VIDEO: "THE KIDS ARE DEAD" BY THE PERFORMA-CHORDS

Another song pulled from the cassette tape vaults from our beloved garage punk heroes, The Performa-Chords. "The Kids Are Dead" is from 1981, and features Kevin on guitar, Dena on vocals and spontaneous lyric-making-upping, and -- *cough* -- some teenage goofball on Performa-Chord organ. Downloadable HERE for absolutely no money or other item of trade or barter value! Please to enjoy!



Lyrics:

Don't give me such a hard time
'Cause baby, all I ever do is try
I go to work at the factory
And you're never home waitin' for me


Is this what I live for?
I come home and I walk through the door
And the house is empty and the kids are dead
Oh baby, it hurts my head


Ouch!
Ouch!
Oh it hurts!
Gimme pain
I want pain
'Cause I'm Iggy Pop and I cut myself up


Oh baby.


"The Kids Are Dead," The Performa-Chords


MARGARET CHO VS. THE INTERNET

I've been thinking quite a bit about an article my friend Joe forwarded on Facebook today, which is always a sign to me that there is something more to explore or be expressed, at least in my little grindy-clicky head. Go ahead and click HERE to read this explosive piece by comedian Margaret Cho about some Twitter bullies she encountered, and be forewarned: there's nothing funny about it. I'll wait.





OK? A bit of a tough read, right? I'm left with conflicting feelings, though, and this is why: in imagining that she was speaking up for herself and every other spat-upon woman in the world, fighting back rather than backing off, shaming and chastising and threatening those in the wrong, she gave the bullies exactly what they wanted, and therefore, the 100% decisive win and enabled them even more to continue their cruel behaviors.


You have to understand what drives the bully, the meanie, the shitbird, in order to understand what I've said. What is it that they want when they take the time to slam someone viciously (and almost always anonymously) on the internet?

A MOMENTARY FEELING OF STRENGTH AND POWER FUELED BY THEIR ABILITY TO GET THE VICTIM UPSET.

Do not discount in any way what a huge and common motivator this is for people, and a lot of them, and not just Basement Boy Troll Losers. It could be just as likely that Cho's detractors are female, or have prestigious, respected jobs, or 3.5 angelic kids, or go to church every Sunday, and you might likely never have a single clue of how they really spend their time on the 'net. Let us also agree: bullies are as old as mankind; hell, there's even animal bullies. Whether it's fair or not, whether it's right or not, it doesn't really matter. You could form some kind of pink sweet cotton candy bubble society where all babies are raised with nothing but praise and compassion and THERE WOULD STILL BE BULLIES. All of nature runs on hierarchies, and some of those are pretty horrific and cruel, and some people are not going to have as good a run here as others. There will be kind people that come from the most desperate abusive situations and there will be sociopaths who arise from supportive and loving homes. This is reality. The bully will always be with us, even more now with the internet firmly in place as a place of vastly open, primary communication.

So now what? We are still left with a mess. Let's divide this one into three parts.

1.Just because we can't remove cruelty from humanity doesn't mean we shouldn't strive to make things better. First and foremost, we have to be accountable for ourselves. What might seem like casual ball-busting fun to you might really be hurtful to another. I'm not saying you should censor everything you say and do, but at least resolve to be more aware. Be the change, etc., and your actions are seen and multiplied, especially by your kids. And parents, boyfriends, girlfriends, spouses...maybe dip into the deep end into your loved one's online activities every so often, especially if you see "real life" emotional changes or secretive behaviors. You might be hosting a bully, and that's something you better deal with.

2. Bullies? We already know that you have problems. People who feel good and secure don't have this need to tear other people down. Understand this: your own personal issues and considerable weakness is laid out bare to the bone each and every time you attack someone else unprovoked, even though you think the complete opposite. If you keep at it and ramp up to making threats that are serious and credible, you can be located by law enforcement within seconds, even if you use a proxy. Internet privacy? You don't have it either, pal. I don't have to tell you that your shitbirding isn't very satisfying in the end. It's up to you to decide if your life has any value above that.

