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Still working on my stupid "R is for Raging Slab" entry... I'm considering changing my approach.

Not much else to report. It's been totally dead here in New York! Dying for baseball to start so there's something to be excited about sportswise.

In the meantime, I sure am enjoying the new Cosell book. Unbelievable guy. The image of Howard dragging a 50-pound tape recorder around scrounging up interviews is pretty great. That and puking all over Keith Jackson's pants in the MNF booth.

Too tired to chew. G'night.

Q is for Quarterflash

Yes I own this on CD.

The story of Quarterflash is one of the strangest and most tragic in rock history.  The Portland, OR outfit was big locally in the late 70s under their original Seafood Mama moniker, and became Quarterflash in 1980.  Led by Rindy Ross (vocals, saxophone) and her husband, Marv (guitar), the band went nationwide with a newly recorded version of "Harden My Heart" (a Seafood Mama staple) and their self-titled LP on Geffen.  "Heart" went to #8, the follow-up "Find Another Fool" hit #16, and the group's alliteration-fueled fortunes seemed destined for the top of the charts.

Unfortunately, this #1 came with a bullet.  Rindy Ross was mysteriously found dead in the garage of her band's road manager and accountant, Anthony Muskie.  No murder weapon was ever recovered, although stories swirled involving Muskie and husband Marv Ross as co-conspirators.  Her 1982 slaying remains unsolved.

Lost in the tragedy were the master tapes of Quarterflash's successor, which has languished in legal limbo for almost thirty years.  Next to nothing is known about the double album Coho (alternately titled "Kohoe"), as the surviving Ross has possession of the only known session recordings.  Anecdotal reports generally describe the record as brilliant, and similar to Tusk in style and sound.  The reformed touring version of Quarterflash, which features replacement singer and sax player Melinda Ross (who married Marv Ross in 1985), has maintained marginal success since the scandal and has yet to perform a single track from the Coho sessions.

OK, this story is complete bullshit... but I did in fact have a crazy dream about Quarterflash once.  I really do like their first record, but I guess it ends there.

So I've been using a fucking cane for over a month now.  After a few awkward days with the cane, I formed the following thoughts:

1) I'm gonna lose this thing in no time.  I'm terrible with umbrellas, something like -73 all time.  You'd think a cane would be really easy to just prop up when you're not using it, but it ain't.  They fall on the subway all the time, skitter down the aisle on the bus, and are absolute nightmares in public rest rooms.  Plus my kids love to run around the house with it.
2) I'm now walking the streets of New York with a weapon at all times.  My cane's lightweight, but I'm pretty sure I could fuck up a smartmouth kid or a slenderly built woman with it.  At worst, I can do some real damage to someone's windpipe before I'm arrested or beaten to a pulp.
3) This thing's really gonna get dirty.  It's being literally dragged through the streets of a filthy city.  Am I supposed to clean it when I get home?  Run it under a hose?  Nobody tells you things like this when you become disabled.

Oh yeah, any ideas about feeling sort of cool in an aristocratic kind of way are total bullshit.  Anyone that uses a cane without a real reason is an idiot, and that goes for Mr. Peanut, Pete Nice, and all the Droogs.

You'd have to be insane to not love the insanely great tapes of DJ Q-Bert.  I have the Demolition Pumpkin Squeeze Music one on CD, and I do in fact love it.

I'm not quite as crazy about Quasimodo, although I really do like the tracks (and Madlib, etc.).  I can't stand the vocals, which is probably why I strongly prefer the instrumental version of The Unseen.

I love the music and vocals of Quasi, who I know I saw at Brownie's and probably a few other places I can't remember.  A truly unique band.  Unfortunately, my advance copy of Featuring "Birds" has some kind of dark epoxy-like resin stuck to the bottom of it-- four of its tracks were deemed unimportable by iTunes.  Making matters worse, the song "Birds" was one of the damaged tracks, so I guess the whole concept of the album is shot.

I rarely listen to my Queens of the Stone Age CDs, and I can't seem to find any of my Queen CDs.  I probably had three, and I sure did like them.  Please advise if you borrowed or bought any Queen CDs from me.

Oh yeah, I once won a bet with a 13-year-old kid by successfully whistling the bridge to "Oochie Wally" by QB's Finest.  I would probably be in jail if I actually recited the lyrics to the child, but whistling was just fine.

