September 10, 2026. 40.00649, -75.16092. See the updated map here. See all the blog posts here.
One idea I had—or have, I guess, though I think by the end of this paragraph, I'll have convinced you that it's a bad idea that should be put to bed—was that my kids and I should make a list of every public playground in the city, and play on all of them. I think that would be fun, a good excuse to explore, a good way to get to know our city better, a cool way to get the kids to appreciate public works, etc. etc. But I'm also acknowledging that not many people's brains work this way. Ya know, the finding comfort in the idea of making a list and completing the list and documenting the experiences along the way. And to be clear, I'm talking about completing the full task. I know there are people who love the idea of the "big task," and love making plans about them, but then are also just as comfortable letting such projects wither and die before completion. I don't know if any of my kids are like me. I remember last summer they were bored so I tried to get them to draw one picture a day for a whole month, with plans to provide a different prompt for drawing each day and to put all the pictures together into a book or something. But they bailed on that after like two days. I think that they would probably love the third playground we hit up and would probably hate the thirty-third playground we hit up. So throw it in the bin of bad ideas, and chalk it up to me still learning about myself and all the ways I feel like a fucking freak.
My husband was a blog freak. Actually, he was particularly obsessed with 500 movies that he'd never seen before. He talked about them constantly. I thought it was cute at first. On our wedding night, I was a virgin.
After Hours
1985
Martin Scorsese
Thanks to everyone who watched our latest film and wrote about it! Write-ups for After Hours below.
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Allison
Ah, New York in the '80s. How awful. After Hours is a bleak, dark comedy, likely disavowed by the SoHo Tourism Board. Paul Hackett is all of us. A listless young professional stuck in the dregs of corporate America. Looking for a little action, a little adventure, he leaves the comfort, safety, and boredom of his uptown apartment to meet up with Marcy, the original manic pixie dream girl. Or is she just manic?
While I had some laughs, I didn't really enjoy this. What is Marty trying to do here? What is Marty trying to say about the New York art scene? What is Marty trying to say about women? Nothing positive.
My biggest takeaway and the most distracting issue with After Hours: that's not how fucking paper mache works. Anyone who has ever dabbled in DIY or made a model volcano for the science fair knows it takes at least 24 hours to dry, and that's if you have the proper airflow. In an artist loft, maybe. In a dank punk club basement? Absolutely not, no way. He would start to mold before he ever dried. It completely took me out of the movie.
Also, did you know that Cheech and Chong were in the Scorseseverse? I found them distracting.
That said, I liked the ending. Breaking out of his (inconceivable) plaster disguise/prison, Paul ends up right where he started—back at the office. The message is finally clear: there's no escape. Back to work, yuppie. Time to make the plaster-of-Paris donuts...
2.5 stars
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Catherine
I’ve been waiting all summer for tickets to see The Odyssey in 70mm IMAX, even though I'm not a fan of the story and I have no idea what 70mm means (I'm just insufferable like that), but it's been sold out in NYC for months.
After Hours is my Odyssey.
Paul is Odysseus, and I'd watch him for countless hours traversing the bowels of SoHo, his siren song the tinny wail of Catherine O'Hara's ice cream truck. Stuck between a rock and a plaster place, Paul slips into hijinks spanning from light-hearted to deeply traumatizing (Marcy aside, remember that throwaway MURDER??), all because he took a chance on companionship for the evening.
"I just want to live."
Lots of us have had some nights out that sound barely believable the next day, but something that tickled me a little bit extra is Paul is sober the whole time. He's got nothing to blame but his own rotten luck and the consequences of his perfectly functioning executive reasoning for the worst night of his life.
I love how Griffin Dunne played Paul. I've been mulling it over for about 24 hours now, but I still can't decide if Paul is "good" or "bad," and I like that a lot. He makes some mistakes here and there, he slips up, he can be selfish, but even when he snaps at someone, he usually apologizes and tries to be as polite as he can muster while clinging to the end of his rope. There was something so laugh-out-loud funny about that to me. All he wants to do is go home and go to bed before he dies of exhaustion, but he's somehow reluctantly petting Terri Garr's beehive at 3AM at her request so he doesn't seem rude.
"I just want to live."
I also like that this movie is a stuffy '80s New Yorker's fever dream of what goes on below 14th Street at all hours of the night. And, as a modern day New Yorker (at least that's what my electric bill says), seeing gritty, no-good SoHo, the place where I see billionaires' jobless children line up outside of the Supreme store and I feel out of place if I'm not wearing a designer dress less than $1,000, it was fun to see how it's evolved.
I have too much to say about this movie, but I really enjoyed it. I keep seeing Kafka-esque thrown around, but sadly I'm not well-read enough so I'll call it Safdie-esque with a lighter, more slapstick feel, and I had a hell of a time.