3. Margaret Cho, I am very sorry that you had such deeply traumatic things happen to you in your life. Cruelty against children is heinous and unforgivable, and I am sad that you suffered so much, and continue to feel such searing, fresh pain.

I am also going to tell you some other stuff. 

You are a grown, independent woman in your 40s. You have built a career millions would be thrilled to have. You are an attractive person, with a sharp wit and intellect. And you are going to literally kill yourself if you refuse to acknowledge that your unchecked anger is unproductive, a waste of energy, and actively harmful to your mind and body. Your rant in this case doesn't shame the bully; it strengthens him. It's exciting to see some famous woman lose her shit; he could care less that you are upset! He'll be more likely to do it again and again and again to other women because the payoff was so sweet: an article written about him! Win!

Think smart. There's healthy acceptance of your looks and then there's posting pictures of a massive tattoo on your ass. Why choose this? What response did YOU hope for? There isn't a person alive, man or woman, ugly or gorgeous, who is going to have EVERYONE LOVE THEIR ASS ON THE INTERNET. If you KNOW you are prone to rage over any kind of criticism about your appearance -- even an insult that is a slight 140 characters in length -- it's not wise to set yourself up for it. Save the tat butt shots for the people who love you in your private life -- NOT THE INTERNET. This may not be what you want, but it's what is. What is the need here you are trying to fill?

You claim you are hard and don't care, and that you accept yourself and are finally free. These are lies. You care a great deal, and if you truly and genuinely accepted yourself as worthy and beautiful, there are no outside criticisms -- especially from faceless strangers -- that could seriously shake that. Someone calling you "ugly" would hold no more weight than "you have purple skin and are from Mars." If something is known to you as absolute truth, some shitbird throwing a pile of words that do not resonante with you shouldn't matter past the hurt of someone attempting to make you feel bad. I cannot overstate this. When you really believe in your own worth, you own your power, and you are not going to continue giving it away to anyone who doesn't happen to like you. WHY CARE WHAT CRAPPY PEOPLE THINK ABOUT YOU? WHY? There is no gain. You don't WANT THEM. And you think any of your nasty words mean A THING to them? They don't, because they are not invested in your opinion. You cannot hurt someone who simply doesn't care. They just get off further on your flailing and attempts to strike back. I assume this is the opposite of what you intended to provoke.

If you want to help others that have suffered as you have, that is admirable, but you aren't ready. You can gather those who have been victimized and have a frothing anger fest or a weepy pity party, but you cannot tell people that they are loved, beautiful, and wonderful when you cannot at all truthfully claim you've given the same gifts to yourself. 

If you feel good about yourself, you aren't jealous of others who had or have love and kindness.

If you feel good about yourself, you don't burn with the need to wound or get revenge (see related above: Bullies).

If you feel good about yourself, you don't drag the painful ghosts of your past along with you until your dying day, blaming everything bad about your life on them, excusing you from your responsibility to move on and make a good life from all that you do have. I'm not at all saying you have to forgive your tormentors; in fact, I think it's a damn good thing to remember those who have done you wrong and never give them a chance to do it again. But stop giving them yourself on a plate forever. Move on, ditch the crushing, ruinous weight of bitterness and don't look back.



It's ain't easy, folks. It ain't easy.


GOATS #16

There is no reason whatsoever to not enjoy more loud goat videos. I find them quite therapeutic.



What I really love about this one is that the scene is like a family gathering. The little one is nonstop whining, the boys are fighting, and the old cock? Implacable, deaf, and/or possibly dead.

Loud Pygmy Is Loud




What's better than the sound of goats? Donkeys and goats!

Donkey and Goats




AAaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAHH! The kid on this video thinks this is great, and he's right.

Silly Goat





The girls video-ing ask if this goat is trying to throw up. If he did, with every one of his loud screams, and the goat vom projectiled out onto the fairgoers, I can't say that I would be displeased at all.

