Bye-Bye Lala: Albums I’ve Listened to on Lala.com, part IV

Well, this is the last day of Lala.com.  To bid it a fond farewell, I’m going through a chunk of albums that I used to have, but don’t anymore and haven’t listened to in years.  A couple decades, in some cases.  While preparing for this entry, I noticed that the music in my life is divided into several eras, each one marked by a dramatic shift in what music was in my collection.  To be extra nerdy, I’m going to be LOTR about it and call them “ages.”

The First Age: The Beginning

1. Wilson Phillips–by Wilson Phillips.  Many people would be embarrassed to admit what I’m about to admit, but I was shamed and humiliated so much by the time I graduated high school, it’s just really hard to do that to me anymore.  Especially when it comes to music.  This was the first album I ever owned.  My grandma bought it for me for the hefty price of $10 at the Sam Goody in White Oaks Mall back in the summer of 1990.  I was ten.  Go easy on me, I’ve always been a sucker for vocal harmonies.  I’m listening to it as I write this . . . and my goodness this is the very definition of early 90′s adult contemporary.  To the last detail–the way the harmonies are done, the keyboard effects, the bass guitar effects, the heavy reverb on the drums, and the painfully unoffensive execution of the vocals.  They could not have sounded more tame when the three of them sing that they want to be “impulsive” and “reckless.”  And lastly . . . I’m a little scared about how many lyrics I remember.  And who knew they covered a Rod Stewart song?!  Yeah.  Rod Stewart wins that competition.

2. Flesh & Blood–by Poison.  Now we can get started for real.  These guys were my first official “favorite” band.  I had friends my age that liked some of Poison’s contemporaries–Winger, Warrant, Guns n’ Roses; I even had some cousins that were huge Motley Crue fans.  But Poison was my band.  I started with the single cassette for “Unskinny Bop” and ended up buying this on tape probably a few weeks later.  I also eventually got their previous album Open Up and Say . . . Ahh.  But this album was epic then.  And it is at the bottom of my list of good 80′s hair metal, now.  They have a lot of blues and country influence in their sound.  Sometimes it’s hidden and sometimes it’s not.  That’s perfectly okay, but I remember these guys being a lot more “hardcore” than they really were.  I don’t doubt there’s lots of people out there with a much clearer memory of the early 90′s than I do that would say “duh” to all of that, but it’s kind of shocking to me.

The Second Age: Christian Rock

3. Change Your World–by Michael W. Smith.  How interesting that these two music eras of my life both started with ridiculous early 90′s contemporary artists.  I got it for the Christmas of 1992, and at the time I had somehow lost my First Age cassettes and wasn’t into music that much.  I got the tape and remembered how much I liked having music as a part of my life, so I listened to it and (at the time) liked it a lot.  Now I’ve listened to it as a near-30-year-old.  It reeks of all that was awful about that 1989-1993 time stretch.  (Side note: has anyone ever stopped to think about the irony that people who were adults at that time probably looked back at their fashion choices in the 70′s and thought, “What were we thinking?”)  Like Wilson Phillips, Smith makes extensive use of reverberated drum kits and cheesy bass guitar effects.  Yet he draws an awful lot more from African-American gospel and pop, complete with choirs and MC’s in some of his songs.  I’m going to be sure to avoid this album in the future, not just because I don’t care for it anymore, but because I had “Picture Perfect” going through my head every morning for a week afterward.

4. Scarecrow Messiah–by Bride.  As with the First Age, I started with a single contemporary album, but quickly moved into rock.  This time around, though, it was mostly Christian rock.  I fell hard for Bride when I heard their album Snakes in the Playground, and for the record that album STILL rocks like no other.  But I’ve been listening to my autographed Snakes cassette off and on for the last 18 years, so it doesn’t fit with the theme of this blog.  Instead, we turn to Bride’s follow-up to Snakes, the incredibly bland Scarecrow Messiah.  I think upon the release of this album, it was the first time I was already a big fan of a band and they released a new album.  I liked Scarecrow when it came out (though I always thought Snakes was better), but now I really don’t think it’s that good at all.  With two exceptions, the “Superstition”-esque “Place,” and the upbeat and brass-filled “Time,” the songs are pretty weak.  And “Dadmom” has to be the weirdest attempt at a normal song I’ve ever heard.  I can handle heavy songs about loving Jesus and doing good, and I love fast songs, but songs about loving mom and dad?  That’s a good message and all but it’s kind of like putting whipped cream on my steak.

The Third Age: Grunge and Alternative

5. Purple–by Stone Temple Pilots.  This is cheating a little bit, as I’ve heard this album as recently as 7 years ago, but I didn’t listen carefully.  It was the album that ended my Christian hair-metal era of Guardian and Bride and brought me into the (then) current mainstream of the Grunge era.  My big brother (a heavy contributor to my early musical tastes) had the opportunity to go to an STP concert and meet them backstage.  The next day he and I watched some STP Unplugged, and I was hooked.  There’s a lot of Grunge that’s become as dated as flannels and undercuts, but this album is timeless.  I really like being able to listen to their guitar work and now, as a guitar player, really appreciate their style.  The singles from this album are all great, but my favorite is still probably “Army Ants.”  I like fast songs, what can I say?

6. Dookie–by Green Day.  Another Christmas present, received via big sister in late 1994.  I had this on cassette and listened to it a ton for probably 3-4 months, and not much longer after that I switched to real punk rock (in fact, it was a year after THAT when I heard that Green Day was apparently a punk band; could have fooled me).  Now?  I was bored pretty fast.  “Basket Case” is still catchy.  “Burnout” is a good opener.  But everything else just seemed to dry up quickly for me.  But I cannot decide if I like or loathe Billy Joe’s voice; I hate it when OTHER bands try to do that nasal-and-throat-fake-english-accent-kind-of thing, but this guy is the one who coined it.  Oh, and did he really say, “I went to a whore, HE said my life’s a bore?”  That’s always weirded me out.  Maybe he meant it that way.

The Fourth Age: Punk and Ska

7. Ninety Pound Wuss–by Ninety Pound Wuss.  When I made the switch to being a full-blown punk fan, I had a small issue on my hands.  While I liked a lot of the political attitudes of the music, I didn’t line up with the religious views (or lack thereof) of many of my favorite bands.  There was Christian punk, but it was really just MxPx and their clones.  It was tiring trying to find a decent punk band that was Christian and wasn’t trying to be Green Day.  Then I heard Ninety Pound Wuss.  This album became a frequent visitor to my Discman.  I hadn’t listened to this album too much after 1998, as my collection at the time was growing, and then in 2000 all my CD’s were stolen out of my car, and I never got this one back.  Well, one Lala listen later and I can tell you that this album will still kick you in the face.  It’s fast, it’s harsh, and it’s loud.  It’s perfect.  Also, it’s neat to listen to this album now and know where Shelton and Olympia are.

