In early fall of 2010, a meme started kicking around Facebook.  It asked you to pick 15 albums that you will always have with you.  Not necessarily what you consider the greatest albums ever, just ones that you love and can easily see yourself listening to in several years time.  This is a take off of that.  I expanded the list to twenty and have included comments about each of the albums as well, but the overall idea remains the same.  Give it a read, and let me know what albums you would include on yours.

1. “I Am The Movie” – Motion City Soundtrack

The first album I’ve ever listened to where I loved every single song the first time I heard it.  Its infectious blend of power-pop, jangly rock and roll, and an ever-present keyboard was exactly what high school me needed, and even though I actually consider Commit This To Memory a better album overall, nothing could possibly cause me to cease loving I Am The Movie.

2. “Funeral” – Arcade Fire

With soaring vocals, beautiful harmonies, poetically dense lyrics, and probably a few instruments you can’t even hear, Arcade Fire’s debut album manages to sound like absolutely nothing and everything else.  With a trajectory that rises and falls, Funeral is an album you feel and listen to, in that order.

3. “Yankee Hotel Foxtrot” – Wilco

Right from the mess of percussion and electronic noises that opens “I Am Trying To Break Your Heart,” Yankee Hotel Foxtrot establishes itself as an album that is not out to sound like anything else.  Which is probably why it’s so revered, if it sounded like anything other than itself, we would have no way of recognizing just how special it is.

4. “Flood” – They Might Be Giants

An album that plays in its own world, if ever there was one.  The Johns’ quirky tales of Particle Man, Hot Cha, and Mr. Horrible; their lessons about Istanbul (Not Constantinople) and women and men; and the apparent bliss that is having a rock to wind a string around are all presented with way more musicality than they actually require.  Honestly, if you don’t love Flood, I don’t want to know why, because your reasons are wrong.

5. “Pinkerton” – Weezer

Few people wanted a dark, personal album from the group that gave the world “Buddy Holly” and “My Name Is Jonas,” but fortunately they’ve come around to recognize the sheer greatness that is Pinkerton.  It’s the dark follow-up to the sugar high of the first one; it’s The Empire Strikes Back to The Blue Album‘s A New Hope (yes, chronologically this means Maladroit is The Phantom Menace which is wildly unfair; I never said it was a perfect metaphor).

6. “Violent Femmes” – Violent Femmes

If you think about it, The Violent Femmes’ self-titled debut is a scientific anomaly.  It’s angsty and pissed, full of venom, and totally badass, yet it’s mostly acoustic.  The Femmes didn’t get the note that louder is better, and thank God they didn’t.  This album wouldn’t pack nearly as much punch (or be half as influential) if Gordon Gano were telling us to kiss off over the buzz of electric instruments, and he probably knew that as well.

7. “Loveless” – My Bloody Valentine

An album that vastly improves every time I listen to it.  I knew of the album’s pedigree when I bought it, but on first listen, I wasn’t able to hear the beauty of it through the swirl of noise.  But with every subsequent play, the music reveals itself more and more to the point that it’s gone from being a confounding mess to an album you can take from me when you pry it from my cold, dead hands.

8. “Let It Be” – The Replacements

If you’ve ever listened to an alternative rock album and thought, “Hey, I like this,” you need to thank The Replacements.  Regardless of the fact that Let It Be is a freaking masterpiece, it perfectly captures the trials and tribulations of youth.  The inadequacies that come from trying to find your place in the world at a time when you are still only half-formed are displayed with the angst and aggression those sentiments deserve.

9. “In The Aeroplane Over The Sea” – Neutral Milk Hotel

The most recent addition to this list, in that it’s the album I heard for the first time, most recently.  Despite my brief tenure of familiarity with the album, though, I do absolutely love it.  Just please don’t ask me why.  There’s an ineffability to the music (and the lyrics especially) that make it almost impossible for me to describe.  And though I don’t necessarily know what the hell Jeff Mangum is singing about, I know damn well that he knows and feels it strongly, and that is definitely present on this strange, wondruous album.

10. “I Get Wet” – Andrew W.K.

Do you like fun?  Do you own I Get Wet?  If you answered “yes” to the first question and “no” to the second, then congratulations, you’re a failure.  It’s loud and abrasive, sure, but Andrew W.K. has such an excitable personality (and he knows his way around a catchy tune) that if you aren’t smiling ear-to-ear halfway through the first song, check your pulse, because you’re probably dead.

