A Fish of Cheese With the Head of Walt Whitman

April is poetry month and I wanted to kick it off with some brilliant, inspired lyrics proving that the musicians and songwriters and the true poets of our golden age. I didn't have anything set to post today but then I was playing Rock band 2 with Hott Mama (and killing it if I can be honest for a moment) when who should appear like a beacon on a foggy night? Dave Mustaine, a man sadly passed over year after year for Poet Laureate. Was he born in Canada or something for I can think of no other reason he has yet to receive this highest honor that all little heshers aspire to.

"Peace Sells" came blasting out of the teevee and we fumbled our way through it as best we could. I had never heard the song as I had vowed to never listen to Megadeth ever again after their ubiquitous mind-bender of a hit "Sweating Bullets" kept showing up on MTV back in the early 90s. I refused to give them any love even though they have some of the best album titles of all time such as Killing is My Business...And Business is Good! and So Far, So Good...So What? They tried to recapture this glory with 2007's United Abominations but without an ellipsis I just can't bring myself to care.

Well the song itself was pretty terrible, as I assumed it would be, but the lyrics were a sheer joy to hear. While I fake-drummed away and Hott Mama caterwauled along with Mr. Mustaine, I realised that Steve Albini is indie rock's Dave Mustaine. Here's the proof that they may have been separated at birth. 1. Both have odd, growly, speak-sing vocal styles. 2. They're both crotchety contrarians who always seem to be harshly judging all humankind, including their faithful audience members. 3. They both somehow come off as joyless and smirking at the same time.

Here's a sample of Dave Mustaine's brilliance when it comes to putting pen to paper followed by some audio samples of these long lost twins.

Peace Sells:
What do you mean, "I don't believe in God"?
I talk to him every day.
What do you mean, "I don't support your system"?
I go to court when I have to.
What do you mean, "I can't get to work on time"?
I got nothing better to do
And, what do you mean, "I don't pay my bills"?
Why do you think I'm broke? Huh?

Peace Sells - Megadeth

My Black Ass - Shellac

I Know You Can't Control Yourself Any Longer

I love lists. Listmaker loves lists. Most people love lists, especially music nerds. One list that often comes up as a topic with us music geeks is guilty pleasures. These are the kind of joys that would only bring shame and derision were they to see the cold light of day. Music snobs love to talk about this subject because there are serious cool points to lose depending on what circles you traffic in and how deeply affected your musical friends are. Hardcore punks are as rigid and fundamentalist as the worst of the religious right.

Over the years, I've softened on my uppityness and have embraced, or at least tried to, the entire world of music. Few things turn me off on principle alone and I try to give most anything a chance. Years ago, I realised how much I truly loved Journey and everything changed. Not "loved" in any ironic, so-bad-they're-good kind of sense but true joy. "Any Way You Want It" moves me as much as my favorite White Stripes songs and thanks to Rock Band 2 I now know how truly awesome it is to belt out that melody at the top of my lungs. After Steve Perry, the deluge. I stopped caring what was hot and what was not and started embracing all the cheesy artists I remembered from my youth and the walls came tumbling down.

I was talking about this the other day with Flapdoodle and Flapman and found myself at a loss for words. "What are your guilty pleasures?" they asked and I had a hard time thinking of any. There's very little I'm embarrassed to admit I like these days, as evidenced by my loud and proud crowing about Rush. I offered the new Kanye West album as something that's not really a guilty pleasure but more a surprise to some people who know me. They offered up Billy Joel and Hall & Oates, neither of which is really something to be ostracized for. I have selfmade best of cds in my collection for the music of Dave Matthews and Enya, both who are pretty embarrassing but I can't apologize for my enjoyment of some of their songs. Yes, there's little cool about either musician but something about them touch me in ways the 18 year old Gamera would retch at. So, there we were, at a loss for a true guilty pleasure until Flapdoodle came up with one that I dare anyone to trump - Miami Sound Machine. I don't even know their music very well but I'm sure if I liked them it would be a hard thing to admit openly. It kind of makes me want to investigate their back catalog.

