to himself: why aren’t these bands getting more exposure?

Over the years, his efforts to extend exposure for this music he was so passionate about, generally involved making mix tapes for his friends. Almost always, they were thoughtless compilations of all the brand new stuff that had him watering at the mouth. A few times though, he had stressed over a mix that he hoped would open doors for him with some particular girl who he was attracted to. Those were painful exercises, as he would fret over what songs would convey his interest for the girl without going too far and becoming creepy. This always proved more difficult then it would seem on the surface, because in these instances, he would realize that his taste in music seemed to always coincide with lyrics of severe longing, loneliness and depression. Not exactly the “hey, here are some fun songs, I kinda like you” vibe he strove for, then again, small town, Bon Jovi, etc. Those girls probably didn’t listen to lyrics anyway, since they seemed to enjoy their music with a heaping dosage of spandex, teased hair and keyboard enhanced power riffs. In other words, these tapes were fruitless and would become a part of his long lonely drives through town late at night, as he hoped to run into someone else who might be out and about in the dead town with nothing to do and nowhere to go.

Now Chuck was in the city – a place where there were good bands to see nearly every night and multitudes of people who shared his interests, and though he didn’t know the woman from accounting, he believed that she was a kindred spirit. In his short time at this company, she’d always shown up to work with a different hairstyle. Her hair was short and a little butch, but she was very feminine. One day she arrived at work in a black leather jacket, a short black dress and tattered fishnets. Another day, she wore an oversized white T-shirt with a big black question mark adorning the front. She always wore lots of brightly colored bracelets and skull earrings. She didn’t dress like anyone else there and she clearly didn’t care that she wasn’t following the ‘business casual’ dress code regulation he remembered reading in the employee handbook.
That particular morning, the first chilly one of the fall, he saw her arrive to work, while he was standing at the front truck dock stacking a bunch of boxes onto a pallet. She was wearing striking make-up around her eyes and what looked like a vintage bomber jacket with its fur lined hood framing her stunning features. It was at this moment that he’d decided to find a way to get to know her. He would try and say something to her as he passed by her cubicle, while pushing his orange squeaky cart through the office. If she wasn’t around, he’d keep making casual passes until she returned for as long as he could stall without being noticed by anyone else.

His heart raced as he approached her domain, which she shared with two other older women. He could tell that she was at her desk, because he had already become attuned to the magical scent that would linger whenever she passed nearby. His routine up to that point had always been to approach everyone’s cubicle, check each person’s outbox and transfer whatever was ready to his cart and move on wordlessly. The only evidence of his presence was the shrieking wheels of his cart that would howl obnoxiously in the hushed environs of the office. This time, he was announcing his arrival and talking to everyone, in order to build up some courage to talk to the hot accountant.

“Good morning,” Chuck declared to the three women, all sitting with their backs to each other, working silently on their PCs. “Do you have your packages ready?” he continued.

“No, Chuck, but you’ll be back by later for a final run, right?” asked this new woman of his dreams, as she leaned her chin against her upraised hand and smiled at him.

“Oh, sure, of course,” he agreed, not sure how to respond, “I was just checking. Thanks!” he shouted a little too loudly. She knew his name! “I’ll see you later!” he added with enthusiasm as he shoved his whining cart away with a huge grin on his face. It was then that he knew he had to make her a mix tape.

That evening Chuck eschewed trying to make himself a meal, in favor of focusing on creating the perfect mix tape for this new woman in his life. This was a big one; the tape he had been practicing for all along. He didn’t know much about this person, other than where she worked and a small sampling of her fashion sense. He hadn’t learned her name. He began to doubt his earlier resolve that doing this was a good idea. He played some scenarios through his mind about how his encounter might go the next day. He could ask her if she liked music. And she could respond sarcastically and make him feel small. He decided to scratch his pessimistic mindset and simply make the mix. He had already pulled about 100 selections of amazing songs for the 90 minute limit. The records and CDs were strewn all over his small studio apartment in small groups. The songs were matched to each other based on how they would sound together and on a macro scale were organized in a way to make the tape flow from light upbeat and catchy pop songs to more meaningful and powerful songs. He imagined her listening to the tape over and over again, always thinking of him.

He was up all night testing songs against each other and debating internally over which songs would make the cut in order to make the subtle message he was attempting to express. He was excited by how easily it all came together. Still he found himself tossing and turning for the few hours he had left before having to get ready for work in a state of worry about some of the lyrics. Plus those scenarios about how to give this tape to her out of the blue plagued his thoughts. Who makes mix tapes for people they don’t know? He kept thinking to himself. He could’ve simply asked her out, but this step had always proved too difficult for him. He had been down that road a few times and it always led to instant rejection. If only the music that he loved so much could do his talking for him. It would do so much more elegantly.

He was startled awake by his beeping alarm clock with a sound so terrible that he had always awoken before its repeated screeches in order to avoid its harsh reminder. He pounded the off switch with the back of his fist, took a deep breath with his face smashed into his pillow, and then pushed himself out of bed. He showered, put on some cologne that he had never touched, chose his lucky shirt – the only shirt that anyone had ever complimented – and snagged the new tape on his way to the bus stop. He flipped the tape case over and over in his hand nervously. He had titled it: “Forgotten Favorite” after the Velocity Girl song. He went through the list of songs he had so carefully written down on the J-card in alternating black and blue ink. He played bits of the songs through his mind as he examined the song titles. It sounded really solid to him, which built his always sagging confidence.

It was all he could do to wait till his first go round through the office at 10 am. He hadn’t seen her arrive that morning, so he feared that she would not be there and his resolve would fade. At the same time, he could feel a small part of him hoping that she would not be there, so he could take a breath. It was a Friday morning, and if she hadn’t been there, he’d have been stuck with this heavy anticipation and self-doubt the entire weekend. At least if he had made his odd move and if it all went down in flames, he’d have the satisfaction of having made the effort. It was little consolation in the face of another failure that he would no doubt stew on.

As his cart squawked his arrival through the office, he finally approached the big cubicle. He could hear her voice over the grinding wheels of his reject cart and his heart stopped beating. He felt light-headed, like he might pass out. He grabbed a couple of envelopes from the basket, peered slowly into the doorway of the cubicle and warbled an unsteady ‘good morning.’ It was at the moment that he realized that he hadn’t said a word to anyone since he’d left work the prior evening, so his throat was not ready for use.

“Hey! Good morning Chuck,” she responded with a bright smile. He loved how friendly and genuine she presented herself.

“Do you like music?” he asked with zero transition.

“Sure! Love it! Who doesn’t? Why do you ask?”

This would’ve been an opportune time for Chuck to invite her to a show, but his mind went blank as to what was coming up, despite having looked at the city’s culture weekly paper not ten minutes before in search of weekend shows to attend. Plus, this new strategy was way off script.

“I-I was listening to this old mix tape I made on the way to work this morning, and I thought that maybe you’d – maybe – want to check it out.” He held it out toward her and she reignited her smile, more likely from his rambling suggestion, as opposed to the gift he was offering.

She took the case and examined it for a moment, turned it over and looked at the song listing and told him that she really liked his handwriting.

This was not what Chuck had been hoping to hear, but it wasn’t as bad as what he thought would happen. He nodded a thank you as she offered the tape back to him.

“Thank you, that’s really sweet of you, but I don’t have a cassette player,” she apologized, as their hands met for a second during the exchange. A shock went through his body.

