myPod: Fr-Fu

[myPod is a biweekly attempt to edit down my CD collection as I import my music on to my brand new 160 GB iPod.]

Franz Ferdinand

I only like one Franz Ferdinand album, but it’s not the one you’re thinking of. I hated the group’s breakthrough eponymous debut; the tunes were so repetitive that they sounded like 30-second jingles stretched out to three minutes. Two years after its release, I’m kind of burned out on the dance-punk of Tonight. You Could Have It So Much Better, however, remains a must-have in my collection. It’s their most muscular record, owing a great debt to The Kinks’ for its sarcasm and brawn.

Verdict: Sell some, keep some.

Freaks and Geeks Original Soundtrack and Score

Maybe I just came of age at the right time, but Freaks and Geeks, the My So-Called Life of my generation, meant a lot to me. I was the same age as Sam Weir when it aired, and I identified with every young character on the show on some level. As soon as the soundtrack dropped, I bought it. While I was already into some of the bands (The Who, Joe Jackson), it also forced me to reconsider artists like Joan Jett and Rush. As a fan, I obviously have a strong emotional attachment to Styx’s “Come Sail Away” thanks to the pilot episode, but my favorite track is probably a sloppy/silly performance of “Jesus is Just Alright With Me” between Nick (Jason Segel) and Millie (Sarah Hagan). It’s really, really cute.

Verdict: Keep.

Lars Frederiksen & The Bastards

Believe it or not, The Bastards are what got me into Rancid. My friend Tim gave me two records for consideration in high school: Rancid (2000) and the self-titled Bastards LP. I wasn’t keen on Rancid (I’ve come around since, but I still prefer the Clash-leaning ’90s records to 2000’s hardcore reboot), but that Bastards record really turned my head and, along with Strike Anywhere, got me to shift away from pop-punk and explore the more discordant side of punk. Bastards has all the hits: “Dead American,” “Campbell, CA,” “Army of Zombies,” “Vietnam”… I could go on. The first album is genius. Viking, on the other hand, not so much. There’s always been a certain amount of fronting in the Rancid comp, but Viking tries too hard to sound tough. It can’t be a coincidence that the album came out not long after rumors started that Frederiksen was gay. Just saying. Anyway, my college roommate Eric and I had a blast making cracks about tunes like “Switchblade.” We both love Bastards unironically, though.

Verdict: BRING ON THE DAYS OF WINE AND ROSES.



Fridge

Someone sent me a reissue of Fridge’s EPH for free. I think it was No Idea. It’s somewhat experimental post-rock, it’s not bad, and I could see somebody doing a great job rapping over it, but I haven’t listened to this album since I got it and I don’t remember any of the tunes. That’s not a good sign.

Verdict: Sell.

Fugazi

Ian MacKaye has been an idol of mine nearly a decade now. It started with Minor Threat – so primal, so straight edge – but once I heard Fugazi’s 13 Songs, I knew which one of MacKaye’s bands was my favorite. To this day, the first three Fugazi records remain my top three, in order of release. 13 Songs, which is technically an EP collection but whatever, took hardcore, indie rock, and reggae and turned it into what we now call post-hardcore. Whatever you call it, it’s essentially discordant music with rhythm, and that’s exactly what’s missing from most punk bands outside of The Clash. 13 Songs the best Fugazi gateway, if for no other reason than it opens with “Waiting Room.” The tune slinks and snarls. Repeater, released a year later, sounds like a victory lap.

It was with Steady Diet of Nothing that Fugazi started to transform. Diet still has a foot planted in the Songs/Repeater mold, but it’s also slower and more discordant. “Reclamation” has always been my favorite track. It’s a punk mission statement (“These are our demands: We want control of our bodies”) about defining one’s own morality. MacKaye always pushed people to think for themselves, and “Reclamation” is the most direct expression of that sentiment since Minor Threat’s “Straight Edge.”

From there, things get weird. I love Red Medicine, which is uglier, and End Hits, which is more indie, but compared to those first three albums, they don’t get as much play. Same goes for The Argument. It’s the last Fugazi album, and it would sound like a different band altogether if End Hits didn’t serve as a bridge. Argument is a lot quieter and slower, content to explore ambience and rhythm over loudness. It’s undeniably good, though, as is the accompanying EP Furniture + 2. Instrument, an oddities collection meant to supplement a documentary on the band, is the least essential, but it’s still ’gazi. The group wrote of the best tunes of the ’80s and ’90s, self-released them, and then toured the world on their own, well before acts like Radiohead and Smashing Pumpkins started doing the same thing on the Internet.

Verdict: Keep.

The Fugees

That’s right; I listen to rippity rappin’ music. The Score is a fine record, one I have celebrated time and again. I’m not going to act like I know squat about diddily here, but The Score is a chill rap record with some big hooks and a massive pop cultural index ranging from martial arts movies to Marvel comics to countless TV shows. Hindsight is 20/20, but I think Lauryn Hill so clearly defines this group, even though at the time folks heaped praise on leader Wyclef Jean.

Verdict: Keep.



Further Seems Forever

I’m always going to be a little emo, but just like with Dashboard Confessional, I think I’ve outgrown Chris Carrabba’s other band. Too many slow tunes; not enough pep.

Verdict: Sell.

Future Soundtrack for America

Long ago, in the year 2004, I really, really hated President George W. Bush. That hate has always kind of stayed with me, but 2004 meant a lot to me, given that it was the first election I could vote on. My vote didn’t get much done, but I still show up at St. Helena’s every time, hoping to balance out all the wealthy, white Republicans. Anyway, in 2004, there were two compilations released that I hoped would help motivate lazy young people to “rock” the “vote.” One was the two-part series Rock Against Bush; the other was Barsuk Records’ Future Soundtrack for America. It didn’t work, but at least I got some quality tunes courtesy of Jimmy Eat World, Nada Surf, Death Cab for Cutie, and Sleater-Kinney (They actually double-dipped on the comp-only “Off With Your Head” for Future and Rock Against Bush). While roughly half of the comp is of the dull indie/folk variety, there are enough original contributions that I feel compelled to hold on to this disc. That, and my hate.

Verdict: Keep.

NEXT TIME: G is for... good hardcore, girl-fronted alt-rock bands, and glorious side projects.

myPod: Fo

[myPod is a biweekly attempt to edit down my CD collection as I import my music on to my brand new 160 GB iPod.]

Ben Folds

While I’m sure he’s gotten this comparison constantly over his career, it wasn’t until his third divorce that Ben Folds truly became the alt-rock Billy Joel. The angry piano man has written some beautiful tunes (“Brick,” “The Luckiest”) and some funny ones (“Rockin’ the Suburbs,” “Underground”) just like Joel, but it took leaving his third wife, Frally Hynes, just a year after thanking her profusely in 2005’s Songs For Silverman, for their yoga instructor that he became like Joel – a pop genius that consistently fails his loved ones.

I have a hard time listening to musicians I don’t like as people. Once they pull some shenanigans, it’s harder for me to break through (My Who fandom never recovered after Pete Townsend got busted for child pornography, for example). But Folds has written a lot of great songs (some of them were with his ex-wives!). He rose to prominence on the strength of Ben Folds Five’s first two records, which combined wiseacre humor with freewheeling jazz, funk, and rock bursts. They’re the most fun Folds has ever been. The final Five album, The Unauthorized Biography of Reinhold Messner, marks a sharp turn towards the somber songwriting that has since dominated Folds’ solo discography, but I like it overall.