Dr. Beat - Miami Sound Machine

Mighty Funny

As I've mentioned before, I read Magnet magazine and sometimes wonder why as its articles sometimes seem barely more than thinly veiled advertisements for tiny bands you've never heard of and, once you close the latest issue, you'll never hear of again. The cd is barely tolerable and always makes for a painful hour+ of listening. One of Magnet's saving graces is Andrew Earles who writes the ferociously catty "Where's the Street Team?" column in which he attacks the sacred cows of the indie world. Sometimes I wholeheartedly agree with him and other times he besmirches bands dear to my soul but it's always hilariously cruel and at times wonderfully specific about topics interesting to tiny pockets of people. The Nov. 2008 issue featured what has to be my favorite nerdy music joke since my guitar teacher asked me, "What do you call a drummer who breaks up with his girlfriend? Homeless." Here it is:

Q: How many members of Against Me! does it take to change a light bulb?
A: Against Me! isn’t going to change shit.

Perfection.

It's Not You, It's Me

I try to keep an open ear to all music but there are some bands I just don't get. Critically lauded bands. Musicians with legions of die hard fans who promote their songs on blogs and fill mixtapes with their music and spread the gospel like hardcore devotees are won't to do. And I try and I try and I try some more but I just don't hear what's so special. What am I missing?

Deerhoof is a perfect example. This band reminds me of the unholy offspring of the Jon Spencer Blues Explosion and anime for children. It seems amateurish and silly and entirely disposable yet review after review talks about how innovative and amazing they are. They have a song about basketball that Listmaker included on his latest volume and it confounds me just like the rest of their songs do but nothing is as odd as "Panda Panda Panda." This is what melts the heart of cynical critics nationwide?

Panda Panda Panda - Deerhoof

Another group I have no love for is the Hold Steady but apparently I'm an army of one when it comes to the ugliest band in America. I guess people love songs about young people drinking and fumbling around in the back seats of cars, making mistakes that they'll later regret. The Hold Steady allow the audience to relive the ugly and awkward periods of their life while pumping their fists and downing beer after beer. The music is competent but I just don't hear anything special here, especially in the nearly slam poetic vocal delivery of Craig Finn.

Stuck Between Stations - The Hold Steady

The latest group to bewilder and stun me is TV on the Radio. I liked some of their earlier songs but everything I've heard off of Dear Science sounds absolutely terrible to me. When I heard most of the album previewed on Bill Slammon's Saturday Morning show I thought, "Well, they've obviously lost whatever talent they had before and went off and made a crushing disaster of an album." But then it debuted at #12 on the Billboard charts and earned them near universal acclaim. What was I missing? The songs sounds like to many genres thrown in a blender and mixed until undrinkable. They were on SNL this past weekend so I stayed up to watch thinking that maybe the visuals would help. They did not. It still sounded cacophonous and busy for no reason (and I love cacophony and busyness) so I throw my hands up and leave defeated.

Dancing Choose - TV On The Radio

These bands have all bested me. I just don't get it. what am I missing? Maybe some day these will be my new top three as many of my favorite bands began with me not getting it and handily dismissing them. R.E.M., Neutral Milk Hotel and M. Ward all bored or confused me at first but now I have seen the error of my ways. Perhaps pandas and teenage boozehounds are the Anne Franks and auctioneers of the future.

They Should Have Stuck With Mookie Blaylock

I've been thinking about grunge a lot lately. Or should I say "Grunge." Maybe it's the cold weather and the need for long underwear, even when going to sleep for the night, but I've recently been revisiting the music that soundtracked my early teenage years. It all started, as most of my musical rethinkings do lately, with Rock Band. While playing this greatest of all games a few months ago, Alice in Chains' "Man in a Box" came up and even though I initially groaned, I quickly was won over by the song and its sludginess and nihilistic tone. Maybe enough time had passed and I was ready to delve back into the Seattle scene and dredge up all those memories of bad facial hair and drop D tuning. Maybe Tad were a band of genuises in retrospect and all I needed to do was take the time to rediscover them.

