No Sun in the Shadow of the Wizard

Ronnie James Dio has died.

I was a total metalhead as a kid, and although my tastes have expanded and matured quite a bit since fifth grade, I never really stopped liking it. And Dio was an amazing singer; a tiny little man with a gigantic, operatic voice.

I first became aware of RJD during his first stint in Black Sabbath. Heaven and Hell is a fucking awesome album, and I really dig Mob Rules. Oddly enough, I never cared for his eponymous band, although I did like the Holy Diver record.

Dio got back together with the Mob Rules-era Sabbath lineup as "Heaven and Hell," since they couldn't call themselves "Black Sabbath." The put out a live DVD, which is awesome, and a CD of new material, which is OK (read my mixed review here).

But if you really want to hear him belt his ass off (and hey, who doesn't?) check out Rainbow's "Stargazer." This cut is Eurometal at its finest. The late great Cozy Powell beats the shit out of his drums, Ritchie Blackmore contributes a typically over-the-top guitar solo, and, but of course, backing from the Munich Philharmonic Orchestra. Of course, what gives the track that extra little push over the cliff is Dio's powerful singing, especially in the fade-out. EPIC.

So when the news broke that Dio had passed away today, I went straight for "Stargazer." And when it gets near the end, and Dio is singing about "going home" and "take me back, take me back" (and of course, "My eyes are bleeding"), I got goosebumps.

Farewell, RJD. You were a total badass.

O My Soul

Alex Chilton died.

My first job was at a Hardee's. I was 17. I was listening to Husker Du and the Replacements and R.E.M. One of the managers had similar tastes in music and we traded tapes. I asked him if he had any Big Star, because their name kept popping up in all the books and magazines I was reading at the time, but I could never find any of their records (turns out I wasn't looking hard enough, but that's a different story).

(Big Star's other singer/guitarist, Chris Bell, was just as talented as Alex. Bell is also dead, but that's another story.)

Anyway, Hardee's Manager loaned me a cassette with #1 Record on one side and Radio City on the other. And they lived up to their reputation. Exceeded it, even.

You can get both those albums on one CD. Worth every penny.

Brought to You by the Letter "B"

Local H, the greatest fucking live band in the world and don't you ever goddam forget it, played in Covington, Ky. on Nov. 28. As they are the greatest fucking live band in the world, they rocked. Oh, how they rocked.

What makes this an even more special event was the fact that they were OPENING for another band (Electric Six, whom I kind of like, but still).

Therefore, Local H only played for about 45 minutes, give or take. Seeing as how this is the only time I saw them in 2008, I'll take what I can get.

Setlist:

Jesus Christ, Did You See the SIZE of That Sperm Whale?

Bag of Hammers

Blur

BMW Man

White Belt Boys

Hands on the Bible

Buffalo Trace

Toxic

Bound for the Floor

Back in the Day

About two songs in, Scott Lucas announced, "This show is brought to you by the letter 'B.'" I was like, "Whatever, dude." But then, as I was dutifully jotting down the setlist, I noticed that, save for the first tune, each song did in fact feature the letter "B" in its title. Hunh. Even "Toxic," which is a cover of a Britney Spears song. Oh, how clever! Why, the drummer's name is Brian St. Clair and Lucas was even sporting a Beatles t-shirt.

Except where did set-opener "...Sperm Whale" fit in the mix?

When I Am King You Will Be First Against the Wall

Saw Radiohead in Indianapolis Sunday night. They were pretty goddammed fantastic. Although the show was at Deer Cree.. oops, I mean, Verizon Wireless Music Center, which is your standard American outdoor concert venue, which means you have to get there six hours before showtime and stake your turf (either that, or pay the extra $25 for actual seats). Being adults, we got there about an hour before opening act Grizzly Bear took the stage (they're good, but nobody came to see them) and we were about as far back as you could get, but the sound was awesome and Radiohead's light show provided plenty of visual interest.

Amusingly enough, the last time I saw Radiohead was at Deer Creek when they opened for R.E.M. on their Monster tour. That was in September of 1995. Time flies.

I was going to call this post "Packt Like Sardines in a Crushd Tin Box," but there was enough elbow room, all things considerd [sic].

Highlights: "Everything In Its Right Place," "Pyramid Song," "Bangers and Mash," "Karma Police" and "Street Spirit." Also, they played every song from In Rainbows, their latest album, which I think is pretty cool. There are many bands who play two or three token tracks from their latest effort and then play what amounts to the same set they always play.