“Oh, okay. That’s cool,” he barely managed, before abruptly turning his cart away from her desk towards his next destination. He wasn’t sure what had just happened, and there didn’t seem to be any songs in his collection that would help him at that point.

Love and other Demons

When I first bought UK band Strangelove’s debut album Time for the Rest of Your Life in the spring of 1994, I found it to be an endlessly long, overdramatic, bombastic collection of songs that I listened to constantly. Patrick Duff’s vocals are so overblown that it could easily be a deal breaker. He seems to do his best at channeling the special vocalizations of William Shatner (which were making a comeback during that time, come to think of it, as his Transformed Man had been released on CD for the first time on a hip indie label) if he could actually sing. Okay, maybe his vocals reminded more of Shatner’s nuanced acting. Whatever the case, it was a bit much, but somehow worked. Whenever I hear the piano ballad “Low-Life” on that album, I imagine a packed Wembley Stadium (or whatever) swaying together, with lighters held aloft and burning bright, all chanting along while choking back their burgeoning emotions. Really, it was sickening then, and still is now, yet, I found myself listening to that album a lot during 1994. I first learned of the band in 1993, when I was a subscriber to the Rough Trade singles club. I sure miss those old singles clubs. I was a long-time subscriber to the Sub Pop and Rough Trade clubs as well as the unbelievably cool Archive Series on Independent Project Records. Anyway, the 7” A-Side was named “Zoo’d Out” and I pretty much ignored it. The song somehow stuck with me enough that I took a chance on their debut CD at an extreme import price, when I happened upon it at Ozone Records nearly a year later (none of their records were released in the US). In the long run, it’s always been Strangelove’s second (of three) long player that has been the go to selection when I decide I need an injection of their overdriven melodrama, so out comes the appropriately titled Love and Other Demons.




The first of the material I heard after the debut arrived in 1996, when I ran across the double CD single “Beautiful Alone.” Before I go on about this fantastic three minute pop-nugget, I must complain about that era of “double singles.” These things were the curse of collector obsessive’s like me. Labels took advantage of us by releasing an artist’s non-LP B-sides across two separately sold CD singles, forcing us to buy two copies of the same single. This act supposedly boosted the chart status and sales of a single and it got out of control in the mid-90s, when some singles were released with separate non-LP B-sides across every format (2 CDs, 10” & 7” vinyl, etc). It was truly an evil practice. Anyway, where was I? Oh right, “Beautiful Alone” is pop music at its lush finest. It’s more upbeat, to the point, and downright catchy than anything on their debut. A soft string arrangement and an acoustic strum are carried along by a driving bass surge, chiming guitar fills and perfectly timed cymbal crashes. During the summer of 1996, ask anyone, I could not get enough of this addictive piece of narcotic bliss. I remember driving around with Wil, Liz and Midori one cloudy Saturday afternoon in Vancouver of all places listening to this song over and over on our way to a small party at a stranger’s home. The warm glow of the song forced me to buy a used and cheap silk shirt for the occasion and was a perfect soundtrack to a fun day and evening.

After hearing this song a million times, the album became a much sought after item, despite yet again having to delve into the realm of high import prices and unreliability of sources to track this stuff down. In this case, I turned to the Bay Area music shop Mod Lang. I phoned them up, asked if they had it in stock and then promptly placed my order. I cannot reiterate enough how much work went into finding my music of choice back then! Again, the effort was worth it, as this album became one of my favorites of that year. Strangelove had trimmed back the fat of their debut considerably, but not enough to lose the flavor. The opening song (and eventually the third single) “Living with the Human Machines” kicks things off with their most aggressive and explosive track. Its pounding beat and siren guitars urge on the still over the top vocals of Patrick Duff. The upfront message of this song is like a slap in the face - a warning to wake up and notice the isolated direction that our society is heading. “20th Century Cold” (back then I never thought about living in the 21st century) continues this theme with some sharp lyrics: “I see myself reflected in the television screen / somewhere far away / I can hear myself scream.” Even better is the angry, lullaby-like “Spiders and Flies,” which asks us to “meet the new world nobody can find.” The world wide web never sounded so ominous as it does throughout this album (“it’s a spider’s web just above your head”), which makes it even more interesting to listen to today, because much of its message is still relevant today. The closest they come to love songs are the ones completely based from a perspective of loneliness. “She’s Everywhere” encapsulates brilliantly the longing for a lost loved one. Similarly, in “Elin’s Photograph,” the narrator’s thoughts are dominated by a picture, much like The Cure’s “Pictures of You” (“take away this photograph so I can live again”). Meanwhile, the string-laced ballad “Sway,” is resigned to simply give everything up and drink life away. Lastly, the epic closer, “The Sea of Black,” truly spells out a finale for the character we’ve followed through this sad paranoid journey (“hear no voice / see no smile / feel no love / by my side”). This is a touching, thoughtful and emotional rollercoaster of an album filled with hummable melodies with enough of an edge to drive its meaning straight down one’s throat. Oh, and yes, it’s way out of control. It predates the big Radiohead landmark OK Computer by a year with its very direct message of isolation by way of technology and it is a sprawling mess that seemed to go underappreciated at the time. Strangelove seemed to get lost behind the big battle for dominance between Oasis, Blur and Suede at that time, but of those bands, they are the one I still listen to every so often.

Lacquer

Since doing the too epic Top 40 albums of 2011 blog entries, I have found myself in a reflective mood about all the music I have sitting around in my home.  That top album list marked the 25^th year that I have put something together ranking my favorites of a particular year.  It all started at the end of 1986, when as a high school sophomore I photocopied a blank top 10 sheet and handed them out to a bunch of friends and compiled everyone’s favorites.  I don’t know why, or how I managed to deal with Matt’s 6 way ties for #1, or even what I thought about Neil Diamond’s Hot August Night II always appearing in the Top 10, or why Jeff always puts Siouxsie’s Tinderbox as his #1 choice no matter what the year.  Whatever the case, it was always fun to see what people were listening to.  Of course, I always did mine, and though I stopped the poll decades ago, I have continued to create a list of some sort every single year.  All this music over all this time and yet I find that I generally look forward and focus mainly on what’s next, while hundreds upon hundreds of records and CDs sit collecting dust on my shelves.  What was I listening to 25 years ago?  My #1 pick that year was Depeche Mode’s Black Celebration – beating out The Smiths’ The Queen is Dead, The The’s Infected, Pet Shop Boys’ Please and New Order’s Brotherhood.  As my horizons have expanded since being 15 years old, and my knowledge of music has increased, I still have a fondness for all of these albums and have been heard to say that side one of Brotherhood may be my favorite side of all time.  I say that kind of thing a lot about a lot of different albums.  None of these statements are true and yet all of them are true.  There’s just too much to love and not nearly enough time to take it all in.  Beginning here I thought I’d occasionally post a little tribute to some of these albums from the past that have meant a lot to me over the years and encourage anyone reading to share your thoughts about some of your eternal favorites, long lost loves, or forgotten moments in time.

