[Vinyl Vednesday is a weekly feature about three favorite vinyl finds. It’s not meant to be a dick-measuring contest, but it kinda is. E-mail pelonej1@gmail.com with your own big finds!]
Records: Herb Alpert’s Tijuana Brass’ Whipped Cream & Other Delights (1965) on black, Dave Edmunds’ Tracks on Wax 4 (1978) on black, and NOFX’s They’ve Actually Gotten Worse Live! (2007) on black.
Place of Purchase:Whipped Cream was purchased at the Impact! Thrift Store back when it was still located in the DekalbPlaza shopping center in East Norriton. Tracks on Wax was a gift from my Uncle Mike after I got my first turntable in high school. I bought They’ve Actually Gotten Worse Live! on vinyl at a.k.a. music in Philadelphia because it was $1 cheaper than the CD version even though the vinyl came with a CD anyway.
Thoughts: I pretty much bought the Herb Alpert record because of its iconic cover. Records are so cheap at the thrift stores in my area that, in the unlikely event that I find something of note, it’s pretty much an instant buy. Sometimes it pays off (my entire Pat Benatar collection cost less than $0.50), but most of the time I’m just diving through crates of old Christian LPs. eBay is the best way to find used records, but the price flux (other bidders, shipping and handling) makes hitting up the occasional thrift store worth the effort. Whipped Cream is pretty peppy. It makes my head go “yeah!”
My Uncle Mike was already pretty cool, but I feel like our relationship hit a new level once I got more into music. Once I got my first record player, he handed me a box of albums by Bruce Springsteen, Joe Jackson, Talking Heads, the Clash, and more. My uncle had a thing for well-crafted pop music, like Dave Edmund’s Tracks on Wax 4. It’s pure pop a la Elvis Costello or Nick Lowe (both of whom were in my uncle’s box as well), blending rockabilly, new wave, pub rock, and a touch of folk. Edmunds was never as big as Costello, but for a while he kept pace with him creatively.
NOFX takes shit from people (myself occasionally included) for not switching up their style often, but got-damn is their live show hilarious. They’ve Actually Gotten Worse Live! sounds like a big drunken party. The band tears through their shortest songs rapid fire simply to see how quickly they can do it. They play “What’s the Matter With Parents Today?” and then make fun of kids for wanting to hear “My Vagina.” And they stumble through incoherent stories. It’s a decent live record, and a great comedy album.
The Bouncing Souls finished their song-a-month project today with the digital release of "Never Say Die/When You're Young." The song, along with the previous two entries in the series, will be collected with a bonus track on a seven-inch come Dec. 15. That, in turn, will be last of fourvinylentries in the project. The 12 songs, without the vinyl bonus tracks, will be released on a CD entitled Ghosts on the Boardwalk sometime in January.
It's been a fun year for Souls fans. We got new songs every month, some swell anniversary shows, and a weird/funny variety show special. Which reminds me - when is that going to get a DVD release?
If nothing else, give Sick Electric credit for being somewhat eclectic. Sometimes the four-piece plays cock rock a la the Hives, sometimes they try out post-hardcore, and sometimes they go as quiet as they can. They also deserve props for choosing album artwork that fits their songs on Haywire. They’ve got titles like “Haywire,” “Concerning Gears and Girls” and “Marionette,” and they slapped a lady-robot on the cover. There’s a song called “My Love is a Severed Head,” and a picture of a dude holding a severed head on the back cover. It’s like Haute Tension! Inside the jewel case you’ll find a bloody hammer, perhaps a reference to “Heavy Hammer, Soft Brains.” So, kudos.
Where the band gets anti-kudos, though, is in their songs. The band tries too hard to show its range, resulting in a record that never coheres musically. Sick Electric’s lyrics aren’t too great either, often injecting humor or post-apocalyptic imagery for the hell of it. For example, try out the album-ending title track, a spontaneous surf rock jam whose sole line is “Shit’s gone haywire.”
There are some good ideas buried here – dig that synth sound on “Errors of Electrical Man” – but as is, Haywire sounds like a few friends fucking around. I’m sure these songs are fun to play, but the listening aspect needs work.
The back cover to the Olympic Symphonium’s More in Sorrow Than in Anger features a robot holding a monkey. Hell. Yes. The songs contained within are pretty good, occasionally evoking Jim James, both with and without My Morning Jacket, Wilco at their quietest, and that Canadian indie sound (Canindie? Canindien?) that’s been coming from up north for a while now. But seriously, there’s a robot holding a monkey. It’s like the future and the past getting all types of snuggly.
