Cratering

A half-stack doesn't fit in the trunk.

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Cratering

a half-stack doesn't fit in the trunk
Robbie Fulks - Pretty Little Poison
(130 plays)

Pretty Little Poison // Robbie Fulks feat. Lucinda Williams

Careful. The dark sexual energy of this song can strip paint off of steel.

Indigo Girls - Kid Fears
(10 plays)

Kid Fears // Indigo Girls

Grownupping sucks.

Are you on fire from the years?
What would you give for your kid fears?

Asia - Only Time Will Tell
(148 plays)

Only Time Will Tell // Asia

whatever. shut up. i’m in a place.

Journey - Too Late
(69 plays)

Too Late // Journey

If you want to really understand me as a musician—or, for that matter, as a man, friend, lover, and champion kickboxer—you need do nothing more than listen to Evolution-era Journey.

Yes - Hold On
(20 plays)

Hold On // Yes

Unpopular opinion (in prog circles): 90125 is Yes’ best album. By a lot. Actual songs, with actual choruses and verses and hooks, as opposed to fifteen to twenty minute excursions in pudwhackery? Yes, thank you. (Heh.)

I’m also not a super big fan of Steve Howe as a guitarist. I saw this tour and remember Trevor Rabin stretching out at the end of this and absolutely tearing off every face in the stadium. On this studio version, he only does about 8 bars before it fades, and still manages to get about 1/4 of my face dislodged.

(4,425 plays)

bijan:

Here Comes A RegularThe Replacements

Well a person can work up a mean, mean thirst
After a hard day of nothing much at all

(Source: therandomtracks)

Go Go // The Bradburys

Gratuitous Music Video Saturday is a thing or should be. I have lots of new followers who may not know that there’s more to me than thrice-weekly tumblr posts of sarcastic bullet points.

Here’s me (on the left, which is stage right, The More You Know™) from about 2 years ago with The Bradburys, doing our power pop thing on a big stage. It’s a cool video, shot by a local TV station with a full 4-camera treatment. If you like straight-ahead rock and loud guitars, or just want to see me make guitar face, give a click.

Robbie Fulks - Caked Joy Rag
(69 plays)

Caked Joy Rag // Robbie Fulks

Hello, friends. I’m sorry I haven’t had much time to play with you here lately. Things are good. I have stuff in progress.

In the interim, please enjoy another entry in the occasional series entitled, “Guitarists You’ve Never Heard Of Who Are Better Than John Mayer.” In this episode, I present you with two in one song, Robbie Fulks and his longtime sidekick Robbie Gjersoe. Don’t worry about the genre. Listen to these men play. Trust me.

Fountains Of Wayne - Prom Theme
(79 plays)

Prom Theme // Fountains of Wayne

Here we are at last
We’re running out of gas
The air is getting thick
The girls are feeling sick
We’ll pass out on the beach
Our keys just out of reach
And soon we’ll say goodbye
Then we’ll work until we die

Green Day - Jesus of Suburbia (medley)
(9 plays)

Jesus Of Suburbia / City Of The Damned / I Don’t Care / Dearly Beloved / Tales Of Another Broken Home // Green Day

You guys, today sucked.

For sure, there’s angrier music in my collection, but this one really seems to hit the sneering, what in the actual fuck? tone I was looking for.

New Politics - Harlem
(109 plays)

Harlem // New Politics

This song would have fit perfectly at the community pool in the summer of 1975, blasting out of those big, metal speakers up on the light poles.

Our tongues are purple from eating Bomb Pops, Mom’s over there reading her magazine between idle drags on her Parliament Slim, and the water smells more like coconut tanning oil than chlorine. Let’s play Marco Polo.

AC/DC - Highway To Hell
(79 plays)

Highway To Hell // AC/DC

This is what I’m talking about.

Rage Against The Machine - I'm Housin'
(79 plays)

I’m Housin’ // Rage Against The Machine

Relate to the matter as I drop the bomb

Sugar - Helpless
(59 plays)

Helpless // Sugar

Still on my Bob Mould high from Sunday night.

