Suck Up

Hey kids, how goes it?


For me, it goes pretty well. Long day at the office, but then after a three day weekend they're all long. The upside is that the week is shorter. Yesterday's post was a little intense, right? A little to much of a look into my personal side and not just an advocacy for awesome things we've forgotten. How's about we fix that with the opposite, something poppy, bubble-gummy and easy to sing along to, with none of the guilt that comes with socio-political factors and grand-scale machinations? Let's cut to the heart of the issue.


Sometimes when describing why I do this, why I expend hundreds of words each day on something we've all moved past, I try of think of an example, something to codify what drives me. The subject of today's post is absolutely on the nose in regard to mt raison d'etre. You see, back in the mid 90s I had only a burgeoning internet set up - nothing even remotely close to how we're all spoiled today, where we can stream Netflix at 10,000 feet (but don't do that please, you ruin the in-flight wi-fi for everyone else). When I saw a video on MTV I had three options - never hear it again, pray it got airplay or just buy the song myself, which usually involved more cash than I could spare. Wanting the most bang for my buck, if I liked a band I would take a risk on the whole album and not just the single. A great band would reward me with an amazing album, like when hearing one Smashing Pumpkins song convinced me to buy the sprawling Mellon Collie & The Infinite Sadness. Other times, not so much.

Sometimes, as I've certainly shared, there have been songs that earned a week or two of buzz on MTV, only to disappear into the ether, to be summoned only when I hear them at a bar or a random spin through the iTunes store. I'm done pirating music - too many of my friends and family are musicians and artists for me to lie to myself about how it's okay and justifiable. It's simply not, no matter the reasoning. So every now and then a song pops into my head, summoned by some random stimuli, to bring me whooshing back to older days when I first hear them. This past weekend I was having lunch with at my in-laws abode, strumming on an acoustic guitar when I suddenly recalled a snippet of alt-rock I once loved. It was the flash-in-the-pan, gloriously conceived 'Sucked Out' by (sorry guys) one hit wonders Superdrag.

Being deigned 'Buzz Bin' worthy by MTV in the mid 90s earned them a bit of praise and attention for their major-label decrying single 'Sucked Out', which was a fantastically written little pop song about losing the feeling in purpose. It's a great song with a simple, accessible and hooky style that immediately grabs the listener and won't let go until you're singing along with the hook. The song (and accompanying video) have this great Kinks vibe to them, accentuating the clean guitar parts and retro feel to the track, which showed the promise that Superdrag had. Sadly, the band never hit the same heights, despite constant touring and subsequent albums. The took a hiatus in 2003, only to reconvene in 2009, to high praise.

I had totally forgotten this great song and how I wanted more of the video back when it would play sporadically on MTV. I hated the elusive nature of never being able to pin down songs and hear them more than once without shelling out more than a few dollars. Now I'm okay with 99 cents going towards having it forever. This band had a phenomenal hit that a ton of people loved and enjoyed, only now we forget that it was ever there. Hopefully you can remember why it was great. It really, really was.

Climb And Fall

So ends a lovely weekend, seemingly the first of the fall.

It was a gorgeous weekend, especially today. There was that crisp, clear feeling in the air where you know the leaves are going to change and people start to dress a little warmer. Fewer flip flops and more sweatshirts. I've been waiting for fall just to bust out my good sweaters. I love a good scarf.

I woke up early today. Took the rare day off to run around the lakes here, enjoying the morning sun and peace and quiet afforded by a dearth of crowds. When I walked them with my better half later in the day, there understandably was a crush of people - it was a beautiful day, why not? This morning though - I had my shuffle but didn't have it on the whole time. I listened to the day, my feet hitting the pavement, the leaves rustling in the wind, the occasional one falling in anticipation of the dreaded W word. Eventually my exercise got to be taxing enough of a task that I had to break the silence. I put on one song and really listened to it for the next 18 minutes as I wound around Lake Calhoun. It was The Decline. It was NOFX.