My interest quickly passed. I relistened to Soundgarden's Badmotorfinger and I liked it. I didn't fall back in love with it but it was enough to erase the painful memories of Audioslave and push me further down the flannel path. Next stop: Pearl Jam. Thanks to Eddie Vedder and Co., the journey was over almost as soon as it began. What an overrated dung heap of a band they are, with nothing but spotty albums, at best. Ten is atrocious most of the time, including the excruciating "Even Flow," a song that is in contention for worst single of all time. Everyone always talks about their third record Vitalogy as being a highwater mark featuring hit after hit but in reality it, like all of their other albums, is an absolute slog to get through. It is joyless music. Eddie Vedder is a brooding fun-vaccum, oftentimes in desperate need of a melody that just won't come. I listened to 5 of their cds and got so mad at them and the boring, boring songs that I ended my foray in the grunge world right then and there.

So today at work, for no reason I can figure out, Stone Temple Pilots's "Creep" drifted into my head. I haven't heard this song in years yet it was not an unpleasant visit. I found myself humming the "Take time with a wounded hand" chorus as I wandered around the building. Even in the early 90s my love affair with this band was brief but I still liked, and apparently still like, this song. It was a great ripoff of a slow burn Nirvana tune and that's good enough for me. I remember back when Core came out, I thought the first 15 seconds of album opener "Dead and Bloated" were the coolest thing ever. What a shock it was to hear that exact song on the radio on the way home tonight. I braced myself for the worst but it didn't come. Radio turned up, I listened intently and loved every second of this supercheesy intro, sticking around for the rest of the song which was so low end and gross that it reminded me of why I wanted to revisit 1992 in the first place. Who would have thought that 17 years later, Scott Weiland would trump Eddie Vedder?

Dead And Bloated - Stone Temple Pilots

I Think I Like the Jaw Disorder Better

Tomorrow night is band theme song night on the Battle. While searching for tunes that fit the bill this week I've been surprised to find how many there are out there. Gwar has one, which makes sense, but so do the Pipettes. Mothra and I are culling the best of the best for the show so tune in if you can. One song which I was sure I'd play is "Theme Song" by Too Much Joy but after revisiting it 10 years or so after my last listen, I can't bring myself to inflict such misery on the audience. I used to love this band, or at least I loved their third album Cereal Killers. It came out when I was 14 and seems perfectly suited to the juvenile concerns and sense of humor of a 14 year old. Their songs about pirates, Frankenstein and The King of Beers were just a hair cooler than "Weird Al" Yankovic and equally silly so I loved them instantly. Plus their jangly college rock sound went down smooth and easy. I sold all my TMJ cds long ago and never looked back although I've always had a special place for them in my heart. After listening to most of the album again, I'm slightly embarrassed for my teenage self and the guys in the group. It's way overproduced, there's some popping funklite basslines that haven't aged well and most mysteriously, there's a lot of growling in the vocals. A lot. It's pretty weird. Anyhow, here's the song that won't make the cut tomorrow night. I'm sure you'll agree that it's subpar at best and uncomfortably similar to Barenaked Ladies "If I Had $1,000,000" at worst.

Theme Song - Too Much Joy

The Band? Semi-Clever. The The? Grounds for Justifiable Homicide.

Are we nearing the point where all the good bands names have been taken? After more than 50 years of rock and roll, there can't be many more left that are worth anything, right? And if this is true, we should be worried about the fate of music in general since typically, a band with a horrendous name cannot rise to power. It's one of the laws of the universe. Tke The The for example. They wrote terrible songs and were never that popular but because they have the worst name ever - past, present and future - they will never make it into history books. Ask the next 5 people you encounter about this band and they will all give you either a puzzled look or show visible signs of pain. That's a guarantee.

I was in countless bands in high school and beyond and most of the names we had were terrible. Here's a sampling: Headrush. Tedium. Mitten. The Fonky Honkies. You get the idea. If you didn't know me, you would never heard of these bands and it's not simply due to the supreme lack of musical skill. The band names alone never would have allowed us to dominate the Billboard charts. The decision of what to name your band is a giant undertaking usually resulting in hundreds if not thousands of castoff options, interband battles of will and, quite possibly, exchanges of violence. Many bands breakup before even deciding on a name and the few that enter upon this nasty ritual typically crack under the pressure and end up choosing a name in a method similar to a game of Eeny Meeney Miney Moe. The Onion A.V. Club has once again featured the greatest bad band names of the year and its quite a hefty collection. What they've boiled down to six pages I've distilled even further into my top 11 choices, listed in no particular order. Each touches me in some special way and highlights what is only the tip of a very soul-crushing iceberg.