Folds’ solo career has been patchy, but I generally enjoy everything he did up through Silverman. Rockin’ the Suburbs got a bad rap because of the novelty of the eponymous track, but “Zak and Sara” and “Annie Waits” are catchy as heck. Folds released a trio of EPs in between Suburbs and Silverman, and they’re most notable for the quality of their covers (“In Between Days” by The Cure, “Get Your Hands Off My Woman” by The Darkness. There’s a name I haven’t heard in a while). Silverman is consistently adequate throughout. I have no major complaints about it, but it pales compared to Folds’ previous work. I think I’m gonna sell this one. Way to Normal, the 2008 follow-up, sounds like a stilted “fuck you” to the wife he abandoned, so I don’t like that one much.

Verdict: Keep, aside from Silverman.

Foo Fighters

No one ever seems to mention that Foo Fighters is essentially the most successful super group of the last 20 years. Instead, everyone mentions that frontman/guitarist Dave Grohl played drums in Nirvana. But if Nirvana had been just a little less popular, it would be easier to lump that group in with Sunny Day Real Estate, The Germs, No Use For a Name, Me First and The Gimme Gimmes, Coheed and Cambria, and Alanis Morissette (Ya know what, I’m gonna throw Dennis Wilson from The Beach Boys in there too. Drummer Taylor Hawkins did great work on his Pacific Ocean Blue reissue). Foo Fighters are a solid alt-rock band made up of diehard music fans.

But they’re also possibly the most popular/derided second act bands of all time. Not since maybe Wings has a group sold so many records only to still be held captive by previous successes. Part of that problem is legacy; part of it is that Foo Fighters have always been a little more vanilla than Nirvana or SDRE.

But things started off great. Foo Fighters was an agreeable slice of indie rock. While none of the tracks sparkle like its follow-up, The Colour and The Shape, the album contains no duds. I realized recently that it might actually be my favorite Foo release at the moment, as it’s consistent throughout and none of the tracks are overplayed. Colour is still a mighty fine album, and it contains most of the band’s best songs (“Everlong,” “Monkey Wrench,” “Walking After You,” etc.). It’s a big fun rock record, but it’s also the album the band has spent the most time reacting against (There is Nothing Left to Lose) or trying to recreate (In Your Honor, Wasting Light). Thanks to failures like Wasting Light, it’s harder for me to distinguish what makes Colour so great.



Still, the Foos’ later years were solid. Lose is a little too bogged down by ineffectual pop rock (“Learn to Fly,” “Breakout”), but One By One is a great set of slinking, grooving rock ‘n’ roll. In Your Honor, a double album meant to deliver an electric and acoustic set in the hopes of encompassing everything the Foos do well, is a little bloated but still solid. “Best of You” might be better than “Everlong.” “In Your Honor” has one of Grohl’s rawest vocal takes. The acoustic set is good too; there’s breezy fare like “Cold Day in the Sun” and “Virginia Moon,” as well as the contemplative “Razor.” “Friend of a Friend,” about Kurt Cobain is powerfully intimate. As far as I know, it’s the song Grohl has released that comments on his time in Nirvana, and it’s a doozy. But after Honor, the band stumbled. Skin and Bones is a neat acoustic set, but Echoes, Silence, Patience & Grace and Wasting Light floundered in loud, dumb rock hell.

Verdict: The essentials, then, are Foo Fighters and Colour. There is Nothing Left to Lose can split, but One By One and In Your Honor can stay, even though my copy of Honor has this stupid copyright protection that won’t let me play it on my computer. Skin and Bones is neat but a little dull in the middle. I bought Greatest Hits because I like the Tom Petty-ish original track “Wheels;” it’s something of a guilty pleasure, but I wish the set picked better songs. I like “Stacked Actors” a lot, but it’s one of the few highlights on Lose. I’m sad to pass it on, but not so sad that I’m going to stop myself.

Forgetting Sarah Marshall Original Soundtrack

Given that Forgetting Sarah Marshall is one of my favorite movies, obviously I picked up the soundtrack not long after seeing the film for the first time. It’s got some choice cuts from acts like Cake and Belle & Sebastian, but the real winners are the original tunes, performed by stars Jason Segel and Russell Brand. Segel’s lonesome piano ballad “Dracula’s Lament,” in which Dracula longs for love, has the perfect blend of silly and sappy, but “Taste for Blood” is pretty good too. Brand’s faux-band, Infant Sorrow, gets in some choice songs that manage to parody every rock band from the last 30 years.

Verdict: Keep.

myPod: Fl

[myPod is a biweekly attempt to edit down my CD collection as I import my music on to my brand new 160 GB iPod.]

Flaming Lips

While they spent the ’80s playing goofy psych-punk (like The Meat Puppets but weirder and louder), it wasn’t until the ’90s that The Flaming Lips entered my worldview. Specifically, with the Batman Forever soundtrack tune “Bad Days,” from Clouds Taste Metallic. It’s a funny, quirky, catchy tune about hating life. For a while, the Lips burned with songs like these, which combined humor and loud, searing rockitude. I’m a big proponent of Transmissions From the Satellite Heart for its thunderous low ends. You can tell these guys love Black Sabbath.

While I’ve never bothered with Zaireeka – an album consisting of four discs meant to be played simultaneously – The Soft Bulletin marks the true departure for the band, as their sound became refined to a spacey pop orientation. This was further cultivated on the sci-fi leanings of Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots and its associated EPs (Dig that B-side “Thank You Jack White (For the Fiber Optic Jesus That You Gave Me)”). While I haven’t been that impressed with the band’s post-Yoshimi output, I’m a big, big fan of Christmas on Mars. Watching it has become an annual tradition around the holidays, and the screaming, psychedelic, quasi-orchestral score suits me fine.

Verdict: Keep.

The Flatliners

As excited as I was by Cavalcade last year, I still feel like I underrated The Flatliners at the time. That record dishes out raw punk rock with the occasional dub influence. I felt then and now that it was a record tailor-made for me, so much so that The Flatliners have become the new standard by which I judge contemporary punk bands. While I may not love them as much as, say, Jawbreaker or The Clash, they still get me so dang excited. Cavalcade remains a go-to-get-stoked record, although The Great Awake has my favorite Flatliners’ tune, “Eulogy.” Yeah, it’s so clearly meant to be a single for everyone to get behind, but c’mon. That tune reminds me so explicitly of Michael and how I feel about how he ended up that it’s almost ridiculous in its catharsis. I hope these guys stick around for a while.

Verdict: Keep.

FlCl

Once upon a time, I was an otaku, an anime fan. One of my favorite animes in high school was FlCl, commonly called “Fooly Cooly.” It’s about a kid and aliens, typical anime stuff, but it was way weirder and funnier, with superior animation to what was coming out of Japan at the time. Like the best anime (Cowboy Bebop, Akira), the music was great too. Japanese alt-rock group The Pillows provided most of the tunes, with some help from composer Shinkichi Mitsumune. While the group’s English is dubious at times (Sample lyric: “Could it be? / Could it be hybrid rainbow?”), the band still wrote some top notch pop rock tunes for the soundtracks. Tunes like “Last Dinosaur” and “Little Busters” are super catchy and hold up all these years later. I might not watch much anime these days [Side note: They just put out a Trigun movie? Anybody interested?], but I still love the music.

Verdict: Keep.



