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mixtapes
Mixtape: 1988
When I first started combing through the releases for 1988, I have to admit I was disappointedthere were so many mediocre releases from bands whose previous records I had loved with a passon, including the Balancing Act, Siouxsie and the Banshees, That Petrol Emotion, Wire, Let's Active, Julian Cope, the Woodentops, Scruffy the Cat, Waxing Poetics, Timbuk 3, EIEIO, and the Violent Femmes (most of whom you've seen on one of the two previous year mixtapes). Some of these would go on to have solid comebacks in the future, most notably Julian Cope and That Petrol Emotion, but many of these groups permanently put their best days behind them with these releases, and for more than a few, these would actually be the last records they ever released (Let's Active, the Woodentops, and Scruffy the Cat, to name the three biggest losses).
On the other hand, we had a passel of solid releases from established bands like the Smithereens, Game Theory, the Church, Soul Asylum, and Love Tractor, along with several groups who were making what would turn out to be their masterpieces (Robyn Hitchcock, Throwing Muses, Camper Van Beethoven, the Pogues, Fishbone, and Sonic Youth). In addition, we saw debuts from a few bands who would go on to bigger and better things, although some of their first tries are pretty impressive (Jane's Addiction, House of Freaks, Cowboy Junkies, and the Sugarcubes).
Even given the quality releases I found when I dug deeper into my collection, I was still worried about having enough material to fill out a whole mixtape and not sure how I would put all the pieces together. But this mixtape actually came together surprisingly fastwith the two previous mixes, I had at least four drafts before I hit on the right combination of artists and songs, and they each took me a couple of weeks to put together. With the 1988 mixtape, I hit upon the final tracklisting on my second try, and it only took me one evening. And despite all the should-have-beens that weren't quite up to snuff, there were still plenty of great records to pull from; in some ways, this is the most listenable of the three year mixtapes I've compiled so far.
- "It's Only Life"
Only Life
The Feelies
read about this song
- "Chinese Bones"
Globe of Frogs
Robyn Hitchcock
read about this song
- "Bottle of Smoke"
If I Should Fall From Grace With God
The Pogues
read about this song
- "Juno"
House Tornado
Throwing Muses
read about this song
- "Birthday"
Life's Too Good
The Sugarcubes
read about this song
- "Wish I Could Stand or Have"
Two Steps From the Middle Ages
Game Theory
read about this song
- "Everyday Is Like Sunday"
Viva Hate
Morrissey
read about this song
- "One of These Days"
Our Beloved Revolutionary Sweetheart
Camper Van Beethoven
read about this song
- "Storms in Africa"
Watermark
Enya
read about this song
- "Misguided Angel"
The Trinity Session
Cowboy Junkies
read about this song
- "Venice"
Themes From Venus
Love Tractor
read about this song
- "Out of Reach"
Lovely
The Primitives
read about this song
- "Standing in the Shower...Thinking"
Nothing's Shocking
Jane's Addiction
read about this song
- "Ghetto Soundwave"
Truth and Soul
Fishbone
read about this song
- "Gigantic"
Surfer Rosa
The Pixies
read about this song
- "Silver Rocket"
Daydream Nation
Sonic Youth
read about this song
- "Anchorage"
Short Sharp Shocked
Michelle Shocked
read about this song
- "I'll Treat You Right Someday"
Monkey on a Chain Gang
House of Freaks
read about this song
- "Chains"
Clam Dip and Other Delights
Soul Asylum
read about this song
- "If I Was a Mekon"
Son of Sam I Am
Too Much Joy
read about this song
- "Green Thoughts"
Green Thoughts
The Smithereens
read about this song
- "A New Season"
Starfish
The Church
read about this song
- "Untitled"
Green
R.E.M.
read about this song
Track 1
"It's Only Life"
Only Life
The Feelies
The Feelies have a lot of interesting little factoids in their historytheir name comes from a more immersive form of movies described in Aldous Huxley's Brave New World; Golden Palominos prime mover Anton Fier was the drummer on their debut album; one of the members later went on to found Luna, etc.but what they will be most remembered for is their uncanny ability to sound more like the Velvet Underground than even Lou Reed's most Velvet-y solo efforts.
And on none of their albums is this more true than Only Life, whose lead-off track, "It's Only Life", could be a leftover gem from the Velvets heyday. The Feelies even close the album by covering "What Goes On", which is both a homage to their most obvious primary source and a reminder that, at the end of the day, no one can ever really comes close to recreating the sound and the mystery of the Velvet Underground.
Still, the Feelies give it a pretty good shot on this record, and while most bands would aspire to something more than being remembered as the best band ever to ape the sound of a legendary predecessor like the Velvet Underground, I guess it's better to be remembered for that than nothing at all.
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Track 2
"Chinese Bones"
Globe of Frogs
Robyn Hitchcock
While I would eventually go on to own almost everything in Robyn Hitchcock's extensive catalog (Gotta Let This Hen Out! and Groovy Decoy, along with a couple of the Soft Boys records, are the only widely available releases I'm missing at this point), Globe of Frogs was my first introduction to the man, and I almost didn't buy it because 1) I don't generally trust guys named "Robyn" and 2) especially when they spell it with a "y". Back in my high school years, when funds were limited and you could never buy everything you wanted to hear, it didn't take much more than that to bump someone off the purchase list.
