Wellllllll, as has been my tradition since I was but a wee musical tot, here is my list of the albums that moved me the most in the past calendar year. It is, I notice, not as musically diverse as some years, what with most of the soundtrack being provided by Guys with Amped Guitars, but I guess it was from the overwhelming Pre-Apocalyptic Angst. Anyway, these are in loose order, with the only definite being that Rush is by far my favorite album of the year.
Rush - Clockwork Angels: It shouldn't be right for a rock band of this vintage to make one of its absolute best albums this far into its career, but here's Exhibit A.
The Darkness - Hot Cakes: Rock n' roll should always be this fun.
Foxy Shazam - Church of Rock n' Roll: Rock n' roll should always be this fun
Dead Man's Tale - Missgeburt: Lovely, lovely album. Proof that hard work and perseverance can make great art, even if you are making the painful transition from noisy punkiness to something different. Either way, were I king, these guys would be the House Band at my castle.
The Cult - Choice of Weapon: see "Rush"; here's Exhibit B
Valentine Wolfe - Musick Most Dark: the title says it all, and the album is brilliant.
Kamelot - Silverthorn: Usually new singers create "Sammy/Dave"-type division in the fan ranks, but Kamelot's transition after Roy Khan left the band is pretty darn seamless: Tommy Karevik sounds so close to Khan that if you weren't paying attention...
Soundgarden - King Animal: I always respected Soundgarden for quitting while they were ahead, so to speak, and not flogging the proverbial dead horse. Needless to say, I was wary of The Big Reunion, but KA proves it was a worthy musical step. These guys are meant to be in This Band.
Danko Jones - Rock 'n Roll is Black and Blue: Not my favorite Danko album, but still Danko.
69 Eyes - X: Outta left field, this album that I debated even buying became a favorite. 69 Eyes aren't the most creative band in the world (witness the title of the song "I Know What You Did Last Summer"), but they pulled together a collection of memorable, catchy songs that I found myself singing along to many times (in my best goth rock voice, natch).
Van Halen - Different Kind of Truth: I had very low expectations for this album, and it burned early for me, then faded a bit. Still, it's Van Halen as they (Almost) Should Be, and enough of this sounded like The Old Days to make it the best album since Fair Warning, in my opinion. Even "Tattoo" grew on me over time. Favorite song is "You and Your Blues".
LA Guns - Hollywood Forever: LA Guns will ever be my favorite Hollyrock band, as long as it's the version with Philip Lewis singing. Classic era sounding stuff from a classic band.
Lindi Ortega - Cigarettes and Truckstops: We saw Lindi with Social Distortion a bit ago, and we were totally taken with her performance and that VOICE!! This is the kinda country I like.
Soul Asylum - Delayed Reaction: The best SA album since Grave Dancers Union.
Turbonegro - Sexual Harassment: Turbo also went through the dreaded "vocalist change" (this one has likely produced the "Sammy/Dave" effect). The only band that could write a song called "Shake Your Shit Machine" and have you sing along.
Testament - Dark Roots of the Earth: I hadn't even heard any of this album when I bought it, but I'd been listening to Testament since...'87?...so I took a chance. They too, have produced one of their best albums way past their "sell-by date".
There were many more good albums I came across this year. Some probably should have made this list, but I've prattled on enough for this post. I hope that I never lost my passion for new music, and that as I and the bands I love age, there is still new music for me to be passionate about. The good stuff is out there, but sometimes it takes a bit of effort and "six degrees of..." to find it.
Saturday, December 22, 2012
Tuesday, April 24, 2012
Fragment.
(beginning of a story that currently has no middle or end...)
She was sure the bag had moved.
She turned left without signaling at the second stoplight, then left again.
Two more left turns and she was back where she had come from. Ahead, on the left, she saw the nine bags of refuse. At this distance, they looked like globs of tar tossed into a rough pyramid. She slowed a bit as they resolved into mere garbage bags.
She was sure the bag -- the left one on the second tier down -- had moved...
...but as she drove by, nothing.
Wind, surely. Or the swirl of air from a passing car. Perhaps the trash shifting inside.
But...
Left, left, left, left.
Park.
She was sure the bag had moved.
She turned left without signaling at the second stoplight, then left again.