Say what you want about punk music - you can't deny that when a group applies itself, it can do impressive feats and make you think. The Fat Wreck Chords stalwarts have long been known for their flippant attitudes, punny wordplay and punchy songs that often clock in at under two minutes. Imagine my surprise then when they flipped all expectations on their head when they released the sprawling, 18 minute epic The Decline. In the track, NOFX tackle what they perceive to be the symptoms and causes of the American decline. Hopping from one subject to another, the band checks almost every box on the typical list of what ails America. It's a weird thing to listen to while on Labor Day, watching the sun rise as you zip around a gorgeous lake, but man if I wasn't paying rapt attention and following each leap in thought process. 

Regardless of where you stand in politics, I can at least break one preconceived notion you may have about this magnum opus - it has nothing to do with Bush or Obama. It was released back in 1999, in a world that preceded the game changer that was the attacks. The fact that the song was practically written in a political vacuum so far removed from today's vipers nest of rhetoric (from all sides) gives it more significance in my mind. It's not merely a commentary on where we currently find ourselves - it just so happens to have persistently relevant subject matter. The mini opera has suites in it that touch on everything from the fear of change to mindless agreement and stagnation to the basic inconsistencies of the judicial and prison system. Amazingly it hits all of them with insightful, melodic wit. I find, though, that the most affecting suite in the song isn't about politics but about personal suffering. The lines about serotonin being gone, giving up and drifting away to be relate-able and heartrendingly cold and clinical. Amid all the political discourse it's the most human element I connect to.

Sure, we can give Green Day all the credit in the world for reinventing their band and making large scale, multiple-staged arrangements, but NOFX beat them to the punch by half a decade. I'm sure a fair number of you will dismiss the song without hearing it, but you would benefit to hear it just to start the process of thinking "Am I aware of what goes on in a larger sense?" This is particularly relevant in light of the anniversary of the attacks on the horizon - our climate is filled with empty rhetoric on all sides. Why not hear an artfully arranged, cohesive and logical take on what we can do to improve things? At the least, you'll hear an amazing work of music. Fall is on the way. Just not society's.

Feel The Flow

Evening, gang.


I hope you're having a great long weekend. I know I am. Its been a day of lounging, interspersed with a cocktail and some salsa from yesterday's cooking extravaganza. Had the windows open for a cool September afternoon. While entertaining some guests tonight, a song came on my iPod that made me nod my head to myself, not interrupting the evening, because I love it but didn't want to interrupt an anecdote. So here I am, sneaking off to write a few words about one of my favorite modern rock tracks of the last ten years.

The rock royalty I speak of is none other than Queens of the Stone Age. The super group burst onto the scene in the beginning of the millennium with their amazing album Songs for the Deaf, an album featuring the amazingly powerful drum work of Dave Grohl. The album was an almost immediate hit, propelled in part by the phenomenal single 'No One Knows', a raucous romper whose dark tones suggest the spooky air of Halloween. I adore that song, but its the easy hit, we all know it and its fantastic. What I think is even better, though, is the second single off the album - the short and concise power pop of 'Go With The Flow'. 

I melt for this song. Released in 2003, the single 'Go With The Flow' is a bit of an anomaly - it didn't feel like anything else on the radio. It's this super-condensed little number, hurtling from lily pad to lily pad to avoid sinking, speeding from one section of the song to another to avoid sinking under its own weight. It starts with no flair, just rolling right into the song. It ends the same way - no fanfare, just an abrupt end with no announcement. The sections of the tune are all mixed in a like minded sound, but constructed in a cut and paste manner. It's a tight number with no frills, just a few guitar lead overdubs and some lightly played keys in the background. This sparse approach plays in its favor, though. There's a straight-forward desperation and urgency to the song, a dark undercurrent snaking through the heart of it. The video clip for the song only adds to the unspoken menace already present. Featuring an affecting, minimalist color scheme that utilizes its lack of color to make a dramatic impact, the video is just as intense as the track. In it, the band rocks out in the bed of speeding pickup as they motor through the desert on a collision course with another vehicle.