Luckily, I didn't let my distaste for foppery get in the way (I let him slide because he was English, and, well, there's some foppery to be expected from the inhabitants of that peculiar isle), and it's a good thing, toonot only is Robyn one of my favorite artists, Globe of Frogs just happens to be one of his two best albums, along with Moss Elixir.
As is usual on a great Hitchcock album, the songs vary widely in tone and style, and also as is usual, oblique non-sequitors abound. "Chinese Bones" is a quiet, shimmering tune with lyrics that don't follow any kind of linear narrative path no matter how much you try to read into them, but it contains one of the best lines Robyn has ever written: "Something Shakespeare never said was, 'You've got to be kidding.'"
I don't know how that line sounds to anyone else, but it just kills me every time I hear it. Truth comes in many strange forms, and Robyn seems to have a special knack for dispensing it in easily digestible but slightly bizarre couplets.
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Track 3
"Bottle of Smoke"
If I Should Fall From Grace With God
The Pogues
So...I guess I've really been slacking about this whole mixtape thing, and back when I first put the 1988 mix together, I had an entirely different entry in mind than the one you're going to get now. There was probably going to be some lamenting about the decline at the end of the Pogues career, even while frontman Shane McGowan was still with them, and some further griping that bands like the Pogues come around so rarely, and what a shame it was that I didn't know about them until they had already started to go downhill and never got to see one of their legendary live shows.
Since then, however, the Pogues have reformed (as a touring act, anywayno new material in sight, and that might be for the best, really) and made their first trip stateside since the early 90s, and I was lucky enough to get tickets to see one of the shows in DC at the 9:30 Club. The revised entry I had planned to write on "Bottle of Smoke" (which they played, thank god) was going to talk a lot about that show, about how there was still so much vitality to their performance despite the obvious decay of Shane's body, and how there was also so much corresponding life left in the songs.
But that started to drift into a near-eulogy for the band, which somehow doesn't feel right. Because if I were going to write a eulogy for this band, it would go something like this: the Pogues kicked ass, and as long as we have copies of their records, or as long as they can find a way to get onstage every now and then, they will continue to kick ass. So let's leave it at that.
"Bottle of Smoke" is one of my favorite songs off of what is undoubtedly the band's most fully realized work, If I Should Fall From Grace With God. Regardless of its other charms, it's worth it to go to a Pogues show just so you can yell "Twenty-fucking-five to one!" at the top of your lungs with a crowd of hundreds of other Pogues fans.
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Track 4
"Juno"
House Tornado
Throwing Muses
One of my favorite stories about Throwing Muses is when I went to see them at the Cat's Cradle in Chapel Hill while they were touring in support of House Tornado's successor, Hunkpapa. They played a decently long set, but it consisted entirely of material from their debut and from Hunkpapa; not a single song from House Tornado made it onto the setlist. When the band came back onstage for the encore and played yet another non-House Tornado song, someone in the crowd yelled what we were all thinking: "Play something from House Tornado!" Singer/guitarist Kristin Hersh's response: "YOU play something from House Tornado."
Anyone who has heard this record gets the joke: House Tornado is fiendishly difficult from a technical standpoint, with multiple time changes and some very delicate guitar work on nearly every track. Not that the band wasn't capable of reproducing the songs in a live context (they toured behind it, after all), but I'm sure that, after a couple of years of non-stop touring and recording, it was probably nice to take a night off from House Tornado and its complexities every now and then.
House Tornado is one of my favorite records of all time, and it's one of those records that's really hard to talk about because it is tied to such deeply personal emotions and events (I was in high school when it came outneed I explain further?) that I feel like when I talk about it, I'm revealing some very vulnerable parts of myself. It's a record that I can really only listen to alone; as brilliant as I think this record is, I can only share it with others by telling them about it or writing about it. This is partly because I get so lost in this record that I don't want to have anything interrupt the experience, and partly because if I was listening to it with someone I cared about and they didn't have the same response to it that I do, I'm afraid I would think a little less highly of them, however ridiculous that might sound.
The record has a lot more sharp edges and sudden time changes than the Muses self-titled debut (which is also amazing), and the intricacy of the guitar interplay between Kristin Hersh and Tanya Donnelly presages the complex roar of intertwining guitars that would become the hallmark of the late, lamented Sleater-Kinney. There is a real austerity to the House Tornado recordings; the mental picture I get of the recording process is the band stranded in a single room, a concrete block building engulfed in a winter-long snowstorm. There's an echo that haunts the otherwise pristine clarity of the instruments on every song, and it somehow feels as if every band member is playing alone even though they're all in the same room together. Lyrically and musically, it speaks strongly to the isolation that's at the core of the human condition: no matter how close we feel to someone, no matter how many friends we have, at the end of the day, we're all by ourselves in our own skulls, and there's a certain separation from the people closest to us that no amount of openess and intimacy can overcome.
I'd say that "Juno" is one of the more accessible tracks on the record, but that's on a very relative scale. I actually love every song on this record, and I find them all catchy as hell, but I'm guessing that not many people would agree. On the liner notes for In a Doghouse, which compiles their earliest recordings, including a demo cassette and their debut album, Kristin writes:
I swear to God, I thought we were a party band. As Throwing Muses, at age oh, sixteen or seventeen, we were gleefully impressed with ourselves and our ability to bring joy to people through sound. We were then stunned and horrified to see our audiences react with something like stunned horror.