Two more left turns and she was back where she had come from. Ahead, on the left, she saw the nine bags of refuse. At this distance, they looked like globs of tar tossed into a rough pyramid. She slowed a bit as they resolved into mere garbage bags.
She was sure the bag -- the left one on the second tier down -- had moved...
...but as she drove by, nothing.
Wind, surely. Or the swirl of air from a passing car. Perhaps the trash shifting inside.
But...
Left, left, left, left.
Park.
Saturday, April 7, 2012
What Love Is...
Sooooo, last eve I was reading the scant liner notes in a few CDs, and had an idea that I'm going to attempt to make flesh. Because I need to write stuff, but I still haven't had that "great American novel" idea.
Anyway, my idea is to choose various CDs/albums/whatever, and try to record memories or moments that I associate with them. So here goes......
I used to revel in trips to used record/CD stores. Every trip had that "christmas morning" potential where the very next CD in the rack may -- just MAY -- be that obscurity that I had been fiendin' for.
Although, more likely, it was another copy of "Blind Melon".
It was generally a fruitless exercise to go to a used store with a specific disc in mind, unless you were looking for a copy of something that had been very widely consumed, then shat out by the masses that realized it only tasted good for a few seconds. (Ahem, like "Blind Melon".) I could probably count on one hand the times when I went to a store with specific purpose to buy a certain disc used -- without knowing it was there beforehand or being told by someone it was there -- and actually found it.
In fact, I could count it on one finger.
In this album's case, it would be, appropriately, the middle finger...
...because the ONLY time this EVER happened to me was in the early ... Naughties? Aughties? ... anyway, some time around Y2K.
And the disc was this one....
Anyway, my idea is to choose various CDs/albums/whatever, and try to record memories or moments that I associate with them. So here goes......
I used to revel in trips to used record/CD stores. Every trip had that "christmas morning" potential where the very next CD in the rack may -- just MAY -- be that obscurity that I had been fiendin' for.
Although, more likely, it was another copy of "Blind Melon".
It was generally a fruitless exercise to go to a used store with a specific disc in mind, unless you were looking for a copy of something that had been very widely consumed, then shat out by the masses that realized it only tasted good for a few seconds. (Ahem, like "Blind Melon".) I could probably count on one hand the times when I went to a store with specific purpose to buy a certain disc used -- without knowing it was there beforehand or being told by someone it was there -- and actually found it.
In fact, I could count it on one finger.
In this album's case, it would be, appropriately, the middle finger...
...because the ONLY time this EVER happened to me was in the early ... Naughties? Aughties? ... anyway, some time around Y2K.
And the disc was this one....
(Middle finger included both for counting purposes and proper attitude. Eight dollar price tag still intact.)
Young.
Loud.
And Snotty.
My introduction to the Dead Boys was through Pearl Jam ("Sonic Reducer" was on one of the early fan club 45s) and Guns n' Roses (on that pasta album). They were "before my time" in musical terms, and I never was exposed to them in the interim. It wasn't until I was playing musical Indiana Jones that I decided that perhaps I needed this album. So, on a trip to Manifest in Charlotte, I got it in my head that I was going to look for this nugget of raucous.
And lo n' behold...in the "New Arrivals" section (probably sandwiched between "Blind Melon" and the "Bodyguard" soundtrack)...thar she blows!!
And lo n' behold...in the "New Arrivals" section (probably sandwiched between "Blind Melon" and the "Bodyguard" soundtrack)...thar she blows!!
Now I'm not gonna review this album, that's not what this post is about. It doesn't have any deep, emotional meaning for me beyond being some tasty punk rock.
Rather, it takes me back to a time when being a music obsessive was different...when you couldn't just click a button and download practically any obscurity in a scant few seconds...when, to paraphrase a Motorhead song, the chase was often better than the catch.
Geez, I'm turning into a relic of a bygone era. I hope -- HOPE -- that there are still young (loud and snotty) music obsessives still coming of age and trying to track down their favorites, rather than just taking what is handed to them.
(Here's my favorite song from this album (which I actually heard Black Joe Lewis play live a few weeks back)
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Are you HOT, MAMA?!?? You sure LOOK THAT WAY TO ME-EE-EEEE!!!