Crapulence
Vigo the Carpathian and the Thrash Money Millionairez
Post Mortem Bong Hit
Touched By a Janitor
Abracastabya
Carlos I’m Pregnant
Shitty Shitty Band Band
White Shoes and the Couples Company
Piss Pissedofferson
Teenage Waistband
Yam Cannon

Let Me See You Bounce To This

Democracy Now! is a well loved syndicated news program that focuses on non-mainstream news and stories often overlooked by the larger media conglomerates. It is hosted by Amy Goodman and Juan Gonzales, two incredibly serious and righteous individuals. WVEW, home base of Battle for the Earth, plays it daily at 5 pm, right when I leave work. I rarely listened to it in the past partially because I am in the mood for music when it's quittin' time but mostly because it's so damn depressing. I hated watching the news every day growing up because I felt it focused almost solely on the negative aspects of humanity and I couldn't stand all the hyperventilating and overblown noise that the news creates. Democracy Now!'s heart is in the right place and mostly in line with my politics but during the dark, dark Bush years, I would feel so helpless hearing Amy drone on endlessly about injustice after injustice but during the past few months, the glimmering hope that was Obama made my change my tune. Now if only they would change theirs.

I've been listening daily for the past two months and grew more and more excited as the election drew near and I felt the tide turning. I was happy about the prospect of some good news for once and even more ecstatic when I missed the atrocious theme song for the show. I only hear it once in a while but each time it's like a semi-funky ice pick to the brain. I have searched and searched the internet for the musicians who committed this crime against those with functioning eardrums but can't find the culprits. Why must this show, which features actually interesting and competent musicians during the short breaks on the program, have what is possibly the worst theme song ever? For such a left wing, progressive, intelligent news source, there must be someone there with the sense to end this bizarre cruelty to the audience. I deliberately walk slowly to my car to avoid this madness. I've posted a full show below but you really only need to listen to the first few seconds to hear what I'm incensed about. Please join my petition to get Amy and Juan to come to their senses. It truly is change we need.

I Shred Hot Fire

Hats off to Mothra for telling me about this amazingness. Jjosh recently posted the Shreds video of the perennially overrated Eric Clapton showing off his chops and since I was watching at work at not closely enough, I thought it was actual footage of the man losing his mind on stage. I now see the error of my ways. That's what I get for not clicking on the links. Anyhow, there's an entire series of these monsters out there where absolutely ridiculous noodling is overdubbed over footage of guitar masters rocking out. Jjosh says that Clapton is the hands down winner but I'm not so sure. There's so many brilliant moments here from Santana's starting declaration of "You're dead meat" to the keyboardist's solo take on Europe's classic "The Final Countdown" to the percussion madness courtesy of the drummer's furious snare rolls. It's 4 minutes of pure joy but I think my favorite section is from 3:20-3:35. Better than Clapton? Please discuss.



And just for kicks, here's another video that always satisfies.

The Delicious Taste of Bitter Bile

More work time revelations courtesy of the communal radio. The first is that I hate the harmonica, or at least I hate the way John Popper plays it. From my chair, which isn't terribly close to the radio, I can only hear the high end of songs which means that during "Runaround" by Blues Traveler, the harmonica solo appears unaccompanied, allowing me to focus on the sheer ridiculousness of it all. Now granted, it might make more sense in context with a backbeat and a harmonic foundation but from where I'm sitting, it's more grating than any blast of white noise I've ever been subjected to. It's all aimless fluttering and tweeting and a ghastly succession of runs up and down the harmonica making me wonder if Mr. Popper has somehow learned to be a human bagpipe, never needing to take a breath, always full of more air to push out assuring that his tuneless bleating will never have to pause.