'Go With The Flow' is an amazing song. It's nothing grandiose or mind-blowing, but it's a solid, serviceable song that manages to have cojones in this neutered, modern era. It's a rare song that has teeth in a cold, calculated world. The album that it hails from is great, along with the other singles on it that we already know. Do yourself a favor and get acquainted with how great this Queens of the Stone Age song is before Halloween rolls in - it's a great dark, ominous rocker that can help you get ready for a wild night out on All Hallow's Eve. I'll see you cats tomorrow for another post. Adieu.

Fall Spring

What's the good word?


It's been a beautiful day, here. Relaxed. Hit the farmer's market. Went for a run around the lakes. My better half made four different kinds of salsa from scratch, which means I am full of peppers of all types. Life is good. It's a crisp, clear fall night and I feel good about things. While I was running, another frenetic punk track came on my shuffle that took me back to my former years. It's manic, blasting and full of piss and vinegar. It's also a hell of a single, one that came was released at an odd time. I'm referring to 'All I Want' by The Offspring. Sure, I'm guessing most of you have heard it from its use in the Dreamcast game Crazy Taxi, but I remember being blown away by it when it first came out.

The Offspring are kind of an odd band. They make a very specific kind of music - its punk, no doubt, but it also is kind of static and removed. I don't mean to slag the band at all, I just find them to be playing from a place I don't connect with. I guess I dug Smash when it came out. Their singles are always pretty reliable for a good listen. But they seem to have this middling sense of non-descriptiveness that keeps them from being really distinct. Simply continuing to exist as a band isn't enough to warrant my attention. It ought to be strong, right? Maybe I'm just being a jerk. Anyway, point is I've never been a huge fan of the Offspring, especially once 'Pretty Fly for a White Guy' broke big. It just seemed obnoxious. I did dig them, though, when they were at their most passionate and intense, the rare sincere song breaking through their gimmicky discography.

Released in December of 1996, 'All I Want' was the lead single off their 1997 album Ixnay on the Hombre, an album that didn't really break new ground for the band. They had had a huge success with Smash but this album was a bit more of the same. This song, though, always has struck a nerve with me. It's intense and urgent, somehow more desperate than their other offerings. Maybe it can be traced back to the chord progression, or Dexter Holland's bleak wailing of the title over the refrain. Whatever it is, there is something very vivid happening here. The lyrics speak of desperation and wanting to change life for the better. It's not a grand Bad Religion-esque take on political machinations, but it sounds like one in its instrumentation. The main riffs are definitely in the Epitaph wheelhouse. The vocals, delivered in Holland's every-man, no frills manner, are simple and sincere. The song is short, sweet and powerful.

This isn't the best endorsement for The Offspring, but then again I don't have strong allegiance to the band. They've never really done it for me. This song, though, has always been a bright spot in what I perceive to be a substandard canon. I certainly love my California punk bands, especially on Epitaph, but The Offspring have never made much of an impression on me other than this song. It's fantastic, a vibrant buzz saw cutting through the radio at the time it was released. Now I look back and see it for the great little ditty it was. It mostly gives me a boost as I run these days. Doesn't mean it's  a bad song - quite the opposite, in fact. It's fantastic. I just with the band did more like it. 

Addictive Sound

Hey gang, happy long weekend.

As summer is drawing to a close I find myself looking back at other memorable summers. I've written before about the time spent working as a carpenter's apprentice and the music I listened to at the time. While I was certainly attached to my portable CD player (which is amazing it ever worked, in hindsight) I also spent a fair amount of time on the job fiddling with radio knobs to pick up the distant stations from the Twin Cities. These stations were way better than anything else I could get at the time, which was either pop, country, talk or religious. I could not stand any of those. Working on houses far, far out in the goon docks allowed for a faint but clear signal to whisper in, the most treasured being the hard rock station 93X, playing all kinds of music I loved but couldn't lug around with me in CD form. On top of that, the carpenter hated the abrasive sounds, often switching back to Rush Limbaugh or some Christian talk station. It was a give and take - he'd give me an opening, then take the radio back.