Recently, while scanning through my CDs I started to think about Popsicle.  Popsicle were a Swedish pop band that I often credit with pulling me out of a deep dark time and pushing me towards the most insane, chaotic and adventurous year of my life.  I’ve found myself in a bit of a funk as this year has gotten started, and thought that listening to Lacquer, Popsicle’s debut album, might have a similar effect to the very first time I threw their CD into my player.  I’m trying to remember how I first learned of this band.  It was the fall of 1993 and I read about them initially via CMJ Weekly’s (College Music Journal) import section, I believe, where the writer compared the band to Ride and My Bloody Valentine who were two of my favorite bands of that time.  Soon after I happened upon a three song CD single named “Hey Princess” at the much missed Ozone Records across Burnside from Powell’s (oh, I could go on and on about this magical store – a merging between the legendary and designed exactly to my tastes Ooze Records and the fledging straightforward Outer Limits shop), and oh my, it was even better then I could’ve imagined!  The rush of the quickly building “Hey Princess” bled into a blasting “Blow Up” and closed with another adrenaline rush of the three minute “Never Know,” which repeats the resigned line “every thing must die” sung with desperate finality.  I played this thing over and over for weeks and knew that I had to find their album.  Ozone, back then, always had an amazing assortment of new import CD EP’s in stock, which were the release of choice at the time for so many of my favorite artists at the time, but they didn’t always carry the full length albums, and this Swedish import proved to be difficult to find.  Eventually, I wrote a letter to the label Snap Records inquiring about mail order.  After a few months I received a slick sheet with all of their releases, and there it was: Popsicle - Lacquer, and surprise surprise a CD from Easy named Sun Years!  Easy had one of my favorite albums of 1991 with their shining Magic Seed.  This was before the internet and the cloud and the ease of finding music just by pressing a few buttons on a keypad.  Next up was a trip to the bank to obtain an international money order for the proper amount, which seemed to always involve multiple tellers and a lot of effort as a long line of people would angrily shuffle around behind me.  Then, after mailing the package, the waiting and anticipation would begin. 

It’s amazing to think of how difficult all of this all was back then.  I read about a band that sounded like one I might like and SEVERAL months later, after consistent effort, I finally had their CD in my hands!  I will never forget it either.  It was the spring of 1994 by then (Lacquer was actually released in Sweden in 1992) and I was in seriously dark doldrums.  In my car I had a 120 minute cassette that had been playing for months that consisted of Labradford’s Prazision LP on one side and The Ecstasy of Saint Theresa’s Free-D Soundtrack on the other.  If anyone reading this knows these albums, they will know that neither album would fit onto a 60 minute side, and that there’s not a lot of joy involved.  The choices were either an endless, tuneless drone or nature sounds on top of a different drone.  No one who rode in my car wanted to hear it, and by the time they would be free of my car, they would feel as bad as I did.  It was either that, or hearing Boston and their spaceship rock the world on every Portland radio station.  Anyway, the day after my new Popsicle and Easy CDs arrived in the mail; I listened to them both and felt a surge of life spark through me.  I recorded these two albums onto a new tape for the car.  But it was the next day, when the first sign of spring time appeared with a glare of sun through my blinds and I decided to call in to work and tell them I needed the day off.  For the first time in eons I felt inspired and energized and I wanted to live life again! 

As I listen to Lacquer right now, I am amazed at how much fire they packed into their performances.  The comparison to Ride and My Bloody Valentine are apt, though they lean more on the early Ride pop rushes a la “Like a Daydream” or “Taste.”  Twelve of these 13 songs are filled with layers and layers of shimmering and shredding guitar work and busy as can be drumming.  Yet, even though these in-the-red guitars are pushed so far into the high end that it can hurt one's ears, they are so tuneful and the songs are so damn catchy that it only makes me want to turn it up louder.  Every song is loaded with shimmering melodies and fantastic breathy background harmonies and even though I’m not always sure what they’re singing about, I find myself singing along no matter what for days after hearing this music.  The single “Hey Princess” opens the album perfectly and with its abrupt finish jumps immediately into a Sonic Youth-ish feedback sprawl that starts the short “Popcorn.”  “Popcorn” is the perfect song in my little world.  It’s fewer than two and a half minutes, is full of all of that aforementioned atonal feedback and also manages to include one of the most infectious choruses I’ve ever encountered.  There is a slight chance to catch one’s breath while some bird sounds open “Undulate,” before that driving guitar burst returns with full momentum and carries into another fast breathtaking onrush of energy.  This album is relentless, but like the slow fade out closing of the 12^th song “Sandy,” these songs are so light on their feet that each song feels like air and it is always a bit of a let down when these 45 minutes come to an end.  This isn’t all one big blast of the same song over and over again either.  There is some nice variety buried underneath the beautiful noise they create.  “Pale Honey” seems to have a layer of some seriously fast mandolin that enhances the chorus with a nervous energy like one might feel when stricken with a new crush.  The 7^th track “She” is the one truly slow song and acts as an intermission and to set the stage for the more varied second half.  More animal sounds open that second half (or side) before jumping back in to the fun of “Template” (“Let’s get out of here / Let’s have some fun / Get nothing done / Let’s disappear”), “True,” and the oddly named “A Song Called Liberty,” which sees the return of that mandolin sound.  Next up is “Bird” which is the strangest song of the bunch, but maybe the most immediately accessible (along with the straight forward pop of “Hey Princess”) with its dance shuffle and its silly chorus: “Hey girl I’m okay / I just lose myself in what you say / I don’t know if you’ve seen or heard / I circle around you like a big ole bird”).  “The previously mentioned “Sandy” is another hyper catchy crush song that absolutely lifts off into the stratosphere.  Finally, the closing “Slow” starts off with quietly strummed guitars and some very casual humming before building into a mid-tempo triumph.  This is why Lacquer was my #1 pick for favorite album of 1994, and spawned a flood of Swedish pop bands into my collection like This Perfect Day, HappyDeadMen, Cinnamon and of course, the always amazing Easy.

This Is Our Emergency

“When you've finally thrown up your hands
Poured your heart out, yet nothing stands
It seems our efforts are wasted
But yet it hasn't been in vain”


1991 was a terrible year. It started out with a three week intensive college course named “The Holocaust,” which was worse than it sounds. Then I had to drop out of school, because my mom’s horrific medical issues meant I was needed at home to help. Unfortunately, instead I spent nearly two months in the hospital after a surgery went poorly. The bulk of the year was spent working part time and driving my mom to and from her dialysis treatments out of town. It was all too late to help her though, because by September, she was gone. My friend, Wil, wasn’t having a great time of it either. He had been hospitalized for extended stretches and when home, found that he was so heavily medicated that about all he could do was sleep. Yet, out of all this darkness, something sparked between the two of us and we found a way to create something that helped inspire us and brought us closer together as friends. It was a little over 20 years ago we began a small ‘zine named This Wreckage. A project, which in many ways, got me through that terrible time and the reason why I still make half-hearted attempts at writing today via this site.