11. “Born To Run” – Bruce Springsteen

I don’t think I even need to say anything about this one.  The Boss’ collection of anthems for the working class was pretty much timeless when it was released, and almost 40 years later it remains a powerhouse.  Plus it just grooves like a sonofabitch.

12. “The Velvet Underground” – The Velvet Underground

Popular opinion tends to point towards The Velvet Underground and Nico as the logical favorite, and I fully, enthusiastically admit that it’s a great album, but The Velvet Underground just possesses something that their others don’t.  It’s softer, quieter, darker, but it also feels more at peace (“The Murder Mystery” aside).  For proof, the next night you are able to drive around with the windows open, do, and listen to “Some Kind Of Love” at the same time.  You’ll never feel more relaxed while sober and operating a large machine.

13. “Losing Streak” – Less Than Jake

A less artistic choice than some of the others, but this list is about albums that stick with you, and not a year has gone by when I haven’t listened to this album at least once and skanked my ass off around my living room.  That’s staying power.

14. “Here’s Where The Strings Come In” – Superchunk

Alt-rock the way it should be.  Loud and aggressive for the sake of being loud and aggressive.  Containing lyrics that don’t always make sense, because screw it, basically, Here’s Where The Strings Come In serves up a collection of hooks and power chords that will punch you in the face and then wrap its arms around you and say, “No hard feelings.”  Also, the breakdown on “Detroit Has A Skyline” is just rad.

15. “Pet Sounds” – The Beach Boys

Has there ever been an album that has worked on more levels than Pet Sounds?  Maybe, but I doubt it.  Casual pop music fans to the most devoted audiophile can find plenty to love in The Beach Boys’ magnum opus.  Containing some of the greatest songs of all time (seriously, this album has “Wouldn’t It Be Nice” and “God Only Knows,” how can you compete?), Pet Sounds weaves a sonic tapestry (the only album you can say that about without sounding pretentious) that seems to mutate with each new listen.

16. “The Great Destroyer” – Low

At times quiet and beautiful, at other times dark and foreboding, Low’s The Great Destroyer lives in its own musical niche.  Using a relatively small arsenal of sounds and some breathtaking vocal harmonies, the Duluth-based group is able to craft a surprisingly diverse collection of songs, from the menacing “Monkey” to the deceptively uplifting “Broadway (So Many People)” to the absolutely devastating “Death of a Salesman.”

17. “Get Happy!!” – Elvis Costello & The Attractions

Probably the most aptly titled album in the history of music, Elvis Costello wastes no time as he whips through 20 R&B-tinged tracks of rock and roll.  Perhaps lacking in standout tracks, that just makes the album itself that much more valuable in and of itself.  Without any one song towering over the others, what we are left with is an album that you wind up listening to all the way through, and enjoying for every second.

18. “Costello Music” – The Fratellis

For an album with relatively modest ambitions, The Fratellis sure did knock Costello Music right the hell out of the park.  Effortlessly enjoyable for its entire runtime with only one half-dud of a song, this has been and will remain to be my ultimate cheer up record.  You can’t not smile.

19. “Separation Sunday” – The Hold Steady

Weaving tales of booze, drugs, Twin Cities night life, hoodrats, and a girl named Halleluiah together with a sound that evokes Springsteen on steroids, The Hold Steady are a band like no other.  Craig Finn half sings, half shouts his lyrics that remain far more interesting than the music underneath, but although that sounds like a dig, it’s the endless jagged riffing that gives Separation Sunday its spine (and another part of its anatomy found south of the waistline).

20. “Walk Among Us” – The Misfits

Walk Among Us probably isn’t the greatest punk record ever made, but goddamn if it isn’t up there.  Tying horror movie imagery to a three chord construction, The Misfits jump in devilocks first and don’t let up for 14 songs of pure hardcore goodness.  Many of the album’s contemporaries were maybe more “important,” but Walk Among Us is deathless.  Ironic for an album so obsessed with the afterlife.

Posted under Kyle's Adventures in Pop Culture

This past Friday, some friends and I were out at the bars and decided to finish off our evening at a club (it was The Brat (gotta love a place that can smell over-poweringly like disinfectant while still being so tangibly dirty, in more ways than one (I’m looking at you, several couples making out on the dance floor (Inception joke)))).  Shortly after our arrival, the DJ announced his intention to schuck the typical top 40 nonsense in favor of atypical and old school material, including some punk.  He then proceeded to play “All the Small Things.”

