main about mixtapes cd collection 2018 2017 2016 2015 2014 2013 2012 2011 2010 2009 2008 2007 2006 december 2005 november 2005 october 2005 september 2005 august 2005 july 2005 june 2005 may 2005 april 2005 march 2005 february 2005 january 2005 2004 2003		may 2005 5.2.05 I have a terrible time making up titles for my photographs, so I think from now on I'm just going to steal song titles from bands I like. I know, that's kind of a stretch for a music blog, but I've been nothing but printing, matting, and selling my photos for the last week, and I'm kind of focused on my photography right now. 5.3.05 What happened to Death Cab for Cutie, seriously? I mean, The Photo Album is just brilliant, one of my favorite records to come out that year, and all the more beloved because it made me feel almost exactly the same way as the Connell's Boylan Heights, one of the those great little discs that's intimately tied to my high school memories. But let's face it, Transatlanticism sucked, and I'm not real wild about them signing a major label deal and becoming the poster indie band for the O.C. Granted, Ben Gibbard's work with the Postal Service was great, too, and maybe working on both albums at the same time took something out of him, but shouldn't somebody in Death Cab have realized that he needed some time to recharge his batteries before they settled into the studio to grind out another record? They get one more chance to win me back, because I still love The Photo Album and We Have the Facts and We're Voting Yes, but I can't take another disc's worth of Transatlanticism-style songs. 5.4.05 Yesterday's new purchases revisted some very old friends, most of them with brand new albums: Nine Inch Nails' With Teeth, the Eels' Blinking Lights and Other Revelations, Ryan Adams and the Cardinals' Cold Roses, and, shockingly, Radiohead's OK Computer. I don't want you to go and start thinking that I'm just now becoming convinced of the brilliance of OK Computer; fact is, it was the record that won me over to Radiohead, and I got it within days of its release in 1997, even though up until then I hadn't like anything I'd heard from the band (the video for "Paranoid Android" was very persuasive). But a few years ago, when I was transferring the disc from its jewel case to the CD car case that held my weekly rotation, the foil on the CD (which actually contains the data read by the CD player's laser) peeled off with no warning, leaving me without a functioning copy of OK Computer. This was just before my entry into the world of digital music files, so I didn't even have backups on my hard drive; I convinced myself that it wouldn't be too long before I found it used somewhere, and that I could live without it for a few weeks. Predictably, weeks turned into months, and months turned into years, and yesterday I decided I'd had it with not being able to listen to this disc, so I finally broke down and re-bought it. The first thing I did after I opened it: ripped it to iTunes. So you won't be getting my money for this disc again, Radiohead——at least not until the next major media format comes along and forces me to repurchase everything I already own. Anyway. The other three discs share something very distinctive in common: they are all from artists who have produced three of my favorite records of all time (the Eels' Electro-Shock Blues, Nine Inch Nails' The Downward Spiral, and Whiskeytown's Pneumonia), but whose recent output has left something to be desired. Ryan Adams' solo career has never approached the work he did with Whiskeytown, but listening to samples from Cold Roses (a double CD), I became convinced that even if he couldn't reproduce the transcendental Pneumonia, these songs might be the closest he had come since breaking up Whiskeytown. Likewise, the Eels' have produced some really great stuff, but their last couple have felt pretty sterile and empty to me. Blinking Lights seems to be a return to the vibe of Electro-Shock, and it too is a sprawling double-CD set, and I'm hoping that this will be a return to form for frontman Mark Everett, whose last consistently good album was probably Daisies of the Galaxy. And while Trent Reznor has consistently produced great material over his career (I really liked The Fragile, and thought that it was once again ahead of the curve, although a lot of critics thought that he was just covering the same ground he had on The Downward Spiral), but it just feels like his time might have come and gone in the expansive five year gaps between his major releases. The early clips I heard from With Teeth seemed a lot more produced and shiny than his earlier work, but so far I'm liking it. It still might rank fourth out of four full-lengths for Nine Inch Nails, but it's also quite possible that it will make my top 10 this year. With two double CDs, I essentially got six albums worth of music for the price of four, and I know for sure that I'm going to love one of them because it's one that I've loved for almost eight years now. And based on my preliminary listens, there's a good chance I'm going to love the others, too, which would be beautiful, because I'd like nothing more than to see the Eels and Ryan Adams return to form and see Trent Reznor continue his string of near-perfect releases. 