Kill the Queen

I found him: the single person who claims ownership of one of the worst musical mutilations in the history of the world—the live rock ’n’ roll travesty known as Return of the Champions, by Queen + Paul Rodgers. That person, as I was dismayed to learn the other night, is my spin class teacher (yeah, I get my rocks off wearing tight shorts and sweating on a stationary bike). And on that night he showed no shame (or mercy), only unbridled enthusiasm, in using arena-rock afterbirth as a means to motivate his troops: he allowed three songs of that shit rain down from the ceiling-mounted Bose speakers during the hour-long class. As if Queen with the flamboyantly histrionic Freddie Mercury wasn’t awful enough — hell, why wasn’t their music tossed into the coffin with Mercury’s rotting corpse and buried forever? No longer would our sensitive ear hairs be bulldozed by the high-decibel battering rams of “We Are the Champions,” “Another One Bites the Dust” and of course “We Will Rock You” at all kinds of public events—dog shows, football games, public executions. OK, there’s no dethroning Queen. Fine. But, Paul Rodgers and Queen? Who arranged this summit of shit? Have you heard the live album I’m talking about? Probably not. Hopefully not. Hopefully, we 15 unlucky pedal-pushers are the only ones (besides the thousands of stupid Brits who paid money to have their cheers recorded between songs) to have had our aural cavities violated by this crap. It’s enough to suffer on a bike. But to suffer on a bike while Paul “I Still Feel Like Makin’ Love But Require a Heroic Dose of Viagra in Order to Be Makin’ Love” Rodgers is pushing you up an imaginary hill farting out karaoke-style renditions of “Another One Bites the Dust,” “Crazy Little Thing Called Love” and “We Will Rock You” is dreadful and depleting. Lucky for us, we were granted a reprieve — instead of Queen and Rodgers, we cooled down to “You Don’t Bring Me Flowers.”

One footnote: I dropped in on Wikipedia for a little fact-checking. Curiously, the entry for Queen + Paul Rodgers does not credit my spin class teacher as the lone American owner of Return of the Champions. How could they have omitted this detail?

Atoning for My Sins: Mr. Ehrbar Regrets (part 3)

I regret...
...that when I was 12, I checked out the following LPs from the library: Cyndi Lauper She's So Unusual and Michael Jackson Thriller. Probably should have gotten a book or two instead.

Atoning for My Sins: Mr. Ehrbar Regrets (part 2)

I regret...
...including one of the all-time worst power ballads ever recorded, Guns N' Roses' "November Rain," on a mix tape I made for my girlfriend in 1992. I regret making said tape late one night at the radio station where I volunteered and using the mixing board and mike so that I could pipe in my clumsy, inept dedication to introduce this weepy butt-rock nugget. Although, I don't recall actually making a dedication; I believe I spent a few moments during the song's opening notes justifying "November Rain"'s merits on what was quickly becoming a musical abortion. Typical. Oh, how my cheeks burn in embarrassment just thinking about this. The story has a happy ending, thankfully; my girlfriend overlooked my mix-tape mistake and let me subject her to future tapes before agreeing to marry me and turning over an entire bedroom in the house we share to my vinyl collection.

Atoning for My Sins: Mr. Ehrbar Regrets (part 1)

I've done some pretty bad things through the years. Rather than talking to a priest, I thought I'd disclose some of my miserable misdeeds and missteps in this very space in an effort to unburden my guilty conscious, repent for my sins and perhaps earn some much-needed forgiveness. It takes a strong man to admit his mistakes and I'm as strong as they come. With that, I give you Part 1 in an ongoing serious of "Atoning for My Sins: Mr. Ehrbar Regrets."

I regret...
...that I counted myself a fan of the music made by Toad the Wet Sprocket, a cover band of the R.E.M. cover band, Guadalcanal Diary, in the early 1990s. Yes, I lapped up this cream corn of "college folk rock" as if it was precious protein that would sustain my existence and lead me to enlightenment. I purchased three Toad the Wet Sprocket albums, Bread and Circus, Pale and Fear, and was tempted to liberate the marble-vinyl promo copy of Pale from the radio station where I volunteered. (To my credit, I didn't jack it.) I draped an over-sized promotional poster of Fear on a wall in my bedroom at the college house I occupied in 1992. That same year I helped publicize (via radio) Toad's Spokane performance at the '80s hair-metal joint Gatsby's, which culminated in my appearance in the audience at said performance.

I don't know who or what set me straight, but some time around 1994 I orphaned my Toad CDs at the local used record depot and never looked back--for that I am not sorry. But I am sorry for briefly being enamored of this band's jingle-jangle crap rock. I was a victim of my own bad taste.

OK, No More 2009 Lists After This One. Promise.

Top 10 Records (Not Vinyls) of 2009 That I Really Wanted to Purchase, but Didn’t Cuz Money Had to Be Spent on Other Things, too, Like Bills, Clean Underwear and a Bathroom Remodel (Sigh)

I’m not ashamed of accepting handouts. Therefore, should you, dear reader, wish to purchase one of these platters that matter and pass it along to me, I’ll be in your temporary debt.

