Pop punk enthusiasts, and Solvang locals, Mad Caddies, overshadow their freshman effort (1997’s Quality Soft Core… many the adolescent soundtrack to my, quote, unquote, Wonder Years) with this, their 1998 follow-up, Duck and Cover.
Elegance and rage harmoniously combine within a cloud of aggravated rhyme. She’s a hell-of-a listen, and a necessity for anyone with a cross to bear.
Many thanks, Mad Caddies.
Lately, I’ve been starting to acquire “youthful albums” I’d previously owned on compact disc. The Offspring’s Smash, Blue Meanies’ Kiss Your Ass Goodbye!, and now, Green Day’s Dookie. Limited to 1000 on transparent green vinyl, and offered as a Hot Topic exclusive, I’d been hunting down this green vinyl copy for more than a few years. I haven’t given it a proper spin, yet, having just received it in the mail today, but I’m happy to welcome the ol’ guy into the “wall of fame.” One by one, I’ll eventually own my original CD collection on vinyl. Next up, I’m thinking, may be Cypress Hill’s Black Sunday.
Mr. Robert Goulet (pronounced gool-ay, and not, goal-ayt), wants you to have a fan-fuggin-tastic day after Thanksgiving… I mean, look at him! All seductive, and turkey-like, sitting on an elevated apparatus atop a floor of Reynolds wrap. We here at the Prudent Groove (along with the fanbase of Robert Goulet, and the Joan Wilder Book Club Members of Cartagena) wish you a happy, healthy weekend.
Sincerely yours…
PG
(Thanks to the SO for the title… 😉 ) Happy-ily (for those of you who are Vacant Lot fans) Thanksgiving!! The lady had to work today, so tomorrow we’ll be celebrating the Day of Thanks. Currently listening to Johnny Cash’s Greatest hits Volume 1, and yes, “house wives and little girls” aside, (Bruce McCulloch), I hope ever-body done had them-selves a damn-good day! (23.95 lbs this year, btw…) 
If there ever was a reason to believe, it would be based in the intellectual knowledge and overall creative fortitude of the exalted Tim Hardin. A Record Store Day exclusive back in 2013, and limited to 1000 copies, Reason to Believe – The Songs of Tim Hardin is a collection of elegant covers boasting a sad, yet respectful tribute to the self-proclaimed black sheep boy.
I’ll admit that I was a little underwhelmed on first spin, having been wet from the clouded storm of Tim Hardin songs performed by Tim Hardin, but once expectation fell asleep, these sumptuous covers stand their ground, and act as a reverent accompaniment to the vast Hardin library. It’s a pleasurable listen, and worthy of a proper, clear-headed spin.
The Ric Ocasek produced Weezer (the band’s third album, which is not to be confused with their first… or their sixth) was released in May of 2001, and sported three, summer singles (AKA the soundtrack to the 2001 summer) with Hash Pipe, Island in the Sun, and Photograph. I was living in Milwaukee at the time, and not that one tried, but one could not escape the constant one-two punch of Hash Pipe and Island in the Sun, the latter being featured in the Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen film, Holiday in the Sun. I feel I must add here, that this Holiday in the Sun knowledge is present only because I was working at a Hollywood Video at the time, and not a frequenter of anything Mary-Kate or Ashley Olsen.
The Green Album, as it is often referred, was a return to form (not only in name) of the blueprinted pop classic, 1994’s Weezer. Pinkerton, the band’s second album, still remains a personal fav, but for the summer of 2001, everyone was seeing green.
Released in June of 1989, Faith No More’s third studio album, The Real Thing, is chiefly known for its funk metal classic, Epic, as well as being the first album from the band to feature newly crowned frontman, Michael Allan Patton. Although not as complete a Patton-led Faith No More album as their 1992 follow-up, The Real Thing remains one of the most successful funk metal albums ever released.
“You want it all but you can’t have it,” exclaims Mr. Patton. Fans would only have to wait three years for the opportunity to have what they wanted: 1992’s Angel Dust.
Many thanks to the previous, and anonymous owner of my copy of the Sun Records released, The Million Dollar Quartet, for mummifying this 1986 magazine article, shining light upon, arguably, the most prolific, and storied combination of talented musicians the modern age has ever witnessed. Celebrated evening reading material, for sure. Perhaps I’ll transcribe it someday… perhaps.
If it’s uncouth to double up on back-to-back days worth of Dillinger Escape Patton (even though it’s still spinning, much to the chagrin of my patient and tolerating significant other), then let’s gaze upon the mystic wonders of this beautiful promotional sleevsert (sleeve + insert) touting the many achievements of Mr. Donovan Philips Leitch.
Question: What do you get when you mix deadlocked precision (executed perfectly within a tightly-wound hardcore package) and the vocal talents of the guy recently deemed the greatest living singer of all time? Answer: Irony Is a Dead Scene.
Although not casual listening material for that Sunday drive with the kids, The Dillinger Escape Plan with Mike Patton assassinate any and every breathing organism in their vigorous wake over these four fits of ferocious fury. What’s disappointing, however, is the unfortunate length of this EP. Clocking in at only 18 minutes, Irony Is a Dead Scene leaves the listener sprawled out on the floor, desperately pleading for more. This is a perfect album from every approachable angle.