Flight of the Conchords

For a while there, Flight of the Conchords were simultaneously one of the best bands and funniest comedy acts out there. They wrote joke songs in a variety of genres that were also legitimately catchy/good. By season/album two, the group hit a creative wall, in that they ran out of stuff to write about and genres to explore. But on The Distant Future and Flight of the Conchords, the duo dished out amazing tunes ranging from hip-hop (“Hiphopopotamus Vs. Rhymenoceros,” “Mutha’uckas”) to electronic (“Inner City Pressure”) to glam rock (the immortal David Bowie tribute/parody “Bowie”). I took a break from listening to the band after their disappointing second album, but revisiting these early triumphs has me falling in love all over again.

Verdict: Keep.

Flogging Molly

While I never considered myself a superfan, I sure do love Flogging Molly. Those first four records are righteous bursts of Irish folk-punk that surpasses even The Pogues. I first fell in love with the group circa Drunken Lullabies in 2002, although Swagger quickly became my favorite. From there, I kept up with the group, and each release amazed me, for a while. Within a Mile of Home is a few songs too long, but it’s still got some of my all-time favorite Molly tunes, such as “The Seven Deadly Sins” and the title track. Flogging Molly is really, really good at writing breakneck-paced punk tunes while occasionally slipping in the occasional somber emotional touchstone, and Mile is a great example of these talents, even if I perpetually underrate it. Still, the only reason why I don’t spin Mile as much as Swagger, Lullabies, or the superb Float is that it’s among such great company. Also of interest is the rarities/documentary combo Whiskey on a Sunday. The documentary is a little repetitive but overall offers a neat glimpse into how the band works and came to be. The music portion offers acoustic reinterpretations of the band’s best-loved tunes, as well as a studio version of “Laura,” which was previously only available on the live album Alive Behind the Green Door.

Alive is one of two Flogging Molly albums I’ve chosen to sell back. The recording quality isn’t that great, even if half of the tunes never appeared on a proper studio album. It’s not bad, it’s just not something I put on often. The other record I’m parting with is 2011’s Speed of Darkness, which just does not do anything for me.

Verdict: Keep most.

Florence + The Machine

Every year, a handful of indie records break through to the mainstream (I like to call them iPod rock) and convince me that other people don’t have stupid taste in music. Phoenix is a good example; Florence + The Machine is another. I ignored her when Lungs came out in 2009, but at my fiancee’s insistence, I gave the record a shot and found it to be a moving piece of orchestral indie rock existing somewhere between Arcade Fire and Bjork. Plus, hearing “Kiss With a Fist” is probably the only good thing to happen to me in August 2010.

Verdict: Keep.



Floyd: Squawk Among Us

This one’s a Fat Wreck sampler that got passed around at Warped Tour 2002. I should probably throw it out, but it introduced me to The Lawrence Arms, Dillinger Four, and Nerf Herder’s “Welcome to My World.”

Verdict: Keep.

myPod: Fa-Fi

[myPod is an attempt to edit down my CD collection as I import my music on to my brand new 160 GB iPod.]

Face to Face

My introduction to Face to Face is perhaps unique among diehard fans, in that I was introduced to the pop-punk group via Ignorance is Bliss. The black sheep of F2F’s discography, Ignorance is an alt-rock record that dips into shoegaze. It’s essentially their Dear You, an album of surreal imagery that just bludgeons you with its otherwordly guitar tone. It’s not exactly punk rock, but it’s alternately heavy and dream-like and pretty dang great.

My next F2F purchase as a youngster was Big Choice. “Oh, they’re a punk band,” I thought. “Cool.” It was like discovering the band all over again, only this time I obsessed over catchy choruses and furious tempos. Big Choice remains one of the band’s best releases, along with Face to Face, which is arguably their catchiest record. Also essential listening: How to Ruin Everything, their supposed swan song before 2011’s Laugh Now… Laugh Later. That one is far and away the fastest and loudest, a real “rage against the dying of the light” record.

This only accounts for about half of Face to Face’s discography, though. The other half, while still pretty great, pales a little. Their debut, Don’t Turn Away, is a solid pop-punk album in the Fat Wreck vein¸ but it’s a dry run for Big Choice. Reactionary, released as damage control for all the fans who hated Ignorance’s experimentation, is a little by the numbers. It’s catchy, but it’s also probably their least distinct release. That leaves Standards and Practices, a surprisingly solid covers collection, and a fun split with Dropkick Murpheys. Finally, Laugh Now, while not the best F2F release by a wide margin, still boasts some good songs.

What attracts me to Face to Face is as follows: Frontman/guitarist Trever Keith writes song that everyone can identify with. The band has been absurdly blessed with bassists; both Matt Riddle and Scott Shiflett laid down thick, hearty grooves. The tempos are almost always blazing. The vocals soar. Some people write off pop-punk for being repetitive. I think they just haven’t heard Face to Face yet.

Verdict: Keep.

Factors of Four

Female-fronted Philly punk band that puts on a heck of a show. Their recorded output doesn’t do them justice though.

Verdict: Sell.

Fake Problems

Sometimes it’s weird outgrowing a band. Sometimes it happens gradually – I’ve found a few records from high school that don’t hold up at 25 – but others just kind of fade away quickly. I was all about Fake Problems’ freewheeling, humorous folk-punk circa 2007’s How Far Our Bodies Go. Then they hit a creative freeze, first by making a record that was too silly (It’s Great to Be Alive) and then overcompensated by making one that was too serious (Real Ghosts Caught on Film). I held on to Bodies for a while, but this most recent listen didn’t do much for me. It’s time to break up.

Verdict: Sell.



The Falcon

The Falcon is basically The Lawrence Arms.

Verdict: Keep.

Fang Island

Today was pretty stressful at work. But thanks to Fang Island’s self-titled full-length, I was able to suppress my murderous urges through the magic of guitar rockitude. The first three tracks form a sort of suite, culminating in “Daisy,” that centers me. Basically, they’re the indie rock version of Andrew W.K. Their EP Sky Gardens has a similar effect. Man I hope their formula never gets old (unlike AWK).

Verdict: Keep.

Jay Farrar and Benjamin Gibbard

The Son Volt/ex-Uncle Tupelo frontman hooked up with the Death Cab for Cutie lead singer to compose a soundtrack to a documentary about Jack Kerouac. The result was a chilled out slice of Americana that heavily references Kerouac’s work without seeming derivative. The album’s a little expensive since it comes with the documentary, One Fast Move or I’m Gone, but it’s still a pleasing listen.

Verdict: Keep.



Fenix TX

Growing up means discarding your Drive-Thru Records discography. Fenix TX was an early pop-punk band that gave DTR the pull to land future big names like New Found Glory and Midtown, so I’ve always held a sort of reverence for them. But I own too many clean SoCal pop-punk records, and besides, the juvenile humor displayed on their self-titled debut (I have the original version from when they were called RiverFenix) is a little too violent and misogynistic for my taste. Lechuza puts pop-punk tunes next to hard rock ones, which sounded weird then and now.

Verdict: Sell.

50

To celebrate this 50th release, Saddle Creek Records pressed an anniversary compilation promoting all of their acts. It was an essential release for me in high school. I had just gotten into Bright Eyes. Through this comp, I learned about indie acts like Rilo Kiley, Cursive, and Desaparecidos. But the exclusive tracks are kind of ho-hum, and every band on the comp other than the three in the previous sentence sound just like Bright Eyes (Well, minus Azure Ray). 50 was important when I was 16, but I don’t need it anymore.

Verdict: Sell.

Fight to Live

Dubious punk band from Doylestown. Their split with Best Thing in Town was solid, but their self-titled debut is hilariously terrible. Of particular note: “Trans,” an anti-love song about a beguiling transvestite; “Don’t Scare the Emo Kids,” about how punk is totally punk; and “Chinatown,” about being so punk that ya got kicked out of an Ataris show.