P is for Police

Pretty pathetic, huh?  My newfound free time to work on stuff I haven't had time for, like my blog doesn't quite seem to be happening.  I guess the holidays, being a little sick, etc. has made a nice excuse for not doing jack shit on this self-aggrandizing CD collection idea.  I humbly beg your forgiveness and ask to you screw yourself at the same time.

Imagine my delight when Pansy Division's music pops up as I'm flipping through the Ps!  My old band had the privilege of playing with these guys, who apparently were/are mutual fans... One of those "somebody out there actually likes us" moments for a touring band starting to lose their minds on the road.

Remember Paris?  No, the rapper you eediot!  I loved driving around in my van listening to the 12" mixes of "The Days of Old" back in the old days, like any white guy would.  I guess being a big fan of Paris instrumental tracks doesn't exactly put me on any FBI lists, but damn if I won't slam "Bush Killa" through my speakers without warning.  I'll do it!!!

An inordinate amount of space on my hard drive seems to be expended on a dude named Anders Parker, who I may or may not have played drums with at some point.  If you're reading this and have somehow never listened to his music, by all means do so (and let me know how you possibly found this blog!).  If you're reading this and are familiar with the guy, check out a piece of his music you don't usually listen to and remember how good it is.  If you're not reading this and are a fan of his music, click here.

I was going to make a stupid joke involving Graham Parker and Charlie Parker, but decided against it.

Here's a challenge for all you readers: acquire the first six or seven Alan Parsons records (just don't go past Ammonia Avenue, whatever you do), listen to each a few times, and create a 60-minute mix of the very best stuff and mail it to me.  This isn't a joke!  I think anyone that does this can generate a collection superior than the ones out there now, and I just don't have time to do it.  There lots of great stuff to find!

Pavement had already peaked by the time S & E came out, and were long gone for Crooked Rain.  Pearl Jam, on the other hand, have released over 200 records since Ten.

I used to take Ambien and listen to Penguin Café Orchestra, and then groove to the Peshay CD.  No really.

I'm missing at least eight Pink Floyd titles on disc: Saucerful..., More, Meddle, Ummagumma, Animals, WYWH, and a bunch of other ones.  Was I really so broke/stupid/drunk/cool in the 90s that I traded all these in for an 18-pack of Stroh's?

So it's pretty cool that the Police made just five proper records and got the hell out, huh?  I don't really care much about Outlandos, but I think Regatta de Blanc (The White Boat) kicks some ass.  Stewart Copeland is a phenomenally underrated drummer.  Sure, his name comes up any time a bunch of dorks start talking about great drummers, but have you really listened to him?!  A true five-tool banger: chops, power, innovation, sound, and attitude.  Any three tracks from Zenyatta Mondatta will cover the spread.

But my favorite is easily Ghost in the Machine.  They clearly lost their minds on this one... Andy Summers was cozying up to Fripp in his spare time and Sting was about five French phrases away from exploding into pretentious oblivion (or oblivious pretension).  Ghost is part of the extraordinary Class of 1981, along with Abacab, Discipline, and Moving Pictures.  By the power vested in me by the region of Long Island, I now declare you professors of Prog-Rock-Pop... ["Long Distance Runaround" plays as the graduates file out of the auditorium]

You know, Robert Plant wasn't too far behind the aforementioned geniuses.  Pictures at Eleven was a bit cloddish, I suppose (with the exception of B-side "Far Post" LOVE IT!!!), but Principle of Moments is a true accomplishment.  Percy manages to create an ambient rock album devoid of any life whatsoever.  It's New Order to Joy Division's Zeppelin.

I have DJ Premier filed under P because it's asinine to have all these "DJ" artists all lined up like a bunch of idiots.  Also because he's probably the best working DJ out there.

I put "2000 Miles" on a Christmas mix I made last month, and reminded myself just how awesome the Pretenders used to be.  By the time I actually caught them live they had dudes with freaking dreadlocks in the band.  I guess it was either that or more heroin addicts?  Anyway, first record is pure genius, second is half genius and a member of the "We guarantee you'll skip the first song when it's convenient" club, and the third is really good but sort of empty and sad at the same time.