8. Act Your Age–by Home Grown. Here’s another one that I listened to a ton for many months, then I just grew tired of it and put it away . . . and then my CD’s got stolen, and I all but forgot about it.  I was honestly expecting this album to be very poor, but for what it is, it’s not bad at all.  They’re by-the-numbers, for sure, but it’s still fairly early enough in the game in 1998 that they can get away with it.  Easy melodies and harmonies, heavy guitars in predictable progressions, catchy riffs, and goofy and snarky songs.  Awful singers, really, but they harmonize well.  Which is weird but true.  Speaking of their songs, I wonder if they had ill feelings about the song “She’s Anti” a year after this came out, when the Columbine Massacre happened.  They seem to make light of a girl killing cheerleaders and football players, and it didn’t phase me at the time, either, but now it seems a little too tragic of an idea to sing about in a I-V-vi-IV progression.  But “Grow Up” is still the best song on here by far: great harmonies, fast drums, heavy guitars.  Great stuff.

9. Heads Are Gonna Roll–by The Hippos.  Of all the CD’s I lost in The Great Car Theft of October 2000, this is the one that I can’t believe I haven’t repurchased.  I didn’t even need the listen on Lala to realize this (though I’m not sorry I did).  This album, along with albums like Catch 22′s Keasby Nights, is a swan-song of the third-wave ska era.  There were some classics that defined the early part of that 1994-2000 time-frame, but the ones that get the least attention are the great ones like these that played us out.  Plus, The Hippos started taking their sound in a new direction and mixed strong elements of synth-pop into their songs; there’s honestly nothing else truly like this album.  I had their first album and they sounded a lot like a Reel Big Fish clone.  That kind of turned me off.  If it wasn’t for this sophomore masterpiece, I would have forgotten them along side other 2nd-rate ska bands of the time like Spring Heeled Jack or The Eclectics (who?).

Well . . . that’s it for these posts, and that means that’s it for Lala.  It’s been fun.  Now I need to start budgeting for a CD splurge.

Critiquing the Critics, part I

In the months I’ve spent unemployed since September, I honestly wanted to spend time at the gym and playing guitar.  What ended up happening was I discovered a lot of very fun websites.  I’ve also discovered that I have a weakness for video reviews of movies and video games.  This started when a friend told me about a 70-minute The Phantom Menace review.  Well, I looked for it on You Tube, and found a 30-minute review.  Thinking I found what my friend was talking about, I watched it, liked it, and kept watching.  I later found out that the Episode I review about which I was told was by a different person, so I found that one and subsequently melted in awe.  Further searching for these kinds of videos led to another discovery of a guy in glasses complaining about kid’s movies.  Genius.

I’ve been following these three sites for a while, now, and have decided to share my thoughts on them.  I will discuss each individually in three separate posts (so to avoid what I like to call dangit-Braden-why-are-your-posts-so-long-all-the-time-ism).  Also in each, I’ll share some videos and rank certain aspects of what they do:

MR. PLINKETT (Red Letter Media)

Critiquing Skill: 10/10
Humor Quality: 9/10
Production Quality: 10/10
Frequency of Updates: 1/10

You might have heard of this guy, recently.  He did the 70-minute Star Wars: Episode I review, and then followed that up with a 90-minute Episode II review.  Mr. Plinkett is a character played by Mike Stoklasa of the website RedLetterMedia.com.  Apparently that site has a lot of other stuff on it besides Plinkett, but I’ve not cared enough to check it out (plus I don’t want to risk seeing Stoklasa doing the Plinkett voice on screen, it would just ruin my life).  Stoklasa explained that the character is done because he can’t really talk as in-depth about science fiction movies in his normal voice without sounding like a complete tool, so he does Plinkett to make it more “palatable.”

As you might be able to tell by the numbers up there, I don’t think there’s much bad that can be said about him, unless you take issue with the . . . *ahem* rape and serial killer jokes.  Okay, so his humor might upset some people, and I certainly won’t knock them for being put off.  But if we put that to the side just for now, please let me submit that this guy is one of the best analyzers of film and storytelling I’ve ever heard.  He makes it so easy to want to dismiss him as a total moron with the inappropriate jokes and the creepy voice, or a worthless geek who takes his sci-fi movies too seriously, but if you pay attention to what he says, you’ll be amazed at the insight he provides.  There are certain things that make a good movie good, such as respecting the intelligence of the audience, constructing a coherent story, developing interesting characters, etc.  There are tricks that movie makers do to draw in audiences (which can be used for good or evil) that we don’t always catch.  Plinkett points them all out, and one feels like a smarter viewer of movies after watching one of his reviews (again, once/if you can get past the voice). On top of all of that, he’s got some very well-scripted acting parts, as well as decent actresses performing in his videos.  Nothing feels awkward or forced.  Keep that in mind when you realize he only does a new review once every several months.  They’re such large-scale productions that he needs time.  This makes them worth watching many times, but it’s hard to follow his site like I do other sites.

While the Star Wars reviews are his most celebrated, and I’ve heard his Star Trek reviews are equally as good (I’m waiting to watch those movies before I see his reviews; they’re in queue), I hold a special place in my heart for his review of the disgustingly over-praised Avatar.  Plus it’s a LOT shorter than the Star Wars reviews (only 20 minutes), so it’s easier to take in.  Enjoy:

_________________________

Explanation of scored categories:

Critiquing Skill:  How insightful are they?  Can they provide objective support for why they say something is bad or good?  Are their issues with a particular film based out of misunderstandings, a lack of paying attention?  Or are they based out of something genuine?
Humor Quality: How funny are they?  Most, if not all, internet video critics attempt at some form of humor.  Are their jokes cringe-worthy and cliche, or are they genuinely funny?
Production Quality: How good is their editing?  How do they handle their segments vs. clips from the movie, etc?  If there is added dramatization or acting involved, is it any good?
Frequency of Updates: An entertaining site is one you can visit fairly regularly and have something new to see on most visits.  How do they fare?

Bye-Bye Lala: Albums I’ve Listened to on Lala.com, part III

This is officially my last work day with Lala.  This makes me very sad.  My other music site was Finetune, but that’s been rendered impotent for a couple of years now, I think (my playlists are still there, but I can’t listen to them).  I’m pretty much left with Pandora (which gets old REALLY fast) or Grooveshark, which is not nearly as good as Lala, despite its praise from my friends.  It’s content is similar to Napster and Kazaa in that you sometimes can’t find every song on an album, they’re listed out of order, and sometimes the sound quality is poor.  I’ll have to make due somehow, I suppose.  If you know a better site than these for listening to free music, link me up.

