(This is so much easier when I am drinking.)

What have I done today? I spilled a can of beans down my leg. I, uhh... scalded my right hand in dishwater. I watched some bonus features on the complete second season of Lost until I realized that bonus features are for sad people. (the actor who plays Sayid smokes!)

I decided to drink tea instead of wine. It's that tea with the bear in pyjamas on the lime green box. There's a rotten smell from the traps of my sink. No matter how much drain cleaner I pour down there, it seems to get more foul.

This could all be a metaphor for something. But it's not; it's mere minutia. I stopped looking for meaning when I started amassing credit card debt.

How does this relate to music? It's days like today I shouldn't be allowed posting access to this blog. Because I can't form the language to contextualize a certain song, and make it magic. I can't drum up the passion to make anyone else care... if I simply don't myself.

Most pop music is rooted in some form of angst. While I'm writing with my 2002 angst-tone, I'm really not feeling a whole lot of angst. (Angst. Angst. I like the word- it's a great KMFDM album- but I'm just not feeling it at 26.)

More feeling just a bunch of nothing... it was just Wednesday. And while I am one day too late to come on here and post a bunch of new wave songs with 'Halloween' in the title, or some l33t remix of K-Fed, destined to be an ironic club anthem, I would never do that anyway. I hate being topical & I hate being current.

So let's do something dated that makes dated cool:

Faith No More - We Care A Lot

Yes, that will do.

(I am banning the word "Cusack" from the comments for this entry)

This may be a continuing series of posts, I’m not too sure.

Around the time that Radiohead released OK Computer in 1997, I got heavily into British music. I loved that record, but for some reason I seemed to believe that it wasn’t Radiohead that I loved, but the fact that they were British.

At the time, popular radio was playing little that I liked, and I was digging around for something new. The internet wasn’t available to me (I didn’t even have a computer until 2001), so I had to read magazines to find out information on new bands. I picked up a copy of Britain’s Select magazine purely for its Radiohead cover story, and began to read about characters like “Stuart Murdoch” and “Goldie”. I became an ardent Anglophile (more on the Stuart Murdoch side than the Goldie side; who as far as I could tell just had gold teeth and talked a lot about ‘E’). I didn’t tell people I was going out for “pints wi’ me mates” or any such posturing, but if it was from the U.K., I’d try to find something I liked about it.

Anyway, it got to a point where the only bands I listened to were from the United Kingdom.

There are a few albums from this period of my life that I loved then, but will never ever play again. I can guarantee that I won’t voluntarily listen to Be Here Now by Oasis or Performance and Cocktails by the Stereophonics ever again. (Actually, I’m tempted to list the Stereophonics as the biggest “what was I thinking?” band of my entire life. I once spent $30 on a Stereophonics bootleg called Kelly’s Heroes. That might be the most unnecessary CD purchased by anyone, ever. They were really terrible).

There was a lot of great music as well; 1977 by Ash is the official soundtrack of my seventeenth year, the Verve’s A Northern Soul is still a masterpiece, and I undoubtedly listened to the Manic Street Preachers’ the Holy Bible much more than I read the actual Holy Bible (and I was an Irish-Catholic altar server – but that consisted more of holding the Holy Bible for Father Dan to read when I wasn’t fainting on the pulpit or listening to my brother’s friend whispering serial killers’ names into my ear from the pew behind me – “Chikatilo” was a favourite, mostly because the name sounded really evil when whispered).

But I digress…

There were a few bands most people would consider a mere footnote in British rock history that I took a liking to. Cable (they were on the same record label as Ash), Adorable (it’s still a crime that they aren’t more widely acclaimed), and the 60 Ft. Dolls are all lesser known bands whose records’ were (and are) worth searching for.

The 60 Ft. Dolls - The One

The Dolls were a Welsh Jam-like trio who would probably have hit it big had they formed in 2001, as their image and music were custom made for the 70’s punk resurgence of that year. They released two albums, The Big 3 in 1996 and Joya Magica in 1998. Unfortunately, they broke up in 1999 after being dropped from their label, and I think one of them is a hairdresser now (that’s probably a lie, it just seemed fittingly pathetic).

I lost interest in most British music around the Radiohead-clonage craze of ’01. Also, I was influenced upon my acquiring the internet by the suggestions of people (I had never actually met) on chat rooms (that weren’t physically rooms), that I delve more into “indie” music (most of which was on major labels).

I guess I just stopped giving bands a chance simply based on geography.

Since then I intermittently listen to records from that era, but I usually find myself wondering what made me buy it (apart from the fact that it’s, y’know….British), or find myself still sick of it after not having heard it for six or seven years. I’ve never really gone through a phase that dedicated to a specific country since.

(Pretend that last part was read by Daniel Stern over the strains of “the Universal” by Blur).

-kevin.

