Way late. Damn it.

This Week: Fear 1, Me 0
Current Score: Me 25, Fear 12

I spent a ton of time over the last week trying to figure out the answer to a question I have written on the whiteboard in my room: “What would make me happy?”

As some of you know, I do a bunch of different things, enjoy a bunch of different things, but I’m not much of a “finisher”, so to speak. Focus can be a real problem for me, as can getting the things I do from concept to execution, which sometimes feels like clerical work after the initial buzz of the idea itself wears off. I’ve been working on all of this as a long-term project for longer than I’ve been at this fear thing, and lately, it’s distilled itself into me trying to figure out what the next move I can make would be that would provide the most happiness possible and enable me to accomplish the most for the least amount of adversity, given the state of my life. I’ve been thinking about this a lot, really trying to nail some things down, and as a result, trying to answer the question “What would make me happy?” has begun to cause stress in my life. It’s a very First World kind of stress, not “I’m bleeding to death” or “I have no food, water or shelter”, and in a way, I’m blessed to be able to ask myself this question over and over and over again, but it’s also not the healthiest thing I could be doing for myself, mentally or emotionally. It’s fear-based on a lot of different fronts, and it got me, hence this week’s score.

I was at Brad Meltzer’s reading for his new, excellent book “Heroes For My Son” on Tuesday night, a little after what would normally be the cut-off time for this week’s musings, but an important piece of wisdom trickled down from there, tied to this line of thought. One of the heroes Brad names in his book is his late mom, Teri Meltzer, and the story he uses to illustrate her heroism speaks of a difficult time in his career when he was stressing out over a potentially major professional shift that, he felt, could’ve been “it” for him in the bad way. When he was talking to his mom about this, she simply said “I’d love you if you were a garbage man.” According to Brad, every time he sits down to write these days, he says “I’d love you if you were a garbage man” to himself before he starts.

There’s a powerful, two-way lesson in that sentence. Not only does it read like a guidebook on how to love the important people in our lives unconditionally, but it also serves as a reminder that, whether we always realize it or not, there most likely is or was someone, if not a lot of someones in our lives who would love us no matter what. I really am trying and do try to accomplish things every single day of my life, on some level, but in trying to conquer the world, finish an album, straighten out my life or even finish a sentence, it’s vitally important not just to me but to everyone that I don’t lose sight of the fact that, if I never accomplish a single thing in my life from this moment on, chances are, there were, are and will be people in my life who love me anyway, just because I’m me (thank you, if you’re one of those people), and the same most likely applies to all of you, even those of you in the audience who are truly awful like I am. (I keed, I keed.)

Staggering, isn’t it? This should be so obvious to all of us (especially those of us who have heard “Don’t Give Up” by Peter Gabriel and Kate Bush as often as I have), but the world, starting within ourselves, does its best to make us lose sight of it sometimes. So, I’d like to thank both Brad and Teri Meltzer for the wakeup call there, and from here on, I’m going to try not to let myself lose sight of it as often as I feel like I have. I think this could help me a little with that goddamned voice in my head that tells me I need to spend every waking moment of my life trying to conquer the world or finish a sentence.

Finally, in defense of garbage men and garbage women and garbage transgender folks everywhere, it should be noted that Type O Negative’s singer, Peter Steele, who sadly passed away recently (and I’m way overdue on mentioning it here), worked for the New York City Sanitation Department for a long time. Despite being a garbage man, being kinda goofy at times, kinda pervy at others and kind of a really big mess at others still, hell, maybe because of all these things, Pete always struck me as good people at the end of the day…one of us, sorta, who I and a bunch of others will miss dearly.

I’m very late to the party on this one, and apparently the only person I know who bought it for Playstation 3 instead of XBox Tree Sissy, but I’ve quasi-finished the game (still missing a small handful of trophies, all related to downloadable content and the stupid PS 3 webcam), and here’s what I thought.

1. The game, on the whole, is fucking awesome and maybe the best driving/racing game of all time. OF ALL TIME!

2. That being said, the menus need a bunch of work. Hopefully Criterion are making them a little more intuitive on the next Burnout game.

3. The bikes have an awesome feel to them, and for a free download and a last-minute addition, they’re great. Hopefully in the next game, you’ll be able to do more with them (Road Rash-esque punching, Stunt Runs, bikes on the same playing field as cars, and so forth).

4. The downloadable content deal Criterion has going until March 31st ($20 for all the add-ons or $30 for the game and all the add-ons) is well worth it. I don’t work for Criterion, but if they want to cut me a check for saying this, I won’t complain.

5. On the whole, online gamers have gotten a little more conscientious since the last time I played anything extensively, but the ones that suck, well, they REALLY suck. I did get a lot of great help from a bunch of people along the way to finishing the important parts of the game, though, and thanks go out to the following individuals (names shortened a bit so you’re less likely to annoy them online): dave, GAS, michael, cr9ck, Icky, Saleen, gary, Monte, BAUSS, Fluff, Noia, Varp, Rabbid, Ice, heather, Hell, mdom, Dan, CNB, kopp, jolly, WOODY, ash, hana, KingG, and anyone else I may have forgotten.