One of the problems of being a music fan is that it can get expensive, and there’s nothing worse than spending your hard-earned money on a CD that turns out to be awful.  Back pre-2003/04, I would often buy a CD by a band based off of nothing more than someone I knew with similar tastes to mine mentioning them, or wearing their shirt.  Sometimes I took that leap of faith and was rewarded, and other times it turned out to be quite a bad move.  Most of the time, however, I would just be too nervous to go through with the purchase without knowing what I was getting.  Due to this fact, there is a very long list of albums and bands that I always meant to check out but never could.  On other sites (i.e. Finetune and, to a smaller extent, Pandora) I was able to look into some of those groups and records a little bit, but my selection was always limited or out of my control (but for the record, Finetune.com made it possible for me to fall in love with The Smiths; thank you, Finetune . . . thank you).  Here are some thoughts on a few albums and bands that Lala gave me the chance to finally check out, after years of looking or dodging.

1.  Analphabetapolothology–by Cap’n Jazz.  My history with this band is similar to my history with The Promise Ring.  How fitting that Davey Von Bohlen was in both bands.  The first song I ever heard by them was “Basil’s Kite,” which was on a mix tape a friend sent me when I was a senior in high school.  I didn’t care for it too much.  Years passed, however, and my tastes changed and I ended up loving The Promise Ring, so I wondered if I could like Cap’n Jazz.  I’d find a song here or there and realized I did, but never had the guts to just outright buy the album.  Well now I’ve listened to nearly the whole thing (it’s 34 songs long, and I made it through 25 or 26–I’d say I did pretty good), and this is on my “buy soon” list.  Every song is rife with “bad” vocals, weird instrumentation, and tons and tons of fun.  I find that when decent-to-good musicians get together and have a good time, they’re infinitely better than hardly any other arrangement.  That’s what Cap’n Jazz was.  Also they were very young.  I think the drummer was 13 when this band formed, and most, if not all, of them were still under 21 when the majority of this anthology was recorded.

2. Mutiny Pop–by The Copyrights.  These guys are from my college town, and I only have their first album, We Didn’t Come Here to Die (and I have the ORIGINAL cover!).  They’re stripped-down pop punk that immediately reminds people of The Ramones, but if you know your punk a little better you’ll think more along the lines of Screeching Weasel.  Simple riffs and basic chord progressions that build in catchy verses and anthemic choruses.  One of the things I truly appreciate about these guys is their commitment to not deviate too much from that style.  Quote from lead singer/bassist Adam Fletcher: “ . . . we know what our boundaries are, we’re not gonna try to write something that’s like me singing with a piano or something. We’re not gonna [...] try to progress to a point where we leave people behind. . . .”  All of that said, when one knows they like a certain kind of rock, such as (true) pop-punk, then you know you like The Copyrights, and you’ll know you like this album before you even listen to it.

3. Homework–by Daft Punk.  Sometime back in the late 1990′s I was looking for CD’s at Best Buy, and the album cover for Daft Punk’s Homework caught my eye.  More specifically, it was the word “punk” that did it.  I was looking for punk rock, and here’s a band with that in their name.  On one hand–it might be just that.  On the other hand–good punk bands would never advertise their punk affiliation in their band name like that.  That would be like a heavy metal band having the word “metal” in their name somewhere; what a stupid idea.  So I avoided it, but kept seeing it and was always a little curious . . . then one day I saw the video for “Around the World” and knew immediately that my move was a good move.  As is the story with so much other music, a lot of time passed and I began to wonder if my changing tastes had changed enough for me to like these guys.  Well, I got the chance on Lala to find out.  And . . . Homework is an okay album.  It suffers from what, in my opinion, makes a lot of house and beat music weak: too much repetition and not enough variety in sounds.  However, I want to mention that if you listen to Daft Punk’s 2001 album, Discovery, after listening to this one, you’ll be blown out of your socks.  These guys have serious talent; this album is just a little too early-days for me.

4. Never Ender–by Hot Water Music.  I can’t figure out why these guys were called emo.  They’re more of a hard-edged post-punk.  This is a good album, but I’m not convinced I would have been happy with had I bought it sound-unheard back when I was curious about them (2002-04ish).  I do get a sense that if I spent more time listening to them, I could probably end up liking them a lot . . . but honestly that would have to be entirely circumstantial.

5. Chaos A.D.–by Sepultura.  Let me tell you a little story.  One day while I was in high school, probably early my junior year, my friend John Crubaugh approached me with a mix tape he had made at some point in the year or two prior, but had absolutely no recollection of doing so.  He was able to identify a couple of the songs, but there was one in particular he could not figure out.  It was this really, really, REALLY fast and hard punk song, and it was awesome.  We could not figure out the lyrics for the life of us, either.  Well, another year went by and a different friend of mine on a church youth group trip wanted to put in the soundtrack for the Tales From the Crypt movie, Demon Knight. Imagine my surprise when I heard that same song playing on that CD.  I checked the track and was further surprised to see that it was not a hardcore punk band that played the song, but Brazilian thrash metal legends Sepultura.  The song was called “Policia,” its lyrics were entirely in Portuguese (hence us not understanding the words), and it’s still amazing.  (Turns out it’s also a cover.  Go figure.)  I mentioned all this to yet another friend while at school, and expressed my curiosity to see if their other stuff was similar.  He gave me Sepultura’s 1986 debut album Morbid Visions.  It sucked.  Also, the cover art wasn’t something I particularly cared for.  But I was still interested in their (then) recent stuff, and was always tempted to pick up Chaos A.D. Now I’ve heard it via Lala . . . and I’m glad I didn’t get it.  They’re good, but the majority of their stuff relies on a deep sound and hard rhythms and sounding . . . evil . . . as opposed to focusing on speed.  You know–heavy metal.  But speed is what I wanted.  I think for me to really enjoy a really heavy band like this, the speed has to be there.  There’s some songs here that have that “Policia” feel, particularly “Biotech is Godzilla” and “Manifest,” but that brings us to another issue–”Biotech is Godzilla?”  What?  A few others use a little more instrumentation and a more melodic sound (e.g. “The Hunt,” “Kaiowas”), and those were some good oasises for me.  This album has some stuff that gets me a little bit . . . but for the most part just bores me.  Then there’s the whole issue of the subject matter of many of the songs that just leave me feeling slimy . . . .  This is certainly not a Braden album.

But Can Any of Them Play Basketball?

This is for real, I guess.

I could write a 10-page rant on this, but I’m going to keep it short.

Seriously?  Does no one have a problem with this?  Let’s not be so foolish as to think that if these kids are not a disciplinary problem at school, then it’s all well and good.  Plus, in connection to that, allow me to express my COMPLETE disagreement with the mom at the end.  What is lacking in your direction of your son that he is making up his own philosophies to justify wearing a tail to school?  What have you not done that this guy, as someone just years away from full-blown adulthood, thinks it’s his identity to howl while hanging out at the mall?