Verdict: Keep.

The Fire Theft

Sunny Day Real Estate is better renowned, but three out of its four members – Jeremy Enigk, Nate Mendel, and William Goldsmith – put on a mighty fine sequel with the short-lived Fire Theft. TFT essentially took SDRE’s dramatic emo leanings, which when last heard had matured into something approaching U2 on The Rising Tide, and continued along that path. The Fire Theft is anthemic and operatic, and while I still prefer SDRE, I also enjoy this quite a bit.

Verdict: Keep.

mPod: En-Ex

[myPod is a biweekly attempt to edit down my CD collection as I import my music on to my brand new 160 GB iPod. This installment comes a week early, as Picasso Blue is gonna be on vacation for the first half of August.]

Envy

During my senior year of college, I interned with City Paper in Philadelphia for a semester. Most of my writing consisted of brief event summaries, but every so often I got to write something more creatively satisfying. I was also privy to a huge stack of promo CDs that Nate Adams (Science Club/ex-The Percentages) would raid weekly. Most of it was crap, but every so often I’d dig up a treasure like Avail or Envy. At the time, I didn’t quite appreciate Envy’s Abyssal, as I had drifted away from harder music at that point. I started getting into metal after college, though, which led me to the Japanese post-hardcore group’s splits with Thursday and Jesu. Envy bested them both. By 2010’s Recitation, I was hooked on the group’s epic, album-length quiet/loud tension and passion. While I’m unsure about checking out the group’s pre-Abyssal work – they’ve been together almost 20 years – I still love what I’ve heard so far.

Verdict: Keep.

Epoxies

In high school, Epoxies’ retro-leaning punk/new wave revival floored me. Plus, they came recommended by Mitch Clem himself. That said, I just realized I haven’t listened to this band in about five years.

Verdict: Sell.

The Ergs!

One day, The Ergs! will be acknowledged as one of the greatest pop-punk bands of all time, and I’m going to lead the campaign to get them there. While my introduction to the band came via the Ben Kweller and 3 Guys, 12 Eyes EPs, it was Dorkrockcorkrod that solidified my fandom. This band burst with catchy tunes about break-ups and failure. While they only released two proper full-lengths (Dork and Upstairs/Downstairs), their output goes way beyond that, as the rarities collection Hindsigh is 20/20, My Friend attests. And it’s not just me; my fiancée is a fan as well, and she doesn’t even really like pop-punk.

Part of what made The Ergs! great was their musical prowess. The trio obviously had musical interests beyond pop-punk, and their love of jazz and country informed their songwriting. The Ergs! dabbled with different sounds while still maintaining an ooey, gooey pop-punk center. They also played some sweet covers; check out their interpretations of Gin Blossoms’ “Hey Jealousy” and Nirvana’s “Blew” sometime.

I was lucky enough to catch The Ergs! live twice, and both times I raided their merch table for new tunes. Considering their steadily building post-humus discography, I’m still scrambling. Go listen to “Introducing Morrissey” right now.

Verdict: Keep.



Error

While their brief existence only yielded a single EP, Error was something of a super group, featuring Atticus Ross (Nine Inch Nails), Brett Gurewitz (Bad Religion), and Guy Picioto (Dillinger Escape Plan). The result was an industrial band somewhere between NIN and Prodigy. For a while in high school, this was the weirdest album in my collection, but I haven’t put this on in a long, long time.

Verdict: Sell.

Even in Blackouts

I know the last couple bands discussed are getting sold off simply because I don’t listen to them anymore, and while that’s also true for Even in Blackouts, I’ve decided to hold on to Myths & Imaginary Magicians. This project has forced me to rediscover this acoustic pop-punk act featuring Jughead from Screeching Weasel. The record is just super catchy, and they do great covers of SW and Operation Ivy. Also, I just learned they put out a bunch of albums after Myths, so I might check those out.

Verdict: Keep.

The Evens

Ian MacKaye pretty much gets carte blanche with me, but I, like a lot of MacKaye fans, pretended to like The Evens more than I really did back when they were in full force. The acoustic duo of MacKaye and Amy Farina has some neat tunes, but their tunes kind of blur together after a while. RIYL Nick Drake and Ani DiFranco, but bring back Fugazi, please.

Verdict: Sell.



Everclear

For a while, Everclear chronicled the ups and downs of suburban sprawl (decaying neighborhoods, drugs, divorces) in an alt-rock style that bordered on pop-punk. Then they ran out of stuff to say and settled for cloying covers (“Brown Eyed Girl,” “The Boys are Back in Town”) and vacuous “things used to be better” slights (“Volvo Driving Soccer Mom,” “AM Radio”). The band certainly wrote some great tunes, but their song selection is maddeningly uneven to the point that I just don’t know why I own it. There’s some truly great stuff on here (“Strawberry,” “Heroin Girl”) but the majority is overproduced radio rock schlock.

Verdict: Sell.

The Extra Lens/The Extra Glenns

THE MOUNTAIN GOATS ARE AMAZING. GO BUY ALL OF THEIR ALBUMS RIGHT NOW. AFTER THAT GO BUY BOTH ALBUMS FROM THE EXTRA LENS. THEY USED TO BE CALLED THE EXTRA GLENNS BUT NOW THEY’RE NOT.

Martial Arts Weekend and Undercard are both pretty good. Not up to TMG’s level, but you get to hear John Darnielle spin some more tales about failure and sex. Highlight: The jazzy piano tune “Memories” from MAW, which boasts the honest come-on “Will you let me see / Your naked body?” for a chorus. Righteous.

Verdict: Keep.

NEXT TIME: F is for... far out pop tunes, fast punk bands, and fuggin' Fugazi.

myPod: Ea-En

[myPod is an attempt to edit down my CD collection as I import my music on to my brand new 160 GB iPod.]

The Early November

Emo has always been a dirty word, but for me, the term didn’t truly take on a negative connotation until the ’00s, as bands like My Chemical Romance and Fall Out Boy rose to prominence. One of the few groups that kept the genre viable was New Jersey’s The Early November. In true emo fashion, the band burned out within six years and two albums, but for a while frontman Ace Enders and his crew delivered reliably catchy tunes for Drive Thru Records.

The band’s best release remains their debut EP for the label, For All of This. It’s their most focused and aggressive, and everything after that failed to hit that sweet spot. The Acoustic EP comes off too earnest and out-of-key to me now. The Room’s Too Cold is too soft. That split with I Am the Avalanche offers up yet another version of the group’s more popular tunes, “Ever So Sweet,” which I was actually present for the recording of, but there’s not much else going on. The split was meant to help finance the band’s ambitious, uneven triple album The Mother, The Mechanic, and The Path. At best, this would have been a solid double record, but the band overreached by a wide margin. Disc 1 is like a Room throwback, whereas the second disc expands into folk and showtunes, and it’s actually kind of good. The third disc is a spoken word/Saddle Creek-esque concept album. I haven’t listened to it in five years.

But while I still dig some of TEN’s tunes, I’ve decided to part with their discography. I’m old enough to notice the flubbed notes and awkward lyrics. The band meant a lot to me in high school, but that’s where they belong.

Verdict: Sell.

Eels

E. (a.k.a. Mark Oliver Everett) has a knack has a knack for melancholy, bluesy tunes about failure. Sometimes he writes about suicide (“It’s a Motherfucker”) and sometimes he writes about breaking up (“I’m Going to Stop Pretending That I Didn’t Break Your Heart”), but it always comes back to failure. Still, he’s always applied a minimalist approach to songwriting that highlights his clever wordplay. E. usually juxtaposes seemingly positive words against shitty circumstances (i.e. “Your Lucky Day in Hell”). While I can’t say I’m completely behind his constantly growing discography, Meet the Eels has served me well over the years.