6. There were a few usernames that I have to share with you, though: “mrvargas”, “UN_Jefferson” and “meatnormous_1″ were all pretty classy. I also saw all manner of “yourmom” usernames, a lot of “420″s, some creative end-runs around the block on the word “fuck”, and so forth. Oh, and the whole NUTKRACKER crew (who use the PS 3 voice changer to sound like they’ve inhaled helium) are a hoot, too.

7. To that end, parents, if you’re reading this, you should probably keep at least somewhat of an eye around your kids if they’ve got their Playstation 3 Internet-enabled. Don’t be an asshole and forbid them from using the Internet, leaving them totally unprepared for modern life, but keep an eye on stuff and talk to them about what they run into. There was a really bittersweet moment on Saturday morning when a kid we’ll refer to as “lil(nameredacted)” showed up on one of my games. Immediately, a hush fell over the game, which had previously been full of people talking (well, mostly cursing) on microphones. He sounded about 8, if that. I told him that I was probably going to have to have him leave, because “we use a lot of words here that your parents use when they drop things on their feet”, and he enthusiastically responded, “Oh, I KNOW THOSE WORDS! FUCKIN’ SHIT-” at which point, I regrettably had to kick what was probably a parallel universe version of my younger self. I still feel guilty. And no, it’s not really my responsibility to babysit or parent anyone, but if you do actually have children, as I’ve said in the disclaimer for my web site, “Get involved, and be a parent. If you don’t, then people who are far worse than the people responsible for “My Big, Black Cock” will.” It’s highly unlikely that anyone playing a racing game on the Playstation is going to steal your kid and make them do it with old men before throwing them in a wood chipper and bathing in their entrails, but they’re probably going to teach “lil(nameredacted)” how to use “THOSE WORDS” a little more quickly and creatively than perhaps you’d care for.

8. Somehow, during the course of one of the online events I played, “goat” became a verb. “Oh, he goated me.”

9. The Diamond P12, which is the “Holy shit, I have to finish *everything* in the game” car, is REALLY ugly, but it handles nice and purdy. I think it was Shirley Manson who once said “Ugly girls make the best shags” or something to that effect. Plus, it’s fun to annoy both people who have no idea how you got the goddamn car (150 hours of my life that I’ll never get back, folks) and the people who have played WAY more than you have, who see driving the Diamond P12 as the highest form of wankery possible in the game.

10. If Criterion ever release another game where you can’t turn off the Guns N’ Roses song they use as the intro/menu music, an angry mob will show up at their doors armed with clubs, torches, boiling oil and probably that wood chipper I mentioned in item number 7.

I could probably write more, and maybe I will at some point, but I wanted to get the nuts and bolts out there before it faded.

The first review I’ve read of the event wrote the whole thing off as a Kaufmanesque, performance-arty in-joke on the Tiger Woods thing (he did use the opening paragraph of Woods’ statement as the opening of the event, admittedly), and perhaps I’m naive or being totally hoodwinked here, but that’s not all or even most of what I saw.

I saw a guy who, whether his problems are of his own making or not, seemed genuinely rattled by the prospect of the “Is he or isn’t he?” rumors undoing 10 years of his work, during which he got the world to believe that a man can party. Hard.

If it was or is all an act, then call me a poor judge of peoples’ acting ability.

Because I’ve written a fair deal about him, met him a couple times and interviewed him a number of years ago, I feel like a lot of people have come to me as the go-to guy as the “Steev Mike”-related rumors have been mounting. Simply put, I’m not enough of an insider to tell you much about them with any authority. By the time I was following Andrew’s career (late 2001 to early 2002, I can’t quite place when I got on board now), the things that people are speculating about now were already pretty far gone.

My strictly speculative impressions, based purely upon what I’ve observed first-hand and read, are as follows:

I think that Andrew made business decisions when he was younger, very early in his career, that still have ramifications on what he’s doing now, possibly legally, possibly otherwise, and that, either by virtue of his word or a non-disclosure agreement, he doesn’t feel that he’s at liberty to talk about them. It also seems like this drives him a little nuts (to the point where he was stammering and squirming last night in ways that were honestly uncomfortable for me to watch), because he’s all about inclusion, and to not be able to fill people in genuinely seems to bother him, especially when you have people crying “fraud” about his work because of this. For some reason, in technology, NDAs are an accepted part of doing business, but not so much in entertainment, even as the two have basically bled together.

The stuff about there being several Andrew W.K.s, at least as of early 2002, I can confirm as total bullshit. Every time I’ve seen Andrew (5 times, counting last night), met Andrew (3 times) or talked to Andrew at any length (twice, including that very long interview), it’s been the same guy. Without much hesitation at all, he recalled our interview last night: “Man, that was a long time ago, but I remember that! It was a great interview! I was standing outside near train tracks.” The location was fuzzy for him (he guessed Connecticut, it was Worcester, MA), but for a guy who does and has done a literal fuckton of interviews, even that much recall is pretty damned good.