(Journey/Foreigner*/Night Ranger live at Verizon Wireless Clusterfuck 8/21/11 )
As an initial disclaimer, I shall not include any discussion of Mr. Humpy in this review-type-thing, as he isn't worthy of explanation.
I must admit that on my list of "bands I MUST see before I die", Night Ranger was...absent. So it was with much dread at the impending arrival of "Sister Christian" that I turned my attention to the stage as the band (3/5 original members!!) sauntered onto the stage as if the '90s had never happened. I admired their enthusiasm and energy, and the performance was rawkin' and very solid! They played a REALLY good song ("Lay It On Me") from their new album and the two songs I wanted to hear ("Sing Me Away" and "Don’t Tell Me You Love Me") along with two, count 'em, Monster Ballads...including one that WASN'T EVEN THEIR SONG!! Yep, they played "High Enough" by Damn Yankees, which singer Jack Blades was of course a part of, but still. I guess I should be thankful that they didn't play "Secret of My Success" and shut the hell up.
Night Ranger:
Lay It On Me
Sing Me Away
High Enough
When You Close Your Eyes
Don’t Tell Me You Love Me
Sister Christian
You Can Still Rock in America
Mick Jones, original Foreigner member, was absent due to sickness, which left the current Foreigner line-up distressingly "original Foreigner member" free. They were like one of those fruit drinks that has a disclaimer that says "contains no fruit juice". In fact, they should either be referred to as "Foreigner" or Foreigner* (*warning: contains no actual Foreigner). Since the line-up boasted singer Kelly Hansen (SOLID on vocals!!) -- from the hair band Hurricane -- and bassist Jeff Pilson -- from the hair band Dokken -- they could've laid more claim to either of those bands at that time. But I digress, because, snarky line-up comments aside, Foreigner* ROCKED!! I realized, when singing along to "Head Games" and "Hot Blooded" and all, that if one digs past the macho '70s ROCK GOD lyrics ("Can I LEAVE-YOU-MY-KEYYY!!") there are some fine chunks of rock to be had in the Foreigner* songbook. Like "Double Vision". And "Dirty White Boy". Especially "Dirty White Boy." For reference, Foreigner's* set also included two Monster Ballads in "Waiting For A Girl Like You" and "I Want To Know What Love Is" further proving that while one can certainly dig past cheese in quest of Powerful Rock Riffs, when there is nothing before you but cheese, then...let the middle-age housewifeyness begin!! Anyway, to sum up, Kelly Hansen's vocals plus riffage equal goodly amounts of rock to be had. Woulda been nice to have someone from Foreigner playing with Foreigner* though.
Foreigner:
Double Vision
Head Games
Cold As Ice
Waiting For A Girl Like You
Dirty White Boy
Feels Like the First Time
Urgent
I Wanna Know What Love Is
Hot Blooded
(encore)
Jukebox Hero
Y'know, I was gonna write up a grand review of Journey's segment of the show, but hell, I'm just gonna keep it simple: after 30 years of loving the band without seeing them, Journey were breath-taking. Theirs was a flawless, energetic, impassioned performance by a band that certainly seems to be re-energized by their new singer and renewed popularity (did I mention the venue was either sold out just a few tickets shy of it?). And if you wouldn't be somehow invigorated, inspired and goosebumpy hearing however many thousand people singing "Don't Stop Believin'" in unison, you are too jaded, bitter, and cynical, and need to loosen up.
And don't even give me any grief about Steve Perry.
Journey:
Separate Ways
Ask the Lonely
Send Her My Love
City of Hope
Stone in Love
Edge of the Moment
Lights
Wheel in the Sky
Open Arms
La Do Da
Be Good To Yourself
Faithfully
Any Way You Want It
(encore)
Don’t Stop Believin’
Lovin’ Touchin’ Squeezin’
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Pleasures...
So earlier tonight, I was ruminating about my disgust for the political state of our country -- you know, the way the politicians bicker, feud, point fingers, and generally stick their tongues out at each other for the sake of their "parties", rather than trying to compromise for the good of the COUNTRY!!!!!! -- when it occurred to me: we should HAVE no musical "guilty pleasures".
We all have them, right? You might be a straightfoward Dave Matthews kinda person with a secret love of "Too Drunk to Fuck" by the Dead Kennedys.