For those unfamiliar with ‘zines, they were in some sense a precursor to so many of the millions of blogs out there on the web now, but instead we used paper, typewriters, scissors, paste and photocopiers to get our message to an audience. The term ‘zine, which we hated with a passion, came from “fanzine.” Fanzines were homemade, self-published tomes, generally about one particular subject. We named our ‘zine after the 1980 Gary Numan song and produced seven issues over about a two year span. Along the way, we destroyed Mike’s photocopier (Mike, the owner of Driftwood Mac, Lincoln City’s record store, in a sense, was our benefactor), gave L.M. Tomiself a place to seemingly incite fury in anyone who read his writings, we wrote about the L.A riots, religion, and music, and Wil’s demented cartoons always adorned several pages. At one point, a naïve culture paper named Perpetua, published in Seal Rock, gave us a page in their much bigger paper (they had ads and a staff!) for a couple of months. We bit that hand by publishing a rant about the hypocrisy of hippies at a Kenny Loggins environmental rally, featured a questionable cartoon about Somalia and wrote negative reviews of all the promo CDs Perpetua wanted us to write about. That relationship ended after we were chased down by security at the Galleria for leaving Perpetua all over the mall without permission. It all ended in the fall of 1993 with an issue printed on newsprint instead of a photocopier (the pinnacle of ‘zinedom!). Unfortunately, by this point, we had become discouraged by the lack of real response from anyone, besides a few of our friends who submitted art and writing along the way. Plus the expense of printing it entirely out of our pockets became frivolous, because we now had rent and food to cover. The ultimate slap in the face came months after we printed that final issue, when another ‘zine that reviewed ‘zines gave us a glowing review for content, but in the end gave us poor marks, because there was no price included on our cover (it was always free), so the writer assumed that it would be too expensive to recommend to his readers.

Sometimes that same feeling of discouragement overcomes me when I post entries onto this new single minded version of This Wreckage. There’s a need inside anyone who creates art of any type for an audience. When there’s little or no sign of an audience, that artist inevitably questions the point of creating in the first place. It’s only natural. Don’t get me wrong, I am not calling what I’m doing here “art,” but I do find myself wondering why I bother to share these things, because there’s no audience for it. I wonder where the motivation comes from.

“Unfulfillment is killing you
Seems like no one shares the same view

We may have never met but

It might you who pulls me through”

Music has always been my motivation. My love of music and inherent need to share the new music I love with my friends has always been a part of who I am. It is undeniable, so I just go with it. When Wil and I first started doing This Wreckage a little over 20 years ago, music was the driving force for me. It was never featured particularly (every issue ended with music reviews), but it was always there. To be frank, I was hoping to get a bunch of demos and promos for free, so I wouldn’t have to keep spending all of my money on new music. Looking back now, after all these years, what I realize is that the importance of the work we did then was not what we thought we were seeking (an audience, free music, new friends and contacts, and in our most grandiose moments, a dream of earning a living by doing cool stuff and revolution!), instead it was the work itself. Rarely have I felt so inspired and driven as I did when we put those old ‘zines together, plus I don’t think Wil and I were ever closer as friends then when we were collaborating. We had so much fun making those issues that we still talk about recreating it in some form to this day, mainly so we have an excuse to hang out with a purpose and recruit our other friends to join us.

“Don't forget that when you doubt

That anyone will care about

A thing you do and when you're lost

Someone else is always found”

This Wreckage’s final issue may have gotten screwed by a misinformed review back in the day, but its epitaph came along nearly a year after it had been distributed. A small trickle of letters started to appear in the PO Box from mostly High School and college kids who liked what they saw and wanted to let us know that our work impacted and inspired them. We received our first paid advertisement (which was reluctantly returned rather than making a new issue simply because we finally had an ad), and along the way, we met some really cool people who have become long time friends. We met people we may not have otherwise (like when I found myself asking advice from Tsunami’s Jenny Toomey over the phone!), and we did indeed receive some pretty cool demos along the way from various bands such as Versus, Tugboat Annie, and 17 Relics.

Speaking of which, my recent posting of 2011’s best music shockingly has garnered some new music from a band looking for a feature on this very blog. This is the sort of thing I daydreamed about when we started the ‘zine, and now I’m not sure what to do, so I’ll review it and continue to enjoy the process of writing and communicating, no matter who is or isn’t paying attention.

Tremor Low
Kingmaker EP
(self-released)

Here we have a 5 track EP that harkens back to the goth-tinged romance bands of the early 80s like The Cure. This Bay Area four piece has tapped into some nice energy here. An early 80s post-punk vibe is clearly a touchstone here, as the first track is named “Peter Murphy’s Dead” and musically fires on all upbeat raincoat rock cylinders. Actually, their sound reminds me of a nice matching of L.A. band The Autumns and the UK’s Ray (see their Death in Fiction from a few years back). It’s amazing how these sorts of sounds make their way back into the consciousness of each new generation, since so much of this was under heard at the time. But, if the sound is done right and with passion, it is always welcome in my book. The driving title track “Kingmaker” is the highlight here with it’s sing along “Who are you?” chorus, delicate chiming guitars and splashy drumming make for a nice listen. The other big favorite is the closing “2003,” which evokes the aforementioned Peter Murphy’s dreamy solo work. This is a very consistent and enjoyable collection of songs. If any of the touchstones I mentioned are of interest, chances are you will find something to like here.
(facebook.com/tremorlow)




lyrics and title from Pretty Girls Makes Graves

Top 40 of 2011 Part IV

Here is the final installment of the Top 40 releases of 2011: The Top 10

 
I hope everyone takes a chance to share some of your favorites from this past year in the comments below!

10. We Were Promised Jetpacks
In the Pit of the Stomach
(Fatcat)
A couple of years back Ox and I went to see the Scottish lineup of The Twilight Sad and Frightened Rabbit perform at Dante’s as part of Portland’s Music Fest NW. At that time, the second Twilight Sad CD was due to be released and they were to play some new material, so we were pretty stoked. As we walked into the crowded and appropriately burning hot club, we first headed to the bar for beer, the merch table to secure the new CDs and then to the stage. The soundtrack during this entire adventure was another band from Scotland, who despite how many times I’ve asked and had answered who they were, their name never stuck with me. All I knew is that they sounded incredible, were really intense, and their singer reminded me of golfer Lee Westwood gone insane. It wasn’t until recently that I put together their silly and apparently too difficult to remember name with a moment when I could actually seek out this four-piece’s music. They have two albums, and much like their live set, both are full of incredible intensity. This second offering, much like The Twilight Sad’s second Forget the Night Ahead, is maybe a bit too much, as there’s nary a chance to take one’s breath, aside from the closing “Pear Tree,” and the opening segment of the fantastic “Act on Impulse.” True be told though, I kind of admire the all-in fire of this music. The complex and always forward pressing drumming pushes the string shredding passes of the guitars, which act as fuel to ignite a fire into singer Adam Thompson who lays his heart on the line with commitment and searing passion. If you need feel this kind of fire burning inside, then throw on the singles “Medicine” and “Human Error,” and the surprisingly hummable “Picture of Health,” or “Sore Thumb,” and the undeniable force that is the album opener “Circles and Squares.”
(wewerepromisedjetpacks.com)

9. Veronica Falls
Veronica Falls
(Bella Union/ Slumberland)
Veronica Falls have been releasing singles now for a few years, but this is their proper debut album and it’s a welcome beginning, though a pretty dark one. We start out with “Found Love in a Graveyard” a song that seems to be about having a love affair with a ghost, while we definitely don’t want to go to “The Fountain,” or delve into “Misery” or “Bad Feeling” (another ghostly entry). That’s just side one! Some of these songs sound fairly upbeat with their nice male/ female vocal harmonies, pounding barely in control drums, and tight strumming guitars, but things are definitely not all good here in Veronica Falls. The bleakness of their words isn’t overwhelming and only adds an added depth to their brand of indie pop, which is often described in terms of the C86 explosion and a touch of the Sarah brand sound, but I hear more of Australia’s late great Cannanes here, though a bit less ramshackle and a lot more focused. “Stephen” comes off as a lost Pixies track, if maybe they had decided to strip things down a bit, instead of adding the keyboard flourishes of later albums. Veronica Falls’ sound fits the black and white pastoral cover of the album. It has a wintery feel; one that is tinged with sadness, but has a familiar comfort. Don’t miss their title song “Veronica Falls,” the fairly uplifting “Come on Over,” “Right Side of my Brain,” along with the previously mentioned tunes for a sense of their sound and let’s hope they continue to make such touching music.
(veronicafalls.com)