As far as his music and who wrote or played it goes, his musical pedigree’s pretty easy to trace, and he’s played at least 3 instruments, possibly 4 (I’m blanking on whether I’ve seen him play guitar in public) on stage proficiently. He’s always referred to his records as “this music” rather than “my music”, which struck me as acknowledgement that it was something that he viewed, either from a practical, technical standpoint or a philosophical one, as something bigger than himself. By most of his own accounts and those of others, he played most if not all of the instruments on at least “I Get Wet” and “The Wolf”.

If there’s anything I’d guess that he’s had help with in the studio, particularly back then, it would be his vocal tracks (which of course gets people all riled up, because that’s somehow the benchmark of authenticity when musicians and producers have been using every trick in the book on vocals since the advent of modern recording; folks, it dates back quite a bit further than Autotune…), because his vocal style’s evolved quite a bit over the years (the man met his wife through his voice teacher, so obviously, he’s put the work in…), and live, he’s never sounded exactly like his recorded vocals. Not bad, but different. That’d suggest sweetening, and probably studio vocalists to fill out the sound, but I wouldn’t say an entirely different lead vocalist.

Writing? Producers butt in on that shit all the time when you’re a major label artist, for better or worse, and again, Andrew’s been about inclusion every step of the way from what I’ve observed, so unless I’m mistaken, it’d be his gut instinct to take advice.

I think the best parallel I can draw here is one to Andy Warhol, who had plenty of help as well, and had his share of similar rumblings from people he’d worked with (I’d say that they were more frequent and more valid in Warhol’s case, but the tone’s very similar). Both Andy Warhol and Andrew W.K.’s work could be called “pop art”. Both have carefully packaged and presented their work. The major difference between the two is that Warhol seemed to leave agenda out of it (at least to me; your art critic’s mileage may vary), whereas Andrew W.K.’s got a very clear agenda: he wants to enjoy the hell out of life, and wants to encourage others to do the same.

That’s basically what I’ve got at this point. Even putting aside the “don’t make friends with rock stars” mantra (and again, perhaps naively, I would call Andrew a friend), I do think he and his work are being misunderstood and unfairly judged, but I’ve thought that since I first really got to experience more than just his recorded output, so this is nothing new. “This guy can’t possibly be for real” was and is the first impression of just about anyone (yes, me included) who’s been around popular music for more than a week, but when you get to know the guy a bit and get to see what he does, your opinion changes pretty quickly. If that makes me a guy who wants to believe in Santa Claus, or a guy who fell for Andy Kaufman’s schtick a generation later, so be it.

A short one this year:

The Devin Townsend Project’s “Ki” and Clutch’s “Strange Cousins From The West” are the only 2 new albums I listened to this year that really hit it out of the fucking park. Everything else, I either haven’t heard, have to spend more time with, or wasn’t blown away by. 2009 was one of the weaker music years I can remember. You should totally get both of the albums I just named, though, because they’re both fucking awesome.

One of the most-viewed, most-commented on pieces on My Big, Black Cock is a review I did of the promotional CD I got of the attempted Stiv Bators-less revival of The Lords Of The New Church. (I’d link to it, but it’d just encourage people. You can find it with a little digging.) I wrote the review almost 6 years ago, and as recently as today, people associated or formerly associated with the vocalists ill-advisedly brought in to attempt to replace Stiv continue to post, or attempt to post, anyway, flame war-esque comments about them in the comments section of the review. I suppose I shouldn’t bitch about the traffic, and probably should put 20 or 30 ads on that page to monetize it, but really, I just kind of want them all to take their little playground pissing matches elsewhere. The revival was a bad idea 6 years ago, it failed 6 years ago for a reason, and the people involved in it were disreputable. We get it. You can all go back to MySpace now and spend your time moving the burning skulls around your profiles, instead of bothering me about it.

As those of you who read my stuff regularly know, just about every initial opinion I have of an record is just that, initial. It’s very rare for me to fall in love (or in hate) with a record on first listen and stay that way for all time, and the stuff in the middle has a way of making its way out of it. With that in mind, a few quickies on records I haven’t listened to 100 times yet…

Moby
Wait For Me
Mute

I’ve given this one a few spins now, and I’ll probably give it a few more full ones over time. It starts off slow, but gains momentum as it goes along (it hits its stride for good at about the seventh track, “Mistake”, though the third track, “Shot In The Back Of The Head” is pretty solid as well), to the degree that mostly somber, introspective albums inspired by David Lynch speeches can gain momentum, anyway. There’s some listenable, likeable stuff on here, but it’s very “Play” meets Eno meets Badlamenti, for those who find cultural reference points helpful. In writing this review, I found them very unhelpful, because Moby’s a tough enough guy to listen to without comparing his new work against his older work, even when a lot of his work’s been radically different. So, you add that tough-to-shake critic’s/musician’s mindset and then throw in a few other unmistakable influences and it’s tough to listen to “Wait For Me” simply as music, as Moby apparently intended it. I think it’s worth giving a try, though, especially if the namedropping I did above sets off your Spider-Sense, and like I said, I’ll probably spend some more time with it soon.