I happened to see a friend's Letterboxd review of this movie that I appreciated:
"The mom AND the dad from Home Alone???!!!?"
Amen.
4/5 Plaster of Paris bagel and cream cheese paper weights
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Joe
I don't know about this one. I liked it but I have my doubts that it's important. It was funny but there didn't seem to be all that much behind the irreverent humor. It kept my attention but I don't think I'll be remembering it for too much longer. Here's where I knew I was "out" instead of "in": when Paul Hackett (played wonderfully by Griffin Dunne) witnesses a random murder through a bedroom window and mumbles to himself "I'll probably get blamed for that." It made too plain what the movie was trying to do, and betrayed the fact that it was all just a little too loose and shaggy for me to be satisfied.
I just don't think that After Hours had anything interesting to say. The story itself was interesting, and fun. I saw it described as a "labyrinth," and that feels accurate. Paul keeps trying to escape the night, but then keeps returning to the same locations and meeting the same people and rightfully becomes disoriented at how all the little details start adding up. That was fun as fuck, and I sincerely appreciated the various loops that the film was building (e.g. I was dying laughing when Cheech and Chong showed up yet again to steal the same statue for like the third time, but this time with Paul encased inside of it). But what does it all mean? Anything besides "this is a fun way to spend 90-ish minutes"?
Maybe that's the wrong way of looking at it. I acknowledge that I tend to switch back and forth between different outlooks on movies in general—sometimes it's enough for me that the story is fun and that's where the importance lies, and sometimes it's not enough and I need more, something profound. I'm at the latter for After Hours. Do I have higher expectations because Scorsese is the director on this one? When I was a young shit-stirrer, I feel like Scorsese earned a lot of my adolescent ire, but I've matured enough and I've come around. The man is one of our greatest American filmmakers, yes. So is this why I'm feeling the desire for more? Because I know that he's capable of more than this?
I empathize with the desire for After Hours to mean more. I read that there are themes of "emasculating" and "castration" throughout, and I guess I did notice that (the doodle of a shark biting off a dick was pretty memorable). This is where I struggle with interpreting movies, I think. I have no issue with accepting the fact that such a theme was purposeful and clear. Where I take issue is that this is supposed to mean something. What is the point of sprinkling in various references to emasculation? What does it lead to? Am I missing something? Am I being obtuse? Am I supposed to empathize with the character because I know what feeling emasculated feels like, or am I supposed to feel distant from the character because the film makes it known that he should feel emasculated? I get the sense that the emasculation theme was just something sprinkled in to create another throughline with the various scenarios and characters and locations.
And that's all well and good. I even like it, the fact that there are depths here to explore, but I remain slightly unsatisfied. I could attempt to talk about the theme that seems sort of there and sort of not, but the one that would mean something to me if it had landed properly—Paul is an office drone, and he is being punished for it. There was one part where he yells out, almost like a non-sequitur, "it was just a word processor!" That, plus the film being bookended by drab office life, makes me think that After Hours is trying to say that... oh jeez, what? I should know this, as an office loser myself. It's either "this is boring and you should be punished for it" or "it's boring but you should appreciate it because look what happens when you try to mix it up."
Either way, there wasn't enough in After Hours to make any of that clear, and I think it would be disingenuous of me to try to shoehorn it in too much. I'd feel like the poor Wikipedia editor who had to come up with a whole damn paragraph about how a theme is emasculation. It's all just a lot of hot air.
But damn, sometimes that hot air felt like it was lifting a whole damn hot air balloon. The escalation of these conflicts in this film, though many of them contrived, were pretty fun to witness. I thought that the Catherine O'Hara character was a step too far (though it was fun to realize that Home Alone was an After Hours mini-reunion of her and John Heard), but I did like how her ice cream truck added to the tension of angry mob chasing Paul.
All the little callbacks were amazing too. My favorite was Paul lying about ordering a hamburger as he runs away from the diner, and then he coincidentally ends up back at the same diner and is served his burger. It would've been cool if they managed to fit everything into it. Like that Wizard of Oz monologue about the husband yelling "Surrender Dorothy!" every time he came. Did that ever come back? I laughed, but I don't recall a callback, unless I missed it. And the aforementioned murder-through-the-window thing didn't come back at all, which means it existed solely for the fourth-wall-breaking quip, which saps it of its power.
I'm open to the idea that I'm missing something here, but until then, the impression I got was: fun, and literally nothing else.
GRADE: 3 pukes out of 5
~~~~~~~~~~
GROUP AVERAGE GRADE: 3.167 pukes out of 5
Scream like a papier-mâché sculpture in the comments with us!
(NEXT TIME: Allison and Brittany both chose Amélie for their Already Seen It film, so let's see what that's about.)