The second revelation is that I was wrong, so wrong, when I thought that "Kokomo" was one of the worst songs ever written. Lazy, sure but worst ever? Not by a long shot. Hott Mama chided me on this a while back and it made me see the light. I can't say I like the song because the lyrics are insipid, the video is terrible, the damage it does to the Beach Boys legacy in inexcusable and the way it drills itself into your head is maddening, but it is not utterly horrendous. "What's Up!" by 4 Non Blondes however is a crime against music listeners everywhere, everyone hates it.

With "Kokomo," I was often met with mixed reactions when I professed my hatred for it because some people simply like to be whisked away to the sunny climes of Key Largo, Montego, etc. But nobody, literally nobody, has expressed anything but complete disdain for Linda Perry and her atrocious singing whenever I go on at length about this song, which is disturbingly often recently. This song puts me in a bad place and the worst part about it is it's tapeworm-like ability to implant itself and refuse to leave. Just hearing the title immediately gets the hellacious melody stuck in my head where nothing short of an icepick will remove it from my tortured brain. I try singing other, more pleasing songs to myself only to have it reappear again and again, refusing to die. A coworker sent me a link to this song today and ruined my morning. So if this is universally hated who are these people posting comments on YouTube? Here's a sampling:

whatisgoingoingon (19 hours ago)
I just love this song!thanks for this!Lulu

thenewgirlawakens (1 day ago)
Superb!! A song that has helped me alot in my life....Gave me hope...and strenght to not give up...
shoosh21 (5 days ago)
i LOVED and still LOVE this song. gees she was my idle when i was young!

KatheyAA (1 week ago)
OMG,I remember when this song first came out!!! I used to love the song!

kravmagiczka (1 week ago) the best 90's

surver2007 (2 weeks ago)
I love this song<3

These people can't be serious, can they? Isn't there any objectivity in music? Can't we all agree as a people that this is the worst musical atrocity ever committed on the public? If you can think of a worse song, please post it in the comments because I cannot think of anything that comes close.

Hulk Smash

I overheard a coworker talking about rock music today. Now I don't always agree with my coworkers' taste in music but I've come to a healthy place where I just swallow myself and allow the conversations around me to unfold as they normally would. No one wants a wet blanket always piping up saying, "You like this song?!?! Are you f-ing serious?!?! What could you possibly like about it? It is quite possibly the worst thing I have ever heard in my entire life and I grew up in a house where the Manheim Steamroller Christmas album was played on repeat!" So I keep my thoughts to myself. Actually, I quite like overhearing the conversations and though I occasionally disagree with their picks, they will often call me over saying, "They're playing your favorite song!" so I get up and run over the radio only to be pleasantly surprised that "Karma Chameleon" is getting some airtime. Yes, "Kokomo" does show up more often than I'd like but I've learned to enjoy the musical discussions of my coworkers and resist the urge to kill.

Until now, that is. Now, I grew up listening to rock but over the years I learned to appreciate most any genre of music and have a rabid obsession with music in general. But rock is my true love and I've re-realised that this past year as jazz and blues and more fall away and I watch rock rise to the top of my musical pile. I'm completely enamored with it in a way I haven't been in years. There was a fantastic Random Rules in the Onion A.V. Club a while back where they interviewed the drummer for Nada Surf about what was on his iPod. He describes himself as a "rock 'n' roll defender" and that's how I've felt lately. Maybe it's the countless hours spent playing the Guitar Hero collection and Rock Band but even cheesy classic rock sounds great to me now. Boston? Yes sir! ZZ Top? Gimme some more! Aerosmith? Mountain? Well, I didn't say I've lost all objectivity. Anyhow, I'm in love with rock and don't want anyone besmirching its good name.

So I overhear my coworker dismissing rock music as worthless. "There have been so many great essay written about the utter dreck that is rock." "It's just 2 chords over and over and appeals to the lowest common denominator." "The only reason it's written is for commercial purposes and therefore it's another example of the sad decline of humans." I was ready to kill. I spent the next 20 minutes stewing in my seat, creating arguments in my head about the various intelligent people who have fought for the respect of rock music, the numerous nerdy, math rocky, proggy bands that know 3, possibly 4, chords or the musicians who turn complex short stories into song lyrics and concept albums. How dare this person say such hurtful things? Then I realised that rock music doesn't care and these stupid statements weren't aimed at me or my record collection so I should just let it go. It was just another example about how the things that stress me out in life are typically the silly issues like this and the real problems of the world barely enter my consciousness. While the world frets about genocides and viral epidemics, I wage war against people who badmouth reality tv and anyone who even considers seeing "Be Kind Rewind." It was a good chance to check myself before I wrecked myself and accidentally fired someone. I've since calmed down a little bit about it but writing this entry has me all fired up again. I mean, seriously, who in their right mind would say something so hurtful like that?