Polly Scattergood
Polly Scattergood
Mute

Music made by a quirky, slightly damaged European waif for other quirky, slightly damaged European waifs and the people who love them. I’m so gonna get in trouble for saying that, but it’s true, and it’s not a dig! There are some fun hooks on this record (“Please Don’t Touch” being the standout track for me), the arrangements get pretty inventive, and listening to it makes me want to put on a pink dress and stand on a table, too! If this is your thing, go get this record!

AWESOME. Just…awesome. Even if you’re big on NERD CANON and hate J.J. Abrams, you’re basically a pud if you don’t enjoy this film. Go see it this weekend, help it make a fuckton of money, and hopefully they’ll put out 100 more like it.

Just don’t go see it here.

It was the first theater we went to, and the sound went tits up in the theater 15 minutes into the movie. So, an angry mob marched into the lobby, demanding refunds or a restart of the movie in another theater, totally reasonable in an opening night situation. Alas, the help were DICKS. They gave us a litany of excuses, most of which were bullshit and passes…not refunds, but passes…to a theater that’d already fucked an entire audience out of our opening night Star Trek, so we could all come back and spend money in their snack bar AGAIN. Inexcusably bad customer service there (not to mention that paying three employees an hour’s worth of overtime would beat the hell out of the hit they’re gonna take from lost customers and giving out about 120 passes, even after the revenue from the snack bar), and I’ll be returning there today to raise holy hell with the manager, ideally to get our money back. Even if I do, avoid avoid AVOID Mega Movies in East Brunswick, NJ. I have passes to the place, and could take friends to see the movie for free tonight (I plan on seeing it in the theater at least one more time), but I’m totally hesitant because I don’t want to give their snack bar any business or have them go through a shitty experience like the one my group and I had there last night.

Now, a lot of you may be wondering how I saw the movie, if we went to the last showing somewhere and got fucked. Our tale is just beginning, even though, for a lot of folks, the
last show of the night at that dive we went to first meant going home unhappy.

Me? I wasn’t having it. I wanted my fucking Star Trek, and as the man said, “I don’t believe in the no-win scenario.”

So, just for the sheer hell of it, we went to the AMC/Loew’s theater up the highway, to see if perhaps they’d take pity on our poor, nerdy selves and maybe open another screen on the basis of our sob story and our inherently useless passes (since we were broke from getting hosed by theater #1). First gatekeeper was the security guard patrolling the parking lot in a truck. We told him the deal, and he was nice enough not to chase us off, telling us “hey, give it a try”. We go to the door, flag down gatekeeper #2, an employee who tried shooing us away at first, but we got him to come out and talk. Our sad, pathetic story of woe basically went: “We’re nerds and your competitors fucked us out of Star Trek. Help.” He took pity on us and let us in, directing us to the guest services counter, where the manager was. We repeated our story to him, and while he, like theater #1, couldn’t open another screen and was on his last showing of the night, he sighed said “wait here”, and went into his office. He returned with 3 passes from his theater, which he totally wasn’t obligated to do, and above and beyond that, he said “there’s a Regal Cinemas about 5 miles from here with a Midnight showing. They honor our passes sometimes. Go there, talk to (name of manager here), and you might get in. Good luck!”

Wow.

So, we got in the car, hauled ass down the road to theater #3 (it was 12:03 AM when we left theater 2), ran up to the ticket booth, and explained our story to the kid working it. He got on the walkie-talkie to a manager, who came to see us and heard our story, at which point she got on her walkie-talkie and talked to the manager whose name we were given and said “OK, let them in.” We walked in just as the Star Trek logo hit the screen, a few minutes into the movie, but we’d seen up to that point before the sound went tits up at theater #1.

Double wow.

Beyond awesome work from all parties involved aside from theater #1.

The movie theater business in general gets a lot of much-deserved shit heaped in its direction these days, because of stuff like the crap Mega Movies pulled on us, but everyone at the AMC theater and the Regal theater deserve a huge round of applause for doing things the right way and doing us a solid. They had absolutely no obligation to help three people who showed up when they were trying to close up and bugged them (and despite the sound of things, I didn’t walk in there thinking the world owed me a living; we were out late anyway, and figured we’d do it on a lark to see if anyone would help us), and yet, they did, and in one case, they even sent us to another competitor in the hopes that we’d have a good moviegoing experience there and STILL keep them in mind the next time we wanted to see a movie. They turned what could’ve been a crappy night and one that would’ve further soured me on the entertainment industry (an industry that, make no mistake about it, is a mess) into a great one. Huge kudos for that, and if anyone higher up from either AMC or Regal is reading this, the people on staff at those theaters deserve a raise. Don’t give them any shit, as they just earned you guys 3 regular customers.

So, yeah, great night.

The movie was as good if not better than the payoff of actually getting to see it last night against all odds. Go see that motherfucker, and if you’re in central New Jersey, I recommend doing so either at the AMC Loews New Brunswick 18 or the Regal Cinemas Commerce Center 18 in North Brunswick, but not at Mega Movies in East Brunswick, NJ.

The good: the cast and the plot.