This pretty much sums up my experiences trying to proselytize about the band to my peers in high school: at best they thought some of the songs were okay, and at worst they thought everything about Throwing Muses was horrible. My roommate junior year even got so sick of me listening to their debut that he actually hid the CD for a few weeks, convincing me that I'd lost it somewhere (I think he thought about destroying it, but whatever small fragment of a conscience he had left kicked in and made him just withhold it from me for a bit).
Anyway. I love this band, even though they (or ringleader Kristen, either as a solo act or with her latest project, 50 Foot Wave) would rarely reach the perfection of House Tornado on their subsequent efforts. And if you love House Tornado as much as I do...well, I'm not saying we'd be instant best friends or anything, but there is some sort of cosmic frequency we're both tuned into that not many other people seem to be able to hear.
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Track 5
"Birthday"
Life's Too Good
The Sugarcubes
Before Bjork became Bjork, she was known as one of the two singers for Iceland's the Sugarcubes. And she wasn't even the weirdest of the twoalthough she has since gone on to outweird just about everyone on the planet, the award for oddest Sugarcube would have to go to Einar Benediktsson, the male singer whose hesitant, barking vocal style can only be considered singing in the loosest sense of the word. Make no mistake, though, to fans, Bjork's voice was always the heart of the group, even though her bandmates not have given her the same standing.
Given how much I liked Life's Too Good when it came out, and how much I still liked it in the following years when the Sugarcubes released their second and third albums, I'm still a little surprised that I didn't purchase anything else by the band. I never really got into Bjork as a solo artist, either (although I'm aware of her influence, and over time I've added some of her work to my music collection), so this record is really the only strong
Life's Too Good holds up pretty well as a bit of quirky pop ("Deus" in particular is charmingly weird but also pretty radio friendly), but the darker (though still fun) "Birthday" is clearly the standout, the song that hints most strongly at the future direction of Bjork's career. It's almost indescribable (and therefore indescribably good); there's really not much else before or since with which you can compare this track. If I had been doing an annual top 10 singles list back in those days, "Birthday" would easily have been at the top of the list.
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Track 6
"Wish I Could Stand or Have"
Two Steps From the Middle Ages
Game Theory
Two Steps From the Middle Ages was the unexpected swan song for Game Theory, and also a return to more straightforward pop sound after the dizzyingly eclectic (and brilliant) double album, Lolita Nation. This began a pattern that frontman Scott Miller would continue over the next several years with his next band, Loud Family, which debuted with a album full of sonic experiments and spoken word collages (a hallmark of Lolita), followed by album with ten unambiguous pop songs, followed by an experimental album, and so on.
But no matter how many studio tricks made their way onto the records, pop songs with great hooks and clever lyrics were always at the heart of Scott Miller's records, and that's the case with Two Steps. It's a pretty decent album, but it's probably the most predictable work Game Theory produced (which may be why Miller broke up the band and went on to continue his pop vision with a new cast of characters who could bring a few new ideas to the mix).
However, when you're as good as Game Theory, being predictable isn't necessarily a bad thing, and Two Steps may contain the quintessential Game Theory track, "Throwing the Election". The only reason this isn't on this mixtape (and this may seem like twisted reasoning given that I'm trying to compile the stuff that I listened to most often and liked the best during these years) is because I put it on pretty much every mixtape I made for at least two years after this album came out. I chose "Wish I Could Stand or Have" instead because it's always been a close second for my favorite song on this record. Some people find it too short or too repetitive or too relentlessly upbeat, but whatever. I've never spent much time examining why I love it, I just love it and I have from my first listen.
The song also worked really well as bridge between the Sugarcubes and Morrissey, both musically and as a study in career transitions: with the Sugarcubes, we see future solo artist Bjork making her first major foray into the musical world as a member of a collaborative band, and with Morrissey, we see the frontman for a major band making his first attempt to define himself as a solo act. On Two Steps, Scott Miller falls somewhere in between, making his last record with a band he's fronted since he was a teenager, but on the verge of defining himself as a Billy Corgan-like solo artist who carries his unique vision from band to band while never officially becoming a solo act.
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Track 7
"Everyday Is Like Sunday"
Viva Hate
Morrissey
Like many Smiths fans after the band's unexpected breakup, I was tempted to think that I was really a Morrissey fan, and that Morrissey's solo records would elicit the same kind of response in me that the Smiths' records had. And Morrissey tried damn hard to ape the sound that Johnny Marr had created to envelop his words, hiring former Smiths producer Stehpen Street to write Marr-like tracks and writing lyrics that would have fit perfectly well on a Smiths record.
But as much as the faithful wanted to believe, Morrissey wasn't the only ingredient that made the Smiths so special; no one could match Marr's songwriting for the band, not even Marr himselfhis post-Smiths work, whether solo or as part of a band, doesn't begin to come close to anything he did with the Smiths (although his recent allliance with Modest Mouse, the fruits of which were just released, holds some promise). There was just something about the music Morrissey and Marr made together that can't be recreated by either one of them alone.
You have to give Marr some credit for not attempting to recreate the Smithsnothing he's done since the band's last album has sounded remotely like he's trying to write more songs for Morrissey's voice and melodies. Morrissey, being the frontman and the literal and figurative voice for the band, had a harder time avoiding Smiths comparisons, but he also didn't shy away from them, especially on his first two or three solo releases, and that's certainly the case on his first solo outing, Viva Hate.
"Suedehead", the first single from the album, was my original selection to represent Viva Hate on this list, but the more I re-listened to the record, the more it became clear that "Everyday Is Like Sunday" is more solidly constructed, more biting, more melodicin short, I guess, more Smiths-likethan anything else on the album.