Or, hell, a Dead Kennedys fan with a secret love of Dave Matthews.
Anyway, what brought this to mind tonight was the Foo Fighters (as well as a discussion a few days ago with a friend). I'm firmly convinced that Dave Grohl doesn't have "guilty pleasures". He covered Gerry Rafferty's mid-'70s hit "Baker Street" (one of MY "guilty" songs, incidentally). And not in a jokey "ironic" way, but with feeling (at least that's how I hear it). Now I KNOW there was a lot of ironic covering in the '90s and '00s (ahem, "Smooth Criminal" anyone?). And much of it fell flat, in my opinion, simply because there was so MUCH of it.
But I digress. I have just come to the opinion, at least in regards to my own musical tastes, that the "guilty" needs to be removed from "guilty pleasures".
Dig: I have a CD of Barry Manilow's Greatest Hits. It sits on my CD shelf in close proximity to Mayhem, the Mary Shelley Overdrive, Bob Marley, the Matadors, Magic Sam and Mastodon. Now, in times past, I would winkingly admit to owning the Barry CD and further remark (as above) on its position in my "M" pantheon.
But wait: so...as a Mayhem/Mastodon/etc. fan, Barry is a "guilty pleasure", yes? So...if I'm a Barry Manilow fan -- someone that likes Barryesque music in general -- that happens to own "De Mysteriis Dom Sathanas", wouldn't that make MAYHEM my "guilty pleasure"?
I just proclaimed my love for Journey in my previous post. Surely they are a "guilty pleasure" to certain factions of my friends, but other compadres del Wolffe may proudly proclaim that Journey are the bee's knees.
Should I feel bad for some reason for liking this song....
....or this one....
...at the same time I like this one?
...or this one?
Anyway, I guess my point is, I have moved past thinking it's "cool" to like certain stuff. Or "uncool". I may disparage your like for that detestable Black Eyed Peas song (you know the one), but if it makes you happy, who the frak cares what I think, yes? (This doesn't preclude me from pointing out that the song sucks, however. I may have had a revelation, but I'm still an ass.) If my iTunes jumps from Danko Jones (who I think is "cool") to Foreigner (who I thought were cool in 1977) to something I have ended up with in my playlist inadvertantly but have NEVER considered cool, such as this...
...well, that's just me and my questionable taste in music. I used to try to impress people with it. Hell, I guess I still try. But it doesn't matter. Like whatcha like; jam what you want. Just listen to music, because if you don't have music in your soul, then you are SOULLESS, LIKE THE MASS OF SELF-SERVING, CHILDISH POLITICIANS.
(Comments? Thoughts?)
We all have them, right? You might be a straightfoward Dave Matthews kinda person with a secret love of "Too Drunk to Fuck" by the Dead Kennedys.
Or, hell, a Dead Kennedys fan with a secret love of Dave Matthews.
Anyway, what brought this to mind tonight was the Foo Fighters (as well as a discussion a few days ago with a friend). I'm firmly convinced that Dave Grohl doesn't have "guilty pleasures". He covered Gerry Rafferty's mid-'70s hit "Baker Street" (one of MY "guilty" songs, incidentally). And not in a jokey "ironic" way, but with feeling (at least that's how I hear it). Now I KNOW there was a lot of ironic covering in the '90s and '00s (ahem, "Smooth Criminal" anyone?). And much of it fell flat, in my opinion, simply because there was so MUCH of it.
But I digress. I have just come to the opinion, at least in regards to my own musical tastes, that the "guilty" needs to be removed from "guilty pleasures".
Dig: I have a CD of Barry Manilow's Greatest Hits. It sits on my CD shelf in close proximity to Mayhem, the Mary Shelley Overdrive, Bob Marley, the Matadors, Magic Sam and Mastodon. Now, in times past, I would winkingly admit to owning the Barry CD and further remark (as above) on its position in my "M" pantheon.
But wait: so...as a Mayhem/Mastodon/etc. fan, Barry is a "guilty pleasure", yes? So...if I'm a Barry Manilow fan -- someone that likes Barryesque music in general -- that happens to own "De Mysteriis Dom Sathanas", wouldn't that make MAYHEM my "guilty pleasure"?