The bad: the dialogue.

People don’t talk like that.

More pacing and realism, less ambition and “cleverness”. It’s like that problem Kevin Smith, Warren Ellis and Joss Whedon all have, where every word out of the characters’ mouths has to be THE MOST PROFOUND, BRILLIANT AND FUNNY THING ANYONE HAS EVER FUCKING WRITTEN IN THE HISTORY OF CIVILIZATION, so that even when they hit on a good note, you’re too exhausted to appreciate it in between all of the other noise. You could throw Aaron Sorkin and whoever writes “Gilmore Girls” on that list, too, though their issues are more like “third or fourth generation rip of the pacing from Dragnet” issues. Whedon’s kind of in that boat too, only he’s throwing Jack Webb in a blender with Chris Claremont and calling it good.

Also: the soundtrack made my testicles shrink a little when it wasn’t Sonic Youth, The Kinks or Mott The Hoople playing.

Don’t get me wrong. I did think it was a decent movie. It just wasn’t a great movie, and it could’ve been, which frustrates me more than when a movie sucks sometimes. I’m willing to grant Diablo Cody a little slack, because she’s new at this, Oscar or no, but if I were going to give any advice to her from one schmuck who’s never written a screenplay in his life to an Oscar winner, I’d tell her to slow down and listen more to how people, even people like the characters in her movie, actually talk. Some of that’s in the direction too, but most of it was writing.

At least I’m not putting it out there in June this year.

To be frank, this was a pretty lean year for new music, especially new music by new artists. I looked, and didn’t find much. I wish I had, honestly, it’s not just me being a cranky old man who’s like “All that new shit sucks!”, and there are newer artists who are doing good things. They just released their albums in ’07. There also wasn’t very much in the way of compelling heavy metal this year, which is kind of a drag. When I have to even half-consider Metallica for a list like this, the metal community’s been slacking.

Anyway, onto the list, which is no particular order, with brief comments if I can get a handle on that whole brevity thing, man.

Guns N’ Roses-Chinese Democracy:

and not just because it finally came out. I’ve really enjoyed this album a bunch. It’s not a perfect record (there are a couple of songs on it that aren’t up to the standards of the others), and if you were looking for “Appetite For Destruction” or even “Use Your Illusion”, you’re gonna be disappointed. I think Axl and his new band really did terrific work here, on the whole, and it’s a terrific hard rock record in a world that’s short of them these days.

The Killers-Day And Age:

I like this one a bunch more than “Sam’s Town”, their last one. It’s more relaxed, and not suffering from “Holy shit, we have to knock everyone on their asses with our second album!” syndrome. If the last one turned you off, it’s safe to come back now.

Pinky Beecroft And The White Russians-Somethin’ Somewhere Better:

I’ve written about this one at length here, and it’s holding up very well. I really hope this record makes it out of Australia (and does well there too), because it’s really a worthwhile listen that’s grown on me with each listen. The songs land anywhere from clever to anthemic, and that’s a tough range to pull off. Good job, Pinky and co., and I look forward to hearing more.

Grace Jones-Hurricane:

everyone’s favorite really scary woman returns from a long absence, and releases the record Massive Attack didn’t get around to releasing this year. Good to have you back, Grace! Now do that crazy snarl for us!

The Cure-4:13 Dream:

here’s where I make all the sp00kypants types in the audience cry. I think this is a terrific record, and if you’re a Cure fan and you don’t, fuck you. No, it’s not “Disintegration Of Pornographic Bloodflowers in Seventeen Seconds”, but neither are about a dozen of their other albums. Musically, this is Robert Smith doing a pretty straightforward pop/rock record, and the band and production are totally on point. Lyrically, Robert’s still singing about being old, on drugs, and having one night stands, which he’s been doing for a ways now, but I don’t think anyone’s expecting him to suddenly start writing about social injustice or Jesus or anything. He writes what he knows. He’s in good voice, which is pretty remarkable considering how unorthodox his vocal style is, and considering that he is old, probably on drugs, and more than likely, having one night stands a lot. Really, I can’t find too much wrong with this album. People have given way less shit to artists who’ve put out bad late-period albums (I’m looking at you, Nick Cave), but because this is The Cure, and Robert has “Disintegration” to live up to, this record’s getting unfairly shit all over, despite being a really solid effort in my view. Give it a shot with an open mind, if you’ve been avoiding it because of all the whining people have done about it.

Portishead-Third:

I’ll confess, I haven’t listened to this one a lot in the second half of this year, but I enjoyed it plenty when it came out. It’s actually closer in style to Beth Gibbons’ solo record “Out Of Season” from a few years back than the first 2 Portishead records, but if you like Portishead, I think you’ll dig it.

The Dandy Warhols-Earth To The Dandy Warhols:

absolutely nothing new here, if you’ve heard older Dandy Warhols records, but they’re not as totally fucking stoned as they were last time they did a record, so this one’s pretty good. Consistently one of America’s best bands, but yeah, they were high last time, and they’re slightly less so here.

Rick Springfield-Venus In Overdrive:

God friggin’ bless Rick Springfield. That’s all I have to say here.