Oscar The Goat




This is Bit. He's a JERK! HAHAHAHA! Holy crap! HAAAA!

Screaming Goat



The person who uploaded this claims the noise this goat makes "sounds like a gay person." Now, I'm not down with stereotypes, but I will say this goat does remind me a bit of Rip Taylor. It just does.

Gay Goat?




And finally...The Man Yelling Like A Goat Yelling Like A Man!!! YES!




YOU'LL NEVER BE BEAUTIFUL IN THIS TOWN AGAIN: LANA DEL REY

Breakout indie singer-songwriter Lana Del Rey has been on my mind for a few months, as one of the most talked-about and polarizing new artists of 2011. I had heard her track "Video Games" before I knew a thing about her, and it caught my ear with vocals that are both sultry and shaky, old and young, cigarette-dirty and breeze-soar-y. Do I like her music? I think so. I think so. I know for sure I am intrigued, and look forward to her album release this year. But even more fascinating to me is the public's reaction to her, over the things I didn't know from just listening to her songs on the radio.

Miss Del Rey, born Elizabeth Grant in 1986, comes from a wealthy family and --- AND!! -- has actual supermodel good looks.

And this is why, past her music, there are guys professing crazy stalker-worthy eternal love for her on the internet, and the same number slamming her for being a manufactured talentless Rich Daddy fake. And it bugs me. A lot. The point of music is music, yes? Yet because she has what she has -- born with it, in fact -- she may never be taken seriously by those who equate beauty with vapidness or money with inevitable corruption. If she looked more like me, the average rock girl shlub in overpriced glasses and dirty Chucks, what would have happened to her music? Would anyone have paid attention, or would she have been more accepted, less criticized? If you look like that, you can't do anything to make yourself look a whole lot worse to appeal to haters unless you go on a prolonged meth binge, so you might as well work it, right? Why aren't women ever allowed to be everything that they are?

It's easy for me in my lofty postion over here on the Age Ladder to pat Lana on the shoulder and say, "Just you never mind any of 'em, girl, just do your thing." But I was once 25 and new, too, and I know those words would fall on deaf ears. She's going to have to struggle though her work and everything else about her being really popular as well as brutally trashed, and through the growing pains of working out live performance. I think she's taken ultimately poor managerial advice in not being part of a band, for the genuine support and collaboration of like-minded musicians can go a long way in calming nerves and building confidence. Mr. Manager knows he has a Hot Solo Artist to market, but if she cannot deal with everything that has happened and everything to come, he won't have an artist to market for long.

Again, on the radio, I heard her sing, this time live. And in the background, during a quiet part, the voice of a female crowd member yelling, with prolonged venom: "Fuck yoooooooooou!"












Lana Del Rey, "Video Games"


MEET THE 2012 GOP VOTERS


FURTHER ADVENTURES IN COMMENTS BY MISS NINE

(Ladies and gentlemen, the Comments of MissNine, within a 10 minute period this afternoon.)

MissNine: Mom, do you know what my two favorite things are?

Me: No, what?

MissNine: You, and cheese and pickles!

Me: That's three things!

MissNine: You expect me to get rid of pickles??

********************


MissNine: Isn't he really old?

Me: I think he's a few years older than I am.

MissNine: (drily) Well, I hope he doesn't have a stroke onstage or anything.

*******************

MissNine: (looking at today's mail) Mom! Look! The boat sent you a postcard from the Bahamas!

Me: What?? Oh, cool! (Bruise Cruise, which I am VERY excitedly covering in February, sent a funny postcard.)

MissNine: That's one smart boat. It also has very girly handwriting.


SONG: "MY SAD" BY NONEXISTENT SADWAVE BAND, ETERNITY COWL

So, my friend who is a knitter said she was making an "eternity cowl" and I said wow, that would be a great name for a miserable emo '80s synth band, and she said, wow, you should write a song for Eternity Cowl, and I said OK I will. The End.