I don't think I've ever been totally in love with a solo album from a leading player in a band I'm already devoted to, whether that artist is trying to recreate the sound of their original band or striking off in a new directionbut I'd have to say that Morrissey's Viva Hate probably comes the closest of any other similar attempt in my CD collection. Many of the tracks wouldn't be out of place on a proper Smiths album, or at least on an odds and ends compilation like Louder Than Bombs, and nearly 20 years later (god that was a weird phrase to write), "Everyday Is Like Sunday" is the clear standout.
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Track 8
"One of These Days"
Our Beloved Revolutionary Sweetheart
Camper Van Beethoven
I have very specific memories associated with this album; when it came out, I was going to a public boarding magnet school for science and math, and aside from general curfews about when we had to be back in the dorms at night and strict policies about class attendance, we were pretty much left to our own devices. Sure, technically they did a bed check around 11 every night, but after that it wasn't too hard to sneak out to someone else's room and hang out there for as long as you wanted.
Second semester of my senior year, I spent a lot of time down in the room of two juniors who happened to have a computer (and this was back when almost no one had their own computer, even students who were attending a science and math oriented high school). It wasn't a very good computer by today's standardsa simple monochrome green and black screen that was really designed as a terminal for text-based commands and programming. Remember Matthew Broderick's computer from Wargames? Yeah, like that.
But just like in Wargames, even though the computers weren't really designed for gaming, people wrote games for this PC anyway, and the one game that my friends had loaded was Pirates, which my recent research tells me was Sid Meier's (of Civilization fame) first great creation and which has been redeveloped for the PC and PSP in the last few years. It was the first of many games that I would get addicted to over the yearsSim City, Diablo II, and now World of Warcraftand it holds a special place in my heart because of the communal way in which I experienced the game. Since it was in my friend's room, there was almost always someone else in there watching over your shoulder as you played, or if someone got to the computer before you did, you'd hang out with them while they planed.
This is a long way round to get to Camper Van Beethoven's Our Beloved Revolutionary Sweetheart, but this album was the constant soundtrack for all those hours spent playing Piratesit was always on in that room, even at 3 in the morning when the actual occupants of the room were asleep and the only light was the toxic green glow of the computer screen. Camper Van's country-infused indie rock, with a violin that snaked its way through almost every track, fit well with the nautical outlaw settings of Pirates.
The "sweetheart" in the album title refers to Patty Hearst, aka Tania, the heir to the Hearst publishing fortune who was kidnapped by a band of radicals in the 60s and brainwashed to the point where she participated in an armed bank robbery with the rest of the cult. Camper Van always had a penchant for the weirdin many of their early interviews, they claimed that they were being monitored and infiltrated by the Illuminati, a favorite target of conspiracy theorists for centuriesand although there were certainly elements of that weirdness in the lyrics on this record, there were also a lot of relatively straightforward songs, including a few instrumentals and a cover of the traditional tune "O Death" (which you might recognize from another version that appeared on the O Brother, Where Art Thou? soundtrack).
I saw the band play live several times in the late 80s in support of this record and their next, Key Lime Pie, and I felt a real connection with them. Sweetheart remains one of my favorite albums from that time in my life, mostly because the laid-back vibe of many of the songs and the positive tone of the lyrics, which were hopeful without being sappy, gave me some vague sense that everything would work out in the end. "One of These Days" is one of these optimistic tracks, although its optimism about the future is cut with a melancholy about the present that is reinforced by the musicslower than midtempo, with a pensive violin that serves as a complimentary voice to David Lowery's restrained vocals.
I don't know quite how to wrap this updespite the length of this post, I've only just begun to explain my complex relationship with this album. But think I've gone on quite long enough for now, and all I can say is, it's remarkable how well these songs hold up after nearly two decades. This was a brilliant, underappreciated album in its own time, and it's unfortunate that it remains so today.
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Track 9
"Storms in Africa"
Watermark
Enya
Yeah, I know. It's Enya. Paul Simon's Graceland was the one CD that my father and I could agree on when we were in the car together; Enya's Watermark was the one the my stepmother and I saw eye to eye on. I loved this record at the time, and much of it holds up pretty well. But Enya has always been a very divisive artist: either you love her or you hate her with a passion. A subset of folks in the hate group are those who have never actually listened to her music, but just hate her on principle, a group that I probably would have been in myself had I not actually had an open mind about her music the first few times I listened to Watermark. If you've really given her an honest shot at least once and you just don't like her, I'm not going to try to convert you. Her work is definitely made for a specific mood, and some people are just never in that mood.
After hearing her second album, Shepherd Moons, via my stepmother, and finding it to be so similar to Watermark as to be indistinguishable, I realized that Enya was one of those artists I would never need to own more than one album's worth of songs for. So before I started writing this entry, I had no clue about her subsequent career: was she still recording, had she fallen into the cult category, etc. It turns out that she is still actively releasing music, and while her sound will always keep her in a certain niche, she's probably far too successful to be labeled a cult act. According to iTunes, she's the second most successful Irish artist of all time, behind only Bono and the rest of the U2 kids; she apparently had a fairly successful single in the wake of 9.11; and she appears to have contributed some songs to the Lord of the Rings movies (I recall thinking when I saw the films that certain soundtrack elements were ripping her off bigtime, but knowing now that she actually contributed music to the project, it makes a little more sense).