Setlist:
15 Step
Bodysnatchers
There There
All I Need
Pyramid Song
Nude
Weird Fishes/Arpeggi
The Gloaming
Climbing Up the Walls
Faust Arp
Videotape
Morning Bell
Idioteque
Reckoner
Everything In Its Right Place
Just
How to Disappear Completely
- - - - -
You and Whose Army?
Bangers and Mash
Exit Music (For a Film)
Jigsaw Falling Into Place
Karma Police
- - - - -
House of Cards
National Anthem
Street Spirit (Fade Out)

Captain Bligh

Saw Filter last night. A surprising number of my friends think Filter sucks, lumping them in with other also-rans from the '90s altrock boom (e.g., Lit, Seven Mary Three, Better Than Ezra), but for whatever reason, I love the band. Check out their second album, Title of Record.

And they were pretty good, but like it or not, Filter's commercial heyday is long gone, and playing in a two-thirds empty Coyote's was undoubtedly a humbling experience for Filter frontman Richard Patrick. The fact that the crowd was pretty lame didn't help. You could see the energy level onstage decrease with each passing tune. In fact, after playing "Hey Man, Nice Shot," Patrick blithely told us, "We usually walk offstage and let you guys clap for a few minutes, but we won't fuck around with that tonight (paraphrased)." In other words, "Let's get this over with as quickly as possible."

Set list:

Welcome to the Fold

American Cliche

Soldiers of Misfortune

Dose

The Take

Where Do We Go from Here?

(Can't You) Trip Like I Do

It's Gonna Kill Me

Jurassitol

Hey Man, Nice Shot

Take a Picture

Skinny

A Special Night for Everyone

I went to Nashville last Friday and caught Local H live. I have waxed rhapsodic about the magnificence of seeing Local H perform live, so I'll spare you the purple prose, but as always, the band delivered and I was glad I went.

Highlights:
1) No equipment malfunctions, thus no Scott Lucas hissy fits\
2) Three new songs were played; all three are really fucking good (I've heard two of them on the band's MySpace page) and I can't wait until they put out a new album
3) "Buffalo Trace" was played
4) Lucas called out some drunken asshole who passed out on the stage:

Set list:
Them's Fighting Words
Bound for the Floor
Fine and Good
BMW Man
Eddie Vedder
California Songs
Michelle
Hands on the Bible
Buffalo Trace
User
Hey, Rita
All Right (Oh Yeah)
Fritz's Corner
High-Fiving MF
- - - - -
I Like Little Boys
Wolf Like Me (TV on the Radio)
Toxic (Britney Spears)
That's What They All Say/Star-Spangled Banner/Good Night (Cheap Trick)

Big Rock Weekend

Friday, August 3: Road trip to Covington for a show by Interpol. Even though I think their new album has a few dead dead spots, I thought it was a fine show in an interesting venue. And it has to be said: A pleasantly high number of hot hipster chicks were in attendance. It it also has to be said: Carlos D's new frontier dandy look is not half as striking as his Hitler Youth look, mainly because that little douchebag Brandon Flowers beat him to it.

The venue, the Madison Theater, was pretty cool. It was sort of like Louisville's Palace without seats. My pal Shay and I were parked near the sound board. Some guy standing behind me saw me writing down the song titles as best I could and about seven or eight songs into the show asked me if any selections from Interpol's first album had been played. I replied, "Not yet." To which some oaf in a Killers t-shirt (hmmm) turned around and said, "You don't have to stand here if you don't want." Which made absolutely no sense to me or the guy who asked me the question, so we just gave Mr. Killers a who-asked-you-asshole look and he turned around.

But wait, it gets better. The sound techs had several small fans aimed in their direction. Mr. Killers couldn't help touching them and changing them, and he got thrown out, which was, all things considered, pretty fucking hilarious. But at least he didn't have to hear anything from the first Interpol album.

Set list:
Pioneer to the Falls
C'mere
Narc
Slow Hands
Rest My Chemistry
Mammoth
Public Pervert
Pace is the Trick
The Heinrich Maneuver
Evil
Not Even Jail
PDA
- - - - -
NYC
Obstacle 1
Stella Was a Diver
(thanks to Shay for filling in the gaps)

Sunday, August 5: Road trip to downtown Louisville for Queens of the Stone Age at Coyote's, which I had always asumed was a cowboy/biker bar. And it is, but they've been booking rock shows of late (Modest Mouse are scheduled later this month). I was supposed to interview one of the Queens for an article in LEO, but I couldn't make things line up with my schedule (I work a day job), so in the interest of not blowing a deadline, I backed out of the assignment. Which kind of sucked because it meant that comp tickets were not coming anymore, and the admission was $25, which seems a little steep for QOTSA, but whatever -- we got in to Interpol free, so I guess it all evens out. Once agin, Shay was along for the ride, as was our pal Chris. We met at Chris's house in beautiful Jeffersonville, Indiana and had a few adult beverages before we crossed the river for a night of heavy rock.

Now, I dig QOTSA, but I must admit that two of their last three albums have kind of left me underwhelmed. I was especially disappointed by their somewhat patchy third album, Songs for the Deaf, because it came after their start-to-finish brilliant second effort, Rated R. Happily, their newest effort, Era Vulgaris, grew on me after repeated listens, particluarly "I'm Designer," "Make It Wit Chu," "Turnin' on the Screw" and "3's & 7's."