1. Sunn O))) Monoliths and Dimensions (Southern Lord 2-LP)
2. Tom Waits Glitter and Doom Live (Anti- 2-LP)
3. The Jesus Lizard Liar (Touch & Go LP)
-tie- The Jesus Lizard Down (Touch & Go LP)
-tie- The Jesus Lizard Goat (Touch & Go LP)
-tie- The Jesus Lizard Head (Touch & Go LP)
7. The Fiery Furnaces I’m Going Away (Thrill Jockey LP)
8. Russian Circles Geneva (Sargent House/Suicide Squeeze LP)
9. Blakroc Blakroc (Blakroc/V2 LP)
10. Death For the Whole World to See (Drag City LP)

My 2009 Hit List (part 2)

At last: Numbers 6–10 of...
The Top 10 Best Records/CDs/MP3s I Heard This Year (That You May or May Not Have) That Weren’t Necessarily Released This Year (Oh, and I Only Have Five to Share Right Now)

6. Fucked Up The Chemistry of Common Life (Matador LP)
This is one of the most invigorating records I’ve heard. If the band's moniker wasn't so juvenile, I bet more people would bask in the radiant fury of Fucked Up’s hardcore assault. Fucked Up is different from all the hardcore bands out there because they refuse to be handcuffed to its clichés. Sure all the hallmarks are present: adrenalized riffs, muscular sound, gruff vocals, punishing rhythms. But Fucked Up is more imaginative—and progressive. They have chops and can venture beyond the old 4/4 and are unafraid to deviate from formula: witness the moody ambient instrumentals or the use of congas and flute. Fucked Up also believe in song craft—they understand passion and conviction are wasted if the music isn’t memorable. And so what we get are 11 incredible chapters that comprise a sweeping epic. If you’ve yet to be consumed by the tidal onslaught of The Chemistry of Common Life, then do something positive for your personal well-being: Download the album’s explosive title track from iTunes (or someplace like that). Spend a buck. If “Chemistry” ain’t the accelerant you need to get you going, have someone call a paramedic for you.

7. Mastodon Crack the Skye (Warner Bros. LP)
My wife hates this album. She won’t let me play it in the car, in the house, or anywhere in her presence. She just doesn’t like metal, and she’s bemused that I do. So naturally, I kept Crack the Skye mostly confined to my iPod. No matter. Crack the Skye is Mastodon’s most overtly accessible album—it’s also the band’s most rewarding. Much of this can be attributed to Brendan O’Brien’s production as well as the band’s embrace of melody. Sure Mastodon unleash their vengeful wrath, but instead of simply setting you alight with a holy hellfire of molten riffs and roaring vocals, they keep you in their grips with melodic singing and stunning guitar heroics. My favorite track—and quite possibly my top song of the year—is the climactic sixth song, the title track, which features bassist/vocalist Troy Sanders and Neurosis’s Scott Kelly sharing lead vocals, simultaneously guiding the almighty Mastodon through the depths of hell and up toward the heavens, before physics rip their vessel apart, exploding it into nothingness.

8. Jawbox For Your Own Special Sweetheart (Dischord/DeSoto LP)
I don’t get all that nostalgic about the records I listened to at various periods in my life—especially those from the early/mid-1990s. As much as 2009 sucked, the yesteryears were far worse. So you might think I’d be apprehensive, then, to return vicariously to the scene of the crime by reacquiring the sounds that filled my miserable days of yore. Not so with Jawbox’s For Your Own Special Sweetheart. This album represented the D.C. band’s major label debut for Atlantic Records; and although the single “Savory” drew some airplay on MTV, the album didn’t do much commercially and eventually went out of print. Fifteen years later, Sweetheart is now in the hands of Dischord/DeSoto—the labels that launched Jawbox in 1989. It’s been given a new cover and an outstanding remaster from Bob Weston that’s fattened the bottom end, and is now ready for a new generation to gush over. I enjoyed this record in 1994, but I love it even more now. Sweetheart is crafty yet direct, maniacal yet restrained—it’s a noisy, melodic beast, one that bares its teeth of seething discontent but is not so angry and uptight to not offer some compassion and pleasure. Likewise, Jawbox temper their caterwauling guitars, lunging rhythms and sharp percussive jabs and bruising thumps with some delicious hooks (sorry for saying delicious). A solid, solid piece of work.

9. Cedric Im Brooks Cedric Im Brooks and the Light of Saba (Honest Jon’s 2-LP)
I’ve listened to a lot of reggae over the years, but I hadn't heard Cedric Im Brooks before November. And what a discovery. Brooks, who plays saxophone, led one a most unique Jamaican combos, one which drew from a variety of sources to arrive at its ecstatic inspiration: roots, rock steady, dub, nyabinghi, calypso, Afrobeat and free jazz—yes, free jazz. Brooks spent some time in the 1960s in Philadelphia seeking influence from John Coltrane among others. He got it all right and brought it back to Jamaica. No, you’re not likely to discern any Coltrane signatures in Brooks’ work. His approach sounds more like Sun Ra. It’s cosmic reggae and this anthology succeeds in creating a nice, clear portrait of the little-known virtuoso.