Taking One For the (Street) Team

I subscribe to Magnet magazine. It's subtitle is "real music alternatives." See that clever use of alternative? They're not coming right out and saying it's a magazine solely devoted to Alternative Music because that's so 1994 but it's there and you and I both get the hint. It's a pretty lame magazine in a lot of ways. The cover photos are always, ALWAYS, horrendous and ugly. They are often super close ups of people who are already a bit odd looking and they use terrible lighting and show off every pockmark and pore and we often have to flip them over so as not to scare the children. The non-feature articles are rarely more than one page advertisements for bands with no real journalism or insight, simply positive platitudes that are guaranteed to offend no one. They do have a nice sense of rock history, especially the dusty corners of college rock and post punk ,and oftentimes have interesting essays on various genre chronologies or overviews of a specific band's entire career. You take the good, you take the bad, you take them both and there you have Magnet magazine. But hands down the worst thing about it is the sampler cd that accompanies each issue. Unlike Q or Mojo or any of those other overpriced journals that come packaged with a cd, the Magnet sampler's ties to the current magazine are tenuous at best. Most of the bands on the thing aren't even mentioned in the entire issue and 90% of them you've never heard of in your life. Nor should you have because they almost always suck royal eggs. Who are these people and why is anybody allowing them to make music? It's truly a shockingly bad listen every single time. I haven't made it through one from start to finish in years but tonight I will, no skipping, no fast forwarding. I submit myself to this torture to test my own fortitude and to document each step of the journey as I investigate the utter worthlessness of the Magnet sampler cd.

Volume 48 - Before I even start it I peruse the song list to see who may look even the slightest bit familiar to me. Of the 19 bands featured on this masterpiece, I have only heard of one. One of the groups is named after a Cure song and the rest are no more promising.