Verdict: Keep.

Egg Hunt

For shits and giggles, Minor Threat’s Ian MacKaye and Jeff Nelson made an indie rock EP that’s better than anything R.E.M. did in the ’80s.

Verdict: Keep.



Eisley

This band of Texan siblings entranced me in high school before I had a firm grasp on ethereal indie pop, and in that sense I suppose Eisley was a good gateway band for me. From 2003 to 2005, I was obsessed. But lately I’ve felt underwhelmed by their otherwordly stylings; the group comes off like Coldplay. I can still remember wandering the local fields while blasting the Marvelous Things EP though.

Verdict: Sell.

Elastica

While their output was far smaller compared to Oasis and Blur’s, Elastica is one of my favorite Britpop bands. Their self-titled is a sly, slinking, sexy collection, even if it does plagiarize a couple of bands. The Menace is a little weirder, but not necessarily uneven. I’ve also got a collection of BBC performances that’s ferocious. Like I said, big fan.

Verdict: Keep.

Electric Six

Good gravy, the video for Electric Six’s “Danger! High Voltage” was so creepy in 2003. Over the course of a few years, though, E6’s brand of over-the-top, comical Detroit blues rock won me over, and I was hooked on Fire. Señor Smoke was even better, tackling topics ranging from the Iraq War to The Backstreet Boys with the same flippant humor and energy. After that, the band kind stopped being funny, although I was amused by 2008’s Flashy when Define the Meaning asked me to review it.

Verdict: Keep the first two albums.



Embrace

Ian MacKaye more or less invented hardcore with Minor Threat and post-hardcore with Fugazi. In between the two he helped found emo via Embrace, a band that barely lasted a year. While Embrace still played with Minor Threat’s intensity, you can hear new ideas percolating in the songwriting that would eventually be better realized in Fugazi. Embrace is probably my least favorite MacKaye band, but it’s still MacKaye all the same.

Verdict: Keep.

Emergency & I

Emo band I started in college with my cousin Mike. I never listen to these songs because of the way the band ended, but I can’t throw them away.

Verdict: Keep.

Empire Records soundtrack

I received the Empire Records soundtrack as a Christmas gift in 1995. I was nine years old. At the time, the compilation didn’t adhere to the steady diet of smooth R&B I was ingesting, so the record didn’t quite click for me until high school. Now I’m blown away by the tracklisting, which boasts original tracks from Gin Blossoms, The Cranberries, and Evan Dando. The two best tracks, though, are the super cool “A Girl Like You” by Edwyn Collins and “Sugarhigh” by Coyote Shivers, which was actually performed by the characters in the film.

Verdict: Keep.



Jeremy Enigk

Return of the Frog Queen, Jeremy Enigk’s first solo album, comes as something of a shock after his initial run with the epic, anthemic Sunny Day Real Estate. SDRE was huge; Frog Queen sounds like Nick Drake meets Peter Gabriel. It’s a modest, surreal record with orchestral flourishes. And it remained an oddity in Enigk’s discography for a decade until he finally dropped his second album, World Waits, in 2006. It sounds a little more confident, but it’s still very much in the orchestral indie vein. The Missing Link is a solid B-sides/live comp. I didn’t bother with Enigk’s latest solo release, regrettably. By that point, the formula got a little old for me. Still, I love hearing this guy’s alien rasp.

Verdict: Keep.

myPod: Do-Dy

[myPod is an attempt to edit down my CD collection as I import my music on to my brand new 160 GB iPod.]

The Doors

After I absorb my favorite artists’ records, I check out their influences. Prince led me to Stevie Wonder and James Brown; Jawbreaker turned me towards Psychedelic Furs and Hüsker Dü. The Doors were a seminal influence on the original punk movement (Patti Smith, X), so I figured I would give Legacy: The Absolute Best when it dropped in 2003. The set is frustratingly mixed. Jim Morrison was a twat; I’m not denying that. The worst Doors songs (“When the Music’s Over,” “The End”) indulged his stupid drugged out poetry. I prefer my psychedelia from 13th Floor Elevators, thanks. But some tunes (“Break On Through (To the Other Side),” “The Crystal Ship”) predict punk. Hell, “Hell, I Love You” predicts new wave. Part of me wants to whittle this two-disc set down to the true essentials, but it’s just not worth my time. For me, The Doors’ legacy lies in keyboardist Ray Manzarek’s discovery of X.

Verdict: Sell.

Dragging the Lake compilation series

Created by blink-182’s clothing label Atticus, the Dragging the Lake series never took off like Punk-O-Rama, but it still delivered some quality tunes. The edition featured some great exclusive pop-punk tracks (Alkaline Trio’s “Jaked on Green Beers,” New Found Glory’s “Ex-Miss”). But as a whole it’s something relegated to my youth (Simple Plan, The Used, etc.). I was impressed the compilation landed Jets to Brazil for the second installment, but that’s about it. Volume 3 dropped after blink imploded, and it’s weird swan song. On the one hand, it’s actually kind of forward thinking with tracks from Gratitude, Lucero, and Bedouin Soundclash. But again, it’s just a couple of great tracks (Motion City Soundtrack’s “1000 Paper Cranes,” MxPx’s “Grey Skies Turn Blue”) surrounded by crap and obvious tracks. Released in 2004, I don’t understand why Death Cab for Cutie’s “The New Year” needs to be here. It’s a great track, but Transatlanticism had been out for a year at that point. Who hadn’t heard that song?

Verdict: Sell.

Nick Drake

Listening To Nick Drake’s brief run (three albums) put me in such a good mood that I decided to his biography. Big mistake. But the guy wrote three gorgeous proto-twee records that put me a nice, mellow place. Listening to them is like hearing an artist strip back excess piece by piece. Drake’s debut, Five Leaves Left, is his most lushly arranged, and while the record works well, Drake’s compositions really only needed guitar and vox, with some piano on the side, as Pink Moon displayed. For proof, compare to full band version of “Way to Blue” on Leaves to the piano demo. The demo is far and away better, although I still love Leaves and Bryter Layter. It’s a shame that Drake didn’t find success in life – the ’80s underground embraced him long after his supposed suicide in 1974 – but he left behind a perfect, though brief, discography.

Verdict: Keep.



The Dresden Dolls

Like a lot of people, I got into The Dresden Dolls in the summer of 2004, on the strength of their “Girl Anachronism” single. Seven years later, that song remains my favorite Doll composition. It’s a fiery and intense, so much so that the band can barely hang on when they play it live. The Dolls described themselves as “punk cabaret,” and “Girl Anachronism” is their proof of life. The rest of the band’s self-titled record initially disappointed me; nothing tops that tune in terms of speed, but tunes like “Half Jack” and “Good Day” packed just as much fury. Frontwoman Amanda Palmer even delivered some cool New Romantic pop via “Jeep Song.” I’m a little tool on the more maudlin, showtunes-y material like “Coin-Operated Boy” and “Missed Me,” though. Still, Dresden Dolls is one of my favorite records.

