I’m tired… I’m salty… (KITH), but seriously, I’m giving up on the day and saying, hey, let’s tackle the doldrums of the future another day, today, we’re dog-walking and Irish pub-dwelling. Happy Sunday, kids!
Tag Archives: wax
Comedy in Outer Space
So, when the decision to purchase an album is based on the 50+ year old advertisement stuck to the cover of an unheard album, you know there is a problem. Jose Jimenez, and the 1960? promo sticker that surrounds Jose Jimenez at Hungry and I starring Bill Dana, is the culprit here, and I am the helpless victim.
Best of Beastlike
This album, in compact disc form, was my first introduction to the band. More keen on The Kinks and The Zombies these days, but for those of you who don’t fancy the hunt, this Best of is damn spot on.
Maniacal Laughter
When anger and rage are your evening companions, a little Maniacal Laughter is certainly in order. Falling under the ever-growing nostalgia umbrella, East Coast pop-punkers The Bouncing Souls returned to the mid-90s middle class punk scene with their sophomore effort, 1996’s nearly perfect Maniacal Laughter. One of my early introductions to the band was this and their first, 1994’s The Good, the Bad & the Argyle, but for me, Maniacal Laughter is much more sophisticated than its predecessor, while still managing to embrace the slick, lighthearted, bratty aura that made them fan favorites all across the world. If you haven’t seen The Bouncing Souls live, you most certainly should. They’re a hell-of-a lot of fun… or, at least they were 20 years ago. We all may be getting older, but we’re never too old for some hearty Maniacal Laughter.
Bernard Herrmann (double N), and the Hitchcock extravaganza… get this masterful record, after all, it’s a Varese Sarabande release, and those in the know, know. Released in 1980, a solid year after my manifestation, Vol. 1 in the Soundtrack Series, this is certainly one to seek out. On a day of SEVERE disappointments, North By Northwest is a comforting chap.
Groove at the Copa
A close friend and old roommate had a copy of this record back in the day, so when I saw it at Nickelodeon Records in San Diego for a cool $3, I had get it. From the cover, to the tracklist, to the Darin-esk cool within, Darin at the Copa, at least this copy, has found a welcoming place to call home in our collection.
Side note time: Nickelodeon Records was where I found my first Tim Hardin record, 1967’s This is Tim Hardin. I own all but a few of his albums now, and I’m grateful to the two women at Nickelodeon for helping to supply the essential ingredient to arguably the best discography known to man… arguably.
Finding Thelma
Long after the rowdy Seattle serpents threw down the mic for what we THOUGHT was the last time, I found their last studio offering, 2001’s Thelma (EP) at a dingy little thrift store in Ventura, CA. The cover of this album housed a layer of funk so bad it emitted a murky cloud on its travel from shelf to turntable, but this was the Murder City Devils, and its physical filth only seemed to add to the band’s grimy (in an exceptionally good way) persona.
They’ve since recorded 2014’s The White Ghost Has Blood on Its Hands Again which, until researching for this post, I had no idea even existed. The checklist has just been updated.
Me and My Bean Bag
Me and My Bean Bag, the follow-up to the critically acclaimed Me and My Garbanzo Bean, shatters the primitive expectations (read: demands) from loyal fans of the Me and My Series. Marginally abandoning the space-country vibe of the series debut, the eponymous Me and My Asteroid Mistress, Me and My Bean Bag focuses more on the eclectic sounds of a Kitchen Aid mixer crossed with the unsettling sounds of lively power lines (aka: the rhythm section), which make up the bulk of this grounded album.
Questionable rumors are already spreading about the upcoming release in the series, a concept album loosely based on cement mixing called, Me and My Last Shoes.
If you enjoy Me and My Bean Bag, you’ll be thrilled by other outstanding releases from this groundbreaking series:
Me and My Asteroid Mistress (MaM001)
Me and My Expanding Waistline (MaM002)
Me and My Misinterpretation of the Word, Churlish (MaM003)
Me and My Garbanzo Bean (MaM004)
Me and My Bean Bag (MaM005)
Fight War, Not Wars…
Fight war, not wars. Destroy power, not people. – Crass
They wouldn’t be revered if they weren’t delicious. In the most simplistic of terms, Crass were holders of mirrors, reflecting the filth and smut of humanity. Blaming the frame which holds the mirror is much more popular than facing the impure and whorish tendencies we all inhabit as we stand and reflect. We hope to see something fixed, something humane, but reflection cannot, and does not lie.