Coldplay-Viva La Vida or Death and All His Friends:

“You know how I know you’re gay?” Yep. Good record.

Amanda Palmer-Who Killed Amanda Palmer?:

Amanda’s really coming into her own as an artist. This is some good stuff, whether you’re a Dresden Dolls fan or not. I’m in the “sorta” column, personally, having enjoyed them a bunch live, but not being someone who listens to them casually all that often. This record, though, really well put together, an easy listen, and one of those albums where you look up from what you’re doing every so often and think “Wow.”

Honorable mention:

Tom Jones’ “24 Hours” is a bit uneven, but when it hits (like on the opening “I’m Alive” and “The Hitter”), it KILLS.

Enjoy, and feel free to leave your own picks/suggestions/opinions in the comments.

Reloaded the iPod with a bunch of new crap a few days ago, and was shuffling along tonight. Here’s what caught my ear:

The Pretenders-The Last Ride (from “Break Up The Concrete”): What I’ve noticed about what I’ve heard from this record so far is that Chrissie Hynde’s voice can still make what’s average music otherwise seem pretty memorable. She’s still got it, even if I’m not so sure about her band or her producer(s).

Tom Jones-I’m Alive (from “24 Hours”): Just. Fucking. Awesome. I hope the whole record’s this good, and I love this fuckin’ guy.

Jobriath-Gone Tomorrow and Inside (from “Jobriath” and “Creatures Of The Street”): I don’t know what this says about my finely tuned audiophile ears (or lack of therein), but these CD reissues, which finally came out Stateside a few months ago, sound gorgeous to me. It’s just a shame that the people who’d like Jobriath (and I’m one of them) are really just getting their first exposure to him now, 35 years-ish after the records first saw release and 25 years after he died more or less penniless, one of music’s first AIDS casualties. In his waning years, he took work as a cabaret singer and pianist, who, legend has it, would play just about any song you’d throw at him except for one of his own.

Grace Jones-Corporate Cannibal (from “Hurricane”): Man, I’m glad to have Grace back, being creepy. This one’s got kind of a Massive Attack/Recoil vibe to it, really big production to it. Me likey.

Foxboro Hot Tubs-She’s A Saint, Not A Celebrity (from “Stop Drop And Roll!!!”): I take a lot of shit for voicing this opinion whenever I do, but hot damn, those guys from Green Day (this is them under an assumed name, if you’re one of the three people on Earth who doesn’t know yet) write one hell of a pop song. Fun little number.

The Fireman-Sing The Changes (from “Electric Arguments”): It’s always weird when Paul McCartney puts out good music. This is one of those instances. The Fireman, as I’ve just come to find out, is a project he’s been doing for about 15 years on and off with Youth of Killing Joke and a lot of production/remixes fame, but this is the first of their 3 records to feature McCartney on any vocals. I’ve listened to a little of the record so far, and it ain’t bad, even if I’m still more of a Lennon guy.

As an aside, if I created an mp3 blog under an assumed name, threw AdSense on it and started posting things like this, I’d make my first million.

I’d write my review of the album, but Chuck Klosterman already wrote it for me.

Short review: Hey, wow, some half-assed band ripped off “Battery”. Oh, wait, it’s Metallica. Never mind.

Longer review: This one actually wouldn’t be so bad if there was a shred of focus to it. It’s not as completely off the rails as the “St. Anger” stuff, but you can tell that they’re just trying to show their audience (and maybe themselves) that they can still “thrash”, and in the process, they’re kind of ignoring the whole idea of there being a song somewhere in there, and they still look like a bunch of old men scrambling for their hard-on pills. Come to think of it (and pardon the pun there), “Cialis…it helped me avoid ‘My Apocalypse’, and it’ll help you avoid yours too!” has a hell of a ring to it. Someone get their management on the phone for me, we’ll make millions together.

Pinky Beecroft & The White Russians
Somethin’ Somewhere Better
Gigpiglet Recordings/Inertia

Some context: back in a past life, say about three years or more ago, Pinky Beecroft was the frontperson of the Australian…whatever the hell they were…band Machine Gun Fellatio. During this time period, I almost met up with him when they played New York (blast it, I got sick…), but managed to get an email interview out of him after the fact (Pinky currently has the dubious distinction of being the last person I interviewed for the site, at least until the next proper opportunity comes along…), and through the magic of all these friggin’ social networks we’re both on, I’ve kept in touch on and off since. Since then, MGF have broken up, Pinky’s gotten himself a new band called The White Russians, and I got offered a copy of his new CD by his publicist. “Fuck yeah”, I said, and here we are. To be fair about it, and it probably shows in that interview I did, while I liked and like what I’ve heard of MGF, I’ve never really had quality time to spend with the catalog, but given that for Pinky, this is a new band, a blank slate, a fresh start and (hopefully) a morning without a hangover, not having my opinion of “Somethin’ Somewhere Better” completely colored by what he used to do is probably a good thing. If you’re not familiar with Pinky or Machine Gun Fellatio, great, no worries. This is a perfect jumping on point, as it’s totally new shit.