It took a while for the Dolls to come together, though, as A is for Accident attests. The band’s songs used to be looser ‘n’ longer. The strongest track of the bunch, the epic, aching “Truce,” a break-up song to end all break-up songs, hits so hard that it closes out Dresden Dolls, but otherwise, Accident is for die-hards only. The only reason I haven’t sold it yet it is because my copy is autographed. Still, it’s time to do away with it. The same goes for Yes, Virginia…, the group’s uneven sophomore effort. Palmer’s lyrics come off as sophomoric whether she’s kidding or being serious. I also recently realized I had even outgrown some of my favorite tracks from the album like “Delilah” and “Dirty Business.”

I am going to hold on the rarities comp No, Virginia…. I wish it included “Night at the Roses,” but it’s still got some quality tunes in “Sorry Bunch,” “Dear Jenny,” and “Lonesome Organist Rapes Page-Turner.” It’s probably the last document I’ll get out of the Dolls; Palmer has gone on to solo success and gothic legend, but I honestly think drummer Brian Viglione reeled in some of her more self-indulgent impulses.

Verdict: Sell half, keep half.

Dum Dum Girls

While I Will Be was pretty thoroughly OK, Dum Dum Girls’ He Get Me High EP really piqued my interest. Dum Dum Girls deal in fuzzy, skuzzy lo-fi girl pop/garage rock, and while they’re not exactly The Raveonettes, I’m on board for now.

Verdict: Keep.

Bob Dylan

As much as I was obsessed with punk rock in high school, I harbored an interested in baby boomers’ most treasured acts. Sometimes it bloomed (The Beatles), sometimes it failed (The Doors), and sometimes it was somewhere in between (Bob Dylan). Dylan, the political singer/songwriter, the rock ‘n’ roll Judas, the guy with the weird voice and bullshit lyrics, was all over the place in songs. Not so much musically, but certainly lyrically. Dylan is collectively known for acoustic folk songs like “The Times They Are A-Changin’” and “Blowin’ in the Wind,” but I find his early albums, outside of The Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan, to be tedious and repetitive. Detractors will find the most nonsensical material to mock in those early records like The Times They Are A-Changin’ and Another Side of Bob Dylan.

In my opinion, Dylan hit his stride when he “betrayed” the folk community and went electric. Highway 61 Revisited and Bringing It All Back Home are amazing rock records filled with anger, humor, and romance. Fans who want to prove Dylan’s surreal lyricism wasn’t all pot smoke can find plenty of evidence in “She’s an artist / She don’t look back” and pretty much all of “Like a Rolling Stone.”

Blonde on Blonde marks a big finale to a trilogy of rock records along with Home and Highway. The song lengths are pretty epic and could be a turnoff for some, but there’s enough hits (“Mr. Tambourine Man,” “Just Like a Woman,” “Rainy Day Women #12 & 35.” After that album, Dylan toyed around with different sounds for a while. Sometimes it worked, like on the country record Nashville Skyline; sometimes it floundered, like on the political folk-rocker John Wesley Harding.

It took a few years, but Dylan finally issued a worthy follow-up in 1975’s Blood on the Tracks. A break-up album with women and the ’60s, Blood found Dylan at his most directly confessional, and tunes like “Tangled Up in Blue” and “You’re Gonna Make Me Lonesome When You Go” still haunt/entrance me. I rounded out my collection with Greatest Hits Volume 3, which has some choice tracks from uneven records like “Hurricane” from Desire or the unreleased “Dignity.” Then Dylan dropped Christmas in the Heart in 2009. His voice weathered, a lot of people wondered how much of Heart was sincere and how much was Dylan once again fucking with public perception. Personally, I think it’s hilarious.

The rest of my collection needs a little trimming though. Like I said, those early acoustic albums don’t hold up once you exit your teens. The rock period can stay, but I found John Wesley Harding to be lacking in energy; “All Along the Watchtower” just doesn’t work once you’ve heard Jim Hendrix’s version.

Verdict: Keep most of it.

Up next: E is for... emo, emotional hardcore, and energetic songs about breaking up.

myPod: De-Do

[myPod is an attempt to edit down my CD collection as I import my music on to my brand new 160 GB iPod.]

Desaparecidos

Conor Oberst put out two albums in 2002: Lifted, or the Story is in the Soil, Listen to the Ground under the moniker Bright Eyes, and Read Music/Speak Spanish by Desaparecidos. The ’cidos were a punk band who hated the shit out of America, gloriously so. Read Music remains their only release, but it’s a good one: Ten tracks of bile and white guilt. Along with Digital Ash in a Digital Urn and The People’s Key, Read Music creates a sort of unofficial electronic trilogy for Oberst.

Verdict: Keep.

Descendents

Surf-punk hardcore that’s profoundly important to pop-punk, along with The Ramones, Green Day, and maybe Screeching Weasel. I’m not that hugest Descendents fan – their ’80s “classic period” is homophobic – but I do enjoy Milo Goes to College and Everything Sucks. It’s danceable and angry, so you know I’m down.

Verdict: Keep.

Devils Brigade

Oh man. Devils Brigade began as a psychobilly side project for Rancid’s Matt Freeman. They released a couple of seven-inches in the early aughts and then sort of faded away. Then in 2010, for whatever reason, Freeman and fellow Rancid/Operation Ivy member Tim Armstrong decided to bring DB back, with X drummer DJ Bonebrake on the kit [Side note: Bonebrake and Freeman also played together in Auntie Christ]. The self-titled debut was more of a rockabilly record, partially because it collected songs from a failed musical about prospectors or some shit. Devils Brigade is cheesy as heck in spots, but it’s Freeman. I love that dude even if he does sing like Cookie Monster.

Verdict: Keep.



Devo

A little bit of Devo goes a long way for me. I’ve got Q: Are We Not Men and Freedom of Choice, the band’s first and third albums, and I honestly think that’s enough for me. I’ve got all of my favorite spastic, sarcastic post-punk tunes (“Girl U Want,” “Gates of Steel,” “Jocko Homo,” and that space funk take on The Rolling Stones’ “Satisfaction”).

Verdict: Keep.

Neil Diamond

SWEEEEET CARRRROOOOLLIIIINE! BA BA BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

I have a greatest hits package from Neil Diamond, and it’s unabashedly schmaltzy pop music of the catchiest caliber. Like Devo, a little bit of Diamond goes a long way, but c’mon. This guy writes big fat show tunes. RESPEK.

Verdict: Keep.

Los Difuntos

I’m such a sucker for anything tangentially related to Rancid that I even got behind Los Difuntos simply because Matt Freeman sang a duet with them on their best song, “Lucy.” That’s not entirely true – the group plays quality psychobilly – but I realized I haven’t really listened to their music much since I reviewed them back in 2009. Sorry dudes.

Verdict: Sell.



The Dillinger Escape Plan

People who prefer Weezer post-Matt Sharp are not true Weezer fans. But I prefer what Dillinger Escape Plan has done post-Calculating Infinity over Infinity. Does that mean I’m not a true DEP fan? In truth, I’ve never heard the record all the way through, even though it’s what established DEP as a premier technical hardcore act – and set them up for fan backlash with each new release. But I have enjoyed the group’s run with newer singer Greg Puciato. Miss Machine and Option Paralysis blend hardcore, metal, alt-rock, and even techno into a fine stew. My favorite record remains my entryway into the band’s discography, 2007’s Ire Works. It’s all over the place stylistically, which is exactly why I gravitate towards it. It’s just a really weird album.

Verdict: Keep.

Dillinger Four

D4 is a cornerstone of what people on the Internets call orgcore, along with Hot Water Music and The Lawrence Arms. I’m not as obsessed with them as other people seem to be, but each of their records is agreeably catchy and moving. Having grown up after D4’s heyday, maybe I’ve been spoiled by their influence – everybody writes gravelly drinking songs these days. Still, I’m all about albums like Versus God and Situatinist Comedy, and the older I get, the better the records sound. This is my kind of punk.

