One Stupid Mop

We like music. You should too.

Teenage Fanclub - Like a Virgin

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I had a pretty damn good birthday on Friday, even with all the work. I think this song made my day on the drive home, though. But this was so unexpected I was a little surprised how excited I got when I realized what it was.

Teenage Fanclub grinds and writhes their way through it so well it made me want to suggestively roll around on the concrete in the middle of I-595 in a tight white wedding dress, with my pantie-less privates sending cars careening off the side of the highway in a mix of awe and disgust.

All random credit goes to Madonna and Teenage Fanclub for the reaction to a long forgotten cover.  

Anyway, I give it to you on the day of the lord. Enjoy.

Ethyl Meatplow - Car

Ethylmeatplow

 

John sent an email today asking for me to send him a copy of Ethyl Meatplow's 'Happy Days, Sweetheart'. He had it long ago but apparently it had been lost as some point, most likely during one of our hard drive crashes of years past. Fortunately for John, I've started encoding my entire vinyl collection as I make an effort to de-clutter my house, one record at a time. The Majority of My CD collection needs to be re-encoded as well (Since I lost most of my digital collection and backup of said collection earlier this year), so why not get a head start with this gem from 1993!   

What a record this is!  Oh my! All the wonderfully horrible things I did while this record was on in the background. I was in 10th grade when this record came out, learning everything I could about Industrial Music and jockeying for the music director position at the greatest radio station in the world (in my mind at the time anyway) 88.5 FM WKPX; our High School Radio Station with a 3000 Watt Transmitter that reached downtown Ft. Lauderdale and the most northern tip of Miami.  We though it was pretty damn cool and for most people into the Alternative music scene back then, it was.

I didn't get the MD postion that year, but my friend Shannon did and I can still remember when she introduced me to the trio of noise makers known as Ethyl Meatplow.  I can remember her asking me, "do you think we can get away with this track? How about this one?" The Album was so filthy; full of sexual innuendo and drug references, it's amazing that we were able to play any of their music at all on our station. Of course we did find a few songs that weren't branded NFAP (Not For Air Play), one of which was 'Car', though listening to it now, we got lucky on this one. Obnoxious and Abrasive Keyboard Sounds, Shouting and well played & well engineered Drums that just pound their way through the whole song. What more could you ask for? Well the song 'Sad Bear' which is at the end of the album and adds a memorable chant to that mix, but that's not the song I'm posting today.

Ethyl Meatplow fit some where between Jane's Addiction, Silverfish, Thrill Kill Kult, Consolidated & Nitzer Ebb. They had a definite LA sleaze vibe, but they also mixed sounds and textures in a way that wouldn't become popular until a few years later with more subdued groups like Cibo Matto and Luscious Jackson. Certainly ahead of it's time, so much so they couldn't keep it together beyond this album, but they did tour this record, and I managed to catch them at the Cameo in South Beach with my buddy Mark Del Campo.  They opened for Front 242, who were heading full on into their spandex short phase, and just blew them off the stage as the opening act. Even though most of the music was pre-recorded and coming off of keyboard sequencers, Ethyl Meatplow's attitude and energy we undeniable. They had to change disks on the ensoniq keyboards in order to load to the new sequences and samples in between songs and they made tons or racket and distracted you with half naked dancers; one of which was a young woman who's head head was shaved bald, had black X's taped on her nipples and sported boxing trunks and suspenders. Obviously the distractions worked,  It was wild. When they got their act together and hit you with the songs it was mighty! They just delivered with such conviction, it didn't take long for me to be hooked. Again the Live Drums pounding away, the Synths & Samples blasting you in the head and the Guy/Gal trade off Sing Alongs just completed the package. It was Raw and It felt like the future, two things I always look for in new music. Front 242 didn't stand a chance, Mark and I left midway through their set in hopes of scoring some Ethyl Meatplow Merch, No luck.  But we did manage to get a few stickers, I still have one on a record box flight case in my garage (that will be finding a new home some time in the next year I hope, the case that is).

After this record Carla Bozulich went on to form Geraldine Fibbers, a band that was such a departure from Ethyl Meatplow's sound that I never gave them a chance, drummer Biff Sanders went on to play in Polar Bear with Eric Avery and Vocalist/Programmer Wee Wee is getting his masters in Social Work. "Hi, I'm Wee Wee your social worker..." I'm sure that's going well.

17 years later (yikes!), 'Happy Days, Sweetheart'. stands up really well. Sure there a few crappy synth bass sounds here and there, but on the whole, it still sounds new, fresh and vibrant, highly recommended, especially if you find your self enjoying this tune.

-Joe

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Queens of the Stone Age - Born To Hula

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If Dave Grohl were playing drums on "Born to Hula," the world would have been freaking out about it. But since "Ode to Clarissa" has a better hook, "Born to Hula" gets left in the dust when it finally sees the light of day - despite the fact that it would have been one of the notable tracks on Songs for the Deaf.

Instead of playing front on center toward the middle of that Queens of the Stone Age masterpiece, it's one of five previously unreleased studio tracks included on the "deluxe edition" of QOTSA's other masterpiece, the album that got the world's attention (after Kyuss), Rated R.