Do I really have to explain my relationship with Prince?  OK, everything's perfect until Lovesexy and after that I refuse to even discuss it.

These Ps just never end!  I already discussed Nation of Millions in my treatment of the Cs, but I'll add that Public Enemy means of heckuva lot to me.  When Chuck D made eye contact with me and said "Alright..." as I was dragged around the side of the stage and dumped out the back of the Civic Center like Anthrax's empty pizza box, I knew I'd sleep well for years to come.

O is for Outkast

The Os ain't exactly a treasure trove of great tunes, but we do have our moments here.  Outkast is one of the more obvious ones, of course.

Pick five people at random from a crowd of people and ask each of them what their favorite Outkast record is, and you're likely to get five different responses.  I've never actually tried this, but I'm pretty sure it would happen.  Maybe the hipsters pick ATLiens, the hardcore pick Southernplayalisticadillacmuzik, critics love Aquemini, but I just can't ignore Stankonia.  Sure, the critics love Stankonia too, but let's be honest here: it's a goddamn masterpiece.  Period.


Ripping up her record contract

Return to the 36 Chambers is a masterpiece too, even if it got overshadowed by the brilliance of Cuban Linx, Liquid Swords, and whatever your favorite Ghostface record is.  Flip on the ODB when you're lazy kind of stoned, and you won't argue much.

Boy do I love Roy Orbison!  I'd like to surgically remove the Travelling Wilburys from our cultural existence, but that's not his fault.  It's also not his fault that his divider card read "Roy Oribson" at the record store I worked at for years (my co-favorite along with "Mary J Bilge").

Let's pay tribute to Onyx, shall we?  I have countless hazy but wonderful memories of throwing "Slam" on and watching everyone bounce up and down like morons, splashing malt liquor all over whoever's house I was in.  I also made the mistake of cueing up "Blac Vagina Finda" at a few parties, resulting in my immediate ejection.

Who remembers Sinéad O'Connor?!!  Talk about here one day gone five years later... anyone out there own a copy of 2003's She Who Dwells in the Secret Place of the Most High Shall Abide Under the Shadow of the Almighty?  I saw ol' cueball at Jones Beach way back, and she really knew how to piss off a crowd.  Cursed like a fuckin' sailor, too.

Speaking of women named O'Connor with ridiculously great voices, I hope you all check out or have already checked out Jennifer O'Connor's stuff.  The Color and the Light's my favorite, but don't let me change your mind about anything.  JOC's a real good person too.

Anyone know what happened my Orb CDs?











Lulu

Didn't they know they'd stain the carpet?

A friend of mine recently came uptown to visit me and my kids and gave me a burned copy of Lulu, the collaboration between Lou Reed and Metallica. I'm pretty sure there are hundreds of burned Lulu CDs in fireplaces and incinerators across the country, but this one was actually meant to be listened to. It was also the only way in hell that I was going to devote any measure of time whatsoever to this ill-conceived, God-forsaken hunk of baloney.

This morning I boarded an M5 bus with about four passengers on it (no, this is not a math problem) and headed down RSD to go see the new Herzog documentary. Seeing as I was in a rather morbid mood, I decided to give Lulu a try at full volume. Turns out that the opening track "Brandenburg Gate" is really fucking good. In fact, I think it's a masterpiece. I've only listened to it twice, but you can quote me on this one.

Surely Lee's putting us on here, or setting us up for some kind of cruel joke... Right?

Nope, it really is brilliant. The rest of the record is absolute horseshit, which I'll get into a bit later. But "Brandenburg Gate" is seriously as good a track as this cursed partnership could conceivably produce. Let's pretend (wish?) we've never heard the record before, and list all the possible ways Lulu could have turned out:
1) Straight up Metallica riffs with Lou jive-talking semi-randomly on top. In other words, they each do their normal thing. [this is pretty much what the record is]
2) Atmospheric, highbrow artsy shit with occasional Reed-prose and metal/feedback bursts. Or, Metallica gets outside their box and Lou does his thing. [they do this on the record a bit as well]
3) Metallica Machine Music: Lou talks the Four Horsemen into an instrumental noise record, and immediately disowns and trashes the project upon its release, resulting in lengthy lawsuits by Metallica and Reed moving to Indonesia. [unfortunately not the case]
4) The five dudes just plug in and plow through a Ragged Glory-style sludge-cycle, bringing their individual strengths to the table but smashing their own tried & tired templates in the process. ["Brandenburg Gate"]