Moving onto the matter at hand, “Somethin’ Somewhere Better” was recorded live in the studio, but you probably wouldn’t guess it by listening, unless you follow along with the lyrics and catch all the parts where Pinky changes them on the spot. And oh, what lyrics they are. They’re smart, biting, and they’ve got a feel and a voice all their own, telling a story of a whole lot of hard livin’, regret, longing, survival and even defiance, in the album-ending “My Haircut Will Come Back Around”, perhaps the most unlikely name ever for a defiant song. I’d quote some of the lyrics to you, but that would ruin the surprise, now, wouldn’t it? The closest, but not entirely accurate point of comparison I can come up with (remember, I said “a voice all their own”) is to ask you to imagine what would happen if you put Ray Davies, Robyn Hitchcock and Warren Zevon (especially evident on “Real Good Time”) in a roomful of life’s indulgences then said “Write, and pretend to be Australian while you do it.”

Stylistically, the White Russians (most prominently featuring Nick Stewart’s guitar work, though drummer Christian McBride, and bassist Ben T also do a solid job of supporting Pinky’s vocals and keys) run a gauntlet of sounds from moody noir (“Fabulous Driving” and an eerie country reading of Blondie’s “Call Me”) to garage psychedelia (“Sunflowers” and an uptempo new reading of MGF’s “Unsent Letter”) and back, with Pinky’s voice offering shades of a more diverse Ian Astbury (damn it to hell, I swore to myself that I was going to keep the namedropping to a minimum in this review and now I’ve named four people…serves me right for fucking swearing, I suppose…) throughout.

About the only criticism I can level on “Somethin’ Somewhere Better” is that, on first listen, “Someone For Everyone” and “Floor”, which hit about midway through the album, didn’t grab and hold my attention immediately (and it is tough to get people to the great home stretch of a record if the middle loses them), but on a repeat listening, the lyrics carried the songs where the music didn’t jump out immediately. It should be noted, of course, that my opinion of a record can evolve significantly in any number of directions over the course of many listens, and this is being written on my second go (trying to get this out on something resembling release day in Australia), so there may be more to hear in there than I’ve picked up so far. It will also probably help listeners more local to The White Russians that “Someone For Everyone” appears to be the lead single, so they’ll probably be more familiar from hearing it on JJJ (Australia’s big alternative music radio station), whereas I’m just some schmuck from New Jersey in the middle of an album.

Overall, I’d call “Somethin’ Somewhere Better” a solid first full outing from The White Russians with some genuinely great moments (“Fabulous Driving”, “My Haircut Will Come Back Around” and “Real Good Time” being my favorites), and hopefully an encouraging sign of things to come. If you’re a fan of the lyricists I mentioned above or a MGF legacy fan, this is definitely worth a listen. Pick it up wherever insanely expensive Australian import CDs are available, or, thankfully, on iTunes, Amazon and the like (it’s available on at least the first two already).

Short review: Wow. Some half-assed band ripped off “Fade To Black”. Oh, wait. It’s Metallica. Never mind.

Slightly longer review: in fairness, this is a lot better than anything on the last, oh, how many pieces of shit did they put out between “Load” and “St. Anger” again? 3? I forget. However, it’s painfully obvious that they’re pretending to be Metallica so we’ll like them again. It sounds like one of those bands of old guys who get back together and do a song that sounds like they’re trying to be who they were 15 to 20 years ago. Yes, exactly like the last 2 albums The Cult have put out, now that you mention it. Soon, both of these bands will be licensing their music to people who make hard-on pill commercials. Also, someone really needed to chaperone Lars while they were recording this, just to keep him from turning the drums up in the mix. Dude, we know you tuned your snare this time. We’re very proud of you. Can we hear the guitars and bass now, please?

(Part I here)

I know, I’m a day later than my initial goal of the end of June for this, but fuck it. Here’s what I’ve got:

Britney Spears-Blackout: considering that Britney probably wasn’t even conscious during the recording of this album, the emergence of “Blackout” as the best dance pop album since Kylie Minogue’s stellar “Fever” puts the producers up for the Nobel Prize, if you ask me. They managed to make a great dance record and encapsulate a nervous breakdown, which is nothing to sneeze at, trust me. There really isn’t a slow point on this record, which really should have borrowed the title “Music For Titty Bars” from Trent Reznor (who joked that he was going to call the follow-up to “The Downward Spiral” that after “Closer” became a titty bar staple). If you haven’t heard this yet, even if you’re not a fan, give it a listen. I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised.

Yeah Yeah Yeahs-Is Is EP: a really nice return to form here, as Karen, Nick and the other guy (heh) re-record some of their older unreleased pre-”Fever To Tell” songs with great results. If you liked the first record and the 2 EPs preceding it, but were left a little flat by “Show Your Bones” like I was, rejoice, as this is way more in line with what I (and a lot of people) liked about the Yeah Yeah Yeahs in the first place.

