Lost and Paramount

This album has brought me close to tears, multiple times. Not only is this “New Orleans Jazz” release a perfect standalone, it bridges the geographic gap between my previous chapter in Wisconsin, and my current stint in Los Angeles. James Booker and his iconic Junco Partner happened to be the last melody of any significance I had giddily immersed myself into days leading to my permanent departure from the rural Midwest. What turned out to be rather¬†serendipitous was that The Lost Paramount Tapes was, in fact, the first album of any format (compact disc) I was able to acquire upon my arrival to sunny, congested, southern California (September of 2003 with thanks to Grady’s Record Refuge in Ventura, CA). The first soundtrack to my new life has, today finally joined the fold. Thank you Vinyl Me, Please (a damn good record of the month club that I only recently discontinued) for seeing the unspoken greatness of this absolutely and profoundly perfect record, and for FINALLY providing it a much deserved, and greatly anticipated vinyl release. James Booker was most certainly a character, both sides of the coin, and his efforts on The Lost Paramount Tapes not only resonate on a deeply personal level, they make for one of the best (expletive) albums I’ve ever had the pleasure of spinning. Top 3 records of all time. Hands down.

No One Lives Exception to This Passing Grief

Though I’ve been in (clenched) possession of this amazing Lagwagon box set for 6 years (Putting Music in its Place… the 10 LP box set… you remember…), I hadn’t, until today, noticed this stellar insert for the double Hoss LP. The photo is of high enough quality for you to zoom in and have a laugh to the bottom left corner’s brief history of the album. The center band photo was used in 1994’s Fat Wreck Chords comp, Survival of the Fattest (I remember it from my high school days), but to my knowledge, the photos on either side are exclusive to this release. Anyway, I found this particular story to be quite humorous.

The Thing

love1995 called and they want their thing back. We’re so happy to finally own this amazing Love Jones album, their 2nd studio album (depending on who you ask). The Thing was, simply put, the thing back in the summer of 1995, and it continues to fill that cocktail lounge niche that never really seemed to go away… something I’m forever grateful for.

Coast to Coast

LoveShamefully, this is the first G. Love album I’ve ever owned on vinyl, and it arrived just two days ago. Having had his first three albums back in high school and early tech school, I found it necessary to track down these once owned compact discs in vinyl form. Coast to Coast Motel shines the light on a much more blues focused GL&SS, which, if you ask me, makes it their best, although not my favorite output. They’re all but dead to me now, but these first three albums are, without question, impactful strokes of genius.

Wait… What?!

55″ records are few and far between (there’s only one that I know of), and limited edition pink marble versions by one’s favorite band from say, 21 years ago, needs prominent due diligence. There is a record the size of a compact disc… it contains two songs, and it’s the newest addition to the family collection. Those aware, know the scarcity of this record. We were able to acquire her for a fairly reasonably sum. The Rocket Pack on the other hand…

MoA-M?

PurpleFuturistic, intergalactic surf rockers Man or Astro-Man? sally forth with another (inter) stellar collection of twangy tunes with their 5th studio album, 1995’s Intravenous Television Continuum. Also released on clear vinyl, this collection of far-out follies builds upon an already sizable and entertaining library of instrumental jams, yet remains fresh and engaging throughout its 17 audio explosions. Think Shadowy Men on a Shadowy Planet completely hammered and going through a rough break-up, or better yet, Lawndale trying to piss off everyone within a 3-mile radius. It’s raw. It’s elegant. It’s viciously delicious.