 Sometimes he would leave me at a site to clean up or work on something monotonous but easy while he went off to do more complicated and involved tasks. These times were great, a free reign to blast the tunes as loud as I wanted. I actually did work with the better station, too - I didn't slack off when not observed. There was one time, though, that I had to sit down and really listen to a song as it came over the airways, though. It was an overcast morning during a stretch of days spent at my grandparents to lessen my commute to the sites. I was tired and bummed to be trapped in the goon docks, far away from any of the metropolitan culture I would eventually embrace. I was unhappy and tired. It was humid. The house I was working in was not even half finished, with drafts and saw dust to bother the eyes and lungs. The radio was a respite from this. So when a strange and eerie song started with a woman's smoky voice singing notes without words, I had to stop to listen.

 The song began to build. A solitary bassline crept in under the intonations. It was almost spooky, but certainly heartbreaking. Slowly, sadly, the woman sang "Breathe it in and breathe it out and pass it on its almost gone". While obviously singing of addiction (of which I knew nothing) it was still a moving song, one that gripped me and made an indelible mark in my mind. I was transfixed by the song until it was over, the song having risen and fallen several times, taking me on a bit of an emotional journey. All the while the signal threatened to fade out, amping up my focus and the intensity with which I listened. Right before some heavy clouds came in and broke the signal entirely, I heard the DJ say "That was 'Not An Addict' by K's Choice, a great band out of..." and then it went to static. The words imprinted on my brain - I had to hear it again.

It wasn't until I got to college, four or five years later, that I would finally download the song and listen to it to death. This was the era of CDs full of filler and I always had some particular album I had to pick up first in my mental queue. Not to say I didn't appreciate the song - I actually heard it once or twice in the intervening years, with other people even confirming how great it was. I'm pretty sure my band (yes, I was in a punk band for years) covered it at one point. It was just one of those special things you keep in the back of your mind, never quite letting it go, occasionally saying "I have to find this!". When I did, it was fantastic.

The song was sung by Sarah Bettens of the band K's Choice. The band, hailing from Antwerp in Belgium, actually achieved some international fame for the single, due in no small part to her distinct and raspy voice. The band had albums before and after but nothing has hit quite as big as 'Not An Addict', for better or worse. Millions of other people have been just as amazed by the song as I have, but I will always think of my solitary, isolated discovery of the song. Even if everyone I know is familiar with this awesome song, it will always bring me back to that special, secret moment when I was all alone and being deeply moved by Bettens' voice. It's a fantastic number. Give it a listen. Enjoy your weekend. 

Lone Pine

Evening, one and all.

I wrote a piece on the new EP from Sims yesterday, which got me thinking about how some of my favorite releases aren't necessarily the most long winded. Brevity is said to be the soul of wit. One of my favorite releases of the last couple years has to be the short but sweet EP from local avant garde rap group Kill The Vultures.

Kill The Vultures are not your average hip hop outfit. You don't hear the typical samples and beats. The vocals often times aren't in the common meter and delivery. What you get when you listen to this group is something out of left field.

Kind of a funny story how I got into Kill The Vultures. My better half had gone on safari in Africa with her mom. They were visiting Kate while she was working for Peace House, establishing their library facilities. This meant that for two weeks I was left to my own devices. Something I've found about being in a long term relationship (which lead to a marriage) is I now hate being left alone for too long. Short spells are okay. Long ones, not so much. I get restless and lonely. I did a lot of writing. Played some video games. I got restless to the point of simply wandering down to the local record store, the awesome and expansive Cheapo Records on Lake and Freemont. 


I had, by this time, fallen hard for local acts like Doomtree and The Plastic Constellations (before their dissolution). Wandering the racks of the local artists, I saw a name I recognized but had never actually heard. So on a whim, resltless and alone, I picked up some releases by Kill The Vultures. I only knew it was in the vein of hip hop. I had no idea it would be as good as it was. One of the albums was The Careless Flame, the other was The Midnight Pines Soundtrack. By just about stumbling over the album, I found something totally unexpected and completely unique. It was bizarre and off kilter in the best way possible.