Now, obviously this is patently ridiculous (even though everyone loved it, myself included), because while, yes, Enema of the State is 12 years old, to ascribe the moniker of “Old School Punk” to it is to demonstrate a definite misunderstanding of old school punk.  But it got me thinking about the album, and the next day while at home, I gave it a listen for the first time in who knows how many years.

It still holds up for the most part.  Unfortunate juvenilia runs a little rampant, but I actually found profundity and maturity where I hadn’t noticed it before (maybe because I wanted to find it, not necessarily because it’s actually there).  “What’s My Age Again?” skirts childishness, but is actually just self-aware enough to recognize that the protagonist’s actions are not befitting an adult.  “Going Away to College” is a surprisingly deft examination of late-teenage angst and the aforementioned “Small Things” is a bouncy and touching song about the little moments that can make a relationship so great.

But despite all of this, there is no denying the intensely thick layer of sugar that coats the album from front to back (“Adam’s Song” aside).  Enema is a slick album, one that was manufactured for mass consumption, and to genuinely describe it as “punk” is misguided.  And yet, this was the album that marked my head-first dive into that wonderful thing we know as punk rock.  I had spent junior high listening to rap and nü-metal (I am not proud of this), and when blink came along, I finally had something that actually stirred something inside me.

Do I wish my first punk album was something other than Enema of the State?  Something like Milo Goes To College, Never Mind The Bollocks, London Calling, or Zen Arcade?  Sure.  Absolutely.  But that wasn’t going to happen.  After spending 8th grade listening to Significant Other on the bus, there didn’t really exist a situation where the Misfits or Jawbreaker or Bad Religion was going to come into my life.  No, my first step into punk rock was always destined to be a shaky one, and it just so happened that the time I was ready for something different aligned pretty neatly with blink’s rise to superstardom.

And boy, was I hooked.  I can remember hearing “What’s My Age Again?” and “All the Small Things” back-to-back for the first time, and feeling a reaction deep in my gut.  It was fast, it was immature, and it was (at least to my 13-year-old ears) reckless.  But most importantly?  It was fun!

You know earlier, when I said I spent 8th grade listening to Significant Other?  That wasn’t an exaggeration, every morning and every afternoon, I spent the bus ride buried in headphones listening to Fred Durst yell at me, because I didn’t have any other music to call my own.  And if you want to get a clear picture of how powerful pop-punk can be, listen to Limp Bizkit for a year.  Cathartic doesn’t begin to describe it.

After having formed no serious musical opinions for myself, and instead listening to whatever my friends (who were soon to stop sharing my musical tastes for the remainder of our youths) were listening to at the time, I had finally found something that I loved, not because it clicked with someone else, but because it clicked with me.

Enema served as my springboard into, first, other pop-punk bands like Green Day, New Found Glory, Sum 41 (shut up) and several forgotten bands that disappeared as quickly as they sprang up.  From there came third wave ska (Less Than Jake, Reel Big Fish, Catch 22) and emo, mostly of the Drive Thru Records variety (I was big into Something Corporate, The Starting Line, and Allister, all who have gone on to bigger and better things pretty much nothing (okay, Something Corporate led to Jack’s Mannequin)).

And gradually my tastes hardened and I longed for more aggression, a desire you could probably trace back to Rancid (seriously, how is …And Out Come The Wolves so freaking awesome?).  From that came my eventual forays into The Sex Pistols, Minor Threat, and the Misfits (find me a better punk album than Walk Among Us.  Go.  Right now.  I’ll wait.).

And somehow, all of this has lead me to where I am today, a reasonably well-rounded and well-versed music listener.  Someone with CDs by Jawbreaker, Brandi Carlile, The Hold Steady, Reel Big Fish, and Bon Iver in his car.  Someone who will readily karaoke The Dead Milkmen and Frank Sinatra in the same night.  Someone who is hungry for more.  And strangely this can all be traced back to a candy-coated, crassly titled, pop-punk album by blink 182.  And so for that I say this: Mark, Tom, and Travis, I don’t really listen to you anymore and you pretty much suck live, but I owe you everything.  I will always kind of love you.