So anyway, I was pretty psyched to see them play live -- especially material from Rated R. I figured "Feel Good Hit of the Summer" and "Lost Art of Keeping a Secret" were both guaranteed, but I was hoping maybe they'd throw in "Auto Pilot" or "Monsters in the Parasol" as well.

The joke was on me: QOTSA completely ignored Rated R. Assholes. It's like Josh Homme read my mind and said, "Let's fuck with this jackass and skip Rated R tonight, boys."

Whatever. It was still a decent show -- they played a lot of stuff from the new disc -- but still a letdown.

This never wopuld have happened if Nick Oliveri was still in the band.

Set list:
Regular John
Do It Again
First It Giveth
Tangled Up in Plaid
3's & 7's
Avon
Into the Hollow
Misfit Love
Suture Up Your Future
Burn the Witch
Turnin' on the Screw
The Fun Machine Took a Shit and Died
Little Sister
Sick, Sick, Sick
Go with the Flow
- - - - -
No One Knows
Song for the Dead

Don't Stand So Close to Me, Or: Packed Like Lemmings into Churchill Downs

The Police performed in Louisville last night. I went. Fantastic weather, fantastic venue (Churchill Downs), fantastic sound, fantastic show.

Set list:
Message in a Bottle
Synchronicity II
Walking on the Moon
Voices Inside My Head/When the World Is Running Down
Don't Stand So Close to Me
Driven to Tears
Truth Hits Everybody
The Bed's Too Big Without You
Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic
Wrapped Around Your Finger
De Do Do Do De Da Da Da
Invisible Sun
Walking in Your Foootsteps
Can't Stand Losing You/Regatta de Blanc/Can't Stand Losing You
Roxanne
- - - - -
King of Pain
So Lonely
- - - - -
Every Breath You Take
- - - - -
Next to You

Tool Time

Saw Tool in Evansville last night. A damn fine show.

Set list:
Jambi
Stinkfist
46 & 2
Schism
Lost Keys (Blame Hofmann)
Rosetta Stoned
Flood
Wings for Marie Part 1
10,000 Days (Wings for Marie Part2)
Lateralus
Vicarious


Lots of extended material. During "Lateralus," members of opening act Melt Banana joined Tool for an instrumental freakout.

Slight problems: Maynard James Keenan's vocals were low in the mix, but for all I know, that may have been intentional -- he's not your standard metal band frontman. Also, this being Evansville, there were plenty of rednecks, hillbillies and other assorted white trash in the audience. My favorite was the one who started moshing during the slow, understated part of "Wings for Marie," which is a song about the death of Keenan's mother.

Those Who Sneer Will Fade and Die

One summer day 20+ odd years ago, I bought Ultravox’s 1981 LP Rage in Eden at the Book Broker for $2. I was just barely cognizant of Ultravox because I had seen portions of their “Vienna” video on USA’s Night Flight, and the reason I remembered them at all was more because I thought their name was cool rather than “Vienna” making much of an impact on me. But when I glimpsed Rage in Eden’s elegant Peter Saville-designed sleeve* and I put it together that this was indeed that Ultravox, I knew I had to purchase it. So I did.


And best of all, I wasn’t disappointed after I pedaled home, fired up the stereo and put on the headphones. Rage in Eden showed that synthesizer-driven new wave music needn’t necessarily be synonymous with shitty bands and singing haircuts (e.g., A Flock of Seagulls, the Human League, Modern English). And even though I can understand why some people might find Midge Ure’s vocal stylings a tad bombastic and overblown, I really like the way he sings on this album. He belts it out like nobody’s business (“We Stand Alone,” “The Thin Wall”), but he can also dial it down a notch for more subtle shadings (e.g., “Your Name (Has Slipped My Mind Again),” the title tune). My favorite cut from Rage in Eden is easily “The Thin Wall,” a bouncy little number with vaguely sardonic lyrics (“They shuffle with a bovine grace and glide in syncopation”) and mountains of symphonic synthesizers.

So from that day on, I was heavily into Ultravox. About a year later, I got my first job (at Hardee’s (shut up)) and with my very first paycheck, I purchased brand-new copies of Vienna and Lament at the Disc Jockey in Eastland Mall. Vienna came out before Rage in Eden and was Ure’s first with the band, while 1984’s Lament would prove to be the “classic” line-ups final release, as drummer Warren Cann split after its release (the remaining three members – Ure, Chris Cross and Billy Currie – released an album called U-Vox in 1986 but I have never heard it).

Both Vienna and Lament are great records. The former features the epic “Vienna,” of course, as well as more straightforward, rocking numbers like “Passing Strangers” and “New Europeans,” plus stylistic holdovers from their previous incarnation as a more glam/Krautrock outfit with the spoken-word character study “Mr. X” and the sweeping, soaring, cinematic instrumental “Astradyne.”