My sadness
Never ends
My sadness
Is sadder than yours
My eyeliner is blacker
Than the blackness
Of my heart
My sadness and blackness
Is like
A really sad
Black
Something
Yeah

My sadness
Never ends
My sadness
Never ends
My sadness 
Never ends
My sadness
Is sadder than yours
My sadness
Never ends
My sadness
Never ends
My sadness
Never ends.



My Sad (by Eternity Cowl) by MarianneSp

THE PRESIDENT AND THE FENCE

Like many Americans, I think a great deal about our political climate here and the upcoming Presidential election. Unlike even more Americans, I am not doing that while watching some sort of television program featuring a Kardashian, a boorish and dimwitted New Jersey resident, or an attractive vampire. Maybe I should try that, for at least it would be a separate and numbing distraction to the increasing anger and frustation I feel about the governmental leadership that is failing us all.

The clown parade that makes up the GOP Presidential candidates this year would be humorous, if they didn't actually represent a decent chunk of American beliefs, which seem to be anti-gay, anti-black, anti-Mexican, anti-Muslim, anti-atheist, anti-anything-but-fundamentalist/evangelical/Mormon-Christian beliefs, anti-worker, anti-union, anti-intellectual, anti-education, anti-health care...on and on and on and on unti you GET WITH THE PROGRAM, which is of course My Way Or The Highway. To a man (and one freaky woman) they hold that Big Business holds all the answers to our problems -- our national saviors, the job creators, the Benevolent Kings! But if you believe that, you're on their payroll or living in some kind of American Dream fairytale white picket fence advertising campaign. If money and hateful discrimination are your real gods, vote Republican!

And now let's check out the other side. Why did Barack Obama win last time? Because George W. Bush was that bad, and a lot of people wanted to see someone very different come in to clean up the mess. It wasn't because Obama had scads of experience, because he didn't. He won despite the fact that he is half-black in a country that is still openly racist, has a name that is poison here in post-911 times, and was well-spoken and intelligent. Yes, that latter assertion was typed correctly; most Americans now prefer their leaders not to appear in any way "elitist" or "uppity" because it makes them feel more stupid than they are already. So, the smart "black" guy became President, running on a platform of "hope," which is always the last possible thing you can offer to the desperate, right?

Hope is so cruel. Of course, America wasn't going to stand for having a "black socialist librul" in house! The far-right extremists organized, backed by enormous amounts of corporate money, and did a fine job of pulling moderate conservatives to their side, wreaking total havoc on Obama's ability to change anything. They threw up roadblock after roadblock, nearly causing the complete shutdown of our government. There were wins for Obama, definite and large, but will his presidency be defined by them? I doubt it. Why? Because in trying to achieve his goals, he was convinced that he'd be the bigger man and make compromises, sliding to the middle to meet some of these one-track loons somehow, and of course that only led to failure.

As it's been playing out, political moderates are the great losers in 2012 America. Obama's removal from office was Job #1 of the far-right; they were never, EVER going to work with him or compromise. And Obama's deafening silence on THE political topic of 2011 -- Occupy Wall Street, the devastating effect of the Supreme Court's Citizens United ruling, and the manufactured income disparity that is driving more people into poverty every day -- is simply astounding. He keeps thinking if he wants to get re-elected, he can't do or say anything to further antagonize the right? Gotta all work together?

WRONG. So so so so devastatingly, horribly WRONG.

By staying silent as peaceful, lawful American political protesters were repeatedly pepper-sprayed, beaten with clubs, assaulted with sound cannons, and shot with rubber bullets by our own police forces, he failed us. Wall Street bailouts? Failed us. And signing the National Defense Authorization Act? Unforgivable. Obama, by trying to play ball in DC and politically abandoning many of the core values he claimed to hold, has accomplished something pretty scary: he's alienated a great deal of the people who voted for him four years ago, and cannot count on them now. Some of them are taking a hard look at the GOP front-runners and are jumping on Ron Paul's anti-Middle-East wars stance...without bothering to check out his other dangerous ideas. Other Democratic-leaning people, in droves, just won't vote at all, which leaves a huge possibility that The Worst President Ever In Our History, worse than Dubya!!, could get elected by default.