Posted under Kyle's Adventures in Pop Culture

Over the weekend I was watching a bit of Fuse’s Celebration of Mediocrity Top 40 of 2010 which gave recognition to the “best” songs that came out this year.  It got me thinking about the state of pop music and why most of it is just plain awful.  Now before I get too far on this tirade (and believe me, it will likely be a tirade) I understand that by virtue of me having different taste in music than most people who listen to Top 40, I am probably not qualified to comment on music I’m pre-disposed to dislike.  But I’m going to anyway.

Let me begin by stating that I don’t actually hate all pop music.  I genuinely enjoy (or at least ironically enjoy) several songs mass-marketed to a mainstream audience.  The thing that bugs me, though, is that so many songs seem to be popular solely because the powers-that-be deem them to be popular.  Anyone with even a mild cynical streak (hello!) could easily draw the conclusion that the people who listen to this stuff are mindless drones who just like what they’re told to like.  For example, could somebody please explain to me the draw behind ‘Like A G6?’  Everytime I hear that song, I fail to hear anything that even resembles a melody or a steady beat, making it unpleasant to listen OR dance to.

At least with songs like ‘OMG,’ while they may be inhumanely annoying, they at least have a beat and can therefore be danced to in a club setting.  Which hits upon my biggest (and pretty much only) standard for a pop song: be catchy, and barring that, be danceable.  But really, be catchy.  Unfortunately most music artists and producers seem to have the opposite agenda, favoring danceability way more than hooks.  Which would be fine if a club were the only place you ever heard this stuff, but those pesky radio stations like to reach a wide audience (jerks).

My other giant complaint about pop music is that most of the songs, when they’re not being completely irritating, are borrrrrrrring.  Going back to Fuse’s list, ‘Airplanes’ by B.O.B. came in at number 12, and I’d be hard-pressed to think of a bigger snooze-fest to come out in the last year, whereas ‘Magic’ by B.O.B. is a song I’ll get sick of roughly never.  But ‘Magic’ doesn’t make the list, and I think it stems from fun songs being looked at less seriously, whereas ‘serious’ (read: boring) songs are given WAY too much credence.  And that would explain why Eminem’s latest crop of material has been so well-received, even though it’s just tuneless anger.  Also why ‘Use Somebody’ by Kings of Leon was such a gigantic hit despite being completely God-awful.  I mean seriously, that song sucked out loud.

A lesser (yet still reasonably major) issue I have is many artists taking their art entirely too seriously.  So while I genuinely enjoy most of Lady Gaga’s music (except for ‘Paparazzi’ which was terrible and ‘Alejandro’ which is an interesting song exactly never), I am, by-and-large, fed up with Lady Gaga.  She has bought so completely into the system that I think she’s lost the ability to switch off and become a normal person.  Which brings me to why I like Ke$ha so much.  I know a lot of people find her obnoxious (and that’s not an argument without merit), but I kind of dig her music.  But what I really find endearing about her is the fact that she doesn’t really seem to buy into the image of her that’s been crafted.  I feel like at the end of the day, Ke$ha becomes Kesha, whereas Lady Gaga doesn’t become Stephanie (I didn’t have to look that up, unfortunately).

The flip side of that though, is that Ke$ha is pretty much the most awkward performer in the history of the world.  But since I rarely find myself in situations that require watching these types of artists perform, I’ll totally take not being able to watch her in exchange for (in my opinion) some of the catchiest pop music out there right now.  Also, News 18′s own Megan Wiebold does interpretive Ke$ha (which is exactly what it sounds like), and that’s pretty awesome.

Posted under Kyle's Adventures in Pop Culture

Prior to last winter, my relationship with the music of Radiohead would have been classified as “Casual” at best.  I had listened to and basically enjoyed OK Computer and Pablo Honey, but it didn’t go beyond that.  I was aware of their reputation as musical geniuses and the consensus that every album they made was a masterpiece to end all masterpieces (or something like that), I just hadn’t had that moment where my enjoyment of them transended from “I recognize this as good music” to “OHMYGODTHISISTHEBESTMUSICEVER!!!!!!!!”

Until last winter.  I had picked up a copy of The Bends from our local library, and chose to listen to it in my car on a cold, quiet night.  I was stopped at a red light on a street lined with trees decorated with slowly twinkling christmas lights.  This is a setting that would be hard to characterize as anything but beautiful regardless of the soundtrack, yet that moment turned into something breath-taking as soon as “High and Dry” permeated the air.  That was the exact moment that I fell in love with Radiohead.