September 9, 2026. 40.08368, -75.14166. See the updated map here. See all the blog posts here.
I am inviting you to look into someone's home. No! It's not creepy! Well, it is, but not creepier than what you can already do on Google Maps. You can look into anyone's home already, you don't need a blog project for that. Here is a stranger's home. Look inside. I was driving past the house and so I looked inside too. And I saw something, but I couldn't tell what it was. A box in the corner of the room. Glowing orange, I think. I'm not sure. I thought it might be a pinball machine at first. What do you think it is? I'm giving you the picture. I'm telling you to zoom in. Look inside this home, and tell me what you see. It's not creepy, I swear.
Joe is working through a list of albums that he considers "blind spots," i.e. albums that he's never heard but feels like he should.
This is a true sequel Year of Blind Spots entry, as Combat Rock was released just about a year and a half after the epic, insane Sandinista!, and it works as a logical follow-up to that triple album as well. There's really only one way you can go after releasing an everything-and-the-kitchen-sink opus like that: you get smaller. Combat Rock would seem compact in anyone's discography, let alone next to an album that is 98 minutes longer.
I haven't found the motivation to go beyond the big three (Sandinista! itself was a stretch after the two stone-cold classics I've been deeply familiar with since my youth, London Calling and the UK version of The Clash) until now for a couple reasons. First was that I made the disastrous decision to buy a CD compilation of "the singles" in the same time frame I owned those two classic albums, and it really distorted the story of the Clash for me. More on this comp in a minute, after the second reason. The second was that, quite simply, it was made clear to me by the gatekeepers that I admired that the other albums just simply weren't as good.
After spending some time with this supposedly not-as-good Clash album (their fifth—I'm still not familiar with sophomore album Give 'Em Enough Rope, maybe next year?), I can say that it's better than I expected, but it has a few flaws. The first is obvious, because I've harped on this point in pretty much every other Blind Spots entry over the past seven years of doing this shit. There are songs on here that are very popular, even ubiquitous, and their presence is distracting.
In the case of Combat Rock, we're talking about "Should I Stay or Should I Go" and "Rock the Casbah," situated back-to-back on the tracklist, a one-two punch of songs that are, for better or worse, so familiar to anyone who gives even a single shit about rock music that they might as well be "Johnny B. Goode." They are fundamental, and this is to their detriment. How I feel about both of these songs is the closest I ever get to dismissing the Clash as a stodgy classic rock band in the same genre as, like, fucking Boston or Steve Miller Band or something. They are overplayed and overrated, and I did not realize they existed on the same album in the same space on that album. I can't get past it.
The second thing I'll say about it that isn't favorable is that Combat Rock stays in some of the weird lanes that were permanently paved in Sandinista!, but it doesn't land as well because of the lack of heft or daring-do. Two and a half hours of the craziest shit you can imagine does wonders for some of the bizarre deep cuts. But if you have twelve songs and two of them are pasted on the back cover of "Punk Rock for Beginners," and the other ten shoot for the same range as Sandinista! but in 20% of the time, then it just feels watered down. Something like "Red Angel Dragnet" is weird on purpose; something like "Death Is a Star" is barely there. I like "Overpowered by Funk" for finding hidden back alleys in this band's sound. "Know Your Rights" would sound like parody if that aforementioned singles compilation hadn't already burned it into my brain.
It's weird that the criticism lobbied toward this album seems to be that it was, like, a commercial sellout. Beyond those two tracks, there's nothing really accessible here. I guess the gap between all the dub shit on Sandinista! and the straightforwardness of "Rock the Casbah" was enough to convince people that the Clash went in a different direction. I actually wish they had gone in the opposite direction as they do here. I would've respected a dozen dank-ass dub songs on an album. I might not have liked it, but it would have been a stronger artistic choice. Combat Rock just seems half-assed.
I still like it, though. I fall victim to the same comparison game as anyone else. Tough to recover from casually knocking out a few masterpieces. There's nowhere to go from there, except make something that's a bit lacking. It's a good album, but I've seen this band do better.
"Why do you want this? To watch 500 movies you've never seen before?" "To be acknowledged for who and what I am, no more, no less. Not for acclaim, not for approval, but, the simple truth of that recognition. This has been the elemental drive of my blog, and it must be achieved, if I am to live or die with dignity."
Bicentennial Man
1999
Chris Columbus
Thanks to Sean E. for picking his Already Seen It film for this quarter, and sending a prompt on how I should respond to it. Now powering up Sean-Bot 2000:
~~~~~~~~~~
I just rewatched the movie. I first saw it during an E**** Family Friday movie night. We rented the movie from Toms River Video, not that corporate giant Blockbuster!
A few thoughts for you to respond to (in no particular order):
In futuristic movies, it is always hysterical to see what new technology exists and what old technology persists. Credit cards are now credit discs, but there are still paper checks! They have walking, talking androids, but people still drive their own cars!