If you live in deeply polemic times, you have no business mucking about in the middle. Think about it: sitting on a fence just makes people wobbly and unstable with a picket post up their asses. If you are being treated as the enemy, stop making nice. TAKE A GODDAMN STAND. COME OUT SWINGING. Stop. Letting. Us. Down.

Will I vote for Obama in 2012? Yes. And if he wins and continues his fence-sitting, weak-character ways? I will be the first in line to sandpaper that picket fence post to a gritty point. Count on it.










THE WORK OF A JOB

(My dear son Mr13 is the sole member of the family who is not particularly into music or art. He likes creative stuff, sure, but he gets more into playing Minecraft and showing off his newly-gained paintball welt, which is just fine. Sometimes, out of nowhere, he comes up with some interesting insights.)

Mr13: Mom, have you ever done the work of a job but you didn't have the job?

Me: Well, hmm...what do you mean?

Mr13: Like you do things that help other people and it's hard work but you don't actually go to a job and get a bunch of money?

Me: Ha, I'm a parent!

Mr13: Ha ha! No, I mean like with your photos. You take photos of bands, but those bands didn't hire you to take photos of them, right?

Me: Right.

Mr13: Right. But you take the photos and they get published and the bands get all this cool free publicity, which helps them out a lot.

Me: (smiling) Yes.

Mr13: That's pretty nice, I think.

Me: Thank you, sweetie. I love what I do, even though it doesn't pay much.

Mr13: I know! You can tell.

MissNine: (interjecting) My hands are tight. I'm an artiste.

(Mr13 at the Flaming Lips, Puyallup Fair, 9/21/11)






LEFT TURN

It was a little over four years ago that my middle son and I were in a car accident, on a evening very much like this one, and like so many winter Seattle evenings: dark, driving rain, heavy, fast traffic. Turning left across two lanes of traffic, I was hit broadside by a white van. The impact spun my car around nearly 180 degrees, sending it towards an unprotected embankment, which would have been a drop of about 20 to 25 feet straight down. If my son hadn't screamed in terror, seeing what was ahead, and if I had not at that second put both my feet on the brakes with every ounce of strength I had, there is no doubt we would have gone over. Our car stopped four feet from the edge of the embankment, the front right wheel and quarter panel destroyed, askew. No one in either vehicle was injured, another piece of very good luck which I may, at least on our part, say happened because we were traveling in a Volvo and my son was sitting in the middle back seat.

No one was hurt, the Volvo was repaired and sold, the insurance companies paid what they said they would, and I got a new car.

And since then, every single day, sunny or rainy, busy or not-so-busy, some little subconscious voice pings in my head as I am getting ready to turn left against traffic, saying, "If you mess this up, or if anyone else messes this up, you and your kids could die here and now." The days go by; there have been no more accidents. There's no real reason to believe it would happen again. I often make the same turn at the same place where the accident occurred, in the same conditions, same time of night. I turn, nothing bad happens, and I go on down the road.

But...you know? It's still there, expressed in the floating anxiety, the tension in my jaw and shoulders, the vigilance that I feel if I choose to notice it. I think there's nothing much you can do to wipe out some kinds of trauma, and it doesn't seem to matter if it was a big trauma or a little one. Some things stick, and the best you can do is acknowledge it and try not to let it get you down.

It is good to see now, at the exact spot where my car skidded to a stop, there is now a black chain link fence, anchored by very sturdy poles.