This past spring I decided I wanted to get into The National (thanks go to my friend Cade for playing them for me at his house one evening), so I stopped off one evening after work and picked up their newest release High Violet.  The clocks had already sprung forward, so despite it being rather late in the day, the sun was still out and shining bright as I popped in an album full of melancholy.  Go figure, it didn’t click.

A few weeks later, I was headed home to the Cities for the weekend and decided to give The National another shot.  The weather was less pleasant that day (it was overcast), and all of a sudden the brilliance of The National was readily apparent.  I was just listening to them under the wrong circumstances.  The point is sometimes you just need that perfect combination of sound and setting.

Which the radio is not at all concerned with providing.  If I listened to nothing but the radio A. my familiarity with Radiohead probably wouldn’t extend beyond “Creep” and B. I probably wouldn’t have even heard of The National (and several other bands, as well).  With radio you lack control, control that can be the difference between casual enjoyment and being head over heels in love.

Weather is absolutely key in deciding what music you want to listen to.  As mentioned above, I am totally enamored with Radiohead, but on a bright, sun-shiny day there is no situation that could arise in which I would even kind of want to listen to Kid A.  Likewise on a rainy, cloudy, just generally miserable day I’m going to lean away from punk, ska, or otherwise fun and bubbly music.  Pop music especially doesn’t play well in these scenarios (for me, anyway) which leaves Top 40 stations in the lurch anytime the weather turns foul, fortunately that rarely happens in the Midwest.

There are some artists who transcend weather just by being universally amazing.  The Beatles, for one, can be listened to anytime you darn well please.  Some bands vary by album, Separation Sunday plays a little more to the overcast, whereas Boys and Girls in America will better satisfy your Hold Steady fix on a sunny day (however, they both have crossover appeal, as do the rest of their albums).  Early Beach Boys obviously plays better in the sunshine, but Pet Sounds will play in either, such is the brilliance of that record.

And it of course is different for every artist and every album and every song.  I am aware of this, and on many occasions while listening to a radio station you will hear a song that is absolutely perfect for your scenario (I, personally, once heard “Here It Goes Again” by OKGO on the day that I had my camera ripped out of my hands by a puppy mill operator and went home to find a mouse had drowned in my toilet.  Needless to say the lyric ‘I guess there’s got to be a break in the monotony, but Jesus, when it rains how it pours’ rang especially true for me that day), but more often than not you are entrusting your personal soundtrack to someone not in your vicinity, who doesn’t know, and doesn’t particularly care what you, specifically, are in the mood for.

And it’s not their fault, they have to try to entertain thousands of people all at the same time.  A dubious prospect at least, and one that is likely to fail 99% of the time.  That is why I choose to remove myself from the equation altogether and act as my own DJ.  You could argue (and not without validity) that I take this way too seriously, that I should lighten up and just let someone else handle the music.  Well to you, I say… mind your own business.

Posted under Kyle's Adventures in Pop Culture

In the past I’ve made mention of the fact that when it comes to music, I have been really, really stupid.  An analogy I’ve adopted as of late (but have refused to vocalize, because I’m sure it would sound dumb if said out loud) is that in the ocean of music, I spent a lot of time treading water.

But even with my limited knowledge of music, I was still an avid listener.  And as such, periodically I did hit on something outside my typical comfort zone.  But given my stupidity, those outliers didn’t always take.  Which brings us to today, and the new and improved me (or Me 2.0 if you will, although I wouldn’t).  My musical tastes have matured and expanded, and I’ve gone back to a few of those outliers and reevaluated them.

Some of them have struck me much the way they had initially.  A few weeks ago I gave Arctic Monkeys’ Whatever People Say I Am, That’s What I’m Not a spin.  I had initially purchased it on the strength of “I Bet That You Look Good On The Dancefloor,” but the rest of the album, in my opinion, just fell flat.  And upon revisiting it, I must say that the album still falls flat; even “Dancefloor,” which at first I found impossibly catchy, now strikes me as artificial.  The rest of the songs all tend to blend together into a mass of vaguely punk-sounding noise-rock.  Hooks are in short supply here, and the album suffers as a result.  Arctic Monkeys are definitely a band with whom I do not regret not following through.