Many companies, especially in China, are now producing humanoid robots. The big AI companies keep saying we are close to generalized artificial intelligence (what I assume Andrew has). Do you think we are close to the world in the film, or do you think all these "new" technologies are more hype than science fiction come to life?
What does it mean to think and how is this different from what generative AI does (i.e. predict)?
Why don't you think this movie did better when it came out?
Did you know that this movie is based on a novelette by Issac Asimov (book club alum)? He also wrote I, Robot. Interestingly, Bicentennial Man and I, Robot exist in the same universe... Thoughts on a remake of both movies?
~~~~~~~~~~~~
I think what I worry about—this is Joe, doing the human thinking and human typing—is that someone could watch this movie in 2026 and wish that something like ChatGPT or Claude could be like Andrew in Bicentennial Man. Or that someone might misinterpret what generative AI does, thinking that the predictive text in the "chat" is actual intelligence. "It's possible! Look at Andrew Martin!" I don't think I'm making things up here, I'm being serious. There are people like this. They walk among us.
But that's creating a villain out of nothing. Actually, hold up, was there a villain in this movie? I like that there wasn't. There were roadblocks that our protagonist had to overcome, but there wasn't any one person who was facing off with Andrew. Bureaucracy is the closest we get to a villain, I guess? But even then, it was right for the government to question whether Andrew was human. They didn't have the benefit of seeing his growth throughout the centuries. The world leaders were basically asking another version of the question Sean asks above: what does it mean to think? That's a different question then "what makes us human?" I believe that something like a pigeon has the ability to think, but not make decisions based on higher levels of functioning, i.e. morality... I guess? I'm just thinking out loud here. That pigeon argument could be applied to someone like, uh, our current president. I believe that he has the ability to think, but I don't believe trump to be human.
There's a version of this story, of course, that has the android Andrew Martin learn to think and feel and it amounts to him being an evil fascist or something. That's a vastly different movie, and I'm glad we got this one. A robot who knows how to think and gradually becomes more human is a more unique story. It's so easy for me to hate on AI, and I believe in the depths of my soul that it is evil and that it is a pox on society. It's harder for me to imagine the fictional scenario in which artificial intelligence discovers his own soul and becomes one of us. But this is a nice family-friendly Chris Columbus movie, which makes it easy, and pleasant, and fun.
Is the opposite version of this story what I, Robot is about? I saw that Will Smith movie years ago, can't really remember much. I know that I recognized the three laws of robotics when Andrew spouting them off here, and that's probably from I, Robot. I remember that Smith's character hated robots because they followed those rules and it resulted in his kid drowning or something. I remember Shia LaBeouf beating the shit out of a horde of robots with a baseball bat, and it's this final memory that makes me think that I, Robot probably had robots turning evil. They learned to think and feel and that's why they were subjugating humanity, right? That feels like an easier story. A more satisfying one, sure—this is probably the only time in my life I wish I was Shia LeBeouf, so much would I love to bash a robot with a baseball bat—but a less challenging one. I like movies that challenge my beliefs. Feels like a more worthy endeavor.
I don't think you'd be able to remake either movie without addressing the AI thing. I'd like to think that my own view on the subject is pretty representative of the "common man's view." I will unfortunately also report that I believe that I am a fucking moron, willfully undereducated on AI and what the fuck it even is, an extreme reactionary on the subject (for good reasons and bad). Would I trust a Chris Columbus type to make a Bicentennial Man that appropriately and intelligently addresses this very real concern, without being smirking or winking about it? No, I do not.
We can just be happy with what we have here. A nice, pleasant, optimistic look at the future from the perspective of the late-20th century. It's an engaging film. It moves with finesse through the different eras of Andrew's life. I never thought anything felt forced, not even Andrew falling in love with his old master's granddaughter. I also thought that it was cool to see Robin Williams in non-manic mode. He's not as annoying as, like, Jim Carrey when he's going off-the-wall chattering. I'd choose Genie over Ace any day of the week. But I liked another view of his range. If the whole point is that this robot has depth, then you need an actor who can portray that, and I thought Williams did a great job.
As to why it didn't do well, commercially or critically, at the time of its release... this isn't really a new theory for me, but I think that the '90s were too hip and cynical, Gen X too invested in irony, that they weren't really interested in a heart-on-sleeve story about a corny-ass robot. It's "lame" to ask big questions, to follow a protagonist who is kind, to allow a story to reach its natural Hallmark greeting card conclusion. I would like to think that there is less time for putting up walls like that, here in in 2026, and that we as a society (or at least me as a person) are more willing to engage in stories that just make us feel good. I can never love this movie, because it is lame, but I like it a lot, again, because it is lame. I'm comfortable feeling good about myself and about my world. It's not high art, but I don't need high art every single outing. Feeling good can feel good too.