Melt-Banana-Bambi’s Dilemma: having lost track of Melt-Banana for a while (they do release records pretty often, but they get lost in my library sometimes), this one kept my iPod busy for most of last summer. They’ve evolved some from the Melt-Banana I last remember hearing, as there’s some more mainstream rock, punk rock and melody in what they do now (contrasted with earlier M-B, which elicited a lot of “How the hell are human beings doing that, and how the hell did they think of doing it in the first place?”), but they’ve lost absolutely none of their speed, power and energy in the process. Really cool album.

Robert Hazard-Troubadour: it’s been a long, long road for Philadelphia singer-songwriter Robert Hazard, who you’d probably best know as the writer of Cyndi Lauper’s hit “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun”, or from his own new wave classic “Escalator Of Life”, but on “Troubadour”, Hazard’s Rykodisc debut, Hazard continues a return to his folk roots that he started with 2004′s “The Seventh Lake” and “Blue Mountain” and hinted at on 1998′s superb “Howl”. This is an excellent, rich sounding, beautifully played roots rock record, evoking his idol Bob Dylan, John Fogerty’s solo material and interestingly (and perhaps in a nod to his past life in new wave), I hear a lot of Bryan Ferry in the vocals here, too. It’s great to hear a local hero like Hazard finding his voice and experiencing an artistic renaissance before our eyes as he has here.

Shriekback-Glory Bumps: if you’re aware that Shriekback are still releasing records, the appearance of this album on this list shouldn’t surprise you in the least, as I loved their last album, “Cormorant”, but if you’re not, get on the bus, man! Barry Andrews (who I’m beginning to think is a rhyming demon along the same lines of DC Comics’ Etrigan) and co. return with an even stronger showing here, just as lush, edgy and interesting a listen as “Cormorant”, but more accessible at the same time. The opening track, “Hooray For Everything”, is probably the best pop song from the past year or so that you haven’t heard, and other standouts include the Leonard Cohen-ish “Bittersweet”, the gorgeous “Amaryllis In The Sprawl” and the title track, with its Wolfgang Press-ish funk. Shriekback are another act on this list (and as you all know, I’m a sucker for this) who are on their second career, and I think I may like this one even more than I liked the first one.

The Lost Patrol-Launch And Landing: on this record, which turned out to be the swan song for vocalist Danielle Kimak Stauss (who’s moved onto…something or other…Danielle, give me a holler, it’s been ages!), atmospheric surf noir act The Lost Patrol really hit their stride, perfectly capturing the presence and mood of their live shows (one of which, I had the pleasure of co-headlining). Personal favorites from this record are “Venus Burlesque” and the opening “Sirens”. The Lost Patrol are carrying on with new singer Mollie Israel, and have begun recording with her already. Best of luck to them and to Danielle as well.

Celebration-The Modern Tribe: this is an awesome second outing from Baltimore’s innovative Celebration, featuring Katrina Ford, one of the most powerful, unique-sounding vocalists on the planet, and Sean Antanaitis, who’s one of the most amazing multi-instrumentalists I’ve ever seen perform (bass pedals, organ and guitar at the same time, people). Slightly more melodic than their self-titled debut (which may be a blessing to some of you, as I’ve heard people say that they had trouble connecting with the first album until they saw them live; eh, fuck ‘em, I loved the record), “The Modern Tribe” is nonetheless every bit as evocative and soulful, and the trademark tribalism of drummer Dave Bergander propels the entire recording. Highly recommended, and an even higher recommendation for seeing them live. If you get a chance, do it. They’re tremendous.

The Wildhearts-The Wildhearts: the Bay City Rollers go thermonuclear, get really pissed off, do a bunch of drugs and steal a bunch of Ramones, Cheap Trick and Motorhead records. That’s The Wildhearts in a nutshell, and this album’s no exception. The opening “Rooting For The Bad Guy” is an album in and of itself (I can’t remember the last time I’ve heard a band jam quite this hard and build tension so effectively by doing so on a record), and it just goes from there. I fucking hate myself for missing the show they did on the Rocks Off boat last year, but it’s probably just as well, as the boat probably would’ve capsized if there was one more person on it. This is a band who, when I saw them, blew out the PA’s power at Tribeca Rock Club 3 times, didn’t stop playing as it happened, and didn’t lose much volume in the process. If that gives you some idea of what you’re in for, and it sounds like a good time, get this record, because the record’s pretty representative of what they’re like live at this point. Fucking epic.

Honorable mention, because it’s “only” a single:

The Schema-Those Rules You Made: Rhodri fuckin’ Marsden, ladies and gentlemen. Rhodri fuckin’ Marsden. Our man at The Independent had a mission: to record, distribute and promote a single from his bedroom in a 30-day timeframe. To do this, he gave us the future yacht rock classic that is the title track, and the XTC-ish B-side “On Wheels”, and then to top it off, he made this brilliant video with Alex de Campi:

The video received over 276,000 views as of this writing, and Rhodri has made about £132 of his costs back from sales of the single, which means he’s about £735 in the hole still. However, there is hope! If you’re familiar with the concept of The Long Tail, here’s where you can become a part of it! “Those Rules You Made” is still available from iTunes, and directly from Rhodri himself. Go get you some!