My Top 15 Albums

Facebook (i.e. the archnemisis of productivity) has been on a big list kick as of late. I even got suckered into doing one of those bullshit "25 things about me" things, but was pretty intent on leaving it at that. But then i saw one that was right up my alley: Top 15 Albums. I couldn't resist.

Oddly enough, I've never done one of these lists as they pertain to music, save for one hastily thrown together year end Top 10 list for the Marquette Tribune in 2004. But this, a sort of autobiographical list of the 15 albums that shaped my world, required a little more thought. Anyway, here's my list, which I decided to tuck away here instead of whoring it out on Facebook. It'd hardly definitive, but its pretty close. Also, pay no mind to the sequence outside of the top three. This shit is way to hard to organize.

Nirvana-Nevermind
-A safe one for sure, but if I'm being honest this absolutely belongs on this list, and it can't fall anywhere short of number one. As a product of the early '90s grunge/punk/alternative era, there was just no other starting point than Nevermind. The album baosted five singles, all more than mere hits but rather anthems for a generation. Simply put, Nirvana was my first musical crush. In fact, I pinpoint my first vivid musical memory to watching Krist Novacellic throwing his bass up in the air and getting clonked on the head with it during the band's performance of "Lithium" at the 1992 Video Music Awards. From there it was pretty much the snowball effect.

Rancid-Let's Go!/...And Out Come the Wolves
-Tied for second, the two best albums by my all time favorite band. While i don't listen to Rancid as much as I did during middle school and high school, the band earns my favorite band nod because since I first bought "Let's Go!" in October 1995, there hasn't been another band whose music has meant more to me. "Let's Go," with 23 tracks clocking in at just over a half an hour, feels like the musical equivalent to taking a joy ride in a stolen car. It's frantic, sharply produced, high voltage punk rock, even if the songs blend together a little too well at points.
But if "Let's Go!" was a hellraising introduction to the band, "...And Out Come the Woves," Rancid's third album released just a year later, was goddamn epic and the band's finest offering to date. The album branched out into ska and two-tone without sacrificing its '77-style punk grit, making for the best album of the mid '90s punk revival era. The only thing better than listening to the records is seeing the band live, which i've been lucky enough to do five times now. Simply classic.

NOFX-Punk In Drublic
-In high school, my musical tastes were about as rigid as they got. I was hopelessly dedicated to punk and melodic hardcore bands as touted and branded by such tastemaking labels as Epitaph and Fat. In fact, apart from choice local bands, that was more or less all I listened. Warped tour was like a second Christmas for me.
Anywhooo atop that elite list of bands was NOFX, the perpetually adolescent kings of bratty, snot nosed SoCal skate punk some 18 or 19 years running. My tastes have expanded considerably since I was 14 or 15, so the band's brazen decadence doesn't resonate with me nearly as much as it used to. That, coupled with the fact that the band's last record totally blew, and wre taking about a pretty steep drop in fandom. But I still love them because their music still has an unbreakable stranglehold on a very paticular era of my personal musical journey. "Punk in Drublic" is the band's best record, with "So Long and Thanks For All the Shoes" coming in at a close second.

Tom Waits-Rain Dogs
I'll admit, Tom Waits' music isn't exactly inviting, so I don't feel too bad about how long it took me before finally giving in. Toward the middle of my college years, maybe early junior year, I picked up "Rain Dogs" at a bargain price, but it didn't hit me right away. In fact, a few years went by before the album's sheer greatness finally hit me over the head. From there came others: "Frank's Wild Years," "Mule Variations," "Bone Machine" and "Orphans" among others. Still, none are anywhere near as freakishly awesome as "Rain Dogs," a record that pushed me more than any other toward embracing more adventurous sounding music.

Elvis Costello and the Attractions-This Year's Model
Like I mentioned earlier, any music I gave even half a chance in high school had to have at least a fleeting connection to punk, and it took sufficient name dropping from bands like Goldfinger, Green Day and MXPX among others to encourage me to give Elvis Costello a fighting chance. When I did buy "My Aim is True," I liked it enough, but didn't quite get the connection. But when I heard "This Year's Model," it all clicked. Elvis and the Attractions were infinitely more pop oriented, but as the poster child of outsider angst, it was easy to see where so many punk bands got their sneering cues. Another critical album that showed me there were signs of musical life outside of Southern California.