5.5.05 Mixtape: 1987 Track 13 "Thomas Doubter" Tiny Days Scruffy the Cat I could have chosen practically any song off of Tiny Days for this mixtape, but I chose "Thomas Doubter" mostly because it underscores a major problem in rock today: a stupefying lack of banjo. Not to say that you can't make a great album without a banjo, but let me tell you, adding a banjo can turn a pretty good record into a brilliant one. Scruffy the Cat's career bears testament this truism: for their first two releases, High Octane Revival and especially Tiny Days, they had a full-time banjo player who added that indefinable extra something to every track, another layer, another texture, something that set the band apart from their peers. But he decided to quit after the Tiny Days tour, so their next record, Moons of Jupiter, was entirely banjo-free. And it wasn't all that good; it was flatter, duller, less interesting. Some might point to the bloated tracklist, the overly-slick production, and the slower pace of the songs, but no: the real problem was the lack of banjo. Had they but had a banjo, the other issues would have resolved themselves. They still put on a hell of a live show, but it just didn't translate that well into studio recordings, and the band broke up shortly after the release of Moons. The first time I ever heard Scruffy was when hallmates in the room next door started blasting them in the middle of the day, and I instantly fell in love. I'm kidding about the banjo——sort of, because it really does add something special——what really attracted me were the clever, funny lyrics and the simple, direct pop songs enhanced by loud guitars, harmonicas, and, of course, a banjo. "My Baby She's Allright" remains one of the best teen crush songs ever written, "Shadow Boy" is the most charming song about a stalker I've yet heard, and "Upside Down" makes a trivial act (writing someone's name upside-down) sound like a fate worse than disemboweling——but in a humorous way. And that's just the first three songs——they're all keepers, which is miraculous when you consider the songs on Moons of Jupiter, which doesn't have one decent single (don't get me started about their jokey cover of "I Think We're Alone Now", which had been most recently revived in the minds of teens everywhere by Tiffany's cover). Tiny Days seemed like a blessing, it was so perfect, but Scruffy flamed out pretty quick after that. Too bad, really, because not only did we miss out on more gems like Tiny Days, Tiny Days itself was quickly forgotten by all but those lucky enough to grab it during the few years it was in print. It's a shame that I can't tell you where to buy this now, because even after all these years, it still retains its punch, its joy, its youth. 5.6.05 I'm going to be gone for about a week, so if you find yourself in need of a music blog fix while I'm gone, check out the Eels' bizarrely constructed site or Billy Corgan's site, particularly his Confessions section, which is a little too raw for comfort. Those of you who hate Billy Corgan already won't change your mind about him after reading these very personal scattershot memoirs, but those of you who, like me, find him adorably damaged and sincere, will probably enjoy getting a little more insight into his own conception of how he came to make the music he makes. Enjoy. 5.6.05 I'm not completely sold on it yet, but I think the Eels' Blinking Lights and Other Revelations might be the disc I was hoping for. A tip that other artists <cough>Ryan Adams</cough> who like to release records with a ridiculous number of songs on them: keep them short. Even though Blinking Lights is a double CD with 33(!) tracks, only three of the songs are over four minutes long, and many of them clock in at around two minutes. Which means that even if the idea behind a song isn't that great, you don't have to listen to it for long and it doesn't significantly affect the flow of the disc (for the record, however, there aren't many bad ideas I'v heard so far on Blinking Lights). Speaking of Ryan Adams, even though his new double CD Cold Roses is bloated with too many songs that go on for a little too long, this still might be his most noteworthy solo effort yet. I haven't digested it as fully because I've been spending my time with the Eels, but "Magnolia Mountain" is one of the best songs he's every recorded, and the return to his early country-influenced Whiskeytown sound seems so far like the best decision he's made in his erratic solo career. Cold Roses probably would have been a much