(ragetoons.com)


I MADE YOU SOME VACATION POSTCARDS

In these tough economic times, we all have to tighten our belts a bit. It may be that this year you might be foregoing your usual expensive blowout vacation and instead will be enjoying a "staycation" at home or at the Route 83 Motel with a flashlight that you can also use as a blunt instrument, with a guy you met at a Stuckey's called "Smokes." In that case, I have carefully prepared a few vacation postcards that you can print on card stock and send to all your friends and relatives to make it seem like you are having the time of your life anywhere else but your Diet-Pepsi-stained couch. They will be so shocked to get actual mail from you that they won't even look at the postmark, I promise.











AUSTRALIA! WHO KNEW?

(I call MissNine over to the laptop to watch a viral video of a pet rat riding on the back of a pet capybara in a swimming pool. I say nothing at all about it.)

MissNine: Oh my god! What is that? Oh my god, that's a mouse on a huge THING! You can't have that in a swimming pool! Oh my god, they must live in Australia because Australia is only made from CRIMINALS!!

********************



Marianne's Very Short Australian Pronunciation Guide:

snake: snike

shark: shack

deadly: Diddley

mate: mite

left: lift

Australia: Ass Tray Leah

********************




Also, in Beerwah there is a Giant Mower to mercilessly taunt crocodiles.



********************

The Huntsman Spider, very commonly found in Australian homes and cars, is very quick, can leap great distances, and can grow to have a legspan of 10 to 12 inches. You're welcome.





********************

The Australian Wombat takes square craps.



********************

A popular brand of ice cream in Australia is "Gaytime." No joke -- this commercial from the '80s is completely...straight.





********************

And finally, mite, celebrate 2011 Australia Day like a native: here's footage from the opening of the Annual World Cockroach Races, complete with hot chicks and bagpipes.


THE SUMMER OF '79, THE CARS, AND A COLOMBIAN COVER BAND

Ah, 1979. When I think back on that year now on this first day off 2012, my memories jump very quickly to that summer, largely spent plotting and planning how to see more rock shows, how to get moremoremoremore records, playing my guitar, and reading rock mags. I was able to finagle more freedom and independence from my parents and my minuscule town. Traveling to Chicago with a bizarre woman twice my age on an overnight trip to see the Kinks was a hard sell to my parents, let me tell you, but I ended up going. Of course I did!

I don't know if it's such a thing now, but back then it was a big deal when the summer record releases came out, often right as school was finishing up in late May or early June. These would be the songs you would hear on the radio everywhere you went for those months, driving around, at parties, hanging out at home, floating in the air. Whether you liked them or not, that's what you got, because at that time radio was pretty locked down and AOR-focused, there was no MTV yet, and of course no internet.

One of the big summer records, which I bought the day it came out, was the Cars' "Candy-O." Their self-titled debut LP had come out of nowhere the year before to massive success; a hit with a wide range of rock fans, from the Bloaters to the New Wave kids. I was a little reserved in my assessment of them at the time, because as much as I knew they were all excellent musicians and extremely good songwriters, I found their clean, slick record production and distant stage demeanor rather chilly. I appreciated everything they did, liked it, played the hell out of "Candy-O" on my RCA stereo, but I couldn't love them like I loved the Beatles and the Kinks.

So imagine my surprise when, as I was digging into my sonic archives and replayed "Candy-O" for the first time in many years, I felt far warmer towards it now than I did then. Perhaps it's nostalgia, sure. But I think one listens with a different mindset, different ears later in life. The same lyrics take on other meanings, the music heard now in a vastly changed environment, all those years of life experience poking in on the deal. My favorite song on "Candy-O" was, and is, "Since I Held You." I can remember picking the needle up off of the record over and over again to replay the song, and I bet that if I examined the LP I might find some nicks and pops in the track's opening groove. I love all the bits and pieces of this song, fitting together in this almost music-box precision and mechanical lope, the little searing perfect guitar lines from Elliot Easton zipping in and out.