I have also revisited another punk-lite British band whose debut album I randomly bought in a timely fashion, Kaiser Chiefs.  However, unlike Whatever People Say…, I fell in love with Employment.  Once again, this is an album I bought on the strength of the lead single, “I Predict A Riot” in this case, but upon first listen, I was disappointed that “Riot” was not exactly indicative of the album as a whole.  I was expecting a Clash-esque, throwback punk band, one that probably wouldn’t have had much of a shelf-life, sure, but one that I would have enjoyed when I was 18.

I was not expecting the New Wave, dance-pop mentality that runs rampant throughout Employment.  My younger self was unable to get on board with it.  However, my current self has been playing it with alarming frequency these past several months.  Songs that originally struck me as trite and obnoxious, I now can’t get enough of. I initially found ”Na Na Na Na Naa” amusing for roughly the first 10 seconds, but I could never bring myself to listen past the initial chorus.  For whatever reason, I was unable to recognize the fact that that song is made of nothing but hooks.  It is literally wall-to-wall catchiness, and I hated it, why?  Because I was stupid!  We’ve been over this.

Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on how you look at it) there are not many other bands whose albums I had dismissed.  There are a lot that I just haven’t heard, but not many that I’ve chucked aside.  Which means I’m in for a long haul of ‘Better Late Than Never’ experiences.  Which I will begin… now!  Nnnow!  Now?  Well, as soon as I can.

Posted under Kyle's Adventures in Pop Culture

Comedy (like all things) is subjective.  I find some things funny that you may not and vice versa.  It’s the nature of the beast that not everyone can find everything funny.  But if you could sit through Conan O’Brien’s live show and not laugh, you should see a doctor because you probably died sometime last week.

Conan is on tour right now, and last night he played the Orpheum Theatre in Minneapolis and yours truly was fortunate enough to obtain a couple tickets.  Before the show even started you could tell that this was going to be a laidback, youth-oriented show.  The merch table had a sign requesting the use of a specific hashtag if you were going to be tweeting and the posted rule about no photography was clearly not being enforced.

The show began with opener Reggie Watts who has a very funny act that makes excellent use of a loop sampler and gibberish.  Most of the comprehensible language he used was not of the sort that I’m allowed to use in this blog, so I’ll sum up his act with one phrase: get your flapjack on.

After a brief interlude the meat of the show got underway with a couple numbers from the Legally Prohibited Band (basically the lineup of the Max Weinberg 7 whenever Max was on tour with Springsteen).  We got two songs, one sung by LaBamba, one by Mark Pender, both of whom have shockingly great voices (we’ve heard Pender, but LaBamba was a surprise).

We were then treated to a video that showed what exactly Conan has been up to since he lost his show (getting fat and passing out on trampolines), and then it was time.  Conan O’Brien in person.  I could have reached out and touched him (if my arms were about a thousand feet long).  It will probably go down as one of the defining moments of my life (I don’t care how sad that sounds) for I love Conan!

You could definitely tell that the affection he has been receiving on the road has touched him deeply, but it was also obvious that all of his jokes about wanting to get back on TV were coming from someplace very real inside of him.  But for all the bitterness that most people feel he’s entitled to, he was actually very restrained when it came to badmouthing the others involved in the Tonight Show Shuffle (outside of a video wherein he played a ruthless network executive who, for legal reasons, went unnamed).

From there it was just a brilliant evening of madcap hilarity.  Andy Richter was there to act as Conan’s sidekick (and to provide insight on that greatest of Minneapolis institutions: The Juicy Lucy).  Former Tonight Show writer Deon Cole did some standup that proved amusing, the jokes weren’t great, but that was kind of the point, lets leave it at that.

The show also featured some visits from Late Night favorites including Triumph the Insult Comic Dog and the Masturbating Bear (the latter of which required a change in name and physical appearance, he’s now the Self-Pleasuring Panda).  Conan did a lot of new material but he recycled one bit that disappointed noone: the Walker, Texas Ranger Lever!  We got five good pulls that, of course, ended with Haley Joel Osment providing the phrase internet memes are made of, “Walker told me I have AIDS.”

Surprise guests have been a regular thing on the tour so far, I heard Pearl Jam (or at least Eddie Vedder) performed in Seattle, Jim Carrey has shown up, Hanson made an appearance, and as we were driving into the cities we were speculating about who it might be (Prince was suggested, but deemed unlikely, Al Franken was also proposed), we were wrong on all fronts, for the special guest at last night’s show turned out to be none other than Brian freakin’ Setzer(!) who wasted no time before diving into a blazing rendition of ‘Rock This Town’ with Conan accompanying on guitar.