“You Win Some, You Lose Some” opens the 10-song, 39-minute full-length. It’s a brief instrumental that showcases the band’s M.O. – pretty acoustic guitar chords, twinkling piano, a warm feeling despite the sparse arrangements. The band repeats this trick nine more times with feeling (and vocals). “Intentions Alone” adds an alt-country element a la Nickel Creek, albeit in a much lighter way. The sound lends the record an introspective air, perfect for the transition from fall to winter.
If there’s a knock against the record, it’s that it can get repetitive after a while. It’s quiet and contemplative or bust, and while the band incorporates a few musical guests, the variety is still minimal. That’s not to say that any of the songs are failures, though. During my first listen, I found myself bored by the album’s midpoint. Having since listened to the tracks out of order, though, I’ve found that tracks five and seven, “Blood From a Stone” and “Dead Man’s Inn,” respectively, are my favorite songs on the album. Of course, that opens the band to another criticism: “Blood From a Stone” is not a Hooters cover. Oh well, no one’s perfect.
More in Sorrow isn’t exactly a party record, but it can make for a rewarding listen, especially when broken up into smaller segments. Songs like “Oh My Dear” and “Side By Side” have a gentle, twangy disposition, and a little bit of that can go a long way.
Check out Pitchfork.com for a free download of "Even Heroes Have to Die," off of Ted Leo and The Pharmacists' upcoming The Brutalist Bricks. The band's Matador debut drops March 9 (2010, the future!). The song's solid. It's not Leo's best work, but it's still Ted freaking Leo. That guy wrote Hearts of Oak but somehow has no ego about it whatsoever. I wish I could say I was going to hit up his show at the First Unitarian Church Dec. 2, but fate has conspired against me. By which I mean I've got training at my new place of employment, Whole Foods Market.
Since Nine Inch Nails is done as a touring unit, Trent Reznor is now selling a ton of equipment on eBay and old tour merch on his Web site. In other words, he's cleaning house. It'd be cool to get that NIN zip-up, but I'd rather have one of T-Rez's guitars. So, if you have lots of dollars, like thousands of them given how high the bidding has already gone, and an unhealthy love of Pretty Hate Machine, now's the time to make some financially questionable life decisions.
John Darnielle of indie/folk masters the Mountain Goats seems to have a fondness for Philadelphia. He writes for metal mag Decibel, which is printed in Philly. Goats drummer Jon Wurster is from the area. He commands a fanatic cult, but isn’t afraid to play smaller venues like the North Star Bar or local college campuses. And when he does falter live, as any human is bound to eventually do, he makes up for it tenfold. So, obviously, the guy was gonna put on a great show for fans when he hit the TLA Sat., Nov. 28 with Final Fantasy. That’s pretty much a given. But the exact way he would do it – mixing crowd pleasers and deep cuts, playing some songs astonishingly softly for such a medium-sized venue while also going louder than he ever has before – could never be predicted.
See, the Goats have a lot of songs. Fansite Themountaingoats.net counts 525. The band has such a wealth of tunes that Darnielle is able to pull out obscure songs whenever he wants, much to superfans’ delight. That alone ensures that most Goats shows are unique. Throw in the band’s tendency to perform songs with their tourmates, as well the Goats’ recent swelling to a four-piece with the addition of guitarist Perry Wright (The Prayers & Tears of Arthur Digby Sellers; check out The Mother of Love Emulates the Shapes of Cynthia sometime), and the uniqueness of each performance is that much more assured. Nov. 28 was no exception.
The night began with Final Fantasy, a.k.a. violinist/vocalist Owen Pallett. Accompanied by a guitarist/percussionist, Pallett crafted polyphonic wonders using his violin, a keyboard, and enough loop pedals to fight whatever apocalyptic future awaits us. Calling his music orchestral pop doesn’t sound quite right since A) we’re talking about a one-man orchestra, B) Pallett’s tunes have a lot of dance and pop elements, and C) dude is too funny to be pigeonholed. The guy’s classical background shows – he’s clearly talented – but he didn’t come off as pompous while discussing his music at all. Ditto for when he called out some obnoxious, talkative non-listeners, wryly saying, “Were you guys talking this whole time? I didn’t notice because I was so into the music.” Overall, Pallett put on an entertaining show. I anticipate his upcoming 2010 record, Heartland.