Lament is a slightly different kettle of fish. The best songs are all frontloaded on Side 1, making Side 2 seem a little underserved, so I took the liberty of rearranging the album’s running order and dubbing a cassette version for myself. Purists will be aghast that I tampered with an artist’s original vision, but I really think my version flows better than the official sequence.

Original:
Side 1
"White China"
"One Small Day"
"Dancing with Tears in My Eyes"
"Lament"
Side 2
"Man of Two Worlds"
"Heart of the Country"
"When the Time Comes"
"A Friend I Call Desire"

DMBYSC Special Mix:
Side 1
"White China"
"Man of Two Worlds"
"Dancing with Tears in My Eyes"
"When the Time Comes"
Side 2
"One Small Day"
"Heart of the Country"
"A Friend I Call Desire"
"Lament"

Of course, the CD version of Lament features numerous extended remixes, two b-sides and two instrumental versions, but I didn't have those on vinyl. Feel free to dig out your own copies of Lament and listen to both running orders and let me know what you think.

*In a recent Q/Mojo special edition, Peter Saville rather unprofessionally mentioned that the work he did for Ultravox (and there was quite a bit of it) was phoned in, but I’ll be damned if they’re still not cool-looking album sleeves.

Hail Hydra, Immortal Hydra

Way back in 1979-80 – can’t remember the exact year -- my dad had a WGBF bumper sticker on his car. He was driving home from work one night when the “WGBF Prize Fan” spotted the sticker pulled him over.

(How a radio station vehicle effects such a traffic stop is unknown to me, but that’s irrelevant to this anecdote.)

The prize van’s pilot dumped a few t-shirts, a Frisbee and a few more bumper stickers on Vitamin J Sr., but best of all, they gave him a “six-pack” of vinyl LPs. So dad came home that night with an armload of promo stuff. I was already heavily into the music by that point, so I was most intrigued to see what records the old man had scored.

Half of them were so memorable that I cannot for the life of me recall what they were, although I do remember that I was dismayed that they all had little notches and holes punched in the sleeves – as I would later discover, this is the mark of the promotional release.

The three that I do remember included some band called Oak, Permanent Waves by Rush and Hydra by Toto. It wasn’t until much later in my life that I realized that all of the records were by artists that weren’t exactly in heavy rotation on WGBF’s airwaves, and that the station’s largesse wasn’t motivated so much by spreading the wealth as it was getting rid of records they weren’t going to play and were therefore just cluttering up the offices.

Regardless of motives, I was pretty impressed by the fact that a little bumper sticker had enabled someone to score six albums at one pop. I was a little less impressed when dad announced that he already knew a few people at work who would give him a few bucks for the records, as I kind of had assumed he’d let me keep them all. Worst of all, Permanent Waves went out the door the next day, so I eventually had to buy my own copy after I got heavily into Rush in the eighth grade.

But there apparently weren’t any Toto fans where my dad worked, and I was able to hang on to Hydra. The album was the follow-up to their epononymous debut record, which contained the hit “Hold the Line,” so I knew who Toto were, vaguely, and better still, Hydra’s first single, “99,” was in the Top 40, so I had heard it a few times. “99” is a slow, introspective ballad with lots of keyboards. I used to think that it was semi-orchestrated as well, but what I originally thought was a horn section turned out to be synthesizers meant to sound like horns.

Anyhow, “99” excepted, I didn’t know what to expect when I first listened to Hydra, but I dropped the needle and let the magic unfold.

I almost always read the liner notes before I listen to any album, and although the lyrics were included in Hydra’s packaging, mysteriously, only the opening phrase from each of “Hydra’s” verses are presented in brackets for some reason, i.e., [[There was a man]]; [There was a lady]]; [[There was a dragon lord]]. I’ve always wondered why the full lyrics weren’t incorporated, but it made the song seem more enigmatic than its companions.

The song fades in on an ominous orghan chord and then just as quickly fades out on a heavy sound that always reminded me of some big sea creature plopping down out in the depths of the ocean – Davy Jones’s locker made audible. There’s some barely audible humming and other assorted studio tomfoolery before the song properly gets underway...

“Hydra” the song tells a story that any middle school-aged geek would find tantalizing, something about the abovementioned dragon lord, throats getting cut, freedom versus love, all the important stuff. Better yet, its music kicks ass. Although the tune is credited as a group compositin, it’s quite obviously maing songwriter David Paich’s baby. Paich plays keyboards, so the song has tons of ‘em – organ, piano, synthesizers – and they’re all used to great effect.

Next track is “St. George and the Dragon,” and at this point, it seems as if Toto has some kind of mythological creature-themed concept album going here. “St. George” is definitely a companion pice to “Hydra,” although it’s much more upbeat.