I have absolutely no idea what Lulu is supposed to be about (sounds like it has something to do with a girl, who might be a slut or possibly a masochist), so I don't really care about the lyrics a whole lot. I will say that Lou, in classic form, manages to outdo any parody/imitation of himself that anyone might throw at him. Ever think you're hilariously clever by pretending to be Lou Reed singing songs by other artists? Give it up, homeboy. Leatherface himself tops all with his "You are my Goliath... you are my Goliath" mantra on "Mistress Dread."

I'm not going to waste anyone's time ripping apart tracks 2 through 10 on Lulu, because any idiot with two ear canals can do it themselves. I'm just overjoyed that at the very least, if only for 4 minutes and 19 seconds, these numbskulls came up with something really exciting. Hey, maybe Lulu will spawn more absurd "mash-downs" in the near future? How about Randy Newman and King Crimson with their new release, Hollywood Serpent? Have you heard the new Al Jarreau & Yo La Tengo collaboration on Matador Records? I think it's called There Is A Street And Its Name Is Bop.

N is for Nas

Tough to talk about the N section of my music collection without Nas coming up.  He's easily got the most pieces, although Naughty By Nature's pretty damn close (how the hell did that happen?).  No, I don't own the Nirvana box set.

Illmatic put Nas in the hip-hop pantheon for life, and rightfully so.  There were plenty of great rap records in the 90s that were more daring, more groundbreaking, or just more plain old fun, but Illmatic's the critical purist's dream.  Smart, street, lean, and great fucking beats.

Max Schreck puttin' heads to bed.

No surprise that "Dr. Knockboots" never made another perfect record again.  One could make a great mix of highlights from the rest of his career (and more than one of these exist), but that's about it. Maybe he'll be the Dallas Braden of rap... well, probably not.

Much more interesting to imagine the future Nas nicknames.  Ever since Nastradamus dropped (I think I dropped mine in the garbage once), me and my boy Grit (keep ya head up, kid!) have been passing moniker-morphs back'n forth:

Nasferatu - Vampires are still trending, right?  This could be dope!  My long fingernails scratching in the night... I ain't a snitch but yo my bitches I might bite...  Some creepy Gravediggaz-style beats and this thing's on, although we just missed Halloween.

NasDAQ  "Toolz Of Tha Trade" - Might be a little tricky, but maybe some sort of anti-OccupyWallStreet angle?

Da Planet UraNas - A trip through the solar system, perhaps a different producer for each planet?

Goin' BanaNas - Full-on rap comedy album; could probably resurrect a few careers with this one, but likely to end his own.

Entre Nas - All French production team, maybe a lounge-electronica kind of vibe?  Guest spot by Wyclef?  Anybody still reading?

I always considered myself a fan of Napalm Death, but I can't find a single one of their recordings in my home.  I think this officially makes me a poser.

I could write for hours about N*E*R*D, but I have nowhere near the amount of drugs this would require.  Same goes for Neu!, Neurosis, and New Order.

Oh yeah, Nirvana.  Am I the only one that listens to Nevermind and wishes it sounded like In Utero, and then listens to In Utero and wishes the songs were as good as Nevermind?

The Nuggets box rules.  Those who say, "Yeah, but I'm just not into that kind of stuff..." should stand facing a mirror with their entire record collection behind them and say, "I guess I'm just not into rock and roll."

In Defense of Phil Collins

What were they doing?

At some point in the 1980s, the words Phil Collins became interchangeable with sellout, lame, bad, or simply uncool. I'm here to argue that there was actually a time when Phil Collins might have been the coolest guy in the business.

I'd say things started going sour for Phil in 1986 (Invisible Touch, "Land of Confusion" video) or possibly late 1985 ("Separate Lives" and general fallout from No Jacket Required). Of course, I mean artistically sour; PC's bank was as sweet as dew on the vine at this point. He was turning mere over-exposure into hyper-exposure, and alienating even his ficklest fans. By the end of the decade, we were left convincing ourselves that drivel like "Throwing It All Away" and "One More Night" wasn't all that bad.