By Pallett’s own admission, opening for the Mountain Goats is intimidating given his fervent fanbase (of which I consider myself a member). Pallett’s set wrapped up by 9:50 p.m., and by 10:10 I was losing my patience. I needed a Goats fix. When the houselights dimmed at 10:15, the crowd, and me, collectively lost its shit. The Goats hit the stage and tore into…
Wait, I don’t know this song. How do I not know this song? I just listened to 18 hours of TMG tunes. I should know this song. Think, think. This song is so awesome, with its boisterous arrangement. Wurster looks like he’s having such a great time. They’re singing about handball. How many Goats songs are about that?
That’s right, the Mountain Goats opened with “Hand Ball,” originally from the compilation Our Salvation is in Hand, later compiled on the rarities collection Protein Source of the Future...Now!. They did it with a full band too, which shows how much Wurster has integrated into Darnielle and bassist Peter Hughes’ dynamic. Darnielle has always had a knack for loud acoustic ditties – have you heard “Cubs in Five?” – but Wurster and Wright pushed that aspect harder on songs like “Palmcorder Yajna,” “This Year,” and “See America Right.” “Romans 10:9,” one of the poppier songs from new album Life of the World to Come, turned out surprisingly, wonderfully heavy. It was perhaps my favorite performance of the night. Of the five times I’ve seen the Mountain Goats, this was their most rocking set.
Of course, an ebb and flow can do plenty for a live show. The Goats added softer songs like “Deuteronomy 2:10” and Life outtake “Enoch 18:14,” after which Darnielle went solo for a bit, knocking out obscurities like a so-far-unreleased cover of the Chiffons’ “One Fine Day,” “From TG&Y,” and “Song for Dana Plato,” all of which went over well with the crowd. After that, Darnielle went even deeper with “Going to Michigan” by the Extra Glenns, a band he was in with Nothing Painted Blue frontman Franklin Bruno. Pallett came out to play the guitar part from “Going to Bristol” on his violin, and it was good. Damn good. There was a bit of respect and nerd love between the two performers, as Pallett would come back for performances of “Hebrews 11:40,” “This Year,” and “No Children.”
The rest of the band came out to wrap up the regular set, concluding with rabblerousers “See America Right” and “This Year.” “This Year” gets a little bit louder and faster every time I see it live, which, given that it’s one of the most beloved, best TMG songs, is always welcome.
After a two-song encore of “Ezekiel 7 and the Permanent Efficacy of Grace,” which featured Hughes’ bass at its heaviest, and “No Children,” I felt ever so slightly disappointed. See, I interviewed Darnielle a little while ago via e-mail. He dodged a few of my questions, one of which was a show request for his cover of “Dirty Old Town,” as my girlfriend and I have a lot of memories attached to that song. Since Darnielle didn’t outright shoot me down, I wondered, nay hoped, that maybe he really would play the song. He didn’t. But then the band came out for a second encore and played a full band version of “The Best Ever Death Metal Band in Denton,” which is, scientifically speaking, the greatest Mountain Goats song of all time. Some people might say “Going to Georgia” (which I’ve heard live, suckaz) or “Going to Maine,” but those people are wrong, and perhaps even insane. The show opened to strains of Dio and closed with raised fists and shouts of “Hail Satan!” Decibel, and a lot of Philly’s Mountain Goats fans, would’ve been proud.
Thoughts: I pretty much bought the Herb Alpert record because of its iconic cover. Records are so cheap at the thrift stores in my area that, in the unlikely event that I find something of note, it’s pretty much an instant buy. Sometimes it pays off (my entire Pat Benatar collection cost less than $0.50), but most of the time I’m just diving through crates of old Christian LPs. eBay is the best way to find used records, but the price flux (other bidders, shipping and handling) makes hitting up the occasional thrift store worth the effort. Whipped Cream is pretty peppy. It makes my head go “yeah!”
My Uncle Mike was already pretty cool, but I feel like our relationship hit a new level once I got more into music. Once I got my first record player, he handed me a box of albums by Bruce Springsteen, Joe Jackson, Talking Heads, the Clash, and more. My uncle had a thing for well-crafted pop music, like Dave Edmund’s Tracks on Wax 4. It’s pure pop a la Elvis Costello or Nick Lowe (both of whom were in my uncle’s box as well), blending rockabilly, new wave, pub rock, and a touch of folk. Edmunds was never as big as Costello, but for a while he kept pace with him creatively.
NOFX takes shit from people (myself occasionally included) for not switching up their style often, but got-damn is their live show hilarious. They’ve Actually Gotten Worse Live! sounds like a big drunken party. The band tears through their shortest songs rapid fire simply to see how quickly they can do it. They play “What’s the Matter With Parents Today?” and then make fun of kids for wanting to hear “My Vagina.” And they stumble through incoherent stories. It’s a decent live record, and a great comedy album.
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