Verdict: Keep.

Dio

When it comes to metal, I prefer raw and sludgy. But when I get the hankering for fantasy power metal, I look no further than Ronnie James Dio. I’ve already written about his greatness with Black Sabbath at length, but Dio’s greatness doesn’t end there. After he parted ways with Sabbath, Dio went on to form… Dio. The group essentially picks up where Mob Rules left off (and even takes on Mob drummer Vinny Appice). The lyrics are pure fantasy cheese, but the hooks and instrumentation are huge. Dio continuously, unapologetically went huge, as songs like “Rainbow in the Dark” and “Holy Diver” prove. Don’t even act like you don’t love the shit out of those songs.

Verdict: Keep.



20 Years of Dischord

For a while in college, I got extreme glee from exploring the wide array of albums released by Dischord, the de facto chronicler of D.C. punk from the ’80s and ’90s. While the label’s output has slowed down in the last decade, I tore through records by Fugazi, Jawbox, and Nation of Ulysses with pleasure. Dischord bands had a few things in common, like grit, dissonance, and mood (Well, aside from Government Issue anyway). 20 Years of Dischord features three discs of music plus a book. The discs are each themed (’80s hardcore, ’90s post-hardcore, and rarities). The ’80s material blurs together after a while, although I do enjoy Teen Idles, Ian MacKaye’s band before Minor Threat. The second disc kills, though. Listening to it reminded me how many more bands I need to check out, like Dag Nasty, Slant 6, and The Make-Up. The rarities disc is a nice addition, and the book is essential listening for punk fans. Dischord has a certain purity to it, as the label has made few artistic concessions, if any. It’s essentially a punk rock Calvin & Hobbes.

Verdict: Keep.

Discount

Unlike peers like Jawbreaker, Sunny Day Real Estate, and The Promise Ring (among others), Discount gets lost in the discussion about ’90s emo. The group’s influence has never been as pronounced by critics, and most of their discography is out of print, aside from Love, Billy, an EP of Billy Bragg covers on Fueled by Ramen. Now, they’re a footnote in the history of Allison Mosshart pre-Kills/Dead Weather. Which is a shame, since Discount was a really, really good pop-punk band with a knack for capturing the beauty and terror behind relationships.

If I had to be overly critical, I would say the band has two essential releases: Ataxia’s Alright Tonight and Half Fiction. Both are thrilling thirty-minute stabs of Florida punk. Swansong Crash Diagnostic is pretty good too, but it sounds like a different band, one shifting towards a Fugazi/Sleater-Kinney/early Pretty Girls Make Graves vibe. The choruses are a little less poppy, although tunes like “Hit” and “Broken to Blue” still showcase the old sound. Love, Billy is good but short. The group signed off with a duo of singles collections that are pretty solid. Ultimately, Discount reminds me that I’ll always be pop-punk at heart.

Verdict: Keep.

The Dismemberment Plan

Generally speaking, I like The Dismemberment Plan. They wrote four records of catchy, spazzy post-punk. They make me want to dance awkwardly. But my enthusiasm took a weird hit when I heard “OK, Jokes Over” on !. It’s a pretty angry song about infidelity that gives me the heebie jeebies. Other than that, yeah, fun times a-hoy.

Verdict: Keep.



Does It Offend You, Yeah?

There are essentially two kinds of reviews I write: One set is about albums I actually care about. The other is about albums that I don’t care about but have to form an opinion on regardless. Does It Offend You, Yeah? falls into the latter category. I reviewed the band’s debut for Define the Meaning, gave it a begrudging endorsement since it accomplished its goal for being frustratingly repetitive, bombastic dance music that ran the gamut of Bloc Party to Mindless Self Indulgence, and then forgot I even owned the record. Years later, this one can go.

Verdict: Sell.

myPod: De

[myPod is an attempt to edit down my CD collection as I import my music on to my brand new 160 GB iPod.]

Death Cab for Cutie

I always forget how much I love Death Cab for Cutie on account of A) the members always come off like jackasses in interviews and B) their fans are wieners. But man can they write catchy indie rock tunes. It’s weird thinking that We Have the Facts and We’re Voting Yes came out 11 years ago. It’s even weirder realizing that Death Cab has become my generation’s R.E.M.; a reliable indie rock band that broke through the major label barrier without compromising its integrity.

While I’m sure others would disagree, I think DCFC got better with each record, from the propulsive, almost dance-oriented drone of The Photo Album to the more expansive rock of Transatlanticism to the overripe melodies of Plans. Narrow Stairs dipped slightly in its attempt to show off some muscle, but only slightly. Frontman Ben Gibbard preserves a knack for rich songwriting – emotionally, pictorially – throughout. The EPs are strong too, but the full-lengths are where it’s at.

Verdict: Keep.

Debtor

Christian hardcore featuring Alan Popoli (ex-Prevail) on vox. So blistering, yet so respectful. The Deliverance EP gets a little scary-hobo-ranty on “Salvaged (Ezekiel 36),” but otherwise it’s all good.

Verdict: Keep.

The Decemberists

Oh man. I never listen to The Decemberists. I mean, I respect their literate prog-folk-rock style. I like them enough when they’re on, and my band, Science Club, is probably going to cover “The Rake’s Song” in the future, but I never seem to put them on. I do the same thing to Death Cab for Cutie, but I can only keep so many albums I rarely play. Sorry guys.

Verdict: Sell.

Deftones

For a while, Deftones were a band out of time. Equally inspired by metal/post-hardcore and ’80s new wave/goth, the band’s debut, Adrenaline, came out in 1995, during the beginning of grunge’s long, sad decline. Then they got lumped in with the nu-metal likes of Korn and Limp Bizkit, even though all they wanted to do was play with Far and Quicksand. In a sense, Deftones are to nu-metal what Thursday became for screamo – they didn’t deserve the derided genre tag, but they’re the exception that proves the rule. Around the Fur and White Pony were brilliant bursts of ethereal metal – like Jesu with balls. White Pony was always my favorite Deftones record; I love the drums on “Digital Bath” and “Change (In the House of Flies.” Both tunes find a great middle line between the aggressive and the ambient. Deftones is a close second for me, though. “Minerva” packs a huge chorus and a massive booming bass line. Again, anytime Deftones play in cut-time, I listen. The grooves are too good to ignore. While Deftones feels at times like a reaction to scream, it also delivers some of the band’s quietest moments as well.

From there the group slowed down a little. A nifty B-sides collection of covers appeared in 2005. I didn’t bother with Saturday Night Wrist; I wasn’t keen on the sterile production. Diamond Eyes won me back over, though. Recorded after bassist Chi Cheng was left in a coma from a car accident, the group plays with renewed figure in tribute, with assistance from ex-Quicksand bassist Sergio Vega. Like I said, all the guys wanted to do was play with their friends.

Deftones fill a nice niche for me. In the last couple years, I’ve really grown to love sludge metal, especially anything coming out of Savannah. At the same time, I love the swirling soundscapes of My Bloody Valentine and The Cure. Deftones embody both sides.

Verdict: Keep, although I’m going to sell off my “Back to School (Mini-Maggot)” Japanese EPK. “Back to School” is the closest Deftones came to actually playing nu-metal, and it’s kind of an embarrassing song to listen to now that I’m 25. The live tracks that accompany it are merely OK.