10. Donald Byrd Electric Byrd (BlueNote LP)
When Miles Davis got all high on electric jazz with In a Silent Way and Bitches Brew, lots of other jazzbos began toking from the same pipe. This is hard-bopper Donald Byrd’s contribution to the new vibration. I hadn’t heard this gem until this year, when I picked up a vinyl reissue of the 1970 album at a record shop. There is some wonderful stuff to trip out on with the lights out; all psychedelic and weird and not one bit gimmicky. Hard to believe Byrd would eventually put down the trumpet to become a dance choreographer.

Honorable Mention: Dinosaur Jr. Farm (Jagjaguwar LP)
Didn’t think they had a good record left in them. And then they had to go and prove me wrong. I’m OK with that. Favorite track: Lou Barlow’s “Your Weather.”

My 2009 Hit List (part 1)

So this year is as good as over. That’s all right by me. It wasn’t my favorite year. It wouldn’t even rate on my Top 10. Speaking of Top 10's, if you haven’t already had your fill of year-end top-10 lists, then I’ve got a little something for you to snack on. Over the next couple posts, I’m gonna share my favorite things of 2009 in good ol’ list form. For today’s post, I give you The Top 10 Best Records/CDs/MP3s I Heard This Year (That You May or May Not Have) That Weren’t Necessarily Released This Year (Oh, and I Only Have Five to Share Right Now).

1. Flaming Lips Embryonic (Warner Bros. LP)
The Flaming Lips have been making commercial music in recent years (I’ve seen at least four different TV ads using their music), but there’s nothing commercial about this effort. Most of Embryonic's 18 songs came together through spontaneous jams. And it shows—there are some solid grooves here that are immediate, raw, alive. But this is the Flaming Lips, remember—and as such their grooves are strange and contorted, as well as shaded with all kinds of weird noises and sounds. I love this record—because it’s so unexpected and gutsy.

2. Larry Young Lawrence of Newark (Perception LP)
This album was originally released in 1973, but it’s relatively new to my ears. Ever since having my aural cavities delighted by the trippy “Khalid of Space, Welcome Pt. 2,” I’ve been on the lookout for this album. So when I flipped to the LP in the jazz section of Portland’s Jackpot Records in November, I was elated. Lawrence of Newark is another one of those mind-blowing jazz records that came at a time when acoustic instruments were fornicating with electric ones and making sweet interstellar magic. This is psychedelic jazz on the cusp of fusion. But this one's more Sun Ra and Pharaoh Sanders than Headhunters or Weather Report.

3. Bellywipe Jello Tree Rough Mixes (unreleased demo)
This demo was recorded in 1994, but was finally disseminated to the Internets this year when my old friend David Hayes posted it on his Very Small Records Blog. Only one of these songs was released; the rest existed on but a precious few cassettes doled out by the band (I lost mine more than a decade ago). Bellywipe had a sound all its own: gritty, quirky, ragged, involved, smart. Back when I had a record label I wanted to put out a 7-inch for this band, but it never came to pass—Bellywipe broke up before I could come up with the money to pay for a record pressing. Give these songs a listen—the production quality ain’t the greatest; these are rough mixes of songs made digital from an old, low-bias cassette tape. If you can only listen to one song, point your clicker to “The Fucking Song That Made Us Famous.” Fifteen years later, I still want to engrave this thing into vinyl! (Download the entire demo here.)

4. Om God Is Good (Drag City LP)
God Is Good is Om mark 2, the first album sans original drummer Chris Haikus. Joining founder bassist and vocalist Al Cisneros is Grails drummer Emil Amos. But you won’t mistake this as the work of any other band—it’s pure Om. Brooding, undulating bass lines, vigorous, syncopated drumming and chanting vocals coalesce into repetitive, mantra-like grooves which wander a godforsaken scorched topography on an epic search for revelation. It’s spiritual drone music—as enchanting as it is entrancing. What’s different about God Is Good, however, is the inclusion of hand drums, piano, cello and sitar (the latter’s presence may sound like a cliché for drone music, but its addition is not unwelcome), further enhancing the music’s moody ambiance. (Download the God Is Good track “Cremation Ghat II” here.)

5. Obits I Blame You (Sub Pop LP) b/w One Cross Apiece (Stint 7-inch)
Rick Froberg’s adenoidal voice hasn’t aged much even if middle age makes itself right at home on his weathered face. His righteous scream does indignation and discontent better than most. I Blame You is relatively straightforward and less abrasive than Froberg’s ’90s work with Drive Like Jehu, and it’s not quite as frenetic and angry as early ’00s Hot Snakes. But it’s a satisfying and enjoyable collection from one of the leading voices in my record collection. The 7-inch single that preceded the album is pretty good, too, especially the ringing “Put It in Writing.” (Download three I Blame You tracks from here.)

Next time: albums by Mastodon, Donald Byrd, Cedric Im Brooks and more.