Goldfinger-S/T
We've all heard of the expression "comfort food," any home cooked meal that reminds you of home and of growing up. It's weird, but certain things carry that sentimental weight. I have "comfort music," songs and records that instantly remind me of my 13 year old self blaring music while doing shitty algebra problems. We've touched upon a couple already on this list, and Goldfinger's 1996 self titled debut is easily another. What I love about it is how simple yet effective it is. It's not at all groundbreaking, and it doesn't lend itself to endless discussion and analysis the way "Blonde on Blonde" or "Sgt. Peppers" does. But damn if that wasn't one of the best fucking records I'd heard in my life up to that point. Great production, tight, punchy power punk with splashes of ska, and one of the best singles of the 90s in "Here in Your Bedroom. Good shit.


Big D and the Kids Table-Shot By Lammi
My discovering Big D and the Kids Table (along with a shit ton of other Boston-area bands circa 1997-1998) was the equivalant of the Big Bang Theory. It was a significant turning point where my musical tastes started veering sharply away from MTV and radio toward "underground" music. My friends and I used to live for going to shows at the Middle East, VFW halls, churches and the host of other random ass places promoters hosted shows back in the day, and we followed bands like the Bruisers, Ducky Boys, Dropkick Murphys, Kicked in the Head and Big D with almost reckless abandon. Can't say I listen to them nearly as much anymore, but I did meat Dave McWane for an interview with the Noise sometime back and was pleased to find he was a very cool and lid back guy.


Pavement-Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain
Basically the album that threw me into indie rock (along with the next entry). Pavement exemplified what it meant to be a cult band, and the combination of the band's lo-fi sound and Stephen Malkmus' obtuse lyricism goaded listeners into sharply divided love it or leave it camps. I'm in the love it category.


Pixies-Doolittle
Big ups to my old buddy Jeff for tuning me into the Pixies. It was on those early morning drives into high school that I stumbled upon Doolittle, and I was hooked from the first note. "Debaser" is still one of the coolest oddities in rock music, "Here Comes Your Man" is one of the best pop songs of the 90s and just about every other track on the disc beats the bag out of these wannabe hipster douchebags posing as indie rock nowadays.


Fugazi-Repeater
I came across Fugazi through Minor Threat, you know, that other unspeakably amazing band Ian MacKaye was in? MacKaye's music has always always been unwaivering and cocksure in its principles, but by the time he joined forces with Guy Picciotto, Brandon Canty and Joe Lally in Fugazi, the politics and music became so intertwined there was no discerning one from the other. They were a true band of the people, and no single album in the band's stellar repertoire championed that sentiment better than Repeater. From the opening echo of "Turnover" through such classics as "Merchandise" and "Greed," the band set a brazen and still unmatched standard for the DIY work ethic. They completely built up their own business model and made it work, touring economically, putting on $5 shows for their fans and stirring up some of the most staggeringly sincere and honest music the underground has ever seen. More than a band, they're a glaring example of how to live life on your own terms.


Dropkick Murphys-Do Or Die
"Do Or Die," the Murphys' proper debut and their first for Epitaph Records offshoot Hellcat, was less of an album and more of a rallying cry, and me and my buddies heeded the call upon its 1998 release. Nowadays the Dropkicks just aren't as sharp as they used to be. The songs aren't as strong, their street core edges have dulled some and they feel like a parody of their former selves. But looking at how borderline mediocre they've become has come to show just how great their early records were by contrast. The band who did "Do or Die" was an almost entirely different incarnation of the band we see now, a four piece instead of (how many guys are in the band now?). This was the band at their best: A balls to the wall, blue collar punk band from the hood with sinewy slabs of their Irish heritage smeared throughout the music. if you're going to listen to one DKM disc, this is it by a mile, showcasing the local legends at their peak. Listening to it just makes you proud to be from Boston.