 I've never even seen the movie to which Kill The Vultures composed the soundtrack. All I've been able to determine from searching online is that it was a local flick, a kind of modern noir. The soundtrack certainly would back up that notion. At only six songs, the soundtrack is a woozy, drunken affair. Songs are full of wheezing, out of focus jazz ghosts that make you feel like you've been transported in time. There are moments where the soundtrack feels like a jumping beat-poet session, rapper Crescent Moon spitting his free-form verses over saxophone and some light percussion, like in 'Where The Cutthroats Stay'. The song is a finger snapping, head bobbing number. Other times it feels like music to accompany scenes of the depths of a bender, like in 'A Long Way Down'. In the track, mournful woodwinds warble over a slightly-out-of-tune piano, Crescent Moon practically just speaking his lines. His vocals are chilling when he speaks "It's a cold, cold city and it's a long way down." 'Midnight Pine' feels like a marriage of the two proceeding tracks - light, jazzy drumming, somber poetry and some lively keys. It's hep cat stuff, for sure. 'Can't Buy Forgiveness' is more upbeat, the time-keeping ride cymbal adding an out of time air, like Kill The Vultures were the baddest outfit in your favorite speakeasy. The whole EP feels amazingly retro yet alive and vibrant, surprisingly genuine and relevant for such a distinctly throw-back idea.

Crescent Moon's vocals are an unquestionable strong force here, as well. His intonation guides the whole feel of the songs - he gets wound up and the track feels like it could burst into flames. When he slows things down to really force every word into your ear, you can feel him forming every syllable and letter. His rapping and voice are so distinct that you can pick him out on anything else he does, be it with his wife in the (sadly now defunct) Roma Di Luna or as a guest MC on countless Doomtree cuts. He has a conviction to his words and a heft to his voice that few other artists possess. When coupled with these amazing jazz constructions, I totally fall apart.

 How many groups these days, especially noise-jazz based hip hop, can make a soundtrack to a movie you've never seen, yet still completely convey the tone of the film? I adore Kill The Vultures for what they've done here. They have other fantastic albums that are more detailed and fleshed out, but I love the brevity and simple concept of what they've done here. If you've never heard of Kill The Vultures this is actually a great, accessible place to get acquainted with their aggressive sound. They're flying just under the radar, so go find them while you can.

Zoo Animal

Well, hello there!

Last time we spoke, I was waxing nostalgic about things long gone. How about instead of focusing on things that are a decade old, we look at something new and fresh?

In my last post about Minneapolis rapper Sims, I made a mea culpa for sleeping on his latest and greatest endeavor, the staggering and alarming Bad Time Zoo. To counteract the guilt and feelings of missing out on something so amazing, I want to use today's post to spread the good word about his latest offering. The thing is, Sims is heading out on his Good Time Zoo tour (see relevant dates and venues here). As a reward for coming to see him perform live he has pressed up physical copies of an EP he recorded with fellow Doomtree crew member Lazerbeak. The EP, titled Wildlife, serves as a coda or addendum of sorts to his sprawling and dangerous album that preceded it. Knowing not everyone will be able to attend the upcoming shows, Sims and co. went the extra mile and distributed the EP for free online, via this link.

 I can't tell you how fantastic of a gesture that is from such a hardworking artist. While Sims has been riding a wave of critical success, we all know the record business is a limping, potentially mortally wounded beast. So to offer fresh, original and (most importantly) high quality content like this is quite simply a gift on the artist's behalf. I'm very grateful, not only for the gesture but for the fact that this EP is just as amazing as the work that preceded it. Sims is on his grind and we are reaping the benefit.

 Musically, Wildlife falls right into line with Bad Time Zoo. The songs are at times, alive and manic, sprinting alongside the rapper as part of a pack. Other times they feel run down and full of history, like an old supper club with outdated décor. They sound, really, like they could be alternate takes of other songs on Bad Time Zoo, and I mean that in the best way possible. Often times an artist will plop out an EP simply to get some spotlight between albums - not so with Sims. These songs are of the same high caliber he always delivers, even showing further signs of growth in certain spots.