“We’re not trying to be intimidating, we’re not trying to be menacing or anything.  We’re just trying to live our daily lives and just hang out, you know?”

Dr. Braden says–“These teenagers have suffered a number of social difficulties, not only with their peers, but likely from a somehow unsatisfying relationship with their parents.  They have chosen imagery for their fashion that suggests power and fearsomeness in an attempt to demonstrate that they have anger and fury within them, but are too insecure to express those things in an otherwise socially acceptable fashion.  Their passivity when it comes to their appearance vs. how they want to be treated is likewise due to insecurities and a lack of courage to stand up for themselves.  The extremity of the fashion choices are likely due to a combination of modern societal factors, such as praising individual ‘expression’ and encouraging young people to ‘find themselves.’”

Eventually we are going to have to stop re-writing the definitions of “acceptable” and “normal” just because someone wants to stand outside of them, and recognize that there’s something bigger going on.  And for the record, the excuse, “at least they’re not hurting anybody” is not only overused but completely misguided.

Props to Goninan for the idea for the title.

Bye-Bye Lala: Albums I’ve Listened to on Lala.com, part II

Well, there are five days left.  And I’ve got three posts, including this one, to still get done.  So let’s not waste any time.

One of the things Lala has been great for (and I think its primary function for most users) has been checking out new music.  Hear of a band?  A band you kind of like have a new album out?  You can do more than listen to their first single, you can listen to their whole new album.  These are some new albums which I listened to recently on Lala.

1. Fang Island–by Fang Island.  HOLY CRAP!  My wife recommended this band to me after hearing them on the radio (or on NPR’s site, I’m not really sure) and thought I might like them.  She knows me very well.  This group is so incredible.  They’re mostly instrumental, but I guarantee you’ll hardly notice.  They have an indie-rock sense about them in their song structure and vocalizations (kind of reminiscent of groups like Fleet Foxes), but their guitar work is big, powerful, and very happy.  In fact, all of their songs are very happy.  They’re cheerful, victorious, excited, and clearly having fun with every note.  I really can’t put my finger on it, but the guitar work does sound like some group or something I liked when I was younger.  Maybe that’s a mystery best left unsolved.  According to their Myspace page, they describe their own sound as “everyone high-fiving everyone.”  I really could not have said it better myself.  If you want music to make you happy again, check these guys out.

2. The Monitor–by Titus Andronicus.  If you look up Fang Island on Amazon, you’ll find that other users who viewed that band also bought this album, by Titus Andronicus.  So I listened to them.  I’m glad I did, but I don’t think I’ll return.  They aren’t remotely bad, so don’t misunderstand me.  More than one Lala user described them as a cross between Connor Oberst and Bleach-era Nirvana.  That’s fair, as long as you understand that the Bleach part of that comparison really means dirty, over-distorted guitars and an unpolished, garage-type feel.  While I wasn’t in the prime mood for that kind of sound yesterday, I can easily say that I liked the music, for the most part.  Many songs have a lo-fi recording of a guy reading excerpts from poems or famous speeches as intros or outros, and it gives the listener a strong sense that they’re listening to more than just a collection of music.  That is really the stand-out feature of this album, and it’s really the main thing that made it so I don’t really care to listen to this group again.  It’s very angry, very dark, and at times depressing.  Since I have no doubt that was intended, and since I know some people like that sort of thing, I can’t knock them for it.  But I can say that I’d rather not listen.

3. Drip Drying with The Two Man Gentlemen Band–by The Two Man Gentlemen Band.  I just learned of these guys this morning via a Mental Floss article on them, and found them to be hilarious and insanely clever at the same time.  So I looked them up on Lala and tapped my foot to them as I edited some spreadsheets.  My end verdict is that, yes, these guys are worth listening to, and are a kind of fun that no other group around today really are, but I got tired of songs rife with sexual innuendos and endless droning about getting drunk.  To their credit, they do use innuendo rather just outright graphic detail, but it’s still tiring to me.  I’ll be checking these guys out more, but I’m going to be very picky about my song selection.

4. The ArchAndroid–by Janelle Monáe.  I don’t listen to a great deal of modern R&B, or *cough* pretty much any modern music made by *cough* African-American artists (at least within African-American-dominated genres).  I love old Motown, 70′s disco and funk, and even enjoy early day rap and hip-hop, but the divide between current stuff and my tastes as they are is usually too wide for me to traverse.  That fact usually (and unfortunately) keeps me ill-informed about artists like Monáe, who, in addition to using a lot of R&B and hip-hop in her songs, also draws from blues, jazz, and even classical.  Combine that with sci-fi concept, and I’m sucked in.  As I was writing this, I went and listened to her debut EP, Metropolis: The Chase Suite, and I didn’t enjoy it as much–it felt small, and the style seemed limited (on a single listen, that is).  But this album is massive, and is intriguing at its lowest points, and mind-blowing at its highest.  I’ll be listening to it again, more in-depth, very soon.

5. Fruit–by The Asteroids Galaxy Tour.  I’m not sure how to describe these guys.  The music has strong elements of electronic and dance beats, but there’s also a lot of utilization of horns and guitars and piano.  Lead vocalist Mette Lindberg has a higher-end, mousey voice that really works when combined with the very catchy vocal rhythms and layering.  All of the songs feel big and full, despite all of it being under echo and reverb effects and (what sounds to me like) a turntable sound, resulting in something of an old-timey feel.  It’s not one singular element that can take credit for what makes this album work, it’s just everything working together perfectly. I can’t get over how fun this album is.

Final Thoughts on Lost

(*SPOILER ALERT*)

Let’s just have me come right out and say that I’m a rabid Lost fan.   Now that we have that out of the way, let’s move on.

The finale blew my socks off.  I clapped.  I felt like crying.  It was a more beautiful ending then I could have ever hoped for.  They didn’t answer all the questions I had long hoped they would, but they went beyond all of that and gave me something more; they gave an experience.  I know lots of people were disappointed.  Some people wanted it to end differently.  Others make me wonder if they watched the same show I did.  Yet I have, thankfully, had some small conversations here and there with others who liked it as I did.

After spending an entire day being capable of thinking of little else, I’m going to run through an easily-manageable, five-point post going over what I’ve figured out and what I feel about the end of what I think is the greatest TV show ever made.