Friends, it wasn't always this way. Phil was a world class banger through the entire early 70s, as any objective listen to Nursery Cryme, Selling England... or Lamb will verify. That's not really news to the casual music fan... most people would admit, "Yeah, I know his drums were pretty good on the Peter Gabriel Genesis stuff, but..."

Hold it right there. The drums on Trick of the Tail and W & W are awesome, so it had nothing to do with Gabriel's hip factor. In fact, Phil already had a resumé that was way cooler than PG could even dream of until he hooked up with Fripp. Let's look at some of Phil's extracurricular work so far:

Eno's Taking Tiger Mountain (By Strategy), Another Green World, Before and After Science: PC does a nice job on Tiger Mountain, but positively kills it on Green World and BAAS. Those records aren't the same without him.

Brand X: Take it or leave it, but pretty awesome to have a legitimate experimental jazz fusion outfit on the side of your arena-level prog rock band. Great drums, and a few make-you-puke-up-your-tussin-it's-so-nuts tracks give Brand X the stamp of approval.

Not bad, eh? Phil kept in touch with his UK art-rock pals right into the early 80s, and hit the session jackpot with his work on his old mate's Peter Gabriel record in 1980. PG ironically gave birth to the "Phil Collins drum sound" and countless radio hours over the decade. The sound also opened the gate (ugh!) for Phil's demise, as his "big" period ("In the Air Tonight," "I Don't Care Anymore," Something's Going On, Behind the Sun, Pictures at Eleven, "Easy Lover" etc.) made good songs great and made bad songs really fucking annoying.

Phil was the undisputed king of the parking lot from '81 to '83, and here's why:
Face Value - the quintessential drummer does it all, bad marriage solo record.
Abacab - one of the most underrated records of the 1980s, co-defines prog-pop with Ghost in the Machine and Moving Pictures.
Hello, I Must Be Going! - even darker than Face Value, and is 50% perfect (not bad!).
Pictures At Eleven - "Far Post." Nuff said.
"I Know There's Something Going On" - Solidifies the "paranoid drum song" genre.
Three Sides Live - "Paperlate" b/w "You Might Recall" might be the apex of Genesis/Phil Collins, if not my own listening lifetime.
Principle of Moments - some genius is sampling "In The Mood" as we speak...
and, um, he also played on an Al Di Meola record in '83 and the Genesis album with "That's All," which I don't really want to talk about.

Hey, maybe the guy just got tired? I sang "Against All Odds" once at Winnie's and nearly passed out, so imagine how Phil musta felt! Oh yeah, he also played at Philly Live Aid and Wembley Live Aid (with Zeppelin!) without the use of a teleporter. Overexposed much?

I won't defend anything after 1985, so don't ask me to (with the possible exception of Stephen Bishop's horrendous Bowling in Paris record, which I'll gladly spin at any party I'm invited to).

This man is a billionaire.

M is for Metallica

M's the first big section I've had so far, weighing in at well over 200 discs. Had some fun looking through my Mahavishnu sides (haven't listened much), and was a bit surprised at how often Bill Laswell's name comes up in other M titles. Nothing too exciting until I hit Kill 'Em All.

Pretty weird that talking about Metallica these days is a lot like talking about The Who or Pink Floyd. Maybe you've forgotten the first time you heard them, which probably means you weren't listening in the first place. Maybe you got sick of their bullshit and stopped caring, or just grew up and got a job. Allow me to refresh your memory.

Metallica were the best band in the world for damn near ten years. They did everything to the nth degree: played louder, faster, longer, were smarter, cooler, got more drunk, and generally beat the pants off every known band on the planet from 1982 to 1989. If they had recorded ...And Justice For All with the "not very" production of $5.98 E.P. they might have created the greatest hard rock album of all time. Metallica.

That said, I'm not sure what to think about the Lou Reed/Metallica collaboration, Lulu. I absolutely love it, but I intend to never hear a single note. However, I'm all in on the tour! Already hearing rumors of a "Sword of Damocles"/"Leper Messiah" medley encore, and possibly a guest appearance by Fernando Saunders on "Orion"... but these are just internet stories.