Perfect groove-based stoner rock with lyrics about getting laid, kicking ass, doing drugs or generally being cool while doing any one or combination of those three things - you've heard what it's about. The fact is, "Born to Hula" has all those things. It's the pounding in the background that is totally unexpected, and if Grohl had been the one holding the sticks, it would have been expected and minds would have been blown.

The rest of the bonus disc that comes with the Rated R reissue is a live set that spans the first three QOTSA albums and absolutely kicks. Unless you've never heard this album, you won't be surprised. If you are surprised, please, do us both a favor and fix that.

The Arcade Fire - Empty Room

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So, I got drunk and listened to the new Arcade Fire album tonight.

I've been listening to The Suburbs since the second it leaked, but tonight was different. Not only was I less than sober but I've read several reviews of it now, most notably the one on Pitchfork.

Now look, I'm a fan of the 'Fork, and I really love this album - I'd say it's a solid 7.0 instead of an 8.7 - but that's basically arguing semantics. Brilliant is brilliant, right?

Everybody, and I mean everybody, seems to agree that this uber-talented group of Canucks has done it again. Like each of the first two records, this one just gets better with every listen. 

But let me lay this out, because I'm sure the music-loving masses will follow the P-Fork lead: This thing sounds nothing like Springsteen. I know it's hip to give The Boss his due in indie circles these days but come the fuck on. Wiiiiin sounds nothing like Bruuuuuce. Not in vocal or in lyric.

No doubt, The Suburbs is a concept album focused on modern life. Part of its resonance, and I think this because I can identify, is that most of the people who will embrace this thing grew up in a relatively gentrified suburban area. It is, to put it simply, about us. Our past and future, both inside and outside, this is one of those albums that is a reflection. In that way, it just might be Springsteen-like. But that's a stretch, and that's about it.

I posted "Empty Room" pretty arbitrarily and mostly because it kicks and rolls, from opening violins to fade-out-that-should-be-a-sudden-stop ending. I could just have easily picked "Wasted Hours," because it's the track that really hit home and roped me in, but I wrote most of this after several pints of PBR (How hipster am I?) and I wanted a barn burner. Sue me.

Just acquire, listen to and enjoy the album. Trust me, it's worth however long it takes you to download it and whatever you pay for it.

(Aside from the comparisons to other artists and bland categorization of song type, the Pitchfork review of The Suburbs is, in fact, a good series of thoughts on the album and what The Arcade Fire is up to from an overall perspective. Don't be surprised - there's a reason that music fans continue to flock the Internet generation's Rolling Stone.)

Beck - Lord Only Knows

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Beck has soul. The guy who sang about Sexx Laws and wrote lyrics about cheese whiz has soul. And I don't need to post something off the self-wallowing Sea Change to prove it, because "Lord Only Knows" is clear as day on that fact.

I was going to post some sort of obscure, b-side because I've been flipping through Mr. Hansen's albums for a couple days now in between spins of the latest albums from The Arcade Fire and Jaill (both of which are completely effing stellar, but I digress). Frankly, I don't think it's necessary. Check this out.

On "Lord Only Knows," Beck is getting by. Scraping his way from hipster noise-maker loved by Thurston Moore for the obtuse-Dylanesque lyrical bender and thorough appreciation of feedback to the perfect lifestyle mash-up of the Dust Brothers. Yes, it's a long way from Mellow Gold to Odelay. But the later it gets, the better Beck gets. Because that DJ behind him is getting wasted, and the singer is still sober.

"So I'm picking up the pieces, and I'm putting them up for sale. Throw your meal ticket out the window, and put your skeletons in jail," he sings on the first verse of the song. Check yourself out, and throw caution to the wind. Stop being careful. Look where it got our rosey-cheeked Scientologist, for Christ's simple sake.

Beck always had the funk, he just heard it in his head and then imitated those sounds with whatever he had around him. The Dust Brothers helped him bring that stuff to life so that people who weren't stoned out of their gourd could experience the same thing.

As time goes on, I'm increasingly convinced that Beck Hansen is one of the truest artists to hit popular music since fat cats in fancy suits in front of coke-covered mirrors during the Reagan years started ruining the music industry. Hansen spent the last year covering some great albums with a host of really interesting musicians, recorded with all sorts of other artists and just sort of explored whatever the hell it is he wants to do. 

Really, he's done whatever he wanted a long time. Nobody has questioned him as he made all sorts of records, with all sorts of people, and tried all sorts of things. Maybe they stupidly weren't paying attention, missing out on a guy who exists completely outside of all the hip, hip, hip shit we all freak out over.

All along, for as much as I have enjoyed every single one of his albums, and I really have - Midnight Vultures and The Information may be two of the most underrated albums of the last decade - "Lord Only Knows" has remained one of my favorite songs by this weirdo. Over and over, I can let it play, and it just continues to resonate. It's probably one of my favorite songs, period.

I was going to give you "Clock," or "Halo of Gold," or the mind-blowing mash-up of Michael and Janet's "Scream" with Beck's "E-Pro." Hell, I almost caved to "Pay No Mind (Snoozer)." Instead, I went with the obvious song that, fifteen years later, still stomps a mudhole in my soul, because it is that god damn good.

"I'm going back to Houston, to do the hot dog dance... I'm going back to Houston, gonna get me some pants..."

Yeah, that's what I'm talking about.