To HELL With ‘Merica
I very much wanted to rant and rave about the current state of affairs, but chose to post this cover of Canada’s finest, the uncompromising Propagandhi’s 2nd album, instead. Even within our own walls we find restriction… anyway, GO CANADA!
Please, Mr. Postman
Please, Mr. Postman, don’t drop, throw, toss, pitch, hurl, thrust, flip, heave, fire, or fling any of my precious records upon delivery. My copy of Lawndale’s 1986 debut LP, Beyond Barbecue, was a birthday gift (my loving SO), and now it’s little more than unplayable garbage and a sour subject. Government-infused laziness should not, nor ever, equal subpar workmanship.
Rocket from the Insert aka Circa: 1991
Haven’t done an insert post in a while, and I’m nowhere near out of my (lifelong) RFTC phase, so here is side two to the Paint as a Fragrance insert from 1991, aka RFTC’s debut studio album.
The artist’s signature looks to be either a forgery, or an afterthought, but really what the hell do I know. Likely some child relation to Speedo based on the last name. Anyway, on a completely unrelated note, binge-watch your shows responsibly!
Give Us A Kiss
Solemn… elegant… desolate… nose-funk… beautiful… maze-town… stagnant pit of historic, Southern Californian greatness… “give us a kiss.”
Triple Digit Green
Sometimes in the triple digit heat in the middle of the desert you find a lovely little oasis and suddenly everything clicks like you knew that it should. God save the Village Green, ladies and gentlemen.
Circa: Soon
(Photo to come as soon as this 3rd rate, garbage bag Wi-Fi decides to start functioning…) So the lovely SO and I decided to take a trip to Sultan City, mainly because I’m a big dumb idiot. I have no idea what to anticipate, but expectations are certainly running on 11! (As previously stated, Wi-Fi at this Palms Springs hotel is garbage bag) #giveusakiss
Update @ 12:17: Wi-Fi decides to function, and allows my feeble image upload to compete. Don’t come to Palm Springs for the Wi-Fi, kids…
The Best of Peter Sellers
This album is a little more than a little misleading, as everyone clearly knows that the best of Peter Sellers is the 1964 masterpiece, Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb. This 1960, 11-track record is decent for tickling your chuckle-button, and although Mr. Sellers is renound the world over for his acclaimed genius-like tendencies, it doesn’t get any better than Sellers’ (as United States President Merkin Muffley) call to the Soviet Premier Dmitri Kissoff. Check it out.It’s Album Time
What can be said about Todd Terje that hasn’t been overstated already? Perhaps only this: better to get into this album, knowing absolutely nothing about it. Sub-classic electro-fun-zone… for those of you keeping score, that’s a solid 100%. No need to check your watch, because, It’s Album Time. Enjoy!
Old Time Piano
This is a fun one. So, long, sappy, convoluted story short, work has been a bear lately, so this past Saturday I decided to have some selfish fun. After liquoring up my SO on heavy margaritas and Mexican food, I nonchalantly informed her that we were heading to the local brick and mortar and that she had one, very important task at hand… one she certainly did not ask for, and one she admirably knocked out of the vinyl-spinning park. She was to pick out one record, period. See, she doesn’t collect vinyl… she cooks… and is amazing at it. I, collect… and eat her delicious goods. So, amongst a sea of Radiohead, Johnny Cash, and Beatles-related material, she picked Frank Froeba’s Old Time Piano 10″. I love this woman, and impromptu pairings of Mexican and record hunting is, I’m sorry kiddo, now a thing.
Begin Here, by Mr. Argent
For reasons far beyond my level of feeble comprehension, here is the back (ass-cover) to The Zombies’ 1965 debut, Begin Here. Mind you, this is just a reissue (180 gram, half speed mastering at Abbey Road), but Mr. Rod Argent’s humbling write-up has all the makings for an entry worthy of withstanding the tests of time. Have a read, then a listen (if you’re already in the know). The Zombies : Begin Here…
Return to Rhome
This could have been pressed on oil black, single vinyl with no bonus tracks or download card and I still would have thrown fists full of my hard earned cash for an opportunity to own Old 97’s insanely classic debut, Hitchhike to Rhome. Lucky for me, this puppy is the Cadillac of vinyl releases, as clearly stated by this marketing sticker, and needless to say, I’m giddy over FINALLY owning this uncompromising release.
The Prudent Groove 