There is this band named 'Hinder', and they have this song called 'Get Stoned'. This is the song all the SUV driving types are asking for. We all had never heard it past our assumptions, so I figured this maybe just deserved a chance.

Of course it sucked. I won't waste my words telling you why (because you already know), but I will steal from the allmusic review this gem: "Hinder's Extreme Behavior revives the simpleton riffs and stupid misogyny of 2001".

Ahh, yes, 2001: A Musical Idiocy. I like to consider myself far removed from the fist-pumping, over-sized-pastel-poloshirt-wearing, Coors-drinking scene that single-handedly ruined the word "Woodstock" worse than Dave Matthews might have.

But no. I'll admit it: I hooted when Martin Streek introduced 'Break Stuff' to the dancefloor... As a boy who grew up on nothing records & Waxtrax, I fed on heavy music, but somehow lost my way after 1999, being caught in the sweaty jock strap laundry sack of nu-metal.

(as a digression: both nu-metal's segregation from the best heavy music of the 90s, and its death knell as a cultural powerhouse came when Fred Durst agreed to pay Trent Reznor royalties for use of lyrics in a song he 'wrote' disparaging Reznor himself)

Luckily for me this didn't last long. My dad kept the Toronto Sun in the house- yeah, never thought I'd be thankful for that- it's bonafide birdcage literature, but used to house John Sakamoto's weekly 'Anti-Hit List'- a collection of genuine 'alternative' songs of the week: indies, rarities, downloads... Very much a pioneer of mp3 blogging.

Thanks to this list, I caught up on scenes I missed from about 1996-2000: the (arguable) zenith of brit-pop, the genesis of mp3 culture, the last of the must-have b-sides, and orchestral noise-pop. To wit:

Mercury Rev - Opus 40

Finally, melodrama more meaningful than the f-bomb. Just mentioning Mercury Rev opens up a whole lot of doors for me:

Door #1: Their touches are finally being felt in the current scene; The Arcade Fire's "Funeral" reminds me of a more organized rendition of Mercury Rev's "See You On The Other Side". Furthermore, starting with "The Soft Bulletin" (but especially "Yoshimi...") The Flaming Lips began to adopt more of Mercury Rev's cinematic, gently fucked up sound after so many years of being intertwined.

Door #2: Mercury Rev probably becomes my longest, consecutively loved band, and they came from elsewhere than the radio, or my brother's collection.

There was a time when I considered anything played on CFNY to be the alternative. CFNY... became the Edge. They still had me hypnotized long after the days of Jane Siberry & The Inspiral Carpets, thinking that The Toadies were the next big thing. They falsely presented nu-metal as alternative based on their reputation which I still held on to. Mercury Rev has probably never been played on the Edge.

Door #3: ...well, that's the mystery box & it's going to remain in the box... for now.

-kam

post-amble:

John Sakamato is still doing it, though he's still a big fan of something I never quite understood: the mash-up. Check it out here.

And Kevin never saw me being "Down With The Sickness" on the Phil's dancefloor, though he really might have could have.

Buy Mercury Rev's Deserter's Songs

I feel different already.

Lest I revert to livejournal-tone, I'll talk about a time that... isn't too much different than now. For me. For the world, really.

That's when I got the job that I currently have. Of course, at the time it was supposed to be temporary. Funny how these things work out. I've since reaped a social scene, health benefits & Pearl Jam bootlegs out of it... nicey nice.

But therein lies a problem: I like eating lunch, and I like doing so outside of the workplace. No matter how bad things ever got when I was in school, or the very few times I actually worked in offices, I always knew I'd have a one hour sanctuary wherein I could take refuge in sticky tabletops, sassy menus or jalapeno poppers.

The problem with managing retail is being confined to that oppressive back room, with the third-hand microwave. I'm not a sack-lunch kind of guy. Saran-wrapped ham sandwiches & juice boxes are especially soul-breaking.

But I had a good thing going in 2004. I was still going to school. I was still spending everyday with a variety of people my age. No matter how objectionable 90% of them were, there was always someone there to listen to, or watch, or look at. I don't find that in consumers. I barely find that in the box of new releases that arrives every Monday.

Since then I've met, worked, drank with, learned from & fallen in love with so many people who have come and gone through that place. I see most of them now moving on to far off, yet important places. And I'll be honest with you people- I'm not afraid of much. Moths, that's one thing... but something utterly more rational is a fear of being left behind. So...:

Candlebox - Left Behin- no, no, I'm kidding.

Spiritualized - Lord, Let It Rain On Me

So yeah life is an awkward transition right now.

If you remember my Mercury Rev post, I can tell you that Spiritualized was kind of the runner-up for that inner-cultural movement. Of the writers on this blog, I'm the least worthy of writing about Spiritualized as a sound, or an entity, so I won't.

I just was thinking a lot today about 2004, and reading a lot of what I wrote then. This blog needed a post, and this post needed a song, and when I think about how I feel today mashed-up with how I felt in 2004... this seemed about right.