A compilation album that works just as thoroughly as a collection of random, previously released songs from any proper album previously released, Creedence Country finds John and Tom Fogerty, Stu Cook, and Doug Clifford in top-notch form as they kiss the southern sun of classic, southern-rock-n-roll. If you’re in the mood for a new Creedence album of songs you already know and love, consider Creedence Country. I have, and my recent commutes to work in LA traffic couldn’t be more enjoyable.
For J. R. Cash’s third studio album, 1958’s The Fabulous Johnny Cash, the legendary man in black, or The Undertaker, as he was jokingly nicknamed, took a staggering leap up the distribution ladder and landed a contract with acclaimed Columbia Records, a label he’d stay with until moving to Mercury Records in 1985. It should be noted that J. R.’s stint with Sun Records, his first label, is the favored batch of rural tunes by yours truly. Be it either the simplistic and underproduced approach, or the documentation of a storied artist making his first marks, I for one just can’t get enough of that radiant, Sun sound.
Mr. Cash released two singles from TFJC. Frankie’s Man, Johnny and Don’t Take Your Guns to Town, the latter proving to be one of his biggest, early successes. It’s painfully obvious to mention that J. R. Cash was as unstoppable as Old 97 for Columbia, churning out hit after record breaking hit, a three decades long merger that proved, what I assume, immensely lucrative for both parties.
This copy was a thrift store find about a decade back, and was apparently pre-owned by a Pat Johnson from 655 Park Ave in Port Hueneme, CA. I venture to think, since 3/8/62 until the day it was offered to an Oxnard, CA second hand store, that Pat cherished The Fabulous Johnny Cash almost as much as I do.
Mr. Chub Check was, single-handedly and without question, the Tycoon of Twist. In the wee years before the British invasion, kids of all ages, and of all nationalities, wickedly wiggled and provocatively pranced to the world’s first dance craze. It was a short-lived event, charting on Billboard from ’59 with Hank Ballard and The Midnighters’ The Twist, and ending with Twist and Shout in ’64 by The Beatles (a cover of the 1961 single by The Top Notes). A total of 19 twist-influenced (twinfluenced?) tunes hit Billboard between these six years, but no one artist was more prolific and prominent than Ernest Evans (aka Chubby Checker).
The Mind is A Terrible Thing to Taste… it’s not like chilled monkey brain, toast, or a pear. What you’re looking at are Brazilian and US pressings of Ministry’s 1989 masterpiece. Exactly half the contents of 1990’s live effort, In Case You Didn’t Feel Like Showing Up (Live), Mind is home to some of Ministry’s most prolific efforts: Breathe, Burning Inside, So What, and the resounding, Thieves. Food for thought… give Ministry a shot.
Had the pleasure of attending this show last night. It was pleasant. Many thanks to Har Mar and The Pizza Underground for an exciting evening at the El Rey.
As a casual Tool fan, I find Puscifer, Maynard James Keenan’s other side project to be the following: decent, a good listen, but certainly not groundbreaking. I’d owned this album for nearly 7 years and just today got around to giving it a spin. I can’t put my finger on the cause of my extreme hesitation, but today was a good day for “V” is for Vagina.
I’ll certainly need to give it a few more spins, and may even contemplate digitizing, but for now I give it a solid C+ / B-. Again, not bad, by any stretch, it’s just missing that sprinkle of fascination present with early Tool releases.
Laibach brings such a cynical smile to my face, I border on fits of maniacal laughter. Life is Life is a classic, and comical oppressionist Industrial hymn, and is the perfect relief for the Friday afternoon doldrums. To be completely honest, I’m not 100% sure that Laibach’s brand of persecution theme music is to be taken sincerely. By themselves, Laibach songs can raise the weary eyebrow of the unsuspecting ear, but when coupled with a blatant, over the top video (such as Life is Life, or the Beatles cover, Across the Universe), one can’t help but break out in a rash of uncontrollable snickers.
If you can get past the repetitious hammering and deep-throated persecution, Laibach is comedy gold, with a brainwashing beat. This, and all Laibach comes HIGHLY recommended by the PG.
Nothing major tonight, except for a recent 78 find, at a reasonable $1, from the local brick and mortar down the street. Like everything that enters, at least one proper spin is required. This guy here is first in line for this weekend’s graduation-like introduction. Les Paul and Mary Ford. Please and thank you.
A lot of my idiot friends dog Roger Moore as James Bond (I’m looking in your direction, Hardwick), but I find him to be an adequate agent of the secret nature. 1977’s The Spy Who Loved Me, and its motion picture soundtrack, is a fitting, and worthwhile example of classic, James Bond goodness. Take that, Brosnan.
I’m not sure The Rocking Horse Players and Orchestra’s rendition of Sergei Prokofiev’s Peter and the Wolf necessitates a slot in the collection, yet, there it rests, unplayed, and unloved. Perhaps it should have been passed up (by me at some random secondhand store of yesteryear) so that some modern-day-junior-vinyl-collector could begin his or her little record collection of favorite children stories. I mean, this isn’t a bad place to start given that it also contains The Shoemaker and the Elves, The Golden Goose, and Ozzie the Ostrich, but for someone in their mid-thirties, the appetite for Peter and his friend is all but blown away.
The Prudent Groove 