There are two versions of "Storms in Africa" on this record; the one I've chosen for this mix is the one that closes out the album, which uses syncopated African percussion much more prominently and which is a little less approaching storm-like than the version situated in the middle of the album. It's a mood piece that contrasts well with the Camper Van song before it and gives a nice lead-in to the Cowboy Junkies' haunted, understated sound.
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Track 10
"Misguided Angel"
The Trinity Session
Cowboy Junkies
The day I bought The Trinity Session, I was in a particularly ornery teen mood and I was looking for something loud, raucous, and angry. I didn't know anything about the band and hadn't heard a single song off of the album, but I remembered seeing it on the college music top 10 in the back of Rolling Stone, and I figured with a band name like the Cowboy Junkies, there was a good chance it was what I was looking for.
Those of you who have heard the record can imagine my deep disappointment when I heard the first track, which turned to even deeper disappointment with each successive track, until I finally gave up around five songs in. I didn't even pretend to give the record a chance that day; it just wasn't right for the mood I was in.
But eventually I came around and started to appreciate the uniqueness of this record, from the live single-microphone recording technique to the mixture of original material, covers, and traditional songs to the haunting beauty that underpins it all. The Trinity Session is so called because it was recorded in the Church of the Holy Trinity in Toronto in a single session (although not in one continuous take).
The Cowboy Junkies share some unusual affinities with the previous artist in this mix, Enya. Like the Irish vocalist, the Cowboy Junkies are still making music nearly 20 years after their best known work was released (in fact, they just released a new album last week), and, like Enya, you really don't need to own more than one of their records, since their style has been so consistent over the years. I don't, however, think that these Canucks are the second highest-grossing act of all time from their home country.
The album (and really the band) is probably best known for the cover of the Velvet Underground's "Sweet Jane", but for me, the standouts are the first two tracks: the traditional "Mining for Gold", sung a cappella by lead vocalist Margo Timmins, and the original piece "Misguided Angel", composed by her brother, lead songwriter and guitarist Michael Timmins. There aren't many bands that would mix in their own original material with covers of songs like "Blue Moon", "So Lonesome I Could Cry", "Walkin' After Midnight", and the previously mentioned "Sweet Jane", but "Misguided Angel" and "200 More Miles" more than hold their own.
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Track 11
"Venice"
Themes From Venus
Love Tractor
I wrote a lot about Love Tractor for the 1986 mixtape, which featured their song "Beatle Boots", and there's not a whole lot more to add here. Themes From Venus was an admirable successor to This Ain't No Outerspace Ship, keeping the same quirky pop sensibilities intact and maybe ratcheting up the oddball quotient a notch or two. But all in all, this seemed like another solid album from a band that was really hitting its stride...until they broke up for more than a decade.
"Satan" was another top choice for this slot, but "Venice" gets me every time with that "lost in passages after midnight" phrase. Both this record and Outerspace Ship, along with their earlier instrumental records, are now available on iTunes, so there's really no excuse not to at least give them a listen if you've never heard them before. Just do us all a favor and avoid the recent stuff, starting with 2005's Black Holethese aren't true Love Tractor records, as they feature only one person who was in the band during the 80s, and he's basically using the band name to market his solo work (whereas 2001's The Sky at Night features three of the four people who played on this record).
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Track 12
"Out of Reach"
Lovely
The Primitives
This band rose and fell pretty quicklythe fuzz guitar pop of Lovely was widely heralded on the college radio circuit in the US and in the snarky British music press, and they even had a pretty big hit in the UK, but by the time they released their sophomore disc they were at best ignored and at worst ridiculedI remembered they even canceled a gig in their ostensible hometown of London because they just couldn't sell any tickets.
Still, this is a pretty listenable album, one of those records where it seems like almost any song could be a single. And it's not a stretch to say that the Primitives could be just as strongly linked to the Raveonettes sound as the Jesus and Mary Chain, with whom the Raveonettes are ALWAYS compared. But that just wouldn't be as cool now would it? And that's what the Primitives' brief career really seems to boil down to: they just weren't cool enough to withstand the backlash for whatever reason. And I'm just as guilty as anyoneI can almost guarantee I never heard the follow-up, Pure, but for some reason I never bought it, and I'm the kind of guy who gives pretty much everyone at least one chance to fuck up if I liked their last record.
Lovely is stuffed with armloads of little pop gems, and I'm not ashamed to say I'm still a fan of this record. It's just too bad that I can't tell you what I thought of their next record as well.
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Track 13
"Standing in the Shower...Thinking"
Nothing's Shocking
Jane's Addiction
It was Nirvana's 1991 release of Nevermind that really brought alternative guitar rock into the mainstream, but in the same way that the Stone Roses never would have been huge in England if the groundwork hadn't already been laid by the Smiths, Jane's Addiction's Nothing's Shocking paved the way for the harder guitar sounds that would define much of early 90s rock.
The Janes were already famous for their live sets before they released their debut studio album, and although there's too much studio sheen to say that the record is a faithful reproduction of their live show, the intensity and fury of the band remains intact. The band was best known for the largely acoustic "Jane Says" (which is probably still their signature song to the mainstream audience), but the record as a whole has a much harder edge with glam metal influences and Stephen Perkins' aggressive drumming.
"Standing in the Shower...Thinking" seems more influenced by funk than metal (aside from the freakout guitar solo), and it almost sounds pop-y in this post-grunge age, but compared to what was being played on the radio at the time, it was pretty aggressive. The band didn't have a big impact on radio, but their live shows garnered them a loyal following that gave them a gold record and a hit single by their second album.