-kam

Buy Spiritualized's 'Amazing Grace'

Are Simon and Garfunkel hip? I really don’t know, and I think I’ve been trying to figure it out for years.

On one hand, I think that the poetic lyrics / critical acclaim / connection with The Graduate etc. would push their hipster worth up a few notches, yet I find that whenever I’m listening to them, at least one person mocks me (or them) and makes me feel decidedly lame for doing so.

Now, I truly couldn’t care less about my being hip (in this case, anyway). I dig Simon and Garfunkel, and know enough people who do as well to not make me feel like a total Asia fan. (The band, not the country).

But… I think I hit upon the two things that make them un-hip, and it really lies in their "Art", so to speak.

It’s the name “Garfunkel”.

And it’s his hair.

A couple of months back, I was talking on the phone with my girlfriend. She heard music in the background, and asked what I was listening to. When I told her that it was Simon and Garfunkel, she just chuckled and said “Garfunkel”. I asked (hungrily at this point, after what seems like years of mock-age) what the problem with S&G was. She replied, “Nothing”.

I think that’s exactly the point. It’s not the band that people mock, it’s his fucking name. Could it be that his name is so phoenetically bad that it’s like the “Cellar Door” of shitty names? Has his name caused generations to dismiss their music in a knee-jerk reaction?

“Garfunkel” invites laughter. It’s probably the word “funk”.

I don’t know….

I don’t think we’d have Iron & Wine or Elliott Smith without Paul n’ Art. I think a lot of people would agree with that. Were they always mocked? Were they un-hip in the 60’s? Were they the Jack Johnson to Dylan’s M. Ward, or something? I’d ask my parents, but they had better things to do in their youth than pore over the bullshit minutia of popular music.

They were probably surfing or fighting greasers.

Anyway, after S & G’s first album tanked, they broke up. Paul Simon moved to England and released a solo album called the Paul Simon Songbook.

Paul Simon – April Come She Will

After some suit re-mixed “The Sounds of Silence” and it became a hit, they quickly reformed and re-recorded a lot of songs from Simon’s solo effort.

I think he should have just stayed solo.

Then there’d be no “Garfunkel” (point “a”). and there’d be only slightly objectionable hair on the album covers (point “b”).

And it would have made my shabby life a little bit easier (point “c”).

-kevin

Buy Paul Simon's "Songbook"

I think Kevin and I together joked once- over corn pones & mountain dew no doubt- that a sign of aging... is increased interest in alt-country & world music.

Well, indeed I am at that age where I will begin to buy more CDs at Chapters, than I do HMV. Of course it comes with maturity- I am surely to spend more money now in a bookstore, than I am the Orange Julius in the mall. And of course there is nothing wrong with either of those genres; they just don't endear themselves to the Facebook sect & I wanted to say "pones".

Jack Irons - Shine On You Crazy Diamond

My growing attachment to World music is not just a symptom of spending four months abroad, completely isolated from Western music (oh, glorious it was). Jack Irons is to blame. He is responsible for Pearl Jam. So go egg his house.

Of course I kid. Pearl Jam is my sometimes guilty-pleasure & my sometimes unabashed obsession. Depends on the cloud-cover that day. Regardless what I feel, I have that tattoo to remind me of a time I lived and breathed Eddie Vedder's wine-soaked lyrics.

But as the title states, this isn't my paramount 'favourite-song-ever' post (that comes December 23rd, I am sure). This is something funky but familiar.

Jack Irons introduced- in a way- Eddie Vedder to Stone & Jeff. That, for me, is comparable to the man who first introduced gin to tonic. Years later he got to be their drummer in a move that re-invented the band while at the same time alienated their sound from the mainstream. This was a good thing in an era when American rock music was starved for innovation. I remember being given "No Code" by a disappointed friend. I would earnestly argue that it is one of the most vastly underrated albums of the mid-nineties. Just skip "I'm Open" and you'll be torn between sobbing in your Barq's, and doing interpretive dance.

Jack Irons left Pearl Jam in a good place, but I was sad to see him go. From what I understand he remained emotionally troubled having lost so many peers so young (he was in RHCP, let's not forget), and just couldn't balance a rock star schedule with a family. This is rare for one to admit.

Anyway, a year or two ago I got wind of his first (to my knowledge) solo album. Enlisted to fill in some gaps were many of his friends & former bandmates, including Eddie Vedder, who does vocals on this track.

The whole affair resembles tribal grunge... had it been performed under the sea & mated somehow with electronica-by-Luddites. Yeah, it's difficult to categorize. I am sure it will be hard for Pink Floyd fans to swallow, however it becomes far more striking when contrasting the context of their lyrics, with just how many peers Vedder & Irons could apply them to.

It would also sound absolutely smashing in your favourite coffee bar.

-kam

Buy "Attention Dimension" by Jack Irons

Pearl Jam's new album is available at Chapters.