stronger release if it had been whittled down to one CD, but then again, it's hard to say exactly which songs should be cut. 5.16.05 Edict #1: All rental cars shall be retrofitted to accept input from an iPod. 5.17.05 The night before we left for our weeklong trip to New Orleans and Iowa, we went with my brother to the 9:30 Club in DC to see the Decemberists, the third time we have seen them or lead singer/songwriter Colin Meloy in the last eight months or so. The club was completely packed (the show sold out weeks in advance), and we were pretty far from the stage, but it was still a great show (save for the opening act, a female singer/guitarist who tried and failed miserably to pull a Billy Bragg by playing alone with an electric guitar). It's still amazing to me how that band can make was is essentially an eight-minute polka jam complete with accordian seem like the most transcendental experience. "The Bagman's Gambit", a story of intrigue and espionage that makes mention of working for the government in an office on the National Mall, went over especially well with the Beltway crowd, and the Kate Bush cover sung by new backup singer/violist Petra Hayden was pretty good too (although I wish they'd broken out a Smiths or Echo & the Bunnymen cover instead). Oh, and since it was broadcast on NPR for All Songs Considered, you can listen to a stream of the show here. 5.18.05 Hmmm...Billy Corgan presale at the 9:30 Club today. To buy or not to buy? 5.19.05 Still undecided about the new Nine Inch Nails, but I really like "Every Day Is Exactly the Same", which reminds me more of his work on Pretty Hate Machine than anything of his albums since then. Given the recent obsession among synth-influnced rock that pays homage to the dark postpunk of the early 80s, Pretty Hate Machine is just about due for a serious bump on the pop-culture relevance scale, and it wouldn't surprise me at all if "Every Day" was the catalyst that brought that about. 5.20.05 "Subterranean Homesick Alien" was always my favorite song on one of my favorite albums (Radiohead's OK Computer, which I recently re-acquired after not having a copy for several years), and hearing it again, it still gets me every time. I'm not willing to go all the way and say it's the best song that Radiohead has ever recorded, but if I were to start seriously thinking about how to answer such a ridiculously unanswerable question, this song would absolutely be where I would start. 5.23.05 "Motherfucker=Redeemer" might be the best song title ever. 5.24.05 Listened to the first single from Billy Corgan's first official solo album (although we all know that Zwan and Smashing Pumpkins were really Billy Corgan solo albums on which other musicians played), and it sounds pretty good. Except that, for only the second time in his career (the first time being Smashing Pumpkins' Adore), he doesn't have Jimmy Chamberlin on drums. And even though the songs are all Corgan, they just don't sound right without Chamberlin on the skins——he adds that extra something that transforms Corgan's compositions into something transcendental. With an ordinary drummer, this first single, "Mina Loy (M.O.H.)", sounds leaden, heavy, like it can't quite get off the ground, which is the way a lot of Adore sounded to me (it's my least favorite Pumpkins album, tied with their debut, Gish). I hope this isn't indicative of the rest of the record, but honestly, I don't see how Corgan can even think about making a record without Chamberlin. You'd think he'd have learned his lesson with Adore. 5.25.05 $.99 for 9 1/2 minutes of Iron and Wine? That sounds like a good deal to me, iTunes. Sold. 5.26.05 Hmmm. I read in an interview with Billy Corgan that Jimmy Chamberlin does appear on his new solo album. If that's true, I hope to god he's not the drummer on the single I heard, because the drumming is terrible, nothing like the work Chamberlin did with the Pumpkins or Zwan (and certainly not his work on his solo album, Life Begins Again, which I am now inspired to buy after listening to clips on iTunes). If Billy's lost the classic Jimmy sound, his new solo record could really be doomed. 5.27.05 I have a playlist that has all the albums I've bought in 2005 that has about 258 songs. Today when driving to and from work, I played 25 songs from that playlist. On the morning ride, 7 of the 13 songs were from Eels and Architecture in Helsinki. On the drive home, 8 of the 12 were from Eels, Bloc Party, and LCD Soundsystem. Don't tell me that the iPod doesn't have moods. 5.31.05 Bunch of new purchases to tell you about soon, but I want to mention one in particular: the Hold Steady's Separation Sunday. I've been waiting all year for an album that would grab me by the throat and not let go. I thought it might be Spoon's Gimme Fiction, or Sleater-Kinney's The Woods, but no, it's Separation Sunday. Rock album of the year. Go get this fucker right now.