What we've learned here

Greetings. Yes, it's been a good many months since the CD Slut experiment wound down. I managed to buy a CD every day, as per the plan, and then snagged another 30-something records at that place before I skipped town. I'm still getting through those, as well as the batches I bought on various travels afterwards. But getting through things like the Germs, Edith Piaf and Deep Purple all in rapid succession doesn't seem particularly exciting right now, so I'm taking it nice and slow. I've since implemented a moratorium on new purchases - it's just not fun to try to absorb that much stuff at that pace and keep up your enthusiasm. To an extent, that's the life of a rock critic, but the speed isn't (or shouldn't be) quite so furious.

Anyhow, as I scroll back through the entries (particularly the ones I don't remember - looking at the timestamps should tell you something about my state of mind for doing most of these) I've determined I can't hack it with the snark. Ever since I was an overzealous and embarrassingly earnest Tool fan in high school, my capacity for mockery only goes so far. I never want to get to a sickeningly obsessive, overwrought level, but at the same time, I find that in the way I pass judgment, as well as in what I like to read, I ultimately value most when someone speaks plainly and directly, without the sneer and rolling of eyes that seems to be such a staple of contemporary music criticism. I definitely talk that way sometimes, but there's something about it that translates to sheer annoyance when put into written words, and I've found I can't really go through with it.

Ultimately, what really should come across is excitement. You're excited when it's great, and disappointed when it's underwhelming, only because you really wanted to like it. When I stop listening with the enthusiasm I had when I was fourteen, it will be time to reassess.

A few weeks ago, I was at a bar with one of the bands I had written about on CD Slut. They had taken over the house PA, and were playing random cuts off of their iPods. We stood in a circle with the widest stances we could and air-guitared to old Metallica, Megadeth and Guns N' Roses songs, and it was probably one of the most fun nights I've had in years. It felt like I was back in my room with the posters on the walls of bands I don't listen to so much anymore, making acne-scarred faces that would be of 'naked at school' levels of terror if anyone else saw them.

That's what I'm looking for. I want to like it, I want to say it, and I want to mean it. But in the current music media climate of overanalysis and smirks and ratings down to the percentage point, I don't know where the space for that is anymore. Let's cast aside this nervous self-consciousness and let ourselves be excited again.

#60: Iggy Pop - Lust for Life

For as much as I've been into the Stooges over the last three years, it's certainly taken me a while to get any Iggy Pop solo records. But I finally snagged a copy of Lust for Life, and my expectations of greatness were mostly met. What really appealed to me about the Stooges was the abrasiveness, especially of Raw Power. I was pretty bummed when I saw the reunited lineup would be skipping the Raw Power on the setlist. I like the first two albums just fine, but when everything was fully in the red at David Bowie's perhaps slightly inept hands, that's what really sets me off.

Lust for Life manages to create an interesting mix of both of those eras, as well as adding dabs of fresh stuff. The first couple of tracks could have been on Fun House, and the screeching guitar on "Some Weird Sin" brings to mind the glorious wailing that opens "Search and Destroy." But when things really get outstanding is on "The Passenger," the 'know you've heard it before but can't place where' nugget of genius that finds Iggy in discarded junkie crooner mode, not as off-the-rails as on "Gimme Danger," but just as eerie. There are very few songs I will listen to on loop, and "The Passenger" just became one of them. It alone made the album worth the purchase.

There are plenty of other doses of goodness, like "Success," which could be a great lost Rolling Stones track, or "Neighborhood Threat," which sounds like a Crazy Horse outtake. I could do without the "Jesus, this is Iggy..." monologue on "Turn Blue," but to grant Iggy his greatness, you also have to allow for his penchant for the theatrical and melodramatic. But when he's roaring like a lion and taking full command of whatever era he's trying to capture, be it the Iggy Stooge of old or a new incarnation of Iggy Pop, it's really as rock and roll as it gets.

Also, this is clearly the greatest album cover of all time. Only fools and mutants disagree.

"The Passenger" live

#59: Dead Kennedys - Frankenchrist

Frankenchrist was the beginning of the end for the Dead Kennedys. They'd still put out another record, 1986's Bedtime for Democracy, but the lawsuit and scrutiny the band faced upon the release of Frankenchrist would ultimately be the early days of the band's undoing. The PMRC would come down hard on the band, and the resulting legal drama would estrange the members and shake the band's confidence. And ultimately, it wasn't for writing songs like "I Kill Children," it was due to the inclusion of an H.R. Giger poster with the album. I'll refrain from posting it here, but I'll just say it's most often referred to as Penis Landscape. So yeah.

Musically, the record is miles away from Fresh Fruit for Rotting Vegetables, the only other DK album I own, and one of the most fun albums in my collection. The songs crack the five minute mark, feature guitar riffs spread out so much that they actually sound like individual notes, but Jello Biafra's sense of humor and barely-contained rage expressed as sarcasm remains intact, and is the main thing that ties Frankenchrist to its earliest predecessor.

