Category: Music

Remember a few months back when I was on the fence about a particular guitar? Well, I’m not anymore.

I took the plunge and ordered an Ibanez PGM100 reissue from Guitarsmiths in Harrison. I find the blue and pink strangely appealing. For the historical context of this guitar’s appeal for me, you’ll have to watch this video and pretend you’re a 14 year old boy in 1990. Phil at Guitarsmiths gave me a great deal and even sent it to me before taking my credit card number.

The guitar at left is another $150 (with case!) Craigslist bargain. No more guitars for me for quite some time. But then I always say that…

Here are some recent things I’ve written for The Deli. (www.thedelimagazine.com)

Continue reading Recent Reviews

I always read people’s end-of-the-year review lists of music and secretly wish that I kept up with the pace of new music during the year, but honestly I never can. There’s so much to discover in the nooks and crannies of the recent past, and so the amount of music I discover in any given year that actually came out that year is like a snow cone on the tip of the proverbial iceberg. That said, here are some things from 2008 that wound my particular clock.

Steinski – What Does It All Mean? 1983-2006 Retrospective
Steve Stein is hip-hop’s Missing Link between old school rap and today’s collage-sample producers like Prince Paul and DJ Shadow. I wrote about this phenomenal album in-depth here back in July.

Spiraling – Time Travel Made Easy
I have a hard time finding enough great things to say about my favorite band. The new album is more laboratory-crafted syth-pop-rock with a proggy edge. “Victory Kiss” is the greatest radio single you’ll never hear. “Cold Open” is the best album intro (and title for an album intro) I’ve heard in a long time. And “The Future” is one of those songs I wish I’d written about how disappointing it is that we’re almost to 2010 and we haven’t made any headway into the life promised us by the movie 2001: A Space Odyssey, The Jetsons, the 1964 World’s Fair, or hell, even Back to the Future II[1].

Panic at the Disco – Pretty. Odd.
I know the young teenagers like this band a lot, but I don’t hold it against Panic. I still haven’t heard their first record, but this album shines like a thousand Christmas trees. Clearly they wanted to make a grandiose Sgt. Pepper statement with it. It may be the best sophomore record I’ve heard by any band since Jellyfish’s Spilt Milk.

Sonny Landreth – From the Reach
The world’s greatest slide guitarist goes the star-studded route, with help from Eric Clapton, Eric Johnson, Robben Ford, Vince Gill, Dr. John, and Mark Knopfler. I’ve been dying to see what Sonny and Eric Johnson might do on record, and “The Milky Way Home” does not disappoint.

Other fine releases from 2008: Take Shelter by Boondogs, Play by Brad Paisley, An Invitation by Inara George with Van Dyke Parks, and Other People by American Princes.

Pre-2008 music that I discovered for myself this year: Mew, Mika, Mulatu Astatké, Pelican, The Factory, The Nines, Henry Cow, Soft Machine, Hawkwind and Dada’s amazingly gorgeous final disc, How to Be Found. Honorable mention goes to the distinctly nonmusical but no less compelling Conet Project.

Albums I’m dying to hear in 2009: the new records from The Mercury Program, David Mead, Owen, and The Bird and the Bee.

1.) Although I have to say I’m impressed that my mom’s TV does display her caller ID so we’ll know not to pick up when Flea calls.

Here is a collection of my most recent scrawlings for The Deli:

Villa Vina
Tin Veil
The Secret Life of Sofia
Super 400

The AV Club’s yearlong feature Popless, in which Conway’s own Noel Murray takes a sabbatical from all new music listening to focus on weeding and reviewing his entire collection, is wrapped up, and I had to pass along this elegant crystallization of what it means to move into parenthood from mere adulthood:

And I’ve got no problem at all with music that’s soft, pretty—even wimpy. I’m a middle-aged family man. I have nothing invested anymore in being thought of as a badass.

This may be the very reason why my musical tastes are all over the map: I have nothing invested in being thought of as anything other than someone whose tastes are all over the map.

While I’d like to admit that I’ve never much cared for what people think about the music that I like, somewhere in college, as I was transitioning out of metal and guitar wizardry[1], I think I subconsciously was guided by the desire to be known as someone whose music collection had no borders, someone to whom nothing was musically off limits. Working at a college radio station, I saw a lot of people putting limits on what they could or should listen to or not. Indie/college rock demands that you not listen to a lot of things: 80’s rock isn’t cool, jazz fusion isn’t cool, mainstream pop isn’t cool, thrash metal isn’t cool[2]. I certainly wanted no part of that hierarchy of badassery. If loving Huey Lewis and the News and Megadeth is wrong, I didn’t want to be right. And I still don’t.

By the way, I cannot recommend more highly that you go back and read each and every weekly Popless entry to learn about a lot of music you’ve probably never had the time or inclination to listen to – here is the first installment of Popless. And here is the index of all the articles.

1.) Or more specifically, “being thought of as someone who was a guitar badass.”
2.) Except Slayer, because there’s a certain hipster credibility to Slayer, because Slayer is the scariest band most indie rockers have ever heard.

It starts with the impulse, the want. The desire to purchase music. The spark may come from a magazine, a memory, or wherever it is these miniature divine jolts come from[1]. Ooh-must-get-now.

And today there are two options for the cessation of this particular mania: download digitally or purchase physically.

For myself, the end result is currently the same. The music will live in my iPod and be played occasionally via iTunes. And yet, I find myself being drawn to Virgin Megastore[2] to seek out the packaged goods. There is a joy attached to the experience of purchasing the object. But this is music we’re dealing with. Sound. Shouldn’t the sound be the most important thing here? Shouldn’t the physical be largely irrelevant?

I feel like it should. I feel like 60 years or so ago, record companies got Americans hooked on a drug of sorts. The buying of a shiny shrink-wrapped disc is now an end to itself. We just don’t get the same jolt from clicking “Buy” on iTunes, although we do get the ameliorating bonus of instant gratification, so future generations likely will not suffer our 60-year affliction. I’ve even heard rumors that Virgin Megastore, the last great music retailer, may be ready to close up shop. Perhaps I should revel in some pre-retail-music-apocalypse excursions. Lord knows I did when Tower Records closed.

Maybe I should enjoy it while it lasts. It’s a cultural experience that is not long for this world. Sure, dusty specialty vinyl and used CD stores will be around for a long time before they metamorphose into antique malls and flea markets. By then I imagine I’ll be 70, telling my grandkids about “record stores” while admonishing them to take off their cybernetic implants and stop pronouncing OMG and LOL as if they were actual words. I won’t even bother to mention longboxes.

1.) The amygdala?
2.) Please understand this is only a place I go when I need to find something specific that I know they will have. The vast majority of my CD shopping is still adventure-based and/or bargain-oriented. Usually at Downtown Music Gallery, Ear Wax, or the various record shops in the Village.