1. It was more true to the spirit of the show than what anyone who was disappointed could have wanted.  It reminded me that in spite of all the philosophy and literary references, in spite of the time travel, in spite of the mysteries, the surprises, the mysticism, this was a show about people.  It was about Kate, Hurley, Sayid, Claire, Jack, Sawyer, etc.  It wasn’t about the massive, 4-toed, stone foot, or what’s in the temple (two of my favorite mysteries).  It was about Ben . . . about Locke . . . about Rose and Bernard . . . about Desmond and Penny.  That’s why I was so sad when Boone died.  That’s why my heart sank when it was revealed that Locke was still dead.  That’s why I threw my arms up in anger when the Smoke Monster killed Mr. Eko.  Because I cared about these people.  I cared about what they meant to each other.  I cared about what their lives were for.  I spent six seasons rooting for Jack to open his eyes to the world around him.  I spent 121 episodes believing that Sayid was not the evil man he thought he was.  That is why a character-centric ending, one that ended with their eternity, was infinitely better than one that explained what the source of the island’s power was, and how time travel was possible on it.

2. Without mysteries and questions, it’s not Lost.  Now I could have used something showing us who it was that was shooting at Sawyer, et al. in that boat while they were bouncing through time.  But other than that, one of the best things about Lost has always been discussing it with fellow fans.  What would we have if the writers answered everything?  We wouldn’t have our show anymore, that’s for sure.  We’d have a big pile of, ” . . . hmph.  Well . . . there’s that.”

3. No answers to most lingering and difficult questions could ever have been satisfactory.  What if Cuse and Lindelof went the route of explaining everything?  Remember–this is a fictional story, which means writers have to make everything up.  What pleases one fan will tick another one off.  In fact, it was this very thing that probably annoyed me the most about those pessimistic fans.  It seemed beyond their ability to understand that their love of the mystery is greater than any answer that can be offered, so they complain and pout about something they didn’t like, and sometimes write the show off entirely.  Well guess what–it’s not your story.  I prefer to have it be told to me then have it all happen my way.  Where would be the fun in that?  And I fully realized this after the last episode–some of these mysteries are more fun being left to us.

4. Yes they’re all dead, but they didn’t all die. That seems contradictory, but it’s not.  I’ve been irritated all day by reading comments from various people on articles and the like regarding the last episode.  The one that gets me the most usually goes something like this, “So they all died at the end?  Jack actually failed and they all died?  I don’t see how that’s good!”  *SLAP*  No.  Wrong.  Let me explain it for those who might have been a little confused.  Jack saved the island, then he died.  Hurley and Ben lived on as the new “Jacob” and “Richard,” respectively, and did eventually die–but probably not for centuries (source:  Ben–”Hugo, you were a hell of a number one.”  Hurley–”Thanks, Ben; you were a hell of a number two.”  They lived on, guarding the island).  We can safely assume that everyone on the Ajira Air plane made it home safely and lived full lives, as well as believing that Rose and Bernard lived their last days in peace, and that Desmond got better and made it back to Penny and his son (source: Jack–”They all died, too?”  Christian–”Everyone dies eventually, Jack.  Some of them before you, others long after you.”  This tells us that some of the people in the church lived on after Jack died).  The “sideways universe” was a kind of purgatory, a first-phase afterlife.  I don’t have all the answers as to why their alternate lives were the way they were (Sawyer being a cop, Jack and Juliette having a son, etc.), but I do know they needed to all remember their “real” lives with each other, and then reunite, and then they spend eternity together.  There was no twist that told us it turns out that Jack failed, or that the island was purgatory all along, or that the plane Jack saw as he was dying was Oceanic 815.  The ending was a very happy, bittersweet one.  It was not dark.  It was fully conclusive; we don’t have answers to every little question, but we see everyone come together after all their lives are over, and stay together forever.  So we can speculate about the adventures of Hurley and Ben, or what it was like when Claire saw her mom and Aaron again . . . but we know the end to their story.  And it’s good.

5. I’m very very pleased.  What a ride that was.  I’m excited for when I can watch through it again; I wonder what I’ll catch then . . .

Bye-Bye Lala: Albums I’ve Listened to on Lala.com, part I

Let me fill you in if you don’t know.  Lala.com is a music website in the vein of Pandora.  The difference is that, where Pandora creates a personalized station of music similar to your selection of a band, song, or genre, Lala lets you find and listen to an entire album, from start to finish.  Once.  After that you get to listen to 30-second samples, or you can buy the album on MP3, or at a very reduced in-site price and listen to it on Lala.com as much as you want.  It’s been over a year since a friend of mine told me about this site, and I used it a lot at first, but then wandered away to other things (namely my phone and iPod).

Well, now Lala.com has been purchased by Apple and will be shut down at the end of May 2010, much to the dismay of many users of the site.  When I first heard of this a couple weeks ago, my reaction was, “that sucks.  Oh, well.”  But since then I’ve been at the site every day, finding albums to listen to–new ones I’ve never heard, old ones I’ve never heard, ones I used to own, ones I’ve always meant to buy but never did–and I can say I’m really upset it’s going away, too.  But there’s no stopping the bulldozer that is Apple, so I’m just taking in as much as I can before it’s gone.

And boy, have I.  I’ve been listening to some great stuff (and some not-so-great stuff, too).  In honor of the last days that we’ll have this awesome site, I’m going to  share some thoughts on the albums I’ve heard on it.  There will be at least 25 altogether, but spread out over 4 entries, each of which will focus on a different, personal categorization.  I’ll talk about ones that are new, ones that are old that I finally got around to listening to, ones that I used to own years ago and compare what I think now vs. what I thought then, and then finally just six extra, because it’s my blog and I can do that.

Since I’m the kind of guy who likes to get his salad out of the way so he only has his steak and potatoes left to enjoy, I’m starting with the six miscellaneous entries.  These are ones that either don’t fit into those other three categories, or did, but just didn’t make the cut (whatever that cut was).

1. Razia’s Shadow: A Musical–by Forgive Durden (and guests) I’m tempted to hold this album aloft and call it pure creative genius.  It is truly a musical.  It’s a complete fantasy story, with a cast of characters and a narrator all played by different singers, and that seems so unique and original.  But that’s not entirely the case.  Of course, concept albums have been around since the 1960′s, and The Who took that a step even further and made entire operas.  So I settle on understanding that the true uniqueness of this album is that it feels more like a musical than it does a rock album.  I’m blown away by the idea and the execution of Razia’s Shadow.  The authors and composers have dared to step out of the safety of writing just rock songs and I think they’ve really shown how greatly talented they are, and I get the strong sense that the cast (played by the vocalists from a number of other bands) had a great time participating.  The story’s a bit out there, and a single listen (which is all I’ve really had) isn’t enough to grasp the whole thing.  I might end up with this one in my collection someday, but it is a little low on the list.  I think I can easily say that my favorite song is Doctor Doctor, featuring Shawn Harris of The Matches, because he is the only person that seemed to dare to be completely in character.  Incedentally, I did listen to an album by The Matches because of this album, and I didn’t care too much for it.  Maybe I wasn’t in the mood.