Next is “99,” which is a good piece of solid adult contemporary pop craftsmanship with faux-jazz flourishes during its extended outro. The wisdom of addressing a lover as “99” gioves the song a vaguely SF aura, and it turns out Paich was inspired by the movie THX-119. It would have been cooler if he had written it in tribute to Agent 99 from Get Smart. Barbara Feldon was pretty cute back in the day.

Back to Hydra. Side 1 concludes with “Lorraine,” which uses the soft verse, loud chorus dynamic that would be later used to great effect by such acts as Husker Du, the Pixies and Nirvana, none of whom would be caught dead listening to a Toto record. This is not to say that “Lorraine” sounds like Nirvana – far from it. They just share a basic structural similarity, especially if Nirvana had used lots of piano and synthesizers and fretless bass.

Side 2 is the less accessible half of Hydra but it’s still pretty enjoyable. “All Us Boys” is yet another entry in that canon of songs about male bonding, and as a seventh grader, I assumed that as soon as I got my driver’s license, I too would find a posse of rowdy hooligans with which to drink, smoke and carouse. The song is not quite as balls-out as it perhaps it should be, given the subject matter, but as with all the tracks on the album, it is impeccably crafted.

Now, impeccable craftsmanship goes against everything that rock ‘n’ roll is supposed to stand for, but this is Toto, which, it should be noted, was comprised of six seasoned veterans of the Los Angeles studio musician circuit. For example, most of the band played on Boz Scaggs’s big hit records from the ‘70s, and nothing defines MOR slick lite rock like Boz Scaggs. Hell, Paich co wrote “Lowdown” and “Lido Shuffle,” two tracks for which I have more of these warm fuzzy childhood memories. Regardless, the band’s pedigree amply illustrates the fact that they could play the living shit out of their instruments, particularly Lukather and bassist David Hungate.

So anyway, after “All Us Boys” comes “Mama,” which serves as a showcase for singer Bobby Kimball’s vocal chops. Although Kimball was ostensibly Toto’s lead vocalist, three other band members take turns at the microphone: Guitarist Steve Lukather sings “99,” keyboardist Steve Porcaro sings “A Secret Love,” and Paich sings “Hydra,” “Lorraine” and “All Us Boys.” Regrettably, it kind of proves Toto’s critics right by saying that I assumed all of the above-listed tunes were sung by Paich because the three Toto guys who aren’t Kimball all have similar phrasing and vocal tones, i.e., they sound alike, which is probably why Toto was always denigrated as being bland and nondescript.

Next is “White Sister,” which is sort of a companion piece to “Mama” – more woman-done-me wrong brought to life by Kimball’s over-the-top wailing (“over-the-top” is not used pejoratively here). The album wraps up with “A Secret Love,” which serves almost as an aural after-dinner mint or something; it’s slight and airy, but deliberately so.

For somebody who has railed against the evils of Chuck Klosterman and the pointless self-referential anecdote, I realize that this entry could have been a whole lot more succinct had I eliminated the whole prize van build-up and written a straight album review, but I felt the need to couch my appreciation for this slice of classic rock heaven with a qualifying preface, i.e., “I was in grade school so I didn’t know that Toto were terminally uncool.” And even though I like to think that I never apologize or make excuses for my tastes, I couldn’t help myself for some reason. Because, well, it’s Toto.

But still. There’s something beautiful and magical about that time in your life before your critical facilities are fully formed, before your adult sensibilities are in place, when your tastes are at their purest, most unfiltered and you’re not too cool to like something.

I’ve written before about my teen years and how I rejected most of the music I liked pre-high school because I thought I was above the pleasures of classic rock and heavy metal, in some sort of adolescent attempt to “put away childish things.” This was before I realized that replacing Cheap Trick and KISS with the Buzzcocks and Husker Du only makes you look cooler to your fellow rock snobs (which is not to say that I never really liked the Buzzcocks or Husker Du -- I'm just using them as examples). In the real world, almost nobody cares what kind of music you listen to. And besides, just as one can appreciate and enjoy both White Castle and filet mignon, so too can one enjoy both the Cars and Van der Graaf Generator.

If you like it, it’s good. That’s really all that matters. And by that definition, Hydra is a great record.

Um, yeah, sorry that wasn’t exactly earth-shattering in its profundity…

Set Fire to the Arcade Fire

Don’t get me wrong; I like the Arcade Fire just fine. It’s just that in the media blitz that accompanied the release of their latest album, I’ve been seeing a lot of publicity stills of the band in the newspapers, magazines and online publications of which I am so fond. And, in addition to the Arcade Fire’s dress code, which can be best described as “Mennonite pallbearer,” I’ve noticed something.

Look at the red-headed guy. The one with the slack jaw. The one who always has to be doing something slightly and ever so self-consciously different from his more somber bandmates. His name is Richard Reed Parry (Three names! How very bookish and intellectual!). Li’l Ricky seems to think he looks adorable and quirky when he poses this way, but he just looks like an inbred geek. Sure, he’s in the Arcade Fire, but that makes it even more annoying, if that’s possible.