I just proclaimed my love for Journey in my previous post. Surely they are a "guilty pleasure" to certain factions of my friends, but other compadres del Wolffe may proudly proclaim that Journey are the bee's knees.
Should I feel bad for some reason for liking this song....
....or this one....
...at the same time I like this one?
...or this one?
Anyway, I guess my point is, I have moved past thinking it's "cool" to like certain stuff. Or "uncool". I may disparage your like for that detestable Black Eyed Peas song (you know the one), but if it makes you happy, who the frak cares what I think, yes? (This doesn't preclude me from pointing out that the song sucks, however. I may have had a revelation, but I'm still an ass.) If my iTunes jumps from Danko Jones (who I think is "cool") to Foreigner (who I thought were cool in 1977) to something I have ended up with in my playlist inadvertantly but have NEVER considered cool, such as this...
...well, that's just me and my questionable taste in music. I used to try to impress people with it. Hell, I guess I still try. But it doesn't matter. Like whatcha like; jam what you want. Just listen to music, because if you don't have music in your soul, then you are SOULLESS, LIKE THE MASS OF SELF-SERVING, CHILDISH POLITICIANS.
(Comments? Thoughts?)
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Just a city boy....
So for my first actual blog post, I debated whether to tackle issues that concern me, such as the generally disfunctional state of society, or the horrendous way that we as Americans treat education, or my belief that the school year should be year-round, or...something like that.
However, upon further rumination, I decided to write about...
Journey.
Y'see, I was going through some archaic stuff that I had "liberated" from my Mom's house recently, and, running across my 1983 Journey wall calendar, I realized that the calendar year 1983 matches this year. Weird eh? And, investigating further, I noticed that, according to the handy notation on the calendar, tomorrow, July 1st, 2011, marks the 30th anniversary of the release of Journey's ESCAPE album.
ESCAPE...the one with "Don't Stop Believin'."
Thought that might ring a bell.
In 1981, I was ALL ABOUT Journey. I would venture to say they were my first favorite band (this might be revisionist history, but I'm sticking by it). I was 13 in 1981, and had been listening to them for awhile. I already had some earlier 45s, and a couple of earlier albums in my burgeoning collection of LPs. Anyway, I got ESCAPE right around the time it was released. I remember being disappointed when I was looking at the liner notes and realized that they had changed keyboardists, because I really dug Gregg Rolie's vocals on previous records. But, to me, at that point in time, the record was so incredibly stunningly awesome that I was quickly able to cope with the line-up change. I had a t-shirt (wish I still had it, though I'm sure it would be more my daughter's size after three decades). I had posters of the album art. I doodled the bug spaceship from the cover all over my school notebooks. I practiced drawing the logo -- the band name is turned sideways and elongated, and the the album title is actually spelled out "E5C4P3".
I had the "Journey Escape" video game for my Atari 2600!!
I even made a stuffed felt christmas tree ornament of the bug ship in art class.
Yes.
(Someday I will find it and revel in its glory.)
Anyway, the other day, I listened to ESCAPE again while driving hither and yon. Forty-three year-old me doesn't quite hold it in as high a regard as thirteen year-old me did, but it still moves me. "Don't Stop Believin'" is, of course, a timeless song; it's an inspirational burst of pop-rock perfection that still resonates all these years and generations later. The rest of the album -- I could do a play-by-play of the songs, but I won't -- hell, it's a great rock record. Dated? Sure. Cheesy? Perhaps, through jaded 21st Century Eyes. Sing-along-able? Catchy? Well-crafted? Yes, yes, and yes. Radio-friendly? Guilty.
Anyway, after ESCAPE, I got more "teen" and had discovered the glories of heavy metal (KILLERS and HIGH N' DRY and Priest and Rainbow and Sabbath and....) by the time Journey released FRONTIERS in '83. It would have been impossible, methinks, for FRONTIERS to live up to ESCAPE for me, because the latter hit me at "that moment in time" (ahem...puberty?) and imbedded itself in my soul. So I listened to FRONTIERS less, thought less of it, wasn't impressed by the "'80s-ness" of the album cover and Steve Perry's short hair. I never even bought the next album, RAISED ON RADIO, and really didn't even think about them again until the mid-'90s when I got the CD boxed set. The '90s reunion album TRIAL BY FIRE, well...I've listened to once.