Wilco-Yankee Hotel Foxtrot
I admittedly was late to the game when it came to Wilco. I knew of them for a while, but it wasn't until the summer of 2005 that I threw down for "Yankee Hotel Foxtrot." Crazy yet subtle, adventurous and other times calm, it's a record that pulls at you from a lot of different angles. And yet as a whole its a really cohesive listen. It wasn't long before I picked up the band's entire catalog, including the Mermaid Ave discs with Billy Bragg. Each one represents a band with a different identity, and I became a full on fan on the strength of their versatility alone. And they've got a new record coming out in June. Psyched.


Operation Ivy-S/T
I'm tired of writing at this point, so forgive me for phoning it in a bit. But this is still one of the best albums I own. I challenge you to find a more consistently enjoyable listen.

Pennywise-S/T
Pennywise, and this album, go in that aforementioned "comfort music" category. When I put together my first band with my buddies Seamus and Mike in 8th grade (Vehicular Homicide for life!). "Bro Hymn" was the first song we learned to play together. Those sort of memories are destined to keep a band close to your heart.

Singin' to a degree that you can't get in college

It's hard to believe it's been 20 years since the Beastie Boys unloaded their now landmark album "Paul's Boutique." Mike D, Ad Rock and MCA marked the occasion today by rereleasing the seminal 1989 disc on CD and vinyl. If you don't have it, get it. Now. Go.

Get it (back) together

The Onion AV Club recently polled its writers about the bands they'd give their right nut to see reunite after an extended breakup or hiatus. Like just about everything the AV Club does, it's a entertaining and insightful read. You can check it out at www.avclub.com.



To be honest, I tend to look on at reunions with my bullshit detector on full blast. Something about them doesn't sit well with me, and for a few reasons. Growing up, it seemed like the only bands reuniting were the ones that I personally didn't give a damn about anyway. When Garth Brooks hung up his guitar and laughably oversized cowboy hat for the first time some 13 or 14 years ago, I can't say I really cared much. I did, however, when he came out of retirement what feels like a dozen times. Ditto for Kiss, who at last count has had something like five reunion tours. Where's the excitement or spectacle in a band that breaks up and gets back together every other week?



Another bone I frequently pick with reunions is how most of them are doomed to fail to begin with. Everytime Van Halen is said to reuinite it spins people into a frenzy, but it's always a matter of time before they implode again, serving only to remind us why the band broke up to begin with. Rather than bringing anything new or refreshing to the table, these reunions too often reopen and pour salt into old wounds. And don't get me started about reunion albums, which are almost guaranteed to tank and tarnish a once great band's legacy even further. Simply put, if a band breaks up it's likely for good reason, and reunions should be approached with the same caution a five year old would a fence with a "Beware of Dog" sign. Enter at your own risk.



Those are my blanket criticisms and gripes with reunions in general, but I have to say there have been a few bands over the past few years who have managed to at least halfway restore my faith in the sanctity of reunion tours. When the Pixies got back together some 11 years after their initial split in 2004, I immediately disregarded all my reservations to catch them in Milwaukee my senior year of college. I was only starting to get into music at about the time the band broke up in 1993, so I was forced to catch up with them in high school. When I finally caught them on stage, I'm pleased to say they exceeded my already high expectations in leaps and bounds. They played everything I wanted to hear, "Debaser," Levitate Me," "Dig For Fire," you name it was there. They aged noticeably, and Frank Black looked disturbingly like Uncle Fester, but apart from that the show served as a model example of how to successfully do a reunion tour.



Seeing Dinosaur Jr. onstage again was another pleasant surprise, not only because of how good they sounded, but also given the particularly volatile nature of their original split. The cliff notes go something like this: J. Mascis was a control freak and a dick, and bassist Lou Barlow was often times the target of Mascis' hostility. The power struggle continued until Mascis dropped Barlow by the wayside, telling him the band broke up before continuing on without him with drummer Murph and a rotation of stand in players.



So when the original lineup announced its reformation sometime in 2005, I met the idea with equal doses excitement and skepticism. But then the reviews came in. They were great at Lollapalooza in 2005, seemed to let bygones be bygones and put out a reunion album (gulp) that rivaled its best work on SST in both intensity and quality. I was sold.