1. Fiskum "Tom Waits' Bar and Grill" - Oh what misery this title foretells. Dan Fogelberg meets the Crash Test Dummies while digging through James Taylor's trashbin. Thanks Melodypig Records for kicking it off with a strangled whimper of a song. Next!
2. Racetrack Babies "The Messenger" - Like American Analog Set's "The Postman" but without anything even remotely approaching a melody line or a beating heart. Soulless rock written by the corpses of beer ad session musicians.
3. The Alphabetical Order "Constant State" - 4th generation Sunny Day Real Estate ripoffs who seem equally influenced by the last Matchbox 20 album. Who let them in the studio?
4. Jeremy Larson "A Neutral Conclusion" - Heavy synth action gives way to programmed beats and pounded piano chords. It's not my cup of tea but it's the first song on this sampler that doesn't make me want to weep for the future of music.
5. When Thunder Comes "Calm Before the Storm" - I hope you like the wah-wah pedal because When Thunder Comes loves it. A lot. Seriously, it's like the second coming of Swervedriver.
6. Rooney "I Should've Been After You" - Hey, I know this band! They have some great pop songs on their first album and some great haircuts. This somehow reminds me of Journey, which isn't a terrible thing, but it is a bit unexpected. There's some serious Styx influence here as well. Handclaps, harmonies and 70s keyboards will always put a smile on my face.
7. Crack the Sky featuring John Palumbo "Safety in Numbers" - I was going to skip this one but then I saw it features John Palumbo and didn't dare. All the John Palumbo fans in the audience say "Aye!"
8. The Trolleyvox "I Call on You" - Are we really out of good band name options? Because this band was obviously forced to scrape the bottom of the barrel for this one. Boy that guitarist likes to wank around whether the vocalist is singing or not. Someone reign him in for the love of Pete.
9. One for Jude "Et Moi" - I'm surprised this is actually in French. I'm not surprised that it's pretty dreadful since it is a song on the Magnet sampler and all.
10. Vulture Whale "Baby in the Oven" - OK, we may be officially out of band names at this point. The song title is super-awesome however and I'm going to give this one an actual listen. Too bad the tune is back-breakingly awful although pleasantly short.
11. Mist and Mast "Turn Into the Turn" - It seems everyone has a record label these days, even the Oakland Petting Zoo who today bring us this strangely non-sucky Pinback-lite piece. These guys must be the ones who make sure the goats don't eat anyone's pants or mount any of the smaller children.
12. John Parkes "Second Golden Age of Protest" - Hard hitting political righteousness. Turn off your CNN and turn on some John Parkes. (That phrase is yours if you want it, Mr. Parkes, for a small fee).
13. Anton Sword "Maybe It's Begun" - I've stopped paying attention by this point. It's one giant melting marshmallow of bland. The kind of sampler you'd expect to find packaged in a loaf of Wonder Bread or box of Velveeta.
14. Hoax Funeral "Melting (Into Corners)" - Don't let the faux-poetic title fool you. These goofs have nothing to say. Kristen Hersh with less crazy and more embarrassing lyrics. I don't mean to keep comparing everyone to other, better bands but it's easy shorthand to describe songs you will never hear in your lifetime and it's probably more interesting than simply writing "another slab of crap" for each track.
15. Racoon (sic) "Laugh About It" - How many singer-songwriters with an acoustic guitar and a heart full of song are there in this country? And how many people actually seek out this sort of music? At this point, it seems like we must be at a 1:1 musician-to-fan ratio. Can't someone put a cap on this outpouring of emotion and stop the madness before the coffee shops are supersaturated with these jokers?
16. Charlotte Sometimes "How I Could Just Kill a Man" - I assure you, this sounds absolutely nothing like you'd predict from the band name/song title combo. It's basically MOR dancepop that you'd hear on your local mix station and not at all the Cure-influenced mope rock or hardcore hip hop I was expecting. This band is on Geffen. How is that possible?
17. Giancarlo Vulcano "3x3, No. 2" - Madagascarish guitar instrumental? Why not? The Magnet sampler likes to keep it fresh.
18. Palumbo "Hey, Mr. President" - No shit, this song is sung by a child and contains brilliant lines like "Hey, Mr. President/Where are you eating tonight?/Are you hungry like us?/Little people on the outside" and "Jesus and Mary are watching you/From their window in the big sky?Wondering what you're gonna do" and my favorite, "We're the dogs of Dog City."
19. Konrad "Shapeshifting Marathons" - It's always nice to end a cd with out of tune singing.

One of the best things about these compilations is their total disregard to listenability. Songs are put in a random order so that wildly disparate tunes rub up against each other and awkward juxtapositions are the norm. They don't flow at all nor do they have a strong leadoff track or appropriate last track. They throw all the shit in a blender, pour it out and send it to their subscribers every other month. If they so obviously don't give a damn about the sampler, why should I? I guess the money they get from the labels to feature these songs keeps the subscription price down but it hardly seems worth it to end up clogging landfills with such terrible sounds. This may have been the worst one yet. I would say worst ever but I have confidence that they'll one up themselves next time around but I can assure you, I won't make this same mistake again. It has been a truly painful evening leaving me with the same hateful feeling towards music that I get when searching through the $3 cd bin at a used record store. Who are these people and why are they compelled to make music? Congratulations, Magnet sampler. You've done it again.

Robots Singing in 3 Part Harmony

If you were brave enough to watch the Zapp and Roger and/or Chromeo videos posted on Valentine's Day, you may have been wondering something. Well, you were probably wondering a few things and to answer your first question, yes, I genuinely enjoy both those songs. If you somehow missed them in the haze of chocolate covered cherries and avalanches of rose petals, I command you now to check them out. You won't be sorry you did and they will prepare you for the following lesson in voice manipulation. Seriously, check them out, they are amazing and I've got nothing but time.