I DID get excited when they picked a new singer (Steve Augeri) for 2001's ARRIVAL. It was a vital, VERY good album, and it really renewed my interest in the band. GENERATIONS flagged a bit, in my opinion, but was still solid. I LOVE the two albums with new singer Arnel Pineda (REVELATIONS and ECLIPSE).
Thirty years after ESCAPE, here I am, still caring enough to write about the band. They may never have been "critical darlings", and they haven't garnered admission to the questionable ranks of the "Rock and Roll Hall of Fame". But that's immaterial to me.
I've added many bands to my "favorite bands" list since 1981, but Journey are still on the list, and certainly aren't scraping the bottom.
However, upon further rumination, I decided to write about...
Journey.
Y'see, I was going through some archaic stuff that I had "liberated" from my Mom's house recently, and, running across my 1983 Journey wall calendar, I realized that the calendar year 1983 matches this year. Weird eh? And, investigating further, I noticed that, according to the handy notation on the calendar, tomorrow, July 1st, 2011, marks the 30th anniversary of the release of Journey's ESCAPE album.
ESCAPE...the one with "Don't Stop Believin'."
Thought that might ring a bell.
In 1981, I was ALL ABOUT Journey. I would venture to say they were my first favorite band (this might be revisionist history, but I'm sticking by it). I was 13 in 1981, and had been listening to them for awhile. I already had some earlier 45s, and a couple of earlier albums in my burgeoning collection of LPs. Anyway, I got ESCAPE right around the time it was released. I remember being disappointed when I was looking at the liner notes and realized that they had changed keyboardists, because I really dug Gregg Rolie's vocals on previous records. But, to me, at that point in time, the record was so incredibly stunningly awesome that I was quickly able to cope with the line-up change. I had a t-shirt (wish I still had it, though I'm sure it would be more my daughter's size after three decades). I had posters of the album art. I doodled the bug spaceship from the cover all over my school notebooks. I practiced drawing the logo -- the band name is turned sideways and elongated, and the the album title is actually spelled out "E5C4P3".
I had the "Journey Escape" video game for my Atari 2600!!
I even made a stuffed felt christmas tree ornament of the bug ship in art class.
Yes.
(Someday I will find it and revel in its glory.)
Anyway, the other day, I listened to ESCAPE again while driving hither and yon. Forty-three year-old me doesn't quite hold it in as high a regard as thirteen year-old me did, but it still moves me. "Don't Stop Believin'" is, of course, a timeless song; it's an inspirational burst of pop-rock perfection that still resonates all these years and generations later. The rest of the album -- I could do a play-by-play of the songs, but I won't -- hell, it's a great rock record. Dated? Sure. Cheesy? Perhaps, through jaded 21st Century Eyes. Sing-along-able? Catchy? Well-crafted? Yes, yes, and yes. Radio-friendly? Guilty.
Anyway, after ESCAPE, I got more "teen" and had discovered the glories of heavy metal (KILLERS and HIGH N' DRY and Priest and Rainbow and Sabbath and....) by the time Journey released FRONTIERS in '83. It would have been impossible, methinks, for FRONTIERS to live up to ESCAPE for me, because the latter hit me at "that moment in time" (ahem...puberty?) and imbedded itself in my soul. So I listened to FRONTIERS less, thought less of it, wasn't impressed by the "'80s-ness" of the album cover and Steve Perry's short hair. I never even bought the next album, RAISED ON RADIO, and really didn't even think about them again until the mid-'90s when I got the CD boxed set. The '90s reunion album TRIAL BY FIRE, well...I've listened to once.
I DID get excited when they picked a new singer (Steve Augeri) for 2001's ARRIVAL. It was a vital, VERY good album, and it really renewed my interest in the band. GENERATIONS flagged a bit, in my opinion, but was still solid. I LOVE the two albums with new singer Arnel Pineda (REVELATIONS and ECLIPSE).
Thirty years after ESCAPE, here I am, still caring enough to write about the band. They may never have been "critical darlings", and they haven't garnered admission to the questionable ranks of the "Rock and Roll Hall of Fame". But that's immaterial to me.
I've added many bands to my "favorite bands" list since 1981, but Journey are still on the list, and certainly aren't scraping the bottom.
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