 At a mere five tracks, Wildlife is lean but not gaunt. There's just no fat on the record. 'Lighthouse' is an ephemeral track, one that gives the impression Sims is perched high above the Veldt he in which he describes the modern world, watching the chaos unfold. 'Mad Night', technically pulled from Bad Time Zoo, shows how far he's come as a performer. Not to patronize his or anyones rap game, but on this track he shows the strength of his vocals and the depth of his lyricism. It's a track with real flow, not only in the hip hop sense but as a writer polishing his craft. Listening to 'Here I Stand' its easy to conjure the image of Sims as a man on the hunt - monster approaching, the artist grabs bow and arrow and takes aim. When his verses unfold it feels as though he's taken chase, hunting wounded prey. See how effectively the rapper paints imagery with his lyrical themes? Infectious when done right. 'The Line' shows Sims flexing new muscles in his writing style, getting more personal than ever as he weaves a pair of narratives about broken people and the help the refuse. Its haunting and affecting storytelling.

 The final track on the EP, 'Jordan 5's', contains a line I think may encapsulate why he does what he does. In citing the mortal accidents of the King James Bible, he raps "The truth fades but the ink stains". This notion of the fleeting sacred truths held in ink and paper is not unlike his relentless grind. He is an artist with a message that is, at times, difficult to pinpoint. He implores us to be better people, yet cites the flaws of the world in our most animalistic tendencies. On the sliding scale of artistic intent and rappers spreading a message, Sims is definitely on the heavy end. Maybe we'll never know why he perseveres. I think this track at least gives an insight into his reason for being. Either way, I'm just grateful to have the EP to compliment his monster of an album. The Good Time Zoo is heading out on tour - see if you can witness the madness. 

Reconstruction

Heyo. How are you?

Looks like I went a little off the deep end with yesterday's post, huh? I guess its understandable - it was my first time home in a while and I had a fantastic time. It was only natural that some of the mental dirt got tilled, exposing some roots to the air. I hope you enjoyed it - I certainly did. While I do, indeed, get some solid satisfaction out of CKY's iconic single '96 Quite Bitter Beings' I barely touched on the album of theirs that really hooked me in as a listener.

As I wrote yesterday, it was fall when I got turned on to the album. I had been in college only a few months and was quickly acclimating to the horrors of dorm life. Not all was grim, though, as it was still in the heady, carefree days of file sharing, but before the advent of massive lawsuits and torrents. In other words, for better or worse, I was exposed to a great deal of music in a short amount of time. I've since reformed my wicked ways - if I can pay an artist, I will. A lot of artists these days put the music out there for free, however, in an attempt to draw people in for shows. So I cast my net far and wide. Much of it was just obtaining files I had wanted but couldn't shell out for until then, like back catalogues and out of print stuff. Others were more about the rare and obscure tracks I had heard of but never thought I could track down. Surprisingly little came recommended, that I recall, despite the massive amounts of data. I was kind of on my own as far as what I was looking for.

That changed with Sam.

Sam and I clicked almost instantly. He lived across the hall. Once he realized I could be trusted (a surprisingly rare trait in that environment, we found) after watching his stuff while moving in, we started giving the 'What's up' nod all dudes do. I don't recall exactly what it was that started the avalanche, but as soon as he and I both realized we shared an adoration for Jackass and the CKY videos, we started making emphatic recommendations and swapping files. Romantic, right? Anyway, I got him into all kinds of stuff like Thrice while he turned me on to H.I.M. (relevant post pending). One day after class (or maybe during, as not every massive lecture required strict attendance) he called over to tell me to accept the transfer he was sending, as it was higher bit rate than the normal junky mp3s we were normally swapping. What he sent me was CKY's fresh album, Infiltrate, Destroy, Rebuild. It was awesome.

 I'd loved the band's earlier stuff but the mixes and ripped files always sounded terrible. This was huge and heavy, a thunderous, heaving album that saw the band suddenly came to life in my headphones. Even the sounds of the guitars themselves were unique, Deron Miller achieving some odd yet unmistakable tones that made the band stand out among the generic stuff on the radio. The off kilter rhythms gave them an ear-catching sound, as well. The album was unlike anything else I was listening to at the time, and although there have been similar sounds to develop as of late, nothing's been quite as good as IDR. 