The whole evening (along with every other stop on the tour, probably) stands as proof of Conan’s fans undying affection for him.  I think everyone would have preferred him to be allowed to keep the Tonight Show, but if he had, none of us would have had the opportunity to see Conan O’Brien decked out in the purple, leather jumpsuit from Eddie Murphy’s Raw.

Posted under Kyle's Adventures in Pop Culture

Dear Hipsters,

I am writing this letter to ask one simple favor, stop picking on Weezer.  They (as far as I can tell) haven’t done anything to deserve the amount of hatred a lot of you have been spewing on them for the last several years.  Sure, their recent outcrop of albums don’t live up to the quality standard they set early on, but that shouldn’t come as such a surprise.  The Blue Album and Pinkerton are amazing albums and are revered as such.  But there are varying degrees of quality between ‘Masterpiece’ and ‘Soul-Suckingly Awful,’ a fact that most of you are pretty good at remembering… except when it comes to Weezer.

Now believe me when I say this, I get where you’re coming from, nothing Weezer has done post-Pinkerton has been great (except Maladroit, that album honestly rules), but that doesn’t mean they are completely worthless.  The Green Album has more than its share of finely-crafted pop songs (although I really don’t care much for Hash Pipe), Maladroit, as I’ve already mentioned, is an honest-to-God amazing album, and if you haven’t heard it you really need to (and please listen to it with an open mind).  Make Believe, I will admit, I have not given a fair shake to, I’ve heard three songs, two of them I can’t in good conscience say I like (Beverly Hills and We Are All On Drugs) and one that is perfect latter-day Weezer (Perfect Situation).  They, admittedly, went off the rails a bit with The Red Album, but still managed roughly half of a good record.  Raditude, again, not great, but there is way more to like there than a lot of you would like to let on.

Seriously, what is with the hate?  (If You’re Wondering If I Want You To) I Want You To is nothing if not an amazingly fun and catchy tune.  Yet to listen to you, you’d think it was a terribly constructed, cringe-inducing, nightmarish slog of a song that was a chore to even overhear from the next room.  And I don’t think that’s fair.  In actuality, I find the song to be something of a spiritual cousin to El Scorcho.  Think about it, acoustic verses, big bombastic choruses, oddly specific lyrics of love and angst; sure, it’s more poppy than El Scorcho, but there’s more there than you’re admitting.

But like I said, I get it, you want Weezer to make more music like they used to, heck, I want Weezer to make more music like they used to, but you know who doesn’t want Weezer to make more music like they used to?  Weezer, that’s who, and ultimately, it’s up to them.  For now, they seem to be enjoying themselves making low-stakes pop music, and I say, more power to them.  I’m not trying to say you’re not allowed to hate Weezer (far be it for me to come between a hipster and their hatred), all I ask is that, if you must hate them, hate them for the music they are making, not the music they’re not making.

Sincerely,

Level-Headed Weezer Fan

Posted under Kyle's Adventures in Pop Culture

Back in January of 2004, I went to a concert headlined by MXPX (who were good) and Simple Plan (who were not).  The two bands opening for them were Sugarcult (who I was regrettably a fan of at the time) and some little band I’d never heard of called Motion City Soundtrack.  When I arrived at the show, Motion City had already started, and as I was not familiar with their music, I stood in the back and listened respectfully.  I enjoyed what I heard, but I was basically waiting for this little band to stop so I could rock out to some Sugarcult (in my previous blog post I talked about being really stupid, I present this anecdote as further proof).

About a week or two later, I found myself in a record store looking through the racks of CDs.  In my browsing, I happened upon I Am The Movie, the debut full length from that little band Motion City Soundtrack that I had just seen recently.  ‘What the heck?’ I thought.  I had enjoyed them, chances were good I would at the very least not hate this record, so I bought it.  And then I listened to it.  And then my mind got blown.  I had never (nor have I since) fallen so instantly in love with an album the way I did with I Am The Movie.  I was instantly hooked, and Motion City became one of my favorite bands, a position they still hold six years later.

Now to January of this year, and the release of their fourth album My Dinosaur Life, which I was anticipating like it was the cure for an imaginary fatal disease I had imaginarily (an actual word) contracted.  When the day finally arrived, I bought it within the first hour of it hitting the racks and proceeded to listen to it roughly non-stop for the following week.  Given that my anticipation had reached fever pitch and the album was, if nothing else, a solid piece of pop-craftsmanship, I began giving glowing reviews of it to anyone who would listen.