2. Kingwood–by Millencolin The Swedish pop-punk quartet Millencolin was my favorite band for a few years around the turn of the century.  I had every last line of their first three albums (Tiny Tunes (renamed Same Old Tunes when I got it), Life on a Plate, For Monkeys) memorized.  I counted down the days to the release of their 2000 album, Pennybridge Pioneers, and loved it.  Then, within a year of that album being released, my entire CD collection was stolen.  That “tragic” event coincided with a change in my prevailing musical tastes, so I’ve only ever re-bought Pennybridge Pioneers, only doing so years after the fact, and have only listened to it a handful of times.  But even though I headed in a different direction, Millencolin kept putting out albums.  This was their 2005 release . . . and it sounds exactly like I expect it to.  Just like years before, they have plenty of hard-edged guitars, catchy lyrics, well-executed vocal harmonies, and predictable rock beats, but they’ve all but abandoned their more obvious pop-punk and ska-punk roots.  It’s not bad at all.  Had this album been the one released in 2000, it would have been just as good to me as Pennybridge Pioneers.  But I have to say there’s not much for me here anymore.  And I find that a little sad.

3. Deja Entendu–by Brand New This album defines the band Brand New to me.  They are incredibly talented, they will rock your face off, and I cannot stand them because they’re so freaking arrogant.  Okay, maybe it’s mostly or only Jesse Lacey that’s the arrogant one, but that’s enough.  Pride and self-assurance just oozes out of these songs like pink slime from the Manhattan Museum of Art, and while I might look at that and think, “wow, cool!”, I still don’t like going near it.  You know . . . I know of other groups that I understand to be just as cocky, and they don’t bother me the same way these guys do, or the way this album does.  How nearly paradoxical.  I’m honestly not sure if I’ve never marked this album among my all-time favorites because it truly doesn’t grab me, or because I won’t let it.  If you just listen to (what I think is the best song, however generic that is), ”Sic Transit Gloria–Glory Fades,” you might be able to hear what I hear.  It is an incredible song that just gives the listener such energy, but the tone of the vocals (not the lyrics) just say to me, “I’m so much better than you at everything and I pity you when you think otherwise; the same way I pity a squirrel that ran under my car right before I ran over it.”  Maybe I’m being too harsh, but I’m so perplexed by how I react to this music that I just have to keep talking about it!

4. Long Hair in Three Stages–by U.S. Maple There is a classic Alkaline Trio lyric in the song “Bleeder” that says, “Remember last April when we saw U.S. Maple?  Some how the singer showed the fireside exactly how I feel!”  That line alone made me want to listen to these guys, and had I ever found one of their albums around that time, I would have got it.  But I’m not so sure how much I would have liked it.  I won’t dare call this album “bad,” but it is most certainly different.  U.S. Maple is part of a sub-genre of rock called “Math Rock,” which is charactarized by . . . well . . . weirdness?  The drums and bass seem to have typical roles in the songs, but the guitar is more for texture than notes and lead, and the singer sounds to me like a Tommy Victor (Prong)-meets-Black Francis (The Pixies) that just doesn’t care.  I certainly think these guys deserve to be lauded for their uniqueness, but I’m not entirely sure it’s something I could handle without trying for a long time.  I certainly might try someday, but not any time soon.

5. Quadrophenia–by The Who I wish I could say that I’m a huge Who fan, but when I’m honest, and truly express my opinion rather than try to appear like someone who loves well-loved music, at best I can say that I like The Who, and love many of their songs.  I really have to be in the right mood to get into their other stuff.  For some reason this album doesn’t get as much attention as their other works (especially in the shadow of Tommy, their other rock-opera), so I was always nervous to just outright buy it.  Yet don’t let that sway you as it did me; this is a really good album, especially for The Who.  I think if someone who isn’t immediately drawn to late-60′s, early-70′s British rock to keep in mind that this is more art than it is rock, they will be able to appreciate it more; I know it helps me.  As cheesy at it may sound, it feels to me that Townsend paints with his guitar and his notes.  My own songwriting is always marred by my constant desire for more musical complexity than I can accomplish, so I’m always amazed when someone who is more capable of complexity than me has no problem alternating between two chords for over a minute in the middle of a song.  I could really go on about all the subtle things I caught in my two listens (once in my early Lala days, once as I was writing this section), but it’s really something that’s best left to someone if they care to check it out.

6. Year of the Black Rainbow–by Coheed and Cambria Of course there’s going to be a Coheed and Cambria album somewhere; let’s get it out of the way early so it looks like I listen to a variety of music.  This is actually the album that got me back onto Lala, since I wanted to hear the new album to wash away my experience from the concert I had recently seen (and subsequently, the reviews of this album on Lala are what primarily inspired my last music entry).  Not long after this album came out, a friend of mine texted me to let me know he got it and added, “It does not disappoint.”  No, it does not.  It’s really early for me to give a full assessment of Year of the Black Rainbow, since I need to fully digest Coheed to reach an honest conclusion, but early on I can say I’m thoroughly impressed, yet again, by how amazing these guys are.  The one thing that’s standing out in my memory from the single, full listen I’ve given this is the song “Pearl of the Stars,” simply because it doesn’t sound anything like Claudio at first.  Just to bring this to a quick conclusion: the important thing about liking Coheed and Cambria is learning to appreciate them for what they are, not what we think they should be based on radio d.j.’s and rock magazine reviews.  If you are among those of us that understand Coheed and Cambria are more than the owners of some catchy hard rock songs that came out several years ago, then this album is fantastic.

Adventures on the 358, vol. II — Wanna Beer?

I ride Seattle Metro route 358 to work every morning, and then again on the way home.  Nearly every ride comes with a show.  Here is one.

When I published yesterday’s post, I wasn’t expecting to return to a 358-based story for at least a week or so.  Well it just so happened that the best bus-riding story so far took place on the way home last night.

The driver opened the door for a couple of stragglers at the stop near Denny Way.  The second of the two men was carrying a 12-pack of Budweiser cans.  While I guess it’s okay to carry unopened alcohol onto the bus (which makes sense since some people use the bus to go grocery shopping), you are, of course, not allowed to drink while riding.  I noticed the case in the guy’s hands and intended to pay it no further mind.  Ugh . . .

He took the open seat directly across the aisle from me, right next to a woman who appeared to be in her early or mid-thirties.  He immediately bragged about his 12-pack.  “See that?  That’s the new Seattle Mariners edition.  Neat huh?  Huh?  Neat, huh?”  Apparently the woman’s undoubtedly uncomfortable, but probably polite (I couldn’t really hear her), response wasn’t enough for this guy.  She had her iPhone out and was texting someone, and he leaned over her shoulder, “Who’s that?  Huh?  What kind of a phone is that?  That’s a pretty neat phone.”

I need to mention at this point that this man was NOT mentally ill.  At least not in the sense that some of the other crazy guys on my bus are clearly mentally ill.  This guy was a socially inept jerk, with no sense of boundaries, respect, or responsibility.  Understood?  Good.