I went on over to YouTube to see if I could find a live version of it by the Cars from 1979, which I did, but I found one more, by a Colombian group named Crash, performing a nearly note-perfect cover on the TV show "La Telediscoteca." There is just something about this that completely fascinates me, from the Spanish accent to the dedication to detail to the mullets and baseball shirts, to the now-artistic-looking destroyed video and audio quality. I feel like I could step in through the screen, be instantly transported into black-and-white blurry shreds, wearing my Kinks' "Low Budget" baseball shirt and my own terrible mullet, 17 years old and ready to just...go.


Milwaukee Arena, August 12, 1979





PEOPLE LIKE LISTS: MY FAVORITE NEW MUSIC OF 2011

OK. You. Yes, You. I am talking to YOU. You who whines that there's no good new music out there. I'm here to tell you that you are a silly person and that you should stop being silly right this minute and take a moment out of your end-of-year reflection/whining time and view one of the very many LISTS being made about MUSIC this year. I don't think there's a much better gift than discovering Your New Favorite Song, so if somehow I might pass on to YOU some of the sonic coolness that reigned allllll over me in 2011, I find this worthy and mega-sweet.

The Rules:

1. There is no "best." What I like is what I like, music is subjective, ride along if you dare.
2. Some bands, I find consistently, are markedly better in live performance than on record. That would make a different list.
3. All my selections had to be new new music -- no re-releases.
4. There were lots of single songs I liked as well, but I stuck to full albums or EPs here.
5. I used a foolproof measure to figure my favorites, which was the number of plays all the 2011 albums received on my iTunes. These are the ones that I kept coming back to again and again.
6. So this post doesn't ruin your scrolling finger, I limited my selections to 13.

This year, my favorites in 2011 fell mostly into two categories: classic low-fi garage rock and shoewave/chillgaze/whateveryouwannacallthat, with some rogue outliers. I believe this sums up my personality pretty well: a damn punk who enjoys dancing, sleeping, and thinking about weird stuff. Let us begin with our orphan category:

THE ROGUES:

Wilco, The Whole Love (dBpm Records)














A greatly-anticipated record from those lovable Chicago moptops and their first on their own label. Call it eclectic, call it schizophrenic, or just call it Wilco doing their thang. Tweedy and Co. range all over the place, from crunchy noise blasts to lazy cabin country to songs that would make for good orange juice commercials with bizarre lyrics.

Wilco, "Sunloathe"





Black Joe Lewis & The Honeybears, Scandalous (Lost Highway)


















Old-time roadhouse soul/blues review infused with humor and high energy = sure-fire fun. If you can't get your groove on to this, you are dead and should have someone read your will already.

Black Joe Lewis & The Honeybears, "Mustang Ranch"




PJ Harvey, Let England Shake (Vagrant )


























One of 2011's earliest releases, and it still remains for me over these 12 months just a stunning work in its depth and humanity. Harvey has again made a meticulously-crafted piece of art that requires thoughtful attention, and its focus on war and loss makes it not a casual listening experience. Her use of the autoharp brilliantly weaves a dreamy, folky softness into a lyrical landscape littered with ruined lives, keeping you off-balance and completely mesmerized.

PJ Harvey, "The Words That Maketh Murder"




THE GARAGE


White Fence, "Is Growing Faith" (Woodsist)


























Another early fave of 2011, and my Toppermost of the Poppermost (along with Black Lips). Why? Because Tim Presley makes the kind of record that is this crazy mix of everything I ever heard and loved, pushed through a '65 Dodge Dart AM radio speaker. This includes the sound of weird '60s commercials, skipping records, nursery rhymes, go-go discotheques, and Saturday afternoon monster movies, even though none of those are actually on the record. Dig?

White Fence, "Sticky Fruitman Has Faith" (video by yours truly)



Thee Oh Sees, Castlemania (In The Red)


























It doesn't come any crazier or low-fi-e-er than Thee Oh Sees, which of course I find completely endearing. Past the manic garage smash, there's a disturbingly glorious sense of old and distorted innocence. Think Bozo the Clown drunk and singing to toddlers for quarters in Haight-Ashbury.