Depeche Mode

Ah, Depeche Mode. They form the goth triumvirate, along with The Cure and The Smiths (with The Jesus & Mary Chain on the sidelines. Actually wait, no, I left out Siouxsie & The Banshees. This metaphor is going terribly…). ANYWAY, Depeche Mode wrote some stellar synth-pop in the ’80s. Then they just kept making records.

But for a while, DM was nifty keen. It took them a while to achieve artistic success, though, which is why I prefer to summarize their early years with Catching Up With Depeche Mode, a singles collection. Some of the material is embarrassing (“The Meaning of Love,” “Love in Itself”), but there are also some neat early synthesizer numbers (“Dreaming of Me”). The band didn’t hit its stride until Some Great Reward though. That’s when Depeche Mode struck upon a songwriting formula that could alternate from the sexual (“Master and Servant”) to the socio-political (“People are People,” “Blasphemy”) to the romantic (“Somebody”) without sacrificing melody. At this point, the group became the synth-pop version of U2. The lyrics could get cheesy at times – “People are People” is so stupid, but Martin Gore’s hook is so huge – but occasionally the group came up with a cool idea. “Blasphemous Rumors” is a massively nihilistic number with a hooky chorus, for example. Black Celebration upped the ante on both the gothic melodrama and the political screeds: “New Dress” juxtaposes real world problems with the Western world’s obsession with celebrity. As celebrities become less and less known for actually doing things, “New Dress” becomes more and more prescient. Oh yeah, and Black Celebration has “A Question of Time.” That song rules.

Part of me is sad that Depeche Mode dropped the political stances near the end of the ’80s, but then again, their two best albums, Music For the Masses and Violator, were their least political. Just a bunch of sexy, dirty songs like “Never Let Me Down Again,” “Strangelove,” and “Enjoy the Silence.”

After 1990’s Violator, Depeche Mode probably should have broken up. Songs of Faith and Devotion attempted to move towards live rock instrumentation as a means of dealing with grunge, but it was just embarrassing, and things went poorly from then on until 2009’s Sounds of the Universe. That record is a late period comeback that happens to sound exactly like Depeche Mode’s ’80s heyday. While it’s a little too long (I’d cut Martin Gore’s “Jezebel” for one; Gore wrote some great songs about sex, but this one just drags)s, it’s still great to hear David Gahan’s deep voice bellow over electronic beats again.

Verdict: Keep.

myPod: Da

[myPod is an attempt to edit down my CD collection as I import my music on to my brand new 160 GB iPod.]

Daft Punk

I got into the French techno robot duo Daft Punk in high school via the anime music videos for their second album Discovery. I’ve even got the collected film Interstella 5555 on DVD. Discovery remains my favorite DP record, a joyful blend of dance-friendly hooks and up-with-people lyrics. It’s a pick-me-up for sure, but it also kept me from checking out the rest of the band’s discography, as most writers agree that Discovery is far and away the best DP release.

While I agree with that conventional wisdom, I have been surprised and delighted by the group’s other records. Homework’s songs are a little bit longer and more repetitive, but it’s another party starter. Human After All, meanwhile, gets a bad rap. Released after the critically and commercially successful Discovery, Human was a 180 that alienated many. Where Discovery was a lush, intricate, warm work, Human was recorded quickly in six weeks with just guitar, keyboard, and a drum machine. It’s a very retro-minded, minimalist electronic record, and it’s not nearly as bad as reviews suggest. But it’s still a bit of a disappointment after Discovery, something the group rectified with its live show.

Alive 2007 captures an amazing Daft Punk set that remixed the first three full-lengths to great success, and proves that Human wasn’t so bad after all. The Tron: Legacy soundtrack followed a few years later, and it’s another stylistic departure, taking the original Tron score and streamlining it with a digital cool. It’s not a party record, but it combines orchestral and electronic music beautifully. It was actually one of my favorite albums of 2010.

Verdict: Keep.

Damn the Lions

Adorable, acoustic indie-pop from New Jersey’s beloved Robb Masters. RIYL Elliot Smith and Bright Eyes.

Verdict: Keep.

The Darjeeling Limited

I love Wes Anderson’s movies, and Darjeeling Limited might be my favorite, although The Royal Tenenbaums is obviously up there too. The soundtrack follows some of Anderson’s twee conventions – like half of The Kinks’ Lola Versus Powerman and the Moneygoround shows up – but it also includes some neat French and Indian tunes. And the movie ends with “Les Champs-Élysées!” How cool is that?!

Verdict: Keep.



The Dark Knight

I am all about Hans Zimmer’s work with Christopher Nolan. His work on The Dark Knight actually holds up outside of the film, especially his riveting theme for the Joker. That song communicates a reckless danger so beautifully. I can’t wait to hear what he comes up with for The Dark Knight Rises.

Verdict: Keep.

Dashboard Confessional

As an American youth, it’s important that I define myself through the pop culture I enjoy. Hence, I have, at various points in my life, been emo. It’s kind of like being Catholic, where you know a couple cool acts like Sunny Day Real Estate and/or Jesus Christ but mostly just apologize for all the dumb shit other emo kids/Catholics do. Dashboard Confessional’s Chris Carrabba has always been a controversial figure despite his seemingly innocent songwriting. The dude writes sappy love songs and bitter break-up ballads. That’s all he does, but DC continues to draw criticism for…

1. Sucking.
   
   
2. Being one of the first emo figureheads to really reduce women to the Madonna/whore status emo took on during the ’00s.
   
   
3. Sucking.
   
   

I’m not going to apologize for the second allegation. Yeah, DC doesn’t offer much insight into women. But when I was 14, DC gave me a place to hide out in. Swiss Army Romance was a collection of raw, acoustic love songs that I used to defend for years. So Impossible was even better, a mini-concept album about one really good date. In between the two came DC’s big break, The Places You Have Come to Fear the Most, which added a full band and fleshed out Carrabba’s songs. This was the period people my age might call “the good years.”

2003’s A Mark, A Mission, A Brand, A Scar had bigger pop rock aspirations, which means emo kids hated it even though it took DC’s best song, “Hands Down,” and made it better. Everything after that was intermittently good (“So Long, So Long!”), but generally speaking Carrabba has been stuck in an adolescent holding pattern. Still, I held on to the early years.

Then a funny thing happened. I actually put the old records on and found out that Carrabba’s lyrics were clumsy and cliché and always had been. While I can still get behind other sad sack acts like Bright Eyes and The Cure, I have aged out of Dashboard Confessional’s demographic. Part of me can’t let go of So Impossible, though. It’s an emo touchstone and the songs remind me too much of who I was. I’m not ready to erase that just yet, but let’s see where I’m at in five years.

Verdict: Sell everything besides So Impossible.

Miles Davis

One day I bought Birth of the Cool for the heck of it. It’s one of Miles Davis’ first albums, and while it’s pretty tame compared to what he achieved in jazz in the decades to come, I still think it’s a really good starting point (Aside from maybe Kind of Blue), in that it’s a pleasant-sounding record that mellows me out. The two albums that made me fall in love with Davis’ work and jazz in general (at least potentially, since I really only know Davis and Charles Mingus at this juncture) are Bitches Brew and A Tribute to Jack Johnson. Bitches Brew is this otherworldly cacophony that makes most experimental records sound stupid by comparison. Johnson skews more towards jazz/rock fusion, which works even though it shouldn’t. The album is only two songs long, but opener “Right Off” is an amazing James Brown-indebted rocker. I think of Johnson as more of a guitar album than I do a trumpet one, as John McClaughlin’s raw playing carries the record. I still have a long ways to go in Davis’ discography, but so far it’s been a rather rewarding journey.

Verdict: Keep.