It's hard to overstate the importance and influence of Nothing's Shocking, especially given how short the Janes' career was (at least the first phase, the important phase), but this record was the harbinger for almost every successful alternative rock band that would top the charts a few years later, from Nirvana to the Red Hot Chili Peppers to Radiohead to Smashing Pumpkins and all the lesser imitators of these groups. We remember Nevermind more because that was the first massive commercial success that kicked off a decade of chart dominance for alternative rock, but the release of Nothing's Shocking in 1988 is where I mark the beginning of the sea change that would be fully realized three years later.
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Track 14
"Ghetto Soundwave"
Truth and Soul
Fishbone
I've had writer's block trying to come up with something for this entry, and although it's not solely to blame for the long pause between this entry and the last one for the 1988 mixtape, I think I probably could have pushed through if another song or another band had been in this slot.
So let's just keep this short and sweet: I debated long and hard between this song and "Ma and Pa", and I'm still not sure I made the right choice. But they are both great songs from Fishbone's defining work. It's hard to put a lable on this band, but if you actually read this blog and haven't heard of them, at least take the time to listen to the two songs named in this entry to see if you want more.
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Track 15
"Gigantic"
Surfer Rosa
The Pixies
I met Kristin Hersh at a surprise in-store record signing when I was a senior in high school. It wasn't really a surprise to me——the record store owner knew I was a big Throwing Muses fan and told me about it a couple of days ahead of time, and since there weren't too many other people around at 2 p.m. on a Tuesday afternoon at a small independent record store a few blocks from the campus of Duke University, a couple of my friends and I basically got an hour or so to hang out with Kristin and the Muses' drummer, David Narcizo.
After we got some posters signed and CD inserts doodled on, Kristin started telling me about this great band from Boston that the Muses (who were relatively established at that point, having just released a record on the semi-major Sire label) were all fans of. That band was the Pixies, who were the second American band (after Throwing Muses) to sign to the legendary British label 4AD.
I had heard of the Pixies, but I hadn't heard them, and with my limited budget in those days, I tended to stick to bands that I'd seen in concert or bands that I already owned albums for (no 30 second legal previews or full album free illegal downloads back then), and so I never pulled the trigger. But Kristin, who was the driving force behind my favorite band at the time, convinced me to give them a shot. And just in time, too: later that year the Pixies would release what might be the best record of the 1980s (although it really fits better into the 1990s), Doolittle.
So I never actually heard Sufer Rosa or "Gigantic" in 1988, but when making a mixtape about 1988, even one that's started out as a project to document what I was listening to those years, I can't ignore the Pixies. "Where Is My Mind?" would have been another great choice from that album, but Kim Deal is as key to the band as Black Francis, and this is her best lead vocal performance on any Pixies record.
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Track 16
"Silver Rocket"
Daydream Nation
Sonic Youth
Most people think Daydream Nation is Sonic Youth's masterpiece, but on reviewing their catalog recently, I found myself thinking instead that their best album is this record's successor, Goo, which also happens to be their major label debut and which is therefore automatically excluded from consideration by some of their more militant fans.
But however you fall on the best album question, "Silver Rocket" and album opener "Teen Age Riot" are undoubtedly two of the band's best tracks, and having those two back to back to start a record certainly makes a statement. "Teen Age Riot" actually occupies a deeper place in my heart, but it's hard to envision sticking it in the middle of a mixtape, and it just wasn't the right way to kick this one off. So "Silver Rocket" it was.
Like Surfer Rosa before it, Daydream Nation is a record that I didn't actually hear until a few years after its release, which is going to become increasingly common the deeper we get into the year mixtape series. But it's almost impossible for me to pin down the exact date when I purchased an album like this (at least until the 2000s, when iTunes starts remembering pretty much everything I've done vis a vis my music collection).
I've tended to note when a song in this series was an exception to my original rule of only using songs that I actually owned and listened to the year they were released, but I think I'm done with that; all this stuff is in my collection and has been much-loved by me for a very long time, so it makes sense to just use the year of release as an organizing structure to frame my comments about my favorite music.
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Track 17
"Anchorage"
Short Sharp Shocked
Michelle Shocked
I have a complicated relationship with artists who are generally classified in the folk genre. Even the ones I really like——Iron and Wine, Bonnie Prince Billy, and occasional dabblers like Bright Eyes and and the Decemberists——are sometimes hard for me to take in long stretches, and there are certain parts of their catalogs that I avoid at all costs.
Michelle Shocked definitely falls into this category. A lot of her stuff (and granted, my exposure to her is limited because I'm not a huge fan) alternates between too cutesy and too earnest, and it gives off the kind of vibe that might get played for laughs in an SNL coffee house skit.
But every now and then she nails the sweet spot, and "Anchorage" might be the best song she's ever written.
In the past few years, Alaska has become known for crab fisherman and political lunacy, but back when I first encountered this song, I knew it mostly from my grandfather's tales of being stationed in Fort Greely, southeast of Fairbanks. It was a place where the everyday was not so ordinary, where a solitary day of fly fishing in the middle of a vast, unspoiled wilderness after being dropped off by a helicopter pilot buddy might be followed by a night of driving the kids down to the dump to watch the polar bears scavenge for food (my grandfather's wartime service was bookended by stints in the last two states to join the union; he was at Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941, and he spent a couple of years in Alaska after serving in WWII and the Korean war).