Thee Oh Sees, "Stinking Cloud"



Black Lips, Arabia Mountain (Vice)


























What a blast! Mark Ronson's production perfects the Black Lips' sound, making it warmer and cleaner while losing nothing of the punch and grime. All the songs are tight, danceable, singable, and drunkable. Solid Solid Solid Fun Fun Fun I Say Say Say. I play this ALL THE TIME.

Black Lips, "Modern Art" (I also made this video, prior to their official one. Sue me, I like it better.)




Jacuzzi Boys, "Glazin'" (Hardly Art)


























You can totally feel the sand and sun, bikinis and sweat, hopeful crushes and young lust here from SoFla's Jacuzzi Boys, even though the songs were recorded in Michigan, which is not known for any of those things other than maybe lust. Maybe. If I could remove Katy Perry and Lady Gaga and Ke$ha from all teenage girls' musical libraries and replace it with this, I would, and we'd all be better for it. Gabriel Alcala's sweet punky puppy whine will follow you home, and you will totally end up feeding it and buying it biscuits and forgiving it peeing on your Drake CD.

Jacuzzi Boys, "Vizcaya" (can you tell I made this video, too?)




Ty Segall, Goodbye Bread (Drag City)


























Young Master Segall once again comes up with more grinding guitar and sexy sinewy melodies to rock out your garage. This time, the pace is slightly slowed, infused with a hazy California psychedelia from the very short period when hippies were flower-power cool and not dirty-footed matted-hair sleazeballs selling you oregano in a baggie. Ty's appreciation of rock history is evident, but never overly reverential. He's funky fresh.

Ty Segall, "You Make The Sun Fry"



Broncho, Can't Get Past The Lips (Cop Friendly Records)


























A last-minute but VERY enthusiastic addition to an awesome garage year for me. These guys (including Ryan Lindsay from my beloved Starlight Mints) deserve far wider exposure for this hothothot record which just BURNS through on energy, smart, funny lyrics, great low-fi production, and its way of causing an irresistible urge to sing along and pogo until your eyes bleed. That's a good thing, by the way.

Broncho, "Try Me Out Sometime"




SHOECHILLGAZEWAVE, ETC:


Washed Out, Within & Without (Sub Pop)


























Evocative and lush, for me this album is the sound of looking back and hearing echoes of days long past, imperfectly recalled through filters of time, distance, change, and unfinished business. Its careful construction and measured beats hide a quiet voice underneath, machine over man, reason over emotion, endlessly swirling and contradictory.

Washed Out, "Amor Fati"



Atlas Sound, Parallax (4AD)


























Again, I shake my head with a bit of awe about this guy. Bradford Cox is so prolific and so very talented. He deals with more difficulties than you or I will likely ever have to, and yet time and time again, he makes the most beautiful songs, sweetly complex, soaring like a bird on an endless current of air in the sky. He's peerless, really.

Atlas Sound, "Terra Incognita"



Quilt, Quilt (Mexican Summer)


























Ooh, I just lovvvvve this debut album by Quilt with its gorgeous harmonies and laid-back late '60s San Francisco vibe. Tremendously listenable, with enough quirk to spark the brain and enough smooth to soothe. It's a gem, and I think a lot of different kinds of music fans would dig it.

Quilt, "Cowboys In The Void"



Kurt Vile, Smoke Ring For My Halo (Matador)


























First off, I don't know how you could not love a guy whose real last name is indeed Vile. Secondly, Kurt writes songs that are both atmospheric and grounded, so pretty and singable yet totally rocking live. He has a lovely feel for melody, and adds a bit of '70s classic pop in the mix without being too self-consciously retro. He also has amazingly lush hair.

Kurt Vile, "In My Time"



So that's it! I hope you found something to add to your collection, but more importantly, took a moment to remember that music is powerful stuff. Use it for good, kiddies. Happy 2012, and thank you to all the wonderful musicians featured here. Y'all's awesome.