To get the point of what happened from Denny Way until this poor woman got off the bus at 64th Street, it’s best if I just write out my best recollection of his dialogue (sans profanity).  I couldn’t hear her anyway.

“Yeah, that’s a cool phone.  Pretty cool.  I found a pretty neat phone one time.  It was all fancy.  It belonged to this girl who was taking pictures of herself and emailing them to everyone.  I mean, she was a FREAK!  You know what I’m saying?  It was some FREAKY STUFF!  All these different pictures.  She looked pretty good.  She was like 19 or something.  She was a freak, though.  Man.  I mean I’m not like all that, but she was doin’ some stuff!  You know?  Huh?  Hey!  You know?  I talked to her and told her I had her phone, and she was all like, ‘Oh thank you so much!  We should meet so I can get it back.’  She said, ‘I have brown hair,’ and I was like, ‘I KNOW what you look like!’  Huh?  You know?  Yeeeeah-haha!  You wanna beer?  Huh?”  He looks quickly to see if the driver is watching (he isn’t), and he cracks open a beer and takes a quick swig.  “Yeah, but we met up.  It was pretty cool.  Can you believe it, though?  Man, she was a freak.  It was pretty cool.  A freak, though.  Huh?  You know?  What do you do?  Huh?  Where do you work?  What do you do there?  Oh, so like typing all day?  That pretty boring?  Huh?  You like what you do?  Just typing all day? . . . Yeah, she was a freak.”

And so on.

We got to the woman’s stop, and I was thinking, “Run like the wind, child!  Run!”  She must have been saying something to him before she got up because he said, “Oh?  Yeah, I guess it’s good to have a grandpa, huh?”

Once she’s off the bus, he props his back against the window and his feet up into the seat and proceeds to loudly talk to everyone and no one (like  Twitter, just more irritating), “Did you hear that?  Her DAUGHTER is the one in labor!  And it’s her GRANDFATHER that’s there!  Did you hear that?  What is that about?  That is a f**ked up family or something!  I mean, the DAUGHTER is having the baby, and then there’s the GRANDFATHER!  Huh?  Man . . . that’s just f**ked up.”

He continued to, I guess, try to get someone to engage in how f**ked up it was that it was her daughter having the baby, but the grandfather was there (?), and also made some mentions of how he was heading up to Shoreline to buy some methamphetamines, because “they prescribe it to [him].”  This was all done in between chugging his beer and letting out a few very nasty burps.  As people would get off the bus, I was hoping they would say something to the driver, but they didn’t.  I’m sure their focus was just getting away.  But since this was not the first time I dealt with rude and obnoxious people drinking beer on the bus, I decided that I’m not going to be so dismissive.

When we approached my stop, I got up and walked to the front of the bus early.  We were actually stopped at the light right before my stop, so I asked the driver if he would let me off early and he obliged.  As I paid, I said to him, “There’s a guy, third row back on your side, drinking a beer.”

“What?  Right now?” asked the driver.

“Yeah,” I replied.

“Where?”

“Three rows back, your side.”

“Okay,” he said and opened the door for me.  I stepped out onto the curb and found myself trapped by two “don’t walk” signals.  Then I heard, “Hey!”  I turned to see a cop sitting in his car in the parking lot adjacent to where I was.  “Have you seen a drunk woman walking up and down the street here?”

“No,” I said,”but there’s probably going to be one getting off the bus here in a second.”

“Yeah!” he laughed in response, and went back to his business.  Then I noticed that the door on the bus was still open, and the driver was flagging down the cop.  The cop got out of his car and approached the bus.  After the driver said something to him, another cop car came around the corner with its lights on and that cop got out.  They both went onboard and escorted the guy off, who was looking very sad.

Me?  I had walked across the street in the wrong direction in order to get away since I feared this guy might retaliate when he figured out who said something.  Turns out it wasn’t completely necessary.  I was well on my way to the gym by the time he was being put into one of the cruisers.

Now some may call me a hero . . . some may call me a tattle-tale.  I just say I’m me, and I’m just trying to do what I think’s right.

Adventures on the 358, vol. I – Think About It

I ride Seattle Metro route 358 to work every morning, and then again on the way home.  Nearly every ride comes with a show.  Here is one.

A young lady of probably 23-25 got on the bus one morning.  It was fairly full by then, so she sat next to an older gentleman across the aile and one row up from me.  No sooner than when the bus closed its doors and began to move then the older man leaned in towards her–even though her headphones were in her ears–and asked, “Do I have something green on my mouth?”  I didn’t catch her expression, but I would imagine the combination of terror, confusion, and transparently fake politeness was the stuff of comedic gold.  After she said no, he proceeded to explain to her why he would have green on his mouth, and then moved on to a one-sided conversation using such phrases as “my generation.”  While I enjoyed the initial encounter, empathy for her took over rather quickly and I disconnected my brain from what was taking place (since there was not much else I could do), except for picking up an occasional word or two. I did get the impresson that it was an attempt to share misguided, 50-something-year-old wisdom with someone who didn’t ask for it.  Yet the best part came when she left.  He told her to have a nice day when she got up to leave, and when she was just stepping on to the curb, well out of earshot, the guy said ever-so-sincerely, “It’s your life . . . think about it.”

A List of Albums That Took Me a While . . .

One important trait of being a true music fan is being able to give an album time to grow on you.  It’s a tricky practice– some albums aren’t ever going to be worth the time, to be sure.  However, an album that is great right away isn’t necessarily going to stand the test of time (my crowning example: Something Corporate’s Leaving Through the  Window), and, even more so, an album that doesn’t wow you after a single listen isn’t necessarily worthy of a trip back to Silver Platters.

Here are some albums that I really didn’t find to be all that special after the first few listens, but became some of my favorite albums of all time.

1.  Less Than Jake: Hello Rockview. This is always the first in my head any time this kind of topic comes up.  I bought it with money I shouldn’t have been spending on my way to go hang out with my new friend Skip on a warm October 1998 afternoon, and was excited to see that, before I could tell him what I got, he excitedly held up HIS latest purchase–the same album.  I certainly liked the album, but it wasn’t as interesting as the band’s previous release, Losing Streak.  I couldn’t put my finger on it, but something wasn’t clicking.  But after a few weeks of continued listening, and giving it a chance to become associated with some good times, as the previous album had been, I discovered that this album was light-years past its predecessor.  The songwriting, the lyrics, the vocalizations and harmonies, the musicianship, even the album design . . . everything was just better.  Not long after realizing this, I was hanging out with some guys one night, and one of them actually said, “Hello Rockview’s okay, but it’s nowhere near as good as Losing Streak.”  I protested (because that’s what I do), and was met with strong disagreement from everyone in the room.  We’re talking about 6 guys–all of them denying Hello Rockview’s superiority–versus 135-pound me.  It was a big argument that I refused to budge on (because that’s what I do).  A couple of weeks later, I was hanging out with many of them again, and one of them approached me when no one else was around.  “Hey . . . I’ve been listening to Hello Rockview a lot, and I agree with you.  The new album is way better.”  You’re darn right it is.