All of that is to say that Michelle Shocked's recounting of a letter from a friend in Anchorage captures some of that same sense of wonder that I had for the state back when the only things I knew about it were my grandfather's tales. I'd like to think most people will see the beauty in this song, but it will always mean something more to me.
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Track 18
"I'll Treat You Right Someday"
Monkey on a Chain Gang
House of Freaks
I actually owned this album in 1988, but not this song; I originally owned this on cassette, and it wasn't until the CD reiussue more than a decade later that this track was included (although a much different version was on House of Freaks' 1994 album Invisible Jewel).
If you know any song from this album, it's likely "40 Years", which was a college radio hit and even got some airplay on non-120 Minutes MTV (it's also, oddly enough, one of two songs on Monkey about the building of the atomic bomb, the other being "Dark and Light in New Mexico").
My favorite song on the original release, however, was "My Backyard", and in retrospect I can't remember why I chose "I'll Treat You Right Someday" for this mix over that song.
But I guess that's what I get for taking more than FIVE YEARS to write the notes for this mixtape. That's right, five years——I checked, and I posted the list of songs for the 1988 mixtape on October 17, 2005. I couldn't quite believe it myself.
So anyway. "I'll Treat You Right Someday" is the song I chose all those years ago, so it stays. But "My Backyard", in addition to actually being a track on the album when it was released, also touches more of the themes that House of Freaks would develop over their career——the tension between the community/family and the self, the idea of home and the longing for a sentimental past that never really existed, and how your personal history is always a part of the larger cultural history that preceded you.
I once wrote elsewhere about Bryan Harvey's lyrics that they're the closest rock music has ever come to Faulkner's gothic tales of the south, and I think that's still true (although relative newcomers Drive-By Truckers come pretty darn close).
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Track 19
"Chains"
Clam Dip and Other Delights
Soul Asylum
Poor Soul Asylum. They're seen as a joke now, going from rags to riches to rags again during the ridiculous alternative gold rush of the 90s, but at one time, they were legitimate critical favorites and indie upstarts with a passionate fan base. They were the mutant love child of Hüsker Dü and the Replacements (their first two releases were produced by Bob Mould, but the deeper the band moved into their career, the less they sounded like the Hüskers and the more like a tighter, more traditional rock version of the Replacements).
Their most successful album, Grave Dancers Union, was supposed to be their last; they band had for all intents and purposes broken up, but they owed one more album to the record company, and rather than pay back a portion of their advance they decided to crank out one more release. But it was 1992, and the feeding frenzy by both the radio programmers and the record buying public for any scruffy guitar-based alternative
band gave the band renewed exposure that led to hit singles "Black Gold" and "Runaway Train" while selling over three million copies of Grave Dancers Union.
But their greatest triumph was also their undoing, because the mainstream audience that made them stars didn't stay with them after the fad period was over (the follow up to Grave Dancers, Let Your Dim Light Shine, went platinum, but after that their records basically stopped selling), and their core audience didn't stick around for shenanigans like Dave Pirner's tabloid-worthy relationship with Winona Ryder and
a general shift in the direction of the band's music.
My first exposure to the band was through the full length Hang Time, which was also released in 1988. I must have been in quite the mood back in 2005 when I chose this track from the EP that was released after Hang Time, Clam Dip and Other Delights, because usually if it's a choice between an interesting but oddball EP or the first album I loved by a particular band to represent them for a given year's mixtape, I'm certain I'd choose a track from the album 99% of the time.
But "Chains" is one of my favorites, even though it's perhaps not the best representative for the band. Although, really, you could say that about a lot of their songs. That's the thing: you know a song is by Soul Asylum the second you hear it, but it's hard to pin down what they were, exactly. And maybe that's why, for a time, in between their attempt to become a Hüsker Dü cover band that happened to write their own material and when they became temporary major rock stars, I loved them in a way that only a smart, introverted teenager trying to figure out just exactly who he's going to be when he grows up can love a bunch of surprisingly literate smartasses who play in a band so they can pretend that they don't really care about anything.
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Track 20
"If I Was a Mekon"
Son of Sam I Am
Too Much Joy
There's something about Art Brut that reminds me of Too Much Joy——both bands share a not terribly great singer (I mean, in terms of singing——in terms of the personality they bring to the band, they're perfect), both use solid if not very original rock riffs as the basis for their songs, and there's something about each band that makes you question, when you're first getting to know them, whether they're a real band or sort of a joke, and whether you're going to be able to tolerate them for more than one album.
With Too Much Joy, that answer is yes, but just barely. I loved Son of Sam I Am (Too Much Joy are more willfully punny than Art Brut, both in their album titles and their lyrics) and its follow up, Cereal Killers, but didn't feel anything at all for Mutiny and stopped following the band's career after that (Art Brut also currently have two great albums and a middling third under their belt; I'm hoping they'll find a way to bounce back with their next release).
Son of Sam I Am is definitely the better record, before they got signed by a major label and started having dreams of being genuine rock stars (singer Tim Quirk——could he have a better last name for a band like this?——is recently famous for his essay about just how badly major labels screw the artists and how new streams of revenue from digital tracks just offer another opportunity for the labels to play games with the royalty checks). Their cover of L.L. Cool J's "That's a Lie" is one of the best hip-hop to rock covers in existence, but "If I Was a Mekon" gets the nod here because really, is there anything cooler than a song about the Mekons?