All set? Good. Now you may be asking yourself, "What is the deal with Chromeo?" I have no idea. It all seems like an absurd joke and that guy's moustache is super creepy but the brilliance of the song is undeniable. You may also be thinking, "Why do both videos feature men with tubes in their mouth?" I wondered that too, decided to do some research and discovered something that completley shocked me and made me question the basic fundamental principles of the universe. These vocalists are not using vocoders as I always assumed. Those tubes are part of a magical device called a talk box. The talk box reproduces sound from an amplifier through the tube and directs it into a performer's mouth. By changing the shape of their mouth, they change the sound of the instrument being filtered through the talk box. It was famously used by Peter Frampton on the Frampton Comes Alive! album and allowed Richie Sambora to make that awesome "Waaaaaaaah!" sound in "Livin' On a Prayer." Without the talk box, Bon Jovi might still be just a bar band. Talk box, I thank you.

Check out Mr Frampton rocking it in the modern era. It's thankfully short so I promise it will be over before the Deep Hurting starts:


So what's a vocoder then? A vocoder is a combination of a speech analyzer and a synthesizer that allows keyboards to sing like robots. Vocals are transmitted and filtered through an instrument (typically a keyboard) where they can be manipulated and modulated as much as the performer wants. Without the vocoder, the world would be devoid of the majesty of Kraftwerk and we would sadly be without footage of this guy and his keytar:

A Plea for Forgiveness

Look at these gorgeous British lads. The top 4 look like any shaggy group from the 70s although sporting less facial hair. But check out that freaky dude on the bottom. He alone tips them from rock band over the cliff into the land of prog rock. What is going on here, Mr. Gabriel? How do you go from this (granted it's not a great start) to "Sledgehammer?" And you, Mr. Collins. How do you go from Genesis' bib overall wearing drummer to lead singer of the group that produced grade A stinkers like "I Can't Dance" and "Land of Confusion?" It's a pretty stunning decline from the glorious prog rock majesty of Foxtrot and Selling England by the Pound. Those albums are truly incredible if you can stand 23 minute suites about Revelation with passages in 9/8 time or songs about characters named "Bob the Knob." The 80s were not kind to the members of Genesis. Just ask Mothra about the travesty that is "Red Rain" and you will be met with a series of guttural groans and a diatribe on the utter worthlessness of Peter Gabriel. Phil Collins won over no one with his acting gig as the lovable scamp "Buster" in the titular film and Mike Rutherford was responsible for "The Living Years," which somehow reached number one on the Billboard charts. Please don't judge them on these sad statistics or that embarrassing picture alone and give their noodly indulgent years a chance. I promise you'll like them more than "Throwing it All Away." How could you not?

Linda Perry is the Devil

I have this little co-worker CK. She is small and very funny. She likes to sing along with the radio. She even likes to sing along when the radio is not on. Her voice is not great and often it is pretty atonal but her enthusiasm is boundless and genuine and it wins me over almost every time. The radio listened to here at work is not my choice and it typically ends up on some sort of mix station where the songs I like come as often as a bullet in Russian Roulette. There are a few songs that pop up now and then that are now off limits for sing-alongs per my request. These include, but are not limited to: "Kokomo" that infernal late period hit by the Beach Boys. "Everybody Wang Chung Tonight" an inexplicable hit from the 80s when seemingly every other song in the top 40 was some bizarre experiment which would rightfully never see the light of day in today's pop market. Say what you will about the sorry state of modern radio but at least we don't have to be inundated with nonsense like Wang Chung unless of course you are stuck in mix station land, as I am, where they seem to think this is still a great tune. One last song I want to point out as a guaranteed day ruiner is that goddamn "What's Goin' On" song by 4 Non Blondes. Everyone hates it. Everyone. Trust me, I asked around, but once it gets stuck in your head, it will bury itself like a tick and not even tweezers and rubbing alcohol will remove it. The stubborn chorus will stay behind, leaving you with those mind numbingly bad lyrics playing on repeat as you wish your collection of pens and pencils also had an icepick to jam in your ear. This one came on today and instantly was added to the "Do Not Sing" list but because Satan wrote it with a perfect understanding of how to write a melody that will embed itself into one's brain, CK found herself singing the chorus over and over again very loudly. As annoyed as I was to hear it again it paled in comparison to the self hatred it stirred in her. It's one thing to sing songs others hate but to find yourself singing a song you yourself hate - that truly is the work of the devil.