Then again, it's harder to feel good as "artificial intelligence" becomes a ubiquitous part of our culture. It will never reach the level that Andrew reached here, but the fact that there are people even trying, and the fact that society seems to be obsessed with that particular fool's errand, to all of our detriment, means that Bicentennial Man managed to catch us at the very last moment that we could ever feel good about any of this shit. I appreciate the film for its timing more than anything.
GRADE: 3.5 pukes out of 5
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
NEXT TIME: Group outing with After Hours, make sure you get in those surveys if you want to join us in October!
September 7, 2026. 39.97166, -75.19625. See the updated map here. See all the blog posts here.
If you zoom in, you're gonna need this: NSFW.
This is the reason that Blogger makes these photos such low quality, because they knew some fucking dude who still uses Blogger would make a photo-of-the-day project and post a picture every day and at some point in the first 250 days post an image of two monkeys fucking on top of a climbing tower at the zoo. So they started reducing the quality of the photographs, to make you really work for the sight of those two monkeys fucking.
But they're there, if that's your thing.
I don't know how much the kids comprehended about what was happening. Willow used the phrase "they're kissing," and it's possible the Catholic school schoolyard whispers have taught her more than that, I don't know. I tried saying "they're probably fighting," but I don't know if any of the kids bought it; that bit is pulled from a deep memory from Shelbourne Street when two stray cats were fucking in the backyard and my sister started crying and saying "mommy they're fighting!" I don't know how old I was at the time, but I recall thinking that the cats were fucking and that my sister had hilariously mistaken the situation.
I'm not, like, concerned about any of this. It was actually pretty hilarious. Jokes were made that would really push this blog post into NSFW territory, so I'll stop while I'm behind.
Enjoy the pic!
Oh and this one too. The monkey put in some hard work and collapsed on the floor in exhaustion, while his monkey pal high-fived him. No lie.
The name of this mixtape is an inside joke for two people who have never read, and probably never will read, this blog. The week before my wedding, I realized the band we hired wouldn't have enough playing time for the entire event. So I made a playlist, and it was all like Motown/R&B. Then I gave my cousin access, who's very much a sorority-girl personality, and she added American pop. Then I gave access to my spouse's cousin, and she added Punjabi pop. It was a great playlist. I honestly don't think that a wedding DJ would have done a better job, because we had people dancing the whole night. Both of these songs made it on the playlist, and neither of the other two playlist contributors had any idea who the Chi-Lites were, but they both loved Beyoncé. —Gloria
"Let Me Clear My Throat" by DJ Kool
from Let Me Clear My Throat, 1996
"Hollywood Swinging" by Kool & the Gang
from Wild and Peaceful, 1973
"The 900 Number" by the 45 King
from The 900 Number EP, 1992
"Unwind Yourself" by Marva Whitney
from It's My Thing, 1969
I used to think that sampling was lesser art, but in my adult life, I've been fully converted. I love it. I love the way that sampling can tell its own story, and that you can trace a sound's history through the various ways it was used. There was a soul singer in the '60s, and she hired someone to play saxophone on one of her songs, and a dude in the '90s took that sax part and made a whole hip hop instrumental, and then later on that decade a dude in Philly took that sax sample, combined it with the intro to a song from a funk band in the '70s, and used them to rap over and hype up a crowd in Philly, in a warehouse club that I used to bike past the remains of in the 2010s, and that song in that warehouse was recorded, and played, over and over, in so many firehalls and block parties. You listen to "Let Me Clear My Throat" and you hear the ghost of Marva Whitney and the 45 King and Kool & the Gang and DJ Kool and the Delaware Ave. of classic Philly and the Shelbourne Street summers of my youth, all at the same time, thanks to those samples. —Joe
"Bad Things" by mgk and Camila Cabello
from Bloom, 2016
"Out of My Head" by Fastball
from All the Pain Money Can Buy, 1998
I first heard this song (both of them) on the radio. A few years ago, senior PoYB writer Sam pointed out that songs today were sampling songs that were big during our adolescence, referring to the Cabello section in particular. That insight has stuck with me. mgk is an artist that's, like, okay the first time you hear any particular single of his, but then each listen thereafter has rapid, rapid deteriorating value. Even though this isn't a sample or a cover exactly, all you're thinking about is fastball. —Sunny
This is the song pairing from my submission where I like each song and artist featured equally. Treats came out when I was in undergrad. Still, the album cover, with its cheerleader pyramid, makes me feel nostalgic for the start of the year in high school and being at every single football game because of marching band (and also not watching a single one of those games). I don't remember this at all, it wasn't an outstanding memory to me, but my sister says that when I came home from the first football game, I told her and my mom, "It was great! But I must not have been paying attention because I looked up and the scoreboard said that we had six points. I missed them getting the first five." And like, I 100% believe this story because I just had to Google how many points a touchdown was worth—I couldn't remember if it was four or six. So clearly the next four years of school did nothing to increase my knowledge of the most boring game in existence. —Gloria