8. The Rifles
Freedom Run
(The Rifles/Nettwerk)
This third LP from Chingford UK’s mod-pop band The Rifles is a bit of a shock to the system. Having absolutely gone apeshit over their spiky early singles and debut No Love Lost, and enjoyed their progression to a bigger sounding act with their second album Great Escape (my 2009 # 2 pick), this new one threw me. After the first few listens, and even after hearing and loving the pre-LP single “Tangled Up in Love,” pretty much nothing sat well with me. Besides that single, at best, I felt indifference, while at worst, I was annoyed. However, this is the Rifles - this is the band that gave us “Peace and Quiet,” “Local Boy,” “Science in Violence,” and my two ultimate favorites: “When I’m Alone” and “Out in the Past.” I had to give the new material more of a chance. And, believe it or not, most of these songs started to grow on me. Their earlier work had a very punk/mod flavor (think The Clash and The Jam) and they’re blessed with huge pop sensibilities. This new work focuses more on their pop sensibilities. Really, much of this album wouldn’t sound out of place amongst work by UK pop acts from the late 60s when there was a fair amount of concept album and orchestration happening. For whatever reason, it didn’t click with me at first, even though my tastes with age have leaned more towards classic pop sounds.  Maybe it’s because of songs like “Love is a Key” and “Little Boy Blue (Human Needs)” tread in a direction that I don’t want to go. The rest of the album though, has won me over in a big way. The opening four tracks form a dazzling spectacle of chiming guitars and catchy harmonies. “Dreamer” is a builder that acts as a bridge between older Rifles and this new one (literally, as they now have a new rhythm section), while “Sweetest Thing” and its falsetto vocals climbs to sparkling heights. The other unendingly catchy number is the sing-along simplicity of  “I Get Low.” Overall, though a bit too much, but a brave step in a new direction and once one’s mind (meaning mine) is open, this proves to be a winning album that sounds classic and modern at the same time, much like Oasis did during the mid-90s with Definietly Maybe. Sit back and enjoy the ride.
(therifles.com)

7. Trembling Blue Stars
Correspondence 10” EP
(Elefant)
Okay, so I thought last year’s double CD release, Fast Trains and Telegraph Wires (last year’s # 4 pick), was to be the final statement from longtime favorites Trembling Blue Stars. However, this 10” orange vinyl EP sprang up earlier this year to treat us to one last taste from this Robert Wratten led collective. With releases like this, the farewell can go on forever as far as I’m concerned. The opener is a mix of two songs from the last album, “Outside” and one of the highlights “Half-Light,” strung together into an ambient masterpiece re-titled “The Light outside.” Up next is another short instrumental that reflects the theme of the last album, with its quiet airwave static. “Sunrise on Mars” jumps in and acts as this set’s true single. It’s a spot on example of this band’s ability to craft perfect three minute bits of stellar heartfelt pop. Side two opens with an old 80s Wire favorite: “Kidney Bingos” with help from Caesar McInulty (The Wake) on vocals with late term member Beth Arzy (ex-Aberdeen). This straightforward rendition, though welcome, offers nothing revelatory. The final two songs are the very strong though. “A Field at Dusk” is an acoustic strummer that carries the listener into a melancholic state of total reflection, while “A Spell of Songs” is a classic finger picked number with a slowly unfolding story that has marked all phases of Wratten’s storied career stretching from the Field Mice, Northern Picture Library to this band. Will he start again? I sure hope so.
(elefant.com)

6. exlovers
“Blowing Kisses” 7”
“Starlight, Starlight” mp3
(Young and Lost Club)
Enough already! exlovers need to release an album now! This is getting ridiculous. This UK five-piece has released 3 7” singles and a 10” EP since 2008 with nary a fumble throughout, but still no full length. This year started off with promise with the 7” release of “Blowing Kisses,” another short driving song on par with their excellent Stephen Street produced “You Forget So Easily” (last year’s #15 pick) from late 2009. The B-side, “Motheaten Memories” is even better with its single guitar intro that builds into an upbeat number that crashes through some soaring peaks and valleys musically. Both of these songs show an aggressiveness that much of their prior work hasn’t shown, but the ever consistent twin vocals of Peter and Laurel guide us through these songs of fractured relationships. I thought this single for sure would mean a new album in 2011, but nothing all year…until just recently on their website they’ve announced that an album is immanent and have provided a chance to download a free track: “Starlight, Starlight.” I suggest everyone take advantage of this free preview; it’s quite a treat.
(exlovers.co.uk)

5. Secret Shine
The Beginning and the End
(Shine)
Secret Shine were a Sarah band in the early to mid 90s, but they were one that mined the shoegaze world more than the fey shyness of most of their label mates. Vocally, they fit right in, but musically they were bit a more noisy. Even though I treaded those Sarah grounds quite a lot back then, I somehow overlooked them. It wasn’t until after they reformed after their original drummer Tim Morris died, that I found my way to their two EPs of very nice new material released in 2006. They followed those with a new album that harkened back to their prior 90s album in 2008 (All of the Stars), which sounds great, but sometimes lacks memorable moments – like so much of the newer shoegaze material out there. This second album in their new version is a big leap forward from that one. Along with their own signature sound, this has a feel of “Pearl”-era Chapterhouse with it’s combination of electronic atmospherics mushed together with the waves of guitars and the cooing of Slowdive’s Rachel Goswell. This set opens with a fiery “In Between” to get the adrenaline going, while “Perfect Life” eases into a nice universal groove. Other standouts include the burning back to back side two songs: “Hole in Your Heart” and “It’s Killing Me.” “Touching Nothing,” and the big beat of “Trying to Catch the End” finish the album off in dreamy Slowdive-ish fashion. My only complaint here is that the vocals don’t quite fit right in the mix productive-wise. They sound like they’re piped in from somewhere else. Maybe it’s the odd seeming use of auto-tune, but something’s amiss in the sound at times. This is a minor complaint, because the songs are strong and most-likely the most consistent and best of their recording career.
(secretshine.co.uk)

4. Dum Dum Girls
Only in Dreams
He Gets Me High EP
(Sub Pop) 
I liked the Dum Dum Girls’ first album (2010’s home recorded, mostly solo I Will Be), but it felt more like sketches of songs. There are catchy short bursts with some great melodies, but the drum machine grows a bit old throughout and there’s far too much reverb shadowing Dee Dee Penny’s vocal gifts. I wondered what their second album would sound like with a full band and more fully realized songs. The result? I absolutely have fallen head over heels for Only in Dreams! Firstly, Dee Dee’s vocals are way more upfront and forceful here, which is a plus, because she gets to showcase her cool early - Chrissie Hynde (The Pretenders) inflected voice. Oh, and her oohs and aahs throughout can be spine tingling, such as in the sad plea of “Heartbeat (Take It Away),” which makes me melt. The full live band proves to be a huge benefit as well, after a year of solid touring; they have formed a tight knit base and Jules adds some tasteful 60s-ish surf guitar leads that fits beautifully inside these girl group inspired songs. Everything here is recommended, but start with the endlessly refreshing “Bedroom Eyes,” the Cramps-like “Just a Creep,” “Caught in One,” and “Tears on My Pillow.” Then, turn to the epic and haunting “Coming Down” and the emotional “Hold Your Hands.” Come to think of it, this album is actually stuffed with heartbreak and sadness and loneliness and it is a beautiful and comforting way to deal with it.