Like in the picture above. It’s as if the photographer said, “OK, everybody look at the camera – except you, Howdy Doody. I want you to stare distractedly into the middle distance so that everybody who sees this photo will know what a special little snowflake you are.”

Every time I see one of these images, I want to beat this fucktard with a crowbar until blood is coming out of his ears – and even then, I bet he’d still have that doofus expression on his face.

Of course, if Ricky really is retarded or something, I’ll feel bad.

'90s Revival Starts Here

If it isn’t already underway, that is.

I was listening to Nine Inch Nails’s Broken EP today in my car. Before that, Dirt by Alice in Chains. Before that, Suede’s first album. Before that, Loveless by My Bloody Valentine. I did this totally by accident, but then I realized that all these albums came out around the same time (1991-1993). Interesting.

So I started thinking about what music came out way back then. Lots of good shit, actually.

Such as:

Nirvana Nevermind and In Utero
Matthew Sweet Girlfriend
Soundgarden Badmotorfinger
XTC Nonsuch
Sugar Copper Blue
k.d. lang Ingénue
Ride Going Blank Again
Ministry Psalm 69
The Church Priest=Aura
Lush Spooky
Blur Leisure
St. Etienne Foxbase Alpha
Julian Cope Peggy Suicide
Massive Attack Blue Lines
Fugazi Steady Diet of Nothing
P.J. Harvey Dry and Rid of Me
Dr. Dre The Chronic
Tool Opiate
Morrissey Your Arsenal
Type O Negative Bloody Kisses
Smashing Pumpkins Siamese Dream
Teenage Fanclub Bandwagonesque
Urge Overkill Saturation

Of course, I imagine I could pick any random year and find 10-20 CDs that were pretty cool, but still.

And this is not to say that 1992 was a musical paradise: that was also the year that Eric Clapton put out that utterly maudlin piece of shit “Tears in Heaven” from his stripped-down Unplugged album (if, by “stripped-down” you mean three guitars, a keyboard player, a bassist, a drummer AND a percussionist plus a trio of backing vocalists – mighty gutsy of you there, Slowhand).

Where was I?

What’s funnier is that from what I recall, I was always unhappy and/or pissed off back then, and yet I’m loving this little musical trip down memory lane.

Blasts from the Past

Why are the negative reviews always the ones that turn out the best?

STAIND
The Singles: 1996-2006
(Flip/Atlantic)

There’s a thin line between moody introspection and narcissistic self-pity, and for such a burly, scary-looking guy, Staind’s frontman Aaron Lewis is quite a whiny douchebag. From a lyrical perspective, he makes Morrissey look like David Lee Roth. But I guess if I owed my career to Fred Durst, I’d be depressed, too.

It’s not that Staind are the worst band ever; when they rock out, they’re a passable metal act. But the group’s turgid, monochromatic balladry – that is, the bulk of this compilation -- is music for bedwetters.

Closing the disc with covers of tunes by three vastly superior bands (Pink Floyd, Alice in Chains, Tool) was a huge mistake on two levels. First, it spotlights how much of Staind’s sound was swiped from Tool and Alice in Chains. Second, it underscores the mediocrity of Staind’s own material.
- - - - -
SHERYL CROW
The Very Best of Sheryl Crow
(A&M)

For a former Wacko Jacko backing vocalist, Sheryl Crow has done pretty well for herself. Her signature blend of roots rock, folk, pop and country made her a star and allowed her to rack up hit after MOR hit in a decade-long career, plus she’s kept various former members of cult acts like David + David and Wire Train rolling in fat royalty checks and otherwise gainfully employed. Musically, Crow’s material has enough grit to allow soccer moms to feel like they’re rocking out when they buy her discs, while her compositional skills assure a solid level of quality and craft goes into every track. The consummate pro, in other words, and The Very Best of Sheryl Crow is a fine encapsulation of her career thus far. All the big hits are here, but unfortunately, so is her execrable duet with Kid Rock (“Picture”), a country tune that’s an unintentional parody of country music, but I guess that’s why God put skip buttons on CD players.
- - - - -
This is something I did that previewed a then-upcoming event. I thought it was pretty funny. Took me less than five minutes.

I always thought the Transformers were a cheap-ass Shogun Warriors rip-off, but the joke’s on Raydeen, Gaiking and Dangard Ace, because next year, a live-action Transformers movie hits the big screen. But riddle me this: Did you know that the song "You've Got the Touch," as performed by Mark Wahlberg in Boogie Nights, is originally from the animated 1984 Transformers movie?

Regardless, if you live and die for all things Transformers, you won’t want to miss – I shit you not – BotCon. The convention allows fans to talk shop with designers, take drawing classes, preview new figures, and most importantly, buy, sell and trade the toys around which their lives are based.