"Fantasy" by Mariah Carey
from Daydream, 1995
"Big Energy" by Latto
from 777, 2022
"Genius of Love" by Tom Tom Club
from Tom Tom Club, 1981
"What are you going to do when you get out of jail? I'm gonna have some fun!" I'm watching Orange Is the New Black for the first time. Does Piper get better? Does she get any redeeming character development? She's easily the most dislikable character. Everyone else seems to have saving traits but her. I don't know. I just started Season 4, if that helps give context. I also know that I'm like thirteen years too late to be starting this series. —Gloria
ADDENDUM RE: "BIG ENERGY" — I'm at the gym and the guy next to me is playing this on his phone's speaker, which is kind of annoying, but it seems like kismet for this mxitape, so I guess I need to add it now. —Gloria
"Maple Leaves" by Jens Lekman
from Oh You're So Silent Jens, 2005
"Do You Wanna Dance" by the Mamas and the Papas
from If You Can Believe Your Eyes and Ears, 1966
If you're listening on Spotify, you're gonna get the newer version of this Lekman jam, which includes the violin part lifted from the Mamas/Papas song, but not a direct sample. If you're on YouTube, you'll hear the sample. There are multiple versions of this song. The version that I know and love is from the compilation album Oh You're So Silent Jens, which I received for Christmas one year in high school, and remains one of my favorites ("Black Cab" can be found there as well). But there were "too many clearance issues" by the time we as a society moved to streaming services, and that album and the next one lingered in limbo for a long time, to the point that Jens would be playing something like "Maple Leaves" in concert and younger fans would be like "oh shit, I liked that new song you played!" So what he did was rerecord those two albums, fixing any of those pesky legalities, and so now they exist in altered form on Spotify et al. But I have an iPod, and I still have the old versions, and YouTube occasionally lets fan uploads slip through the cracks, and so here we are. Switch over to YouTube if you wanna hear a vastly superior version of this great Jens Lekman song. —Joe
"Lady (Hear Me Tonight)" by Modjo
from Modjo, 2001
"Soup for One" by Chic
from Soup for One (soundtrack), 1982
I sing this song every time I make soup. Even if I am making soup for more than one person. I am making šaltibarščiai today, which I feel like I talked about on the blog before, but it is like a cold borscht. It's made with beets, sour cream, cucumbers, and dill. You can even have it with a hard-boiled egg or a potato if you want something more special. It's great, and was a summer favorite when I was growing up. —Gloria
"My Name Is" by Eminem
from The Slim Shady LP, 1999
"I Got The..." by Labi Siffre
from Remember My Song, 1975
Kelsey and I were driving somewhere the other week and her phone had control over the Spotify (i.e. we weren't listening to whatever RC was for the week). This came on, and she said "Do you recognize this song?", and I said "no," and then around two minutes I say, "oh, they're sampling rapper songwriter Eminem?" to which she replies "this song is from 1975." That really shook the snowglobe of my brain. —Sunny
"Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger" by Daft Punk
from Discovery, 2001
"Cola Bottle Baby" by Edwin Birdsong
from Edwin Birdsong, 1979
Apparently, Daft Punk found "Cola Bottle Baby" while digging through bins of vinyl records, and it just popped out. There's something more romantic about that than stumbling across a sample in some kind of digital archive. I think vinyl sampling is such a cool, hands-on creative process, one that really lets you rework and physically reshape sound. But maybe that's just me; I tend to gravitate toward analog over digital in general. —Gloria
"Big Poppa" by the Notorious B.I.G.
from Ready to Die, 1994
"Between the Sheets" by the Isley Brothers
from Between the Sheets, 1983
Man, I thought that I was done writing things for this mixtape, but I went to two very different bars on two different days this weekend, and this Biggie song played both times. That seems like too much of a coincidence not to include it on this mixtape. —Gloria
"Niños de Infiernos (Hell Boys)" by Charles Hamilton
from It's Charles Hamilton, 2008
"Straight to Hell" by the Clash
from Combat Rock, 1982
A Year of Blind Spots will be covering Combat Rock in a couple days, but in the meantime, you get to hear "Straight to Hell," a pretty decent song from that album, and before it, the ONLY song that has ever sampled "Straight to Hell." I don't know Charles Hamilton all that well. He's a favorite on RYM, that's where I recognize him from, and I've heard some of his stuff based on recommendations from that site. The song is fine too, probably just fine and okay in the same way "Straight to Hell" is just fine and okay. Charles Hamilton, as far as I know, is not a wacko antivaxxer or pals with Alex Jones, so I'm cool with saying that "Niños de Infiernos (Hell Boys)" is the only song that I know of that samples "Straight to Hell" by the Clash. —Joe
"Change in Speak" by De La Soul
from 3 Feet High and Rising, 1989
"Bra" by Cymande
from Cymande, 1972
There are multiple stages with a lot of overlapping sets at Newport Jazz Fest. Last year, I left Cymande's set when they were playing "Bra" toward the end to catch De La Soul, and when I got to the other stage, they were playing this song that sampled it! It was surreal. And I think a big part of this mixtape, for me, is how fun it is to explore the different influences and inspiration artists take from each other and build on one another. Inspiration is everywhere. —Gloria
NEXT MONTH: TBA for the next MMM on Monday, October 5th!