2. Alice in Chains: Dirt.  People who met me after 1997 wouldn’t know this about me unless I’ve told them: I was a HUGE Alice in Chains fan, and I still really like them today.  But the way I got there is perfect for the topic of this blog.  I was just discovering the whole grunge thing around 1994, since my older brother started liking it, thus making it cool.  I liked Stone Temple Pilots a lot.  I liked Pearl Jam, Soundgarden, Collective Soul.  The list goes on.  One band I could not stand, though, was Alice in Chains.  The primary reason was that guy’s vocals!  He sounded like a dying cat.  Dirt was the first album of theirs I heard, and I quickly gave it back to my big brother, nearly gagging.  Months went by, and one night he was listening to Dirt’s follow-up, Jar of Flies, and one of the songs caught my ear.  I don’t know which one it was, but I’ve always been a sucker for good, melodically structured songs, and if that album has anything, it has that.  So I asked to borrow it that night to listen to as I fell asleep, and he agreed.  The next day I confessed that I like that album, but I still don’t like the band.  Well, that admission was the crack that led to the destruction of the dam.  Within a month I borrowed Dirt again and was able to stomach it.  I kept listening, and every time I found something else I liked.  I never really thought of myself as someone who could like weird songs with weird structure, but some of my favorites were “Sickman” and “Angry Chair.”  About a year later, the band released their amazing self-titled album, with the three-legged dog on the cover, and I was in heaven.

3.  Last Days of April: Ascend to the Stars. First of all, if you haven’t heard of these guys, do yourself a favor and look them up.  Now, on to the album.  I could ramble about any number of great albums in my collection that “took me a while,” but that would get a little boring and repetitive.  So I’m limiting this list to the more unique instances.  The unique thing about this album in relation to the topic is that it took me three years to get around to liking it.  While it’s not the record holder for that honor (that would be Death to the Pixies, which took me 6 years), it’s an album that still sits comfortably in my top 20 (whereas nowadays I roll my eyes when someone plays “Debaser” on a jukebox).  This band is just great, and I heard some of their stuff on a compilation around 2002.  One of my roommates at the time, Adam, got to buying something by them first, and he got the album with all the songs on it that were on that compilation.  So by the time I got around to making my own purchase, I didn’t want something I’d already heard . . . and I bought their newest album at the time.  I listened to it, and it suffered from a case of what I’ll refer to as “Hello Rockview-ism” (aka “wishing it was the older one”).  Being smart enough to know that I could like it later, I shelved it to return to it at a time when I was more open to it.  Well, it took 3 years, but in spring 2006, I did it, and I’m listening to it right now.  The songs are smart, catchy, innocent, and intriguing, all at the same time.

4. Joe Satriani: Joe Satriani. It’s always been interesting to me that this album by the legendary guitarist is the most different from all of his other material, but it’s the one he chose to name after himself.  I hated this album when I got it.  Back then (1996-ish), an album cost like $10-12, which was two-to-three week’s allowance for me, so I was pretty pissed when I started the album up and found that there were no screaming guitars, no wild effects, no party-worthy compositions.  It was very blues and jazz influenced.   And to my 15-year-old ears, it was criminal.   Then I got even MORE confirmation that my opinion was justified when my older brother, the man who introduced me to Joe Satriani, told me that he thought it was terrible.  Well, I’m not sure what it was that got me to put it back in months later (probably the inviting red cover art, or its shiny jewel case due to minimal use), but stepping into this album and fully understanding that it WASN’T going to be like the Satch’s previous work helped me appreciate it.  Once I did that, I was able to take in the lack of flashy effects on Joe’s guitar, leaving only his expertise with the instrument, and the fact that the other instruments in the songs actually stand out on their own, rather than just provide the floor for chrome boy’s dancing.  This is what, in my opinion, solidifies Joe Satriani as a legendary guitarist.  His other stuff is great, but honestly, if he couldn’t do what he did on this album, he’d be a circus act, not a musician.  My older brother still hates this album to this day–he didn’t give it the chance it really deserves.

5. The Promise Ring: Nothing Feels Good.  Ah, now this is the album that is the took-me-a-while of took-me-a-whiles.  To quickly get you up to speed with a story I’ve told a trillion times (yes, with a T), upon first hearing the music style called “emo” waaaay back in late 1997 on a mix tape from a friend, I absolutely hated it (I’m going to assume you know the difference between real emo and emo post-2002; this was clearly the former).  The album that represented all that was wrong with this kind of music was the album from which my friend took most of the songs for this tape.  That album was Nothing Feels Good.  More like nothing sounds good, am I right?  The vocalist sounded out of key in every song, the guitars were all dissonant and repetitive, the lyrics were gibberish . . . I couldn’t stand it.  This album is the single largest contributor to my seething emo hatred that would last until early 2001.  Speaking of 2001, it was around that time I gave up on my anti-emo campaign because I had grown tired of maintaining the persona when I really didn’t care all that much anymore.  Plus I was tired of my other music, and at the time, emo was the natural maturing and progression of punk and ska fans.  I got into Hey Mercedes, early Jimmy Eat World, Jets to Brazil, the list is very long.  One band I could not handle though: The Promise Ring.  I still cringed every time I heard Davey von Bolen croon.  Even when I began to develop a taste, and even a desire, for dissonant guitars and hard punctuations that were typical of emo, I hated his voice.  Well . . . I still felt like I was missing something.  My friends all liked this band, but I couldn’t do it.  Not without a fight, anyway.  So I jumped off the proverbial cliff and bought the album.  I put it into my car stereo right away, and it lasted maybe 15 minutes.  But it did go back in soon after, and it has become one of my all-time favorite albums, and The Promise Ring is still one of my all-time favorite bands.  To this day I couldn’t tell you when my hatred for von Bolen’s voice began to transform into a love for it.  I couldn’t tell you what changed in me so that I found a song that repeats the lines “Nothing feels good like you in your red and blue jeans and your white and night things” over and over and over to be genius rather than grating.  But it did.

Nothing Feels Good is the primary reason that I’m careful not to write of a musician or an album without really giving them a full chance.  It is a paragon of how I can know, beyond a doubt, that I do not like The Dave Matthews Band or modern country music.  It is also the reason that I get so bugged when someone dismisses a band or album after hearing them once, or based off of just the singer’s voice, or because the song structures are unconventional (or different from what the band has done before).  If you only listen to what you like immediately, your appreciation of music is very shallow indeed.