I first caught the newly reunited Dinosaur Jr. at the Paradise in November 2007. With PAs and speakers stacked what seemed like a mile high, the band tour through songs new and old, making for an hour or so of the most ear bleeding, mind numbing music I've ever heard. I was literally dizzy leaving the show.



The Pixies and Dino reunions were two huge steps toward softening my icy feelings toward reunions, enough so to make me ponder the AV Club's list a little further. What bands would I walk the Earth to see reform, even for a one off show?



Rocket From the Crypt

-It's only been e few years since San Diego's favorite son bid farewell on Halloween 2005, but a Rocket reunion couldn't come soon enough. Other Jon Reis projects such as the Sultans and Night Marchers have filled the void ok, and there's always Drive Like Jehu to crawl back to, but rewatching that youtube clip of Craig Kilborn proclaiming RFTC as the best live band in the solar system (moments before the band backed up the claim live on the Late Late Show in 2002) makes me hunger for teh real thing. For now, the closest I've come is seeing local boys the Appreciation Post do an all covers set of RFTC favs. It'll have to do.



The Clash

-They're the only band that matters, a bold claim but one the band lived up to ten fold. Still, there's no Clash without the late Joe Strummer, so this one seems dead in the water. We can dream, though, can't we?



Black Flag

-I probably wouldn't make it out alive, but I'd pull some serious strings to catch the Flag, "Damaged" era circa 1981-1982. That youtube clip of a crazed Henry Rollins beating the shit out of a fan in the front row with his microphone is still one of my favorite videos of all time.



Husker Du

-Kyle Ryan of the AV Club actually had the Huskers on his list, so I'll defer to him. But at this point it seems there's a better chance of smallpox resurfacing than these guys, as Bob Mould and Grant Hart continue to talk shit about each other in the press now 20 years after their breakup. Mould told me himself in an interview in 2004 that it would NEVER happen, but crazier things have happened.



Operation Ivy

-Most people would be lucky to land one great band, but Tim Armstrong has two to his credit in Rancid and Op Ivy. But as beloved as Op Ivy is there has scarecley been a mention or hint of a reunion since their breakup in 1987. There's no bad blood or ill will between the members (Armstrong and Matt Freeman still play together in Rancid), so it doesn't seem out of the question. And with Rancid having laid low for the past three or for years, it would have been nice to see an Ivy reunion of some sort to kill the down time.



The Kinks

-Enough said, but again, very unlikely. Hopefully Ray Davies comes around town soon because that's about as close as I'll get.

Long live the King

Don't click the below link unless you're wearing a diaper. Seriously. Dave King of the Bad Plus rippin it live behind  the kit.

Don't say I didn't warn you.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=j5vuYj2vjRY

Lux Interior RIP

                                                                                                                                                                                 

A quick note before I start rambling....

With the new gig I don't write nearly as much as I used to or would like to, so I'm going to try and make a post a day throughout the month of February to help restore my writerly balance.

I was saddened this morning to hear that Lux Interior, the iconic frontman for punkabilly pioneers the Cramps, has died at the age of 62. Reports say he suffered from a preexisting heart condition.

The first time I crossed paths with the Cramps came by way of Green Day, of all bands. My dad took my brother and I and our mutual friend Mike to a Green Day show at the then-Worcester Centrum in 1995, where the Cramps were booked as the opener. Despite their legendary status within the underground circuit, the band cut through a forty or so minute set to an indifferent audience who were clearly there to see the main event. Punk heroes as they were, most people spent their set with their arms crossed counting the minutes until Green Day took stage.

Admittedly I was in the same boat. I was still a novice to all things punk and underground, but I was intrigued by their camp take on the genre, almost like a punk rock "Rocky Horror Picture Show."

"Who are these guys," my dad asked.

"Don't know," I shrugged.

Just then a guy behind us leaned over and said "The Cramps. These guys are Led Zepplin compared to what you're gonna see tonight."

It wasn't until years later that I realized he was right. When I was a freshman in high school the Amazing (Royal) Crowns hit the Boston scene with a bullet, and I was hit, giving me my first honest introduction to rockabilly's bastard child punkabilly. From there I found other bands such as Reverend Horton Heat, the Horrorpops and eventually the Cramps. I never saw the band again after that Green Day show all those years ago, and days like today make me wish I was old enough to appreciate having seen them when I did.