September 6, 2026. 40.07694, -75.08513. See the updated map here. See all the blog posts here.
How infinitesimally small we are in the grand scope of things, just a blip in human history. No one will remember this day, or what I did. It won't matter. Do you think the person or people who sold this building in 17xx ever thought that it would one day be a sushi restaurant? They didn't even know what sushi was, how could they? The thing that I haven't decided yet is whether this idea, this truth, is helpful or harmful. How can I live in the here and now if the here and now isn't real? But how can I give up the chance to be an exception, however miniscule that chance is?
It's the return of the RC Algorithm! Check it out HERE!
You remember this, from approximately 200 weeks ago, right? I made an Excel spreadsheet, and I read through every RC review over the past 200 weeks, marking down every non-RC artist that was mentioned in each review. The algorithm then uses those counts to choose an album for us. The list is reproduced three times, each in a different order—one grouped by artists mentioned, one grouped by author who made mentions, and one grouped by albums that elicited the mention of another artist. For shits and giggles, the fourth group is a full list of all the artist mentions from the past 400 weeks.
During Weeks 399 and 400, we'll be covering the two artists that were mentioned those most since circa Thanksgiving 2022 (Eminem and Lana Del Rey, respectively). Like last time, I didn't include any artist who has already been covered or has since been covered by Record Club (or the Beatles, who aren't eligible until Week 500). I didn't include any artist who was involved in the making of that album (a feature, a backing musician, a production or writing credit, etc.). And I didn't include anyone who I'd just rather not involve in this club for "cancel culture" related reasons (which is not a rule, but a suggestion, and since I was making the damn Excel spreadsheet, I took my own suggestion).
For Weeks 397 and 398, I had our two most consistent Record Club members (Sunny and Nate) choose artists from the Algorithm, and then pick an album from that artist. Which, true, isn't in the spirit of what an "algorithm" is supposed to do, but I'd argue that algorithms can suck my fucking dick, and fuck any algorithm when it's involved in making music choices. You think I'm gonna enjoy reviewing a fucking Lana Del Rey album in three weeks? Fuck no. So for a couple weeks, let's take the power back, and let the people choose the albums.
Anyways, this is just a fun little way to get some Record Club picks in here, especially in the aftermath of our RC Summer Homework project. Hope you enjoy the tunes, and as always, please let us know what you think.
NATE'S PITCH: "Have you not enjoyed the experience of driving around this town? Would you not like to take a spin down Allison Road? I don't know about the second one because I don't think it's on this album. You found about me, as it were. Anyway, listen to it."
JOE'S RESPONSE: "Am I going crazy, or did you pick the Streets album? And Sunny picked Gin Blossoms? I choose to view everything you do as a bit."
NATE'S PITCH, REVISED: "Nah, I probably didn't read it right. Keep this all in. Anyway: the Streets! Perhaps the worst 'great' album I've ever heard, in that its sum so far outstrips its parts. Perfect small story in that it can become an entire worldview. Let us pray."
THE ALGORITHM EXPLANATION: I asked Nate and Sunny to choose an artist (and an eligible album from that artist) from the RC Algorithm, but limited it to artists that were only mentioned once in the last 200 weeks of RC reviews. I also asked that they refrain from choosing artists that were mentioned in a Joe review or a Nate review or a Sunny review, but this was too high of an ask, so we're getting an artist that I (Joe) mentioned in my review for Famoe's 16Bars Rap-Blog EP. It's good to add Famoe back into the fold, I wonder what he's up to? Though this "review" was actually my annual year-end ranking of that year's RC albums, and the Streets were offhandedly mentioned in the blurb about Jamie T's Panic Prevention. (For how I got to be writing about the Streets in the first place, see "Mentions on the Blog" below.)