The pair of tracks that stands out on first listen are the two that sound the most like the band's early material, "MTV - Get Off the Air" (minus the trumpet solo) and "Stars and Stripes of Corruption," the album's closer, which clocks in at six and a half minutes. Prog wankers. But as far as "MTV - Get Off the Air" goes, I think there need to be more song titles that are commands. There's something pretty great about it, and assertiveness sure is sexy. It's also fun to hear Jello refer to commercial TV as twenty-five years old.

I don't think this one will occupy a near-permanent spot in the car, but the essence of the band will be enough to keep me coming back, as well as finally getting around to buying the rest of these records. I also put this band in my top five bands least likely to reunite.

"MTV - Get Off the Air" live



"Goons of Hazzard" live

#58: DJ Shadow - Entroducing.....

So, uh...hooray, it's an hour of seemingly incongruous samples that make a cohesive and quite listenable album.

Er yeah, that's honestly it. It's enjoyable, relaxing, well-constructed, and the only sample I recognized was the drone from Metallica's "Orion" on "The Number Song." A salute is in order for not going for "Funky Drummer" or any Parliament beat.

Besides that, it's hard to say much that's incisive or interesting about Entroducing..... It's a work of obsession, and it achieves what it strives for, which is to be an intricate but easily accessible meshing of music from various sources. Basically, if you read any review of it or even have any vague grasp of the style, it will make sense and sound good. That's all there is to it. Excellence in simplicity.

"Organ Donor" live



"The Number Song"

#57: Willie Nelson - Red Headed Stranger

I feel kind of guilty, because every year I pick Willie Nelson as number one in my death pool. It's not that I wish him ill or like he's in bad shape, it's just a feeling. Obviously, it's been wrong so far. But I never heard a more satisfied man than a local sports radio host after Bob Hope died, something he'd been predicting for eight years. I hope to one day know that joy.

Apparently, this album tells a story involving religion and murder, but I didn't really pick up on it. Musically, it's remarkably sparse, with rarely more than a single guitar, Willie's voice and sometimes a fiddle slowly grinding away in the background. But I'm pretty appreciative that it's a more simple affair, because to me, the more you add, the worse country gets. I'm aiming for something I can hear around a fire, not something requiring a sixteen-piece orchestra. That's why everyone laughs at "A Man Needs a Maid."

The brevity of these songs is also pretty interesting - the majority clock in under two minutes, and only three tracks break the three-minute mark. So Red Headed Stranger covers a lot of moods pretty quickly, but it never comes across as forced or too quick. It's more like you're gently guided from the murder to the funeral and on through the story. It's also interesting to note that Nelson only had hand in writing just under half of the songs, and the rest come from various other writers, but the whole thing is remarkably cohesive. So first Willie Nelson record, I declare this to be a win. I still need to figure out which Merle Haggard records to get, though.

#56: Minor Threat - Complete Discography

Okay, this is great. Minor Threat needs to reform as a business enterprise just for the purpose of suing Pulp so they can somehow claim the name This is Hardcore for their Complete Discography compilation. Because basically, this is an entire genre defined in forty-seven minutes.

While some of the more storied hardcore records and bands leave me a little cold or hoping for something more aggressive, Minor Threat completely delivers. I'm glad, because I remember being somewhat unimpressed with Fugazi, but it's all here - the blazing tempos, the half-enunciated vocals, and that prominent, rattling bass that I love so damn much. And much to Ian MacKaye's chagrin, this would be a great drinking record.

About a year or so ago, I watched the American Hardcore documentary, and walked away pretty amped about exploring the genre further. Well, all I've really done since then is get a Bad Brains record, but this has totally rekindled my interest. I probably need to go back and watch that movie again so I can make a mental list of where to go from here. I'm assuming I can't go wrong with the Germs and Circle Jerks, so I'll probably start from there. I'm glad there are still genres of aggressive music that I haven't milked dry yet, but I suppose it would have been pretty swell to be into this at fourteen for maximum parental annoyance.

"Straight Edge" - you don't see many frontmen drinking soda onstage anymore



"It Follows" and "Screaming at a Wall"

#55: The Damned - Damned, Damned, Damned

Often considered the first full-length punk record from the UK, Damned, Damned, Damned was released in 1977, a year after the Ramones' debut. The songs are hyperspeed bursts of alternating snottiness and...nevermind, there's really not much alternating going on. The chorus of the pedal to the floor opener "Neat Neat Neat" is reduced to "Ni Ni Ni," and the barely one-minute "Stab Your Back" manages to sound like a complete song.

Thankfully, no amount of remastering can eliminate the rawness of the record, which, fidelity-wise, actually sounds worse than the first Ramones record. The band obviously has a direction and a personality on their debut, but when comparing them to the Ramones, the vision doesn't sound quite as unified. It's damn good, but in between the Chuck Berry guitar and endlessly active bass, there's a hint of missing character that would have bumped this to another level. Maybe I'm just annoyed that "So Messed Up" is a cautionary tale rather than something more jubilant.

On a happier note, Rat Scabies is probably the greatest stage name anyone has ever come up with. He's the dude licking the pie out of bassist Captain Sensible's hair on the cover. It doesn't show up on the cover, but frontman Dave Vanian's white makeup and slicked-back hair would eventually be ripped off by many a young band, and he looks as badass as M. Shadows from Avenged Sevenfold wishes he did.

"New Rose"



"Fan Club"