The fun runs Sep. 30-Oct 1 at the Lexington Convention Center: Bluegrass Ballroom (430 W Vine St, Lexington, Ky. – ask mom to drive you). Tickets are $9 for adults, $5 for kids (under 4: free).

Listmania

Year-end "Best Of!" You knew this was coming. Eventually.

The first five albums listed below are what I submitted to LEO.

The stuff after is what I submitted to the Idolator “Jackin’ Pop” poll. Thankfully, I didn’t have to write capsule descriptions for this poll.

I always miss a few CDs – I am but one man with a mere 24 hours in each day, just like you mortals -- and this year was no exception: Had I heard the Knife’s “We Share Our Mother's Health” before last week, it would’ve made my “Best Singles” list for certain. And so on.

Thus:

BELLE & SEBASTIAN The Life Pursuit (Matador): A brilliantly consistent disc from a brilliantly consistent band, Pursuit added traces of glam (“White Collar Boy”), boogie rock (“The Blues Are Still Blue”) and psychedelic soul (“Song for Sunshine”) to their already impressive palette. They’re great live, too.

WOLFMOTHER (Interscope): This Aussie power trio takes damn near everything that was cool about ‘70s hard rock – power chords, heavy organ fills, white afros -- and regurgitates it for the here and now.

ARCTIC MONKEYS Whatever People Say I Am, That’s What I’m Not (Domino): Young, loud and snotty. Hooks aplenty. Debut of the year. Et cetera.

GOLDFRAPP Supernature (Mute) Justin Timberlake said he was bringing sexy back this year. Too bad that Allison Goldfrapp beat him to the punch: she’s 10 times sexier than that pantywaist, as “Lovely 2 C U” and “Number 1” demonstrate. Plus she could kill him with her bare hands. She wins.

TOOL 10,000 Days (Volcano): Critics who don’t really listen to much metal will genuflect over Mastodon’s Blood Mountain this year, but Tool’s record is a much more varied, coherent and ultimately, much more satisfying listen. Deal with it.

Then:

Local H, ’99-’00 Demos (G&P)

Raconteurs Broken Boy Soldiers (V2)

Your Black Star Sound from the Ground (Wonkavision)

Cold War Kids Robbers & Cowards (Downtown)

Scott Walker The Drift (4AD)

Singles:

“Crazy” Gnarls Barkley

“Steady, As She Goes” Raconteurs

“Shoot the Runner” Kasabian

“Lloyd, I’m Ready to Be Heartbroken” Camera Obscura

“Nobody Move, Nobody Get Hurt” We Are Scientists

“So Far We Are” French Kicks

“Wolf Like Me” TV on the Radio

“Redneck” Lamb of God

“The First Vietnamese War” Black Angels

“Throw It All Away” Zero 7

Reissues:

Pulp This Is Hardcore (Island)

Cheap Trick Dream Police (Epic Legacy)

The Clash The Singles Box (Epic Legacy)

T. Rex Tanx (Rhino)

Depeche Mode Violator (Mute)

Good Riddance

Got an e-mail from a publicist. Let's read, shall we?

AFTER 13 YEARS TOGETHER, THE STRING CHEESE INCIDENT ANNOUNCES AN END.

The String Cheese Incident posted an announcement on their website on Friday, November 3, 2006. The post reads:

After summer 2007, Billy Nershi is leaving The String Cheese Incident to pursue other musical projects. There will be only a limited number of Incidents between now and then. Current plans include Thanksgiving in Atlanta, a New Years Eve blowout in San Francisco, Winter Carnival in Colorado, and a return to Red Rocks. Presently, there are no plans for The String Cheese Incident beyond summer of 2007.

The band would like to extend a heartfelt thank you to our friends and fans for all your support.

As you may recall, I don't like jam bands very much, so this news means nothing to me.

Could Be Cool...

...but then, Dehumanizer wasn't -- maybe because Bill Ward didn't play drums on that one?

LOS ANGELES (AP) -- The Black Sabbath boys are back, as the new band Heaven and Hell. Guitarist Tony Iommi, bassist Geezer Butler, drummer Bill Ward and singer Ronnie James Dio—former members of British metal supergroup Black Sabbath—are forming the band named after their 1980 hit, according to their publicist. They plan to launch an international tour next year.

“The fans have been wanting to see this for years and years. Now was just the time,” publicist Maureen O’Connor said Wednesday.

Original Sabbath vocalist Ozzy Osbourne said in a statement that he wished Iommi and Dio well, and he made it clear there was still only one Black Sabbath.

“Tony Iommi and Ronnie Dio are working on a project together which has nothing to do with Black Sabbath. There is only one Black Sabbath,” Osbourne said in the statement released by publicist Lathum Nelson.