The pre-LP four song EP He Gets Me High is also highly recommended. The three originals are all worthy of making the album, especially the single standout title track. Lastly, is a cover of the Smiths’ oft-covered “There is a Light that Never Goes Out,” which is a song that doesn’t need to be covered, but this is easily the best I’ve heard. The loud buzzing guitars drive this song with an urgency that most covers seem to lack and it has reinvigorated life into a song that had kind of faded from my old lexicon of favorites. Thank you!
(wearedumdumgirls.com)

3. Lanterns on the Lake
Gracious Tide, Take Me Home (2 CD)
(Bella Union)
After three stellar self-released CD EP’s, Northeastern England’s Lanterns on the Lake finally come through with a full length album. Last year’s EP feature “Lungs Quicken” (#14 pick for me for 2010) opens this 11 song set with its life affirming urgent plea. There are a few other holdovers from the original limited EP’s dating back to 2008’s Starlight EP. From that debut we find two songs that have undergone major overhauls: the heart wrenching “If I Have Been Unkind” and the now sweeping epic plea of “I Love You, Sleepyhead.” Also, appearing from their 2009 second EP Misfortunes and Minor Victories, another transformed treat finds “A Kingdom” becoming the upbeat centerpiece in this cinematic collection. If you thought those early EPs were impressive displays of subtle beauty and introspection, this album will fulfill and surpass all expectations! I’m pretty sure that the weather has changed to dark and menacing outside while I’ve listened to this beauty, as it evokes the myriad greys, dark blues, and greens of a misty coastline. The gentle guitar plucks and foggy atmosphere of the layers of strings envelop these songs with shimmering depth. Check out the autumn colors of “Blanket of Leaves,” “Not Going Back to the Harbour,” and the perfect “Tricks.”

Also, if you have the chance, find the version of this album with the “Rough Trade Bonus Disc.” Two of the songs are reprised remixes from the album, but are really the full superior versions of what made the LP. While the two new tracks are both stunners!
(lanternsonthelake.com)

2. The Wild Swans
The Coldest Winter For A Hundred Years
Tracks in Snow EP
(Occultation)
Could this really be true: a third album from the Wild Swans? I hear their trademark icy keyboard atmospherics, some twinkling piano fills, pristine guitar leads and Paul Simpson’s distinctive and personable voice; it is true! Let’s see, they formed in like 1980, released their first official LP in 1988 and find their way to this: The Coldest Winter in a Hundred Years by 2011. Maybe most surprising is that these 13 tracks collect the sound, the passion and the romanticism first heard from these northern Brits back in 1982 with their legendary “Revolutionary Spirit” single and their early BBC recordings. I cannot tell you how welcome this release is! You see, as a young kid, I discovered this band through the vinyl only release of their three song Peel Session, which is stunning (a record I purchased twice due to wearing it out). That very release spawned a rebirth and led them to finally record their first album: Bringing Home the Ashes, an album that has not fared well critically over time, but one which I proudly claimed in 1988 as my favorite of that year and am not ashamed that it still holds a warm place in my heart. Yes, it has dated a bit, due to a heavy 80s production sound (drums that sound like machines, etc), but the songs are stellar. An odd second album followed two years later and was way too influenced by producer Ian Broudie, whose Lightning Seeds were splashing rainbows and candy all over the world at that time. Space Flower was mildly interesting, but turned out to be fleeting ear candy that has not been a favorite to return to. I’m not sure why I’m going through the history lesson here, though it is an interesting one – considering that the band is more of a legend or myth than an actual entity. In 2009, they shocked me by releasing a magical 10” two song single with the catchy UK referencing “English Electric Lightning,” (included here) and the wonderful short story/song “The Coldest Winter for a Hundred Years” which details the early years of the Liverpool music scene through the eyes of main Swan Paul Simpson. “Liquid Mercury” was the next peak at new material (also included here) and it shines as a prime example of their new material – a pristine classic catchy tune. Most of these songs are simple 3 minute pop nuggets, yet they jammed full of feeling and depth. The clear theme throughout is a sense of loss – and that loss being England’s fall from grace – at least in Simpson’s mind. It is probably a bit overdone, but there’s a little bit in all of us that looks back into parts of the past longingly and the supposed good times. This one will feed that desire and provides the perfect reflective soundtrack to do so. “Falling to Bits,” the opener, with its declaration “This town is falling to bits and I don’t like it/ We need a bonfire lit and I’ll ignite it” serves as a proper thesis that leads to the aforementioned songs, the heavily referenced “My Town” and the lamenting closer “The Bluebell Wood;” all of which provide examples of better times. The best songs though lie in the other tracks. I love the bursting chorus of “Chloroform,” and the tragedy of its both World War referencing lyrics, and the mournful yet comforting conversation with loved ones now passed in “Lost At Sea.” This is what I signed up for and why this CD has stayed in constant rotation throughout much of the year. I don’t know if the Wild Swans will stick around this time or disappear for another 10 years, but I recommend everyone seek this out while they’re still here. I would start with their early years 2 CD retrospective from 2003, Incandescent, but I hear that’s now out of print and selling at outrageous prices, so get this while the opportunity still exists!!

Through direct mail order from Occultation, one can also pick up the 3 song suite Tracks in Snow, which should be released as a single. All three songs are easily album worthy, if not radio single ready. “Dark Times” works as the perfect Wild Swans anthem in less than 3 minutes! Wait! No! “Disintegrating” is the perfect Wild Swans single that encapsulates their ability to capture broken hearted moments with a comforting touch. Meanwhile, the closing “Poison” is a nice little love song - also highly recommended.
(thewildswans.co.uk)

1. The Joy Formidable
The Big Roar (Box set)
(Canvasback/Atlantic)
I am in love with this band. I have to come clean. There’s no way around it. When I first ran across their impressive mix of soaring shoegaze atmospherics mixed with the grinding propulsive drive of the best post-punk, and the crazy frenetic drumming, I was hooked. Listening to this, their official debut album (though 2009’s A Balloon Called Moaning was basically an album – my #1 pick from last year!!), has made me feel like a high school kid again! They have rekindled that early spark I had when I first became a music obsessive fanatic. When I wanted to follow bands on tour, wear their t-shirts every day and litter my walls with posters and album art. The Big Roar fits that bill too! Its mix of epic barnstormers and short fast pounders, along with an unusual bent on lyrics; reminded me of the sprawling mess that I fell in love with when I first came home with The Cure’s Kiss Me Kiss Me Kiss Me in 1987, as a 16 year old. Not that they sound anything like each other, but the creative drive and willingness to go for it at all costs is what is appealing. The only downside of their debut is that four of these twelve numbers were already on last years’ EP/LP, though these are bigger sounding and “Whirring” now is a closer approximation of the unbelievable show-stopper that this gale force band is live (a must see!!!). Also, last autumn’s stunning single “I Don’t Want to See You like This” appears here as well. We’ll let this go though, since these songs needed more exposure, because they are simply that damn good. The remaining seven songs are glimpses into the shear raw power that this Welsh by way of London trio possess. The opening track “The Everchanging Spectrum of a Lie” is a slow building lengthy glider that spirals itself into a frenzied show stopping force! Though it’s not the easiest way to be exposed to the band, it certainly shows off where they’re about to take us. The highlights for me, besides the appearance of the double-kick drum on a handful of tracks (feeding my secret metal head needs), come with the bursting short-ish songs, such as the punky “The Magnifying Glass,” the explosive “Chapter 2,”and the cryptic “A Heavy Abacus.” I hope they don’t burn themselves out too quickly! This is amazing stuff.