Cheers Lex.

The influence of Sunny Day Real Estate (and how so many bands got it wrong)

  Sometimes rediscovering  a band or song is even better than the first fling.

It's not at all uncommon to tire of a song, band, movie, etc. after a period of extensive indulgence. Odds are that if you go at something too strong too quick that passion or connection you feel to it will ultimately die down. When my much overplayed copy of the Dwarves' "Sugarfix" CD finally kicked the bucket last month after 11 years and countless plays, I can't say I really miss it all that much, seeing as how I can pretty much play those songs vividly in my head at this point. The bottom line is overexposure kills everything.

But then there are those times where bands get a second wind after a period of decompression. Last night I made a stop at Newbury Comics to pick up the new Bad Plus record (which is regrettably unremarkable, by the way. Get "These are the Vistas" or "Give.") when something caught my eye while browsing. "Diary," the debut album from Seattle's prototypical emo band Sunny Day Real Estate, was on sale for seven bucks, so I grabbed it on a whim.

"Diary" is one of the many, MANY CDs I lost in college, but really I hadn't given it much of a thought until I saw it on sale. But within minutes of throwing the disc in my changer on the way back to my apartment, I quickly remembered exactly what it was that drew me to these dudes to begin with. The soft/loud dynamics and overall musical dexterity spoke of a band too angsty and tough to be weepy, but too honest and introspective to teeter into brute punk/hardcore territory. They were both whimpy art rockers and a muscular DC-style postpunk band, often times in equal strokes, and yet they made such polarizing styles coalesce into a sound that has proved to be massively influential. In fact, it looms larger now than perhaps ever.

That sound would best be categorized as "emo," a term that has had the living shit kicked out of it in recent years with its ill-fated association with bands like My Chemical Romance and Fall Out Boy and As I Lay Dying and (insert Victory Records/Vagrant Records artist here). When people think of emo today all they see is eyeliner and self loathing, which is sad because, like any other genre of music, it too came from a time and place that was a lot more humble and genuine.

Many credit the origins of emo back to DC. In 1983 (I think), the DC hardcore scene gave rise to Rites of Spring, an explosive four-piece featuring future Fugazi members Guy Picciotto and Brendan Canty. DC, especially during the early 80's, was nothing short of a punk rock breeding ground, but even among such an elite scene ROS were pretty remarkable. Hardcore, in spite of its dogged defiance of all things conventional and mainstream, was in itself pretty narrow minded and set in its ways. It was hard and fast, often times putting sheer attitude over aptitude, and if you weren't in line you could see your way the fuck out the door. Then came ROS, who with blinding energy and sincere songs marked by themes of fragmented relationships, pointed introspection, self doubt and alienation changed the rules of the game. They were loud but melodic, and while lyrically they ran deep into uncharted hardcore territory, it was their passion and energy that united them with the DC scene.

 

From there came others in their path: Grey Matter, Nation of Ulysses, Fugazi, Texas is the Reason, No Knife, Jawbox, etc. Sunny Day also owed a debt to their fore-bearers, but they were one of the first to truly give the emo brand some traction in the mainstream. As much a matter of good timing as anything else, "Diary" dropped on the ever popular Sub Pop label in 1994, smack in the midst of the alternative/neo-punk revival that saw many of the band's peers jumping ship for the majors (Sunny Day members William Goldsmith and Nate Mendel were both members of the Foo Fighters' original incarnation, with Mendel still a member). Yet crossover success eluded the band, and they broke up a few short years later.

Fast forward almost 15 years and many bands talk about Sunny Day Real Estate the way others talk about Husker Du, the Replacements and the Smiths. They did something ahead of the curve, and years later a generation of younger bands are giving them the nod for it. But it seems that so many "emo" bands have totally missed the boat. It's a genre that's been fed to the corporate sharks and watered down accordingly. Give and band a sad disposition, a 12 year old girl's haircut and a guitar and just brand the word "EMO" across their back. 

It's a joke now, which is fine. Maybe there's little the genre can do to save face, but fortunately we'll always have albums like "Diary" to remind us it used to be music that mattered.

http://youtube.com/watch?v=l2JSW7fcQlk