“Ozzy, Tony, Geezer and Bill will be touring late next year along with a new Black Sabbath album,” Nelson said. “However, Ozzy wishes Tony and Ronnie much success in their project together.”

Since its formation in 1969, Black Sabbath has undergone numerous member changes and reunions.

Dio, who replaced Osbourne as part of the band’s early ‘80s lineup, has been recording new songs with Iommi in England, O’Connor said.

Tower Collapses

Tower Records is going out of business.

This is not news in the strictest sense of the word because it was announced October 6, but I think the situation merits an editorial in the inimitable DMBYSC manner you know and love.

So, Tower is closing its stores. For many years, Tower has been a destination store for music nerds like me. I've visited Tower stores in New York, Los Angeles, Chicago, Philadelphia, Washington DC, New Orleans, Dallas and, most frequently, Nashville. Yes, I've led a rich and full life. "Liberty Bell? Fuck that shit, let's go to Tower and check out the imports."

Jen and I were in Nashville Oct. 6-8 visiting Tony and Sarah. We were driving around when we saw some fool wearing a sandwich board that read, "Tower Records/Store Closing/Up to 30% Off All Merchandise," along with some miniscule fine print. So off we went to check out the store and see if there were any great deals to be had. There weren't, because practically everything, including CDs, was a mere 10% off. I ended up buying a Madness comp because a) I'd seen that Maxwell House commercial that uses "Our House" and I had the song stuck in my head and b) it was stickered at $9.99, which was incredibly cheap for Tower, and with 10% off, I got it for under $10 (just barely, but still).

And that's what killed Tower, I think. I'm so used to seeing new CDs priced in the $8.99-$13.99 range that whenever I dropped into a Tower store over the last few years there was always a moment of sticker shock when I'd see all the new CDs "on sale" for $15.99 or whatever. I'm all for supporting independent music stores and the like, but I'm also all for supporting myself, so if I can find something cheaper at Target, Best Buy or online, I'll buy it there. It's a no-brainer.

Many of the articles and obituaries that have flooded the interwebs since the big announcement have focused on the sales clerks and their deep musical knowledge, painting pictures of helpful Tower employees roaming the store, striking up conversations with shoppers, making recommendations and turning them on to artists they might not have otherwise discovered, which never happened to me -- all the Towers I visited were populated with snotty hipster douchebag assholes straight out of central casting who would sulk behind the counter as if chained there, dressed in their too-tight "vintage" t-shirts purchased pre-distressed at Urban Outfitters, just so painfully mortified that they had to mingle with people who might actually listen to something other than Deerhoof or Panic! At The Disco or whoever Pitchfork told them was hip that month. Consequently, I mainly bought magazines and toys -- yes, toys -- from Tower and I bought my music online (or I got review copies straight from the publicist, hee hee).

But still. I feel depressed that Tower has bitten the dust. This is an instance where the phrase "the end of an era" genuinely applies.

Listen Up

Oh, sweet music. Here's what I'm listening to "professionally."

Mastodon Blood Mountain: Awesome music, retarded lyrics about abominable snowmen, dragons and tree people. Plus, it’s a concept album. Thankfully, the lyrics are mostly unintelligible, but it’s hard to take a band seriously when they geek out so hard. Review should run in LEO soon.

Pinebender Working Nine to Wolf: These guys sound like Low, if Low played metal. Dense slabs of rock that crawl along at a pace best described as glacial. I love it. I have no idea what the title means.

Planes Mistaken for Stars Mercy: Their name makes them sound like emo douchebags, but they aren’t. Kinda metal, kinda hardcore, but not metalcore. Hard to describe, but I’m gonna try (in LEO, so I can get paid).

I seem to have been pigeonholed as "the metal guy." There are a lot worse things to be pegged as, but naturally I consider myself to be a multifaceted jewel and shit; I can appreciate (or dismiss with authority) music of all kinds.

Rock and Roll Hell

Kiss guitarist turned down by Supreme Court

WASHINGTON (AP) -- Ex-Kiss guitarist Vinnie Vincent lost a Supreme Court appeal Monday in a dispute over royalties with his former bandmates.

Justices declined to consider lower court rulings dismissing Vincent's claim that he is owed royalties for his contributions to the heavy metal band's 1983 album Lick It Up.

Vincent, whose real name is Vincent Cusano, played with Kiss from 1982 to 1984, co-writing "I Love it Loud," "Lick it Up" and other songs.

The case is Cusano v. Klein, 05-1492.

(Copyright 2006 by The Associated Press. All Rights Reserved.)

"Klein" would be Gene Klein (nee Chaim Witz), a.k.a. Gene Simmons, FYI.

From what I've read on the interwebs -- which are, of course, the most trustworthy and accurate source of information anywhere, ever -- Vinnie Vincent is a real pain in the ass. He also should have read his contract with Kiss a little more closely. Simmons would sooner cut off his own dick than enter a business deal that doesn't favor Simmons.