While not every song on the album has been released as a single, there is a video for every track, which is due to the devotion of drummer Jess' brother Bam. The lurching 'Escape From Hellview' is a stomping opener that continues the tale that started in '96 Quite Bitter Beings' about the torturous town of Hview. 'Flesh Into Gear', one of the band's most recognized tracks from CKY2K, is given new life and a better mix here, the riff feeling just as hypnotic and amazing as ever. The juggernaut 'Sink Into The Underground' is simultaneously a bizarre shuffle and as heavy as its title suggests. I love the pseudo-new wave elements of 'Plastic Plan', which make the track somehow poppy and strangely melodic despite the grinding nature to it. One of the best tracks on the album is the funky, maniacal 'Inhuman Creation Station', with its insane riff and lock-step rhythm.

As I wrote in yesterday's piece, I had the good fortune of seeing this band live, right after they had released this album. It was one thing to hear this when it was brand new, it was a whole separate beast to hear them rocking out at full volume, careening around the stage while looking like degenerate lumberjacks. It was insane stuff. CKY is unlike any band out there - this album cemented their identity.

96 Retrospective

In the interest of full disclosure I'll share why I had an off kilter posting schedule this past weekend. 


I was out with the better half to visit my parents in Wisconsin, having not seen them since our wedding. It was a fantastic time, lots of good food, a spin in their boat down the river, we all hung out and watched a movie together. It was a really great, relaxing trip out there, although I would have like to stay longer. The place they have is where I spent the majority of my high school years and the off time during college. I have a lot of memories of watching movies late at night in the basement, rehearsing with my band in their garage and generally trying to make the most out of living in the country despite not being the outdoors type. In hindsight I took advantage of the solitude and tranquility of the location, the fact that living where they do affords privacy and peace. This lies in sharp contrast to living in the middle of the city in the heart of Uptown, surrounded by rabble rousers and nightlife. Neither one is better, I've found, just different. I could see myself enjoying the isolation, given the proper circumstances.

I know the grass is always greener, but you never really can go home again. There was a lot in there house that reminded me of who I was and where I've come from. I flipped through old yearbooks, found old dressers with some of my clothes, even walked some trails I used in high school to sneak the odd cigarette when I was young and stupid. While the memories would flood back in, they were accompanied by equal parts nostalgia and saudade. I could delude myself and say things were so much better when I had fewer responsibilities and the freedom to be a teenager but I know that I was unhappy with who I was then and feel like I had to experience what I did to become who I am. I can go back and visit my parents, even sleep in my old room and read the same books, but I can't call it home. I haven't lived there in a long time. It was a strange experience but I enjoyed it, despite the unstoppable progress of life, realizing a chapter has closed. Still, a new one has opened.

As we were winding down one night, I started playing an episode of the late great Jackass on my iPad to amuse my better half before bed. As we watched the first episode of the series it occurred to me that just a month short of ten years prior I had watched the exact same episode in that house with my dad and two brothers. Suddenly this whole part of my brain lit up as I recalled where I was at that time in my life and what I had been doing. I also recalled how hard my dad had laughed at what turned out to be a surprisingly long-standing series. My whole family has always had a strong sense of humor and this show was a real lightening rod for it. Only years later would I be able to hit the nail on the head on why I love it so much - to quote someone whose name I can't recall, "Its like a live action version of Looney Tunes, only more visceral for the post-Fight Club generation." That pretty much summed up my feelings on the show when I first saw it - it was something more than just dumb stunts - there was an underlying sense of danger tied in with a cartoon sensibility. This dichotomy was a breakthrough in the way that I saw the world. It also introduced a new chapter in my life where elements of the Jackass culture and crew would influence my life's path. For example, the music of CKY featured in the first episode.