In the mid-80’s, Hüsker Dü exploded in classic rock-and-roll fashion: drugs, alcohol, fistfights over songwriting credit, insults on stage, etc. Hot hate. Bob and Grant still take shots at each other in the media. Bob took a little time off, dried out, and in 1989 he went up to a farm in the Minnesota woods and wrote Workbook, a dark, brooding, angry masterpiece that goes to the desert island with me. 

Shortly after that he released Black Sheets of Rain. You can probably guess from the title that it isn’t a walk in the park, either. It’s angrier and more violent, and where Workbook has a lot of sparse, clean guitar playing, this second album brought back the wall of screaming guitar sound he was more known for previously. I love the record, but no one else does. His label reports official sales of 7,000 units to date.

Perhaps realizing that expressing all that anger wasn’t helping, or maybe because he had gotten it out of his system, he next formed Sugar and out comes Copper Blue with a fair number of upbeat, almost poppy tunes like this. Happy Bob! But no:

And now you find as time goes by
You’re left with nothing meaning much

Angry Bob became Existential Crisis Bob.

Hang in there, Bob. It will get better. (to be continued, maybe)

Last night I got to see one of my heroes, Bob Mould, at City Winery, a really intimate venue in the west loop. He is touring to mark the 25th anniversary of Workbook, which I believe is a masterpiece. It laid the foundation for the decade+ of alternative rock that followed a couple of years later. Guys who were there, like Dave Grohl, will tell you so.
I’ve seen Bob maybe a half-dozen times in various configurations, which puts him at or near the top of the list of artists I’ve seen most often. I remember one night at Metro when he showed up late, walked out on stage by himself, took out his mid-80’s blue American Standard Strat (I have one too, coincidentally) and then proceeded to rip everyone’s head off all by himself, no band required. I also saw him with Sugar at the Aragon Ballroom, which remains the loudest concert I have ever attended.
Last night, he did something I don’t think I’ve seen him do before: he had Jason and Allison (formerly of Verbow, local heroes who were labelmates of ours back in the day) on guitar/bass and cello. No drums.
And I’m here to tell you that 53-year-old man absolutely rocked everyone’s face into liquid. And how completely inspirational. Without getting too corny, unless I do, it was a timely and necessary affirmation to me that it doesn’t have to be over, at my age or any other. I was grinning like an idiot the whole time, trying not to sing along too loudly. I was once teased by a friend at one of his shows that I was drowning out the band. It was all I could do to resist doing it again last night.
I tried recording a little of it but it didn’t work out. That’s OK, because I don’t think it could possibly do justice to the experience as it occurred live in the room.

Last night I got to see one of my heroes, Bob Mould, at City Winery, a really intimate venue in the west loop. He is touring to mark the 25th anniversary of Workbook, which I believe is a masterpiece. It laid the foundation for the decade+ of alternative rock that followed a couple of years later. Guys who were there, like Dave Grohl, will tell you so.

I’ve seen Bob maybe a half-dozen times in various configurations, which puts him at or near the top of the list of artists I’ve seen most often. I remember one night at Metro when he showed up late, walked out on stage by himself, took out his mid-80’s blue American Standard Strat (I have one too, coincidentally) and then proceeded to rip everyone’s head off all by himself, no band required. I also saw him with Sugar at the Aragon Ballroom, which remains the loudest concert I have ever attended.

Last night, he did something I don’t think I’ve seen him do before: he had Jason and Allison (formerly of Verbow, local heroes who were labelmates of ours back in the day) on guitar/bass and cello. No drums.

And I’m here to tell you that 53-year-old man absolutely rocked everyone’s face into liquid. And how completely inspirational. Without getting too corny, unless I do, it was a timely and necessary affirmation to me that it doesn’t have to be over, at my age or any other. I was grinning like an idiot the whole time, trying not to sing along too loudly. I was once teased by a friend at one of his shows that I was drowning out the band. It was all I could do to resist doing it again last night.

I tried recording a little of it but it didn’t work out. That’s OK, because I don’t think it could possibly do justice to the experience as it occurred live in the room.