Stick What… Stick This!

Tool_StickerStickers promoting albums that showcase no signifying identification on their covers intrigue me a bit. I’m not entirely sure why, but it may have something to do with the idea that these stickers are meant to be discarded along with the plastic factory seal on which they live. With that humble thought in mind, stickers like this, found on Tool’s 2005 vinyl release of the 2001 album, Lateralus, would, by 2015, be all but extinct from the social conscious. It’s stupid, I know, but I treat these little additives as bonus time capsules that need preserving with the same amount of care as the records themselves. Just another thing to keep, save, hoard, and appreciate, I suppose.

“V” is for Vulgar

VAs 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.

Unofficially Tool

Tool_DiscIn 1996, Tool released Ænima, their 2nd and most prolific album to date. In (roughly) 2012, various colored, and reportedly unofficial reissues began hitting the record racks. With originals going for $200 – $400, logic told me that $30 for a double translucent orange, high quality bootleg (“unofficial,” likely not a bootleg) of Tool’s masterpiece wasn’t necessarily a bad idea, but that was back in 2012.

ToolThey go for close to $60 now (still not a bad deal), and the unofficial, roughly 2012 version came in the following, furious flavors: Orange (featured here), Red, Green, Blue, and Yellow Marble.

Some Gilded Treasures Should Remain Buried

Black n RedContained below is lost debris found amongst the sea of filth that is my PG work folder. I have no idea as to its context, nor what groovy slab inspired such nonsensical ramblings, but when you’re in a hurry, anything seems plausible. (If you need a music suggestion for today, check out Rocket from the Crypt’s Hot Charity, or Tool’s Ænima. I’ve been stuck under an angry cloud as of late, and it seems my trusty umbrella has abandoned my side.)

There is something to be said about someone who can go from Beethoven’s 8th Symphony, to Thunderheist’s Jerk It 12”, to Harry Nilsson’s Pandemonium Shadow Show, to Rudimentary Peni’s Cacophony without the shimmering blink of an eye. What that something is, may be lost on the likes of me, but sometimes the logic breaks down in an extremely logical way. Get what I’m throwing down? No? Neither do I. If that’s the case, then you and I should be friends, or at least pen pals (suggested by someone who has never owned a pen).

Dig what you dig, and don’t listen to anyone who thinks they know what they’re talking about because, realistically, nobody really does. Take me for example. I enjoy annoying my neighbors, so much so that I create “neighbor annoy” playlists for my mid-day weekend adventures. Are they annoyed as I feel they SHOULD be, probably not. But does it make me happy none-the-less? You bet your ass!

Value is an Ambiguous Term

I didn't know what to take a picture of, so here is a row of records.

I didn’t know what photo to include, so here is a random row of records.

I don’t often do this. In fact, I’ve only done it once… right now.

A friend (I use this term loosely… truthfully, he’s one of my favorites… man, I hope he’s not reading) hipped me to a great article on the frightening parallels of collecting vinyl discs to packs of sports cards. With a childhood packed (no pun intended) with countless sports-card-treasure-hunting-excavations (mainly $0.50 packs of 1990 Score baseball, in search of the coveted Bo Jackson football/baseball card), I immediately drew a stark conclusion to the article without even reading it. I did, however, eventually read the article, and I strongly, and with esteemed fervor, suggest you do the same.

I’m going to get preachy for a minute, which is usually reserved for those rare times when I’ve had a few too many single-malts and some random, nonsensical point unfolds from my feeble brain that I desperately yearn for people to listen to, instead of merely hear. Reservations are society’s great vocal silencers:

LISTEN TO YOUR RECORDS! If you collect comic books, READ YOUR COMIC BOOKS! If action figures are your bag, REMOVE THE TOYS FROM THEIR WORTHLESS PACKAGING AND PLAY WITH THEM! The notion of purchasing some inanimate object, with which to do nothing but hope it’ll yield you an early retirement is, quite honestly, asinine! It took me a lot longer than I’m willing to admit to come to this conclusion and let me tell you, actually listening to my records, AKA using a consumable item for its intended purpose, not to mention absorbing the joyous memories found in doing so, IS THE POINT! Life is entirely too short not to enjoy, or at least attempt to enjoy, each and every moment. That first pressing of Tool’s Ænima is not going to put your kid through college. Listen to it, and in doing so, remember that the purpose of the record isn’t to gaze greedily upon its rarity, but instead to enjoy the wealthy contents found within the grooves. Seems prudent enough, no?