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Track 21
"Green Thoughts"
Green Thoughts
The Smithereens
The Smithereens had an illustrious start to their career with Especially for You, a retro throwback to pre-psychedelic 60s rock that sounded more like an undiscovered band from that period than a modern band aping the style. The critics loved them, their fanbase was growing, and they seemed like one of the few bands in heavy rotation on college radio who actually had a chance of crossing over to mainstream success in the pre-Nirvana era.
But with each successive release, their sound seemed like more and more of a shell of itself, until by album three (and for sure by album four, released in 1991), there didn't seem to be much point anymore. Not coincidentally, this is around the time that grunge went mainstream, which might have destroyed any relevancy they might have had left even if the quality of their music hadn't declined so steeply. Oddly enough, the band's Wikipedia entry claims that Kurt Cobain was heavily influenced by the Smithereens when writing Nevermind, something I had never heard before, and a factoid that I didn't read until after I had written the above paragraphs. I think I need to see a citation on this claim.
One of their problems, I think, was that the band started to believe in the possibility of becoming Rock Stars, which detracted significantly from their charm as a band, and certainly changed the tone of the songwriting and studio production for the worse. I saw them at the tail-end of their mainstream career, playing a decent-sized college venue, and they were doing all sorts of rock star shenanigans like running into the (mostly seated) crowd with their wireless guitars and trying to engage an audience that seemed more embarrassed for them than into their music. It was kind of sad, and if I needed any further proof that they were out of gas, that show certainly provided it.
Green Thoughts isn't too much of a slip, though——it doesn't hold up as well as Especially for You, mostly because of its bigger, slicker sound, but it holds up decently well, and "Green Thoughts" is a charming little slice of pop masquerading as a rock song. It might be the last great song they would ever write, so it's fitting that it not only closes out the last decent album they'd release, but is also the last we'll hear from them in this mixtape series.
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Track 22
"A New Season"
Starfish
The Church
Back when I started writing the entries for this mixtape in November of 2005(!), I might have had different things to say about this band and this song. But after I saw the Church live earlier this year, my opinion of them changed forever, and for the better. I'm still not completely sold on their more recent stuff, but as a live act, they were one of the best I've ever seen, and Marty Willson-Piper's guitar work on "Aura" was mindblowing.
The show I saw was one where they played three albums in their entirety, including Starfish. They played them from newest to oldest, so Starfish was the final record, and because "A New Season" is the penultimate track on that record, it was the second-to-last song that we heard. Even on this record, which might be the most stylistically diverse of their mainstream releases, "A New Season" stands out as something a little more off-kilter, a little more subtle than its companions, and hearing it live was as much a revelation as hearing the recorded version for the first time.
Three decades into their career, this band can still play——I can't emphasize how brilliant the performance was, even when they were playing songs that I didn't care for as much. But while what I know of their recent catalog is decent——not too removed from the sound they are known for, with some genuinely good tracks appearing now and then——I wish they could still write songs like this one. But even among the releases that I'm more familiar with and I like (the albums immediately before and after Starfish, along with the late 90s release Hologram of Baal), this song is pretty special.
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Track 23
"Untitled"
Green
R.E.M.
This entry has unexpected relevance now, as R.E.M. announced this week that they were breaking up after 31 years. I'll write more about them in the coming days, because I have a lot of personal musical history with this band, but this entry, the final one for the 1988 mixtape, will serve as a small preview of my reminiscing.
Among my circle of high school friends, Green was the album that officially marked the transition from R.E.M. as a college radio/indie band to a mainstream rock band. They had had a college radio hit with "Fall On Me" from Lifes Rich Pageant and a minor top 40 radio hit with "The One I Love" from Document, but Green had several top 40 contenders, including the annoying smash "Stand" (which was their biggest single up until that point). Suddenly the little band that had risen from obscurity in Athens to become a dominant force in the college rock scene was an honest-to-goodness Rock Band with fans who had no idea that Green was their sixth full-length release in as many years.
I had seen them on tour for their previous two albums at Cameron Indoor Stadium, the relatively cozy basketball arena where the Duke Blue Devils play. But for Green, they moved over to the Dean Dome, a true stadium-sized venue that the North Carolina Tarheels call home. It's not like I had front row seats for the shows at Cameron (although I was on the floor), but I remember how far away they looked at the Green concert, where we had only been able to get seats in the upper section. It was almost like we weren't at an R.E.M. show at all.
One of my close friends went with me to the Green show, and I remember we played a game where we counted the number of Document and Green songs they played versus songs they played from earlier in their catalog. If there were more Document and Green, we were going to deem the show a bad show; if there were more songs from their back catalog, it would be a good show.
For a while, it looked as if Green and Document would win handily, but then they went on a tear through older material at the end, and the back catalog ended up winning by a single song. But it still wasn't a great show; it just wasn't the R.E.M. experience that any of their older fans were used to or prepared for.
All of this is a roundabout way of saying that at the time, Green was somewhat of a disappointment, especially because as time went on, it's clear that it would serve as more of a template for their approach to songwriting than their earlier material. They still stunned me with Automatic for the People and the hugely underrated New Adventures in Hi-Fi, but this record was really the beginning of the end of classic R.E.M.
And while "Untitled" was different than almost any previous song of theirs, it had a simplicity and earnestness that recalled their earlier records; it left a good taste in your mouth even if the rest of the record didn't (although Green does have some other great tracks) and allowed you to hope that the band you loved wasn't gone forever.
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