Lessee... how about a list of outstanding M records?
The Charm of the Highway Strip, Breaking Atoms, Master of Puppets, Bright Size Life, Operation: Doomsday, Mingus Ah Um, Double Nickels on the Dime, "Shook Ones Part II", Astral Weeks, Orgasmatron, Glider EP.
Personal faves:
The Pipes of Pan at Jajouka, A, Fear and Whiskey, Cargo, Blackout!, Special Herbs Vol. 7 & 8, The Introduction, "Universal Magnetic" b/w "If You Can Huh! (You Can Hear).

Sorry, still recovering from a couple of months of physical agony. I'll get some spunk back real soon.

I'm back!!!

[sound of tree falling in unpopulated area]

L is for Los Lobos

What?!!! How could L possibly be for anything other than Led Zeppelin?!!!

Hey, Zeppelin is obviously the greatest rock band of all time. No arguments there. But when I heard the theme from the Disney Jr. program Handy Manny the other day, I remembered just how criminally underappreciated Los Lobos have been for the last few decades.

I'm not even sure these guys are even "that band that did 'La Bamba'" any more... they might have disappeared from the general consciousness completely. I once drunkenly called The Wolves the "quintessential American band of our generation" (God, I used to love saying shit like that!). I mean, they had their paws (get it?) in the L.A. punk scene, roots rock, trad/Chicano, country, straight-up songwriting, textural production, you name it! These guys could, and did do anything and everything.

Up until the early '90s (I say "up until" because they were a full-fledged working and recording band in the fucking seventies!) it looked like LL might end up in the "great band, good records" file. The Neighborhood was pretty great, but Kiko is absolutely brilliant. You'd be hard-pressed to find a more rock solid record (minimum 50 min.) in the decade. No fat at all on this fucker. At least four songs can bring a grown man to tears, and a few might even inspire you to actually make something out of your life. "Short Side of Nothing" is the one of the greatest songs about the American experience, fuck that, the human experience ever written.

Don't get me wrong here. Their first couple of records (and EP) are great, and might actually document their live sound even better than their production-oriented stuff. But the fact that they took a chance and made Kiko, Latin Playboys (sort of), and Colossal Head was extraordinary. Tripping out to the beautiful "Ten Believers" and then getting your ass destroyed by "Mas y Mas" is the musical equivalent of jumping out of a jacuzzi and into the Arctic Ocean. No, they're not even on the same record, but I used to love doing this anyway.

Me and my music buddies (all huge fans) went to see Los Lobos play at some damn amusement park in Rhode Island right after Kiko came out. We were fucking corndogs-- smoking bad weed on a roller coaster, chugging big cans of beer, generally having fun. The band kicked ass, and we got so excited that we decided to "sneak backstage" after the show. We basically just walked into their dressing area, sat down, and started drinking their beer and eating their food. I think someone from the club followed us and was waved off by one of the band members, for reasons I still can't comprehend. Maybe we rattled off enough trivia about their discography to stay? Maybe they wanted to hear more about our band (doubt it!)? Maybe they were just plain bored (yep).

Regardless, we hung out with Los Lobos for what seemed like hours, and managed to keep what I remember to be actual conversations with these fine gentlemen. Steve Berlin was talking about early '80s Los Angeles, Louie Perez revealed recording secrets involving Pete Thomas, Conrad Lozano gave some tax advice (I'm not kidding!)... they really seemed comfortable shooting the shit with a bunch of drunken strangers. The only guy that wasn't interested at all was Cesar Rosas-- he had his headphones on for the entire ordeal.

Eventually it was my turn to sit alone with David Hidalgo, which was probably the most exciting "celebrity experience" I've ever had. This guy is one of the best songwriters, vocalists, and guitarists I've ever heard. Period. He sat there and listened, then looked me in the eye and said, "Just play music." Fucking amazing.

In other Mexican-American music news, "Low Rider Madness" by A Lighter Shade of Brown was my very favorite song for a few months. That was a weird period for me.

Let's salute Last Exit, Large Professor, Labradford, the Libertines, Lighting Bolt, Suede, Love, Nick Lowe, and Skynyrd while we're at it. And Led Zeppelin, who probably wouldn't have let me and my friends hang out with them backstage and drink their beer and eat their sandwiches.