Now here’s where my troubles lie, I started to feel as if I was passing on the perception that this was one of the greatest albums in recent memory, if not ever.  And this is simply not true.  It’s not even Motion City’s best.  If pressed, I’d actually call it their worst (in that it’s the least good).  I don’t want to give off the impression that I don’t like this album, because I do, I really do.  It’s just that it doesn’t come anywhere near the perfection of I Am The Movie or Commit This To Memory and while Even If It Kills Me isn’t perfect, it is solid and consistent throughout.  And this is where My Dinosaur Life‘s problems occur, it’s inconsistency.  For the first time there are Motion City songs that I would rather not listen to.  And that worries me.

But not too much, because My Dinosaur Life does have some amazing songs on it.  ‘Worker Bee’ may be the best album opener they’ve ever had, and ‘Her Words Destroyed My Planet’ has fast proven itself to be one of the greatest MCS songs ever.  Then you have other songs like ‘Disappear’ which is darker than anything that’s come before it (Motion City related, that is), and ‘Stand Too Close’ which might just be the sweetest love song in years.  ‘@!#?@!’ is an interesting curio, as it is simultaneously their nerdiest and heaviest endeavor.  It opens with a crushing assault of a guitar riff, and then Justin Pierre starts singing, ‘Early in ’99, I beat the Ocarina of Time, I’m quite the legend in this town.’  In a word: epic.

But then you have more troubling fare, songs like ‘Delirium’ and ‘Hysteria’ settle for being catchy, yet forgettable.  ‘Pulp Fiction’ has some great lyrics, but not the hooks to fully sell it.  ‘Skin and Bones’ is probably the most interesting song they’ve ever written, but is just sonically bland.  ‘History Lesson’ is strangely Dylan-esque, which is ultimately distracting and unnecessary, and ‘The Weakends’ just sounds unfinished.

Plus, this album failed in doing something all their other albums have done successfully (for better or worse), and that is to find a sound unique to itself.  Their previous three albums, while similar, managed to set themselves apart from each other.  My Dinosaur Life, on the other hand, just sounds like the previous three albums all mixed together.  ‘A Lifeless Ordinary,’ for example, sounds so much like an outtake from Even If It Kills Me, that I’m not entirely convinced its not.  Perhaps this was what the band was going for, and perhaps its actually a good thing, regardless, it yields an album that suffers from an identity crisis, when we, the fans, are used to albums that can stand on their own.

I still love Motion City Soundtrack, and despite having more negative things to say about their latest release than I’ve ever had to say about anything else they’ve ever done, I still greatly enjoyed this record.  While it’s not the most original thing they’ve ever come up with, it is almost impossible to hate.

Posted under Kyle's Adventures in Pop Culture

I have something to get off my chest.  In my formative years (high school, early college) I was a terrible music listener.  Not that the music I listened to was terrible (although in retrospect, a lot of it was), just that my listening habits were deplorable.  I would purchase CDs and proceed to only listen to the one hit song.  I would only give songs on an album about 10-15 seconds to hook me before moving on.  And I would only listen to music that fell under the general realm of ‘pop-punk’ and would pretty much shun any ‘sad bastard music’ (to needlessly [and awesomely] quote High Fidelity) under the pretense that I only liked upbeat music.  I now realize that actually, I was just stupid.  Really, really stupid.

To top it off, I had huge musical blind spots.  There are amazing bands that I hadn’t even heard of until way later that I’m comfortable admitting.  But that’s ultimately a good thing.  Because if I had listened to, say, The Smiths* in high school, the odds are really good that I would not have cared for them, and that would be an opinion I would likely still hold to this day. 

However, since I was so, so stupid, I was able to come to The Smiths on my own terms (albeit extremely late) and they have since become a band I have fallen in love with.  Whether that means I’m going through a darker phase in my life where melancholy music speaks to me more, or my ear has matured enough to be able to appreciate more than just a good hook, I can’t really say.  All I know is, I’m glad my stupid younger self didn’t ruin it for me completely.  I do wish I’d have discovered The Replacements sooner, though.

*Also goes for The Velvet Underground, Radiohead, Tom Waits, and pretty much every indie band I’ve started to listen to in the past two years.

Posted under Kyle's Adventures in Pop Culture