The box set, if you can get your hands on one, comes with a second disc with 6 tracks from their earlier days. The highlights are the Catherine Wheel-like shredder “Greyhounds in the Slips” and the underrated 2010 single “Popinjay,” which is downright creepy. Also included are two DVDs. One disc follows the band a journey from their home base to the beach where they filmed the video for “I Don’t Want to See You like This,” (video included) as well as compiling all of their early videos for “Whirring,” “Austere,” and “Cradle.” The other disc is an up close, audience perspective view of the band in an early NYC gig. It gives one a taste of how impressive they are in person.
(thejoyformiable.com)



Here's to a new year and much much more great music and don't forget to share your choices for the best of 2011!



Links: Top 40 #'s 40-31
                      #'s 30-21
                      #'s 20-11

Top 40 of 2011 Part III

Here are the listings from #'s 20-11of my favorites of 2011:

20. Buffalo Tom
Skins
(Scrawny)
Getting older sucks. More and more, I’m finding I’m writing about bands in their 30-somethingth year of existence and in some cases wondering what happened to their initial fire and power. Buffalo Tom is a prime example. Their first three albums were Dinosaur Jr.-tinged, true American, college rock feasts of blasting guitars, tumultuous drums and achingly powerful songs that peaked with the stellar rollercoaster ride that is 1992’s Let Me Come Over. In 2007, they reunited after their initial 10 year run, with a so-so album (Three Easy Pieces) that made the purchase of Skins a bit of a risk, and much like the direction of their post 1992 career arc, the songs have mostly lost their edge and spunk. It’s not bad though. In 1995 I might’ve shelved this CD after one listen and written it off as old man rock – much like I did with 1993’s horribly produced Big Red Letter Day. Now that I am an old man, I see some value here. The opening “Arise, Watch” is a stunning piece of vocal interplay that traces new ground without losing attention. ‘Down” recalls some of their older work, as does the spunky “Guilty Girls.” Other standouts include the momentous “Here I Come,” “Lost Weekend,” and the closing “Out of the Dark.” Yet, when I hear the mandolin and acoustic plucks of the glossy duet with Tanya Donelly (ex-Throwing Muses, Breeders & Belly), I get sleepy and bored. There’s a bit too much of that here, but they are on an improving arc, and that is a good thing!
(buffalotom.com)

19. Ringo Deathstarr
Colour Trip
Sparkler
(Sonic Unyon)
Colour Trip is this Austin, Texas trio’s first official album and it is a welcome one. For those out there who love shoegaze with some bite, there is something of quality to be found here. Their sound goes back to the Jesus and Mary Chain – like many of the original shoegaze bands of the late-80s/early 90s – taking cues from the deep breathy vocals and machine-like pop precision of JAMC’s Honey’s Dead. Then, they infuse their sound with massive doses of My Bloody Valentine waves of guitar disorientation. In other words, this is pretty cool. I also appreciate the focus, as most of these songs clock in at fewer than 3 minutes. There isn’t a lot of groundbreaking here, but they have found a sound and they have breathed some life and passion into it and it shines through. Feel their force on the MBV ode “Imagine Hearts,” the Lush-like explosion of “So High,” and “Tambourine Girl.” The ultimate song – one of the best of the year – is the two minute “Kaleidoscope,” whose brevity and humming feedback atmosphere makes me want to hear it over and over again and yet again.

Sparkler, a compilation of their early EP and singles, was originally released in 2009, but I had not yet discovered these guys. Luckily, Sonic Unyon has made these songs readily available again. Here Ringo’s influences are even more clearly stated, but one can see their talent and ability in such songs as “Some Kind of Sad,” “Down on You,” and “Sweet Girl in Love.” Colour Trip is their better and more original work, but both are worth the price of admission.
(facebook.com/ringodeathstarr)

18. For Against
Black Soap EP
(Words-on-Music)
Nebraska’s rock legends For Against have been creating amazing music for over 25 years and this EP collects three songs from their earliest recordings together in 1984 and allows them to see the light of day for the first time. It proves that they had a lot of talent to burn from the get go. “Black Soap,” their first ever recording, is a short and speedy post-punk landmark chock full of early Cure reverbed bass lines (think “Play for Today”), scratchy guitars and busy drumming and, of course, monotone dark lyrics (“your black soap won’t get me clean”). An amazing start! “Dark Good Friday” sounds a bit more like the direction For Against headed with their first two 80s albums with Harry Dingman’s stratospheric guitars chiming atop Jeffrey Runnings’ mid-range bass fills. Lastly, we find a different mix of their now famous (in my dream world that is) club epic “Amen Yves (White Circles),” which originally appeared on their unbelievably creative In the Marshes 10”, as part of Independent Project Records’ “Archive Series” in 1990 (my favorite of all their records). Crucial for fans.
(myspace.com/foragainst)

17. Should
Like a Fire Without Sound
(Words-on-Music)
It’s been since 1998 since Should released Feed Like Fishes and to be honest I had kind of forgotten about them. In some ways, this doesn’t sound like the same band, since the fuzz and noise of their early records has been completely stripped away. What we’re left with without this added coating is a much more memorable bunch of songs. The nine songs here are very downbeat and precise and perfect for a nice lazy afternoon of daydreaming. Each little nuance and subtle addition to these fairly sparse songs conjure up very pleasing hummable moments. The delicate melodies that Marc Ostermeier and Tanya Maus create here on such standouts as “Turned Tables,” “Slumberland,” and “Just Not Today” all feel so familiar and comfortable that I cannot shake them from my consciousness. Plus, I cannot overlook the cool factor of their cover of Disco Inferno’s “Broken” (from their 1991 In Debt compilation LP!). Please check this out!
(myspace.com/shouldmusic)

16. The Pains of Being Pure at Heart
Belong
(Collective Sounds/ Slumberland)
This is a very nice second album. The Pains’ first had a decidedly small indie pop sound, which mirrored the early Slumberland artists from 89-92 in sound and vibe, has been transformed into a much bigger one with the addition of mega producer Flood (U2, Depeche Mode, etc) and a superb mix job by the remarkable Alan Moulder (Swervedriver, Ride, Lush, Curve, etc). These kids are clearly making a step forward and searching for a wider audience. Hot on the heels of last year’s two shining 7” singles, this album starts off with the heavy buzz and danceable jangle of the title track followed by the super poptastic classic “Heaven’s Gonna Happen Now” and “Heart in Your Heartbreak (second of the 2010 singles – last year’s # 23 pick). These three songs show the promise that the Pains have! The remainder of the album is full of solid little songs, though it levels off a bit. Some other good high points include the teen anthem of “Even in Dreams,” the very Jesus and Mary Chain-ish “Girl of 1,000 Dreams” and the trance inducing closer “Strange.” I look forward to their next progression.
(thepainsofbeingpureatheart.com)