The song playing behind Bam Margera and co.'s shopping cart antics is '96 Quite Bitter Beings' by CKY, a band fronted by Deron Miller with Bam's brother Jess on the drums. The track, with it's distinct riff and oddly howled vocals, was unlike anything I had heard at that point in my life. I was obsessed with the ominous tone, which I always thought was vaguely Halloweenish. Because of the time of broadcast I'll always associate it with fall and the cool air and leaves on the ground. A year or two later I picked up Tony Hawk's Pro Skater 3 for PS2 which also featured the song. It was fall then, too. I played it way too much after soccer practice that year, winding down and blowing off stress by working my thumbs to the bone, that song playing too often in the background. A year later I went to college and my best friend, who lived across the hall in the dorm, exposed me to the whole CKY videography and discography. I was hooked on the bizarre, incredibly unique and super-heavy sound. Again, in the fall. When we got tickets to see the band in Minneapolis he introduced me to a friend of his with whom he thought I would hit it off. I was smitten, but I barely registered on her radar. Months later we would reconnect and start dating. Two months ago I married her.

I'm not saying the song '96 Quite Bitter Beings' is the best song in the world, nor is it the most poignant, romantic tune to spin your life around. For whatever reason, call it synchronicity or just coincidence, this song has always factored into my autumns and kept turning up, like a bad penny. Being in my parent's house and hearing this song, while sitting next to my wife, I was struck by how strangely full circle it all felt. Maybe I listen to too much weird music. Maybe we make connections where we want to see them, mind always seeking order from chaos. Regardless, fall is pretty much here and I heard the song again. It might be inescapable, but its still a great song with a memorable riff. Funny how music gets associated with memory. There are other, more romantic songs that symbolize my relationship with my better half, but this one is more of a personal one, a song that has snaked it's way from a decade ago right into the weekend. Strange, huh? 

Howlin' Wolves

Guys, I promised you a double post and a double post is what you're gonna get.


I have to tell you, if you haven't heard this song in the last year...I feel bad for you. Its nothing short of a knock out. Its bad, man. Super bad. The kind of bad that makes you feel like you need to be doing something a little more grimy and gritty whenever it comes on. It has this old school feel that makes it feel timeless and instantly familiar but a fresh energy and buzz that makes you feel alive when it comes on. I'm talking about 'Howlin' For You' by The Black Keys.

I honestly think I hear this song more from my better half rocking out than I ever do in my own iTunes shuffling, which I hope speaks more of her taste than it does my ear-to-the-ground cultural awareness. It's one of those tracks that you hear and think "Damn, has this been out and I've been missing out on it?" In testament to her latent hip factor, though, the better half kept telling me how great the song was whenever it came on and would subsequently crank up the volume. Really all it took was a single listening, but since then I just let her turn up the song cause its fantastic and sounds better with some bass.

The Black Keys are phenomenal. One of the daring two-man-band types, they make a sound that's both a throwback and inherently modern in its simplicity and urgency. Its bluesy, simple rock that gets you by the cojones and holds on, instead of overwhelming and exhausting you with too many cooks and too many tricks. Their songs are stripped down and minimal, relying on quality songwriting and balls rather than gimmicks and guest spots. So a song like 'Howlin' For You'  works due to the few elements it has - there's some thumping drums that are reminiscent of stadium stompers, a guitar line that sounds like its being played through a phone and vocals that are as dangerous as they are appealing. The literally and figuratively distorted guitar lick that permeates the song is super catchy, especially for the solitary little part at the end of the song where it drops an octave for a single bar. Listen for it.

The video for the song is just as fantastic. While the song hasn't been officially announced as a single, the band made a video for it that's in the style of a trailer for a sleazy exploitation flick. Drawing on all of its Grindhouse-summoning imagery and faux-trailer aesthetics, they combine to make a clip that screams to be made into a real movie. The way Hollywood works today, that is entirely possible.

'Howlin' for You' by The Black Keys is huge, and deserves even more love than it already gets. This duo acutally sells albums in this modern era, how much of a seal of approval is that? See what you've been missing out on and listen to it. Its unbelievably good.