15. The Lonely Forest
Arrows
(Trans/Atlantic)
Every once in a while, an album comes along where nothing really astounds me, yet I find myself listening to it all the time. This year’s candidate is from the, apparently third album by Anacortes, WA natives, The Lonely Forest. I say apparently, because I had never heard of them and am a bit saddened that I have let them slip through my fingers this long. Luckily, Death Cab’s Chris Walla snapped them out of obscurity and signed them to his own fledgling label imprint with Atlantic and produced them as well. In addition, they played some dates with the Joy Formidable around the time Arrows was released and I was able to see them play last spring. They are a straightforward good old fashioned college rock band that has a knack for writing some pretty catchy anthems. Most of these songs feel like they should be played at outdoor festivals. Their lyrics are very relatable and down to earth. In fact, they really should be much better known than they are! Maybe vocalist John Van Deusen’s mildly nasally voice may turn some people off, but it doesn’t bother me. Maybe I simply relate to their clear love of the Pacific Northwest’s access to oceans, harbors, rivers, lakes, lush forests and mountains that shines through their music (check out their love song to the NW: “I Don’t Want to Live There”) that I relate to. At any rate, the highlight here is “Turn Off This Song and Go Outside,” and very catchy pop tune that is telling us to do exactly what it says. The album is bookended by a couple of quiet ballads, but for the most part this collection rocks and finds some good hooks in songs like “Two Notes and a Beat,” “Coyote,” and the twin songs that examine the inside and outside of love “(I Am) The Love Skeptic” (“and the bullshit never ends”) and “(I Am) The Love Addict.” This is very entertaining.
(thelonelyforest.com)

14. Nature Set
Enough is Enough 7” EP
(Elefant)
Oh boy! This is fantastic! “Enough is Enough” comes on fast and is as addictive as crack! I love it! This UK four-piece had me dancing around like the moron I am in seconds with "Enough is Enough," and the best part is that the other three songs herein are just as strong. I make it no secret, I am a sucker for catchy, energetic pop songs and it’s a bonus when they come packaged with female vocals with lots of background harmonies! “You or Nobody” slows things down a bit and at times sounds a bit like label-mates The School. Then they get their early Go-Go’s on with the B-side opener, “At Least Not Today,” while finally catching a psychedelic tinge with their darker closing track “The Engineer,” which reminds me of a song I know so well, but I cannot place it. Whatever the case, this is excellent and I am an instant convert. I cannot wait to hear more. They have just released a split cassette with the newly formed Former Lover, who is led by ex Long Blonde (a favorite in this house), Dorian Cox. I am filled with anticipation.
(natureset.info)

13. Standard Fare
“Suitcase” 7”
“Darth Vader” mp3
Standard Fare/One Happy Island
Split 7” EP
(Melodic/Thee Sheffield Phonographic Co)
Last year’s debut album from Standard Fare, The Noyelle Beat (#3 pick), was a refreshing and surprising blast of fun and lively songs that have continued to linger in my head for nearly two years now. I’m so glad that they’ve released a bit of new music this year while waiting with great anticipation for the January 2012 release of their sophomore effort, Out of Sight, Out of Town. The split single with Boston’s One Happy Island finds both bands covering each other’s songs, along with one original each. Standard Fare takes a crack at what turns out to be an incredible OHI song: “Kudzu Girlfriend.” The title alone tells us where this one is going, but Standard Fare turn this into their own with their brand of C86 jangly buzz and duel vocals. Their original contribution is another tight 2 minutes. One Happy Island takes on Standard Fare’s “Night with a Friend,” and similarly, they make this their own. One Happy Island reminds of a modern version of the low-fi Beat Happening sound, but with much better playing. Their music is charming with unusual instrumentation and it works perfectly with this great duet. Their original “China Fair” is another revelation and a good reason to seek this music out.

“Suitcase” is an incredible song that shows us that Standard Fare is ready to grow and expand, though they are also ready to abandon all of us for a bunker prepared for nuclear fallout. The B-side here, “Nine Days,” also shows another side of the band with a much more reserved feel.

This quieter sound continues on Standard Fare’s newest mp3 single “Darth Vader,” which finds them switching perspective from the exuberance and frailty of young love to a level of maturity mixed with resignation. The non-LP track that comes with the single download, “Argument,” is another short two minute worth the .99 cents, but clearly a B-side.
(standardfare.co.uk)

12. Wire
Red Barked Tree
(Pink Flag)
It’s hard to believe that the third version of Wire (second reformation – now as a trio) has lasted longer than either of the previous two. The most amazing part is that Red Barked Tree is their most live-sounding, and spontaneous album since maybe 1977’s Pink Flag! The best part for me is that this album seems to accumulate the sounds and styles that they have experimented with off and on for the last 35 years and smash them all together in a surprisingly cohesive 40 or so minute whole. Speaking of smashing, “Smash” here is one of their best true rock songs ever! But who cannot love the straight ahead punk burst of “Two Minutes” or the oddball (a word I used twice in a description for their 2008 # 7 pick Object 47) Graham Lewis sung “Bad Worn Thing”? And who would’ve ever thought we’d hear layers of acoustic guitars strumming along on the closing statement “Red Barked Trees”? This band continues to progress in unexpected, and more importantly, refreshing ways. Amazing.
(pinkflag.com)

11. Drugstore Anatomy
“Sweet Chili Girl” CDsingle
“Standing Still” CDsingle
(Rocket Girl)
Yet another band that we had lost in time has returned. This was once surprising, but nowadays, it has become commonplace and welcome. I don’t care what anyone says about selling out and all that. These artists deserve a second chance at attention. I hope they make it! At any rate, during the mid-to-late 90s Drugstore was a perennial favorite of mine. Their brand of catchy acoustic based tunes crooned by the Brazilian born bandleader Isabel Monteiro really found a home in my heart. This trio had an energetic spark, despite some fairly quiet numbers, which revealed itself on their fiery second album White Magic for Lovers (1998). However, ten years after their so-so third offering found them splintering and disappearing, Monteiro has come back with a new lineup and with renewed enthusiasm. These ten songs are subdued and quiet and really quite depressing (sample lyric: “I want salt in the wound/I want blood in the rain/everytime that I move/I want nothing but pain”), but also full of life and verve. Instead of coming off as woe is me, these songs of heartbreak feel more like an understanding old friend who has come to help us nurse our wounds. There are many references to things coming to an end: lights going out, falling rocks, etc, but it feels natural, like the end of a chapter and the start of something new. The tracks here are sparser than ever, with mostly a solo acoustic album feel, but are warmed by light touches of subtle instrumentation throughout. Most welcome is the heart-tugging strings of the closer “Clouds,” and the Spanish inflected duet “Aquamarine,” which reminds me of some of those beautiful cinematic songs by Lee Hazlewood and Nancy Sinatra from the late 60s. This album seems to improve with each listen!

The singles are not essential here, especially, the “Sweet Chili Girl” 2 tracker, both songs bookend the album. The standout album track “Standing Still” offers two new songs, which are okay (“Don’t Throw Me In” and “Bring Me His Head”) in the same vein as the album, but not as revealing and exciting as some of the band’s past b-side material.
(rocketgirl.co.uk)




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