ABOUT: The Streets is the moniker of Mike Skinner, who was born on November 27, 1978, in Barnet, London, England. The Streets is one of those music projects/bands that consists solely of one member. I suppose you could use plural pronouns for the Streets, even though it's mostly one person. Plus, there are contributors, as there would be on any rap album. But the Streets is basically just Mike Skinner. He started the project in his teens, but started releasing music in the early aughts. The Streets were commercially successful in the UK (and not in the U.S., for the most part), with five songs that hit the UK Top 40 (two from this album), including one number one ("Dry Your Eyes," also from this album). The Streets is considered an artist that greatly shaped the idea of UK rap, and his first two albums especially have been highly influential within the hip hop, garage (pronounced "GAR-idge"), and grime music genres. Mike Skinner retired the moniker in 2011, but brought it back in 2017, and is ostensibly working under the moniker currently.
DISCOGRAPHY: The Streets have six albums total. This is their second. The first was Original Pirate Material. 2011's Computer and Blues was the last one before the hiatus, but after coming back, they have released one more album, 2023's The Darker the Shadow the Brighter the Light. This doesn't include three mixtapes, and two EPs (a 2022 EP is called Brexit at Tiffany's).
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ADDITIONAL INFO
READING SOME SHIT: a 2020 retrospective that includes some details about the story within this album
WATCHING SOME SHIT:"Empty Cans" live, earlier this year
RECORD CLUB CONNECTIONS: Are we considering this album a hip hop opera? ("Hip-hopera" nope nope, can't say it, too cringe.) Somewhere along the line, we'll have to distinguish between a "[genre] opera" and a "concept album." Feels like a square/rectangle thing. A concept album has a shtick, all the songs are related thematically in some way, and an opera has a shtick, and that shtick is that the album tells one cohesive story over the course of the entire tracklist. I haven't done a good job of keeping track of "concept albums" over RC's history, but I think we can safely say that this is the fourth "opera," unless I'm forgetting something (usually am—it's been seven and a half years!). This album follows The Family Tree: The Roots, In Keeping Secrets of Silent Earth: 3, and Year of the Goat.
I saw that Tame Impala was on one of the Streets' mixtapes at one point. Most of the other collaborators in this discography are UK artists I've never heard of, though. Even on the list of UK number-one hits, the songs topping the charts around the time "Dry Your Eyes" did is a healthy mix of artists that everyone knows and artists that only British people know. Britney Spears was the only RC alumnus to hit #1 in 2004 too (though the 2004 version of "Do They Know It's Christmas?" hit #1 at the end of that year, and that single involves contributions from Gorillaz and Radiohead).
MENTIONS ON THE BLOG: When I search for "streets" using the Blogger search tool, I get 235 results. It's possible that more than one of those is referring the UK hip hop artist the Streets. The only one that I can think of off the top of my head as actually about this artist, though, is Fisher's selection of a Streets song for Summer Song Challenge on Day 59. At the end of that week, I said that I liked the song enough that I wanted to explore this artist, which eventually led me to Original Pirate Material. That album made it to my Top Non-2023 Albums I Heard for the First Time list in 2023 (that's a bangin' list, all hits back in 2023, goddamn). But I never moved past that album, so I'm excited for the opportunity to do so this week!
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RECORD CLUB ALUMNI ASSOCIATION
This week's discography dive album: Remember by Rusted Root
This week's follow-up album:The Mountain by Gorillaz and Kiss All the Time. Disco, Occasionally by Harry Styles, maybe more
This week's keeping up album (probably): Still nothing I'm too interested in downloading, so I'll keep the focus on the follow-up albums, at least until the new Carly Rae Jepsen drops in a couple weeks.
Listen with us! Keep your favorite Record Club artists in the rotation!
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COUNTDOWN:
69 Weeks Until Week 420
about to cross the STREET
We are tracking and counting down every week from here on out till Record Club Week 420. We started this countdown 69 weeks out. During Record Club Week 420, we will be covering Donny Most by the esteemed Happy Days virgin Donny Most. The goal for Week 420 of Record Club is that it will feature 69 reviews from 69 different people.
The Record Club Alumni Association meets every week to discuss the larger body of work that our RC alumni have put together, outside of the specific albums that were covered in the main section of our club. You can follow along with everything that the RCAA has covered so far HERE.
They were noted, during those first few weeks of this here Record Club, at least by a few people who aren't necessarily "into music" in a way that some of us are, that CHAI were "weird" or whatever. That misconception has been put to bed continuously over the past seven years. CHAI are, in fact, really fucking cool. Their first album (and last new-to-me album of theirs ever, since they broke up in 2024) proves it unequivocally. Cool as fuck. That breakdown on "N.E.O." feels like something that they could've explored more as the years went on, but I'm glad they were at least having that level of fun here at the beginning. The high pitch of the vocals is not really a concern anymore, now that I've been listening to this band for so long. It sounds natural. It sounds fun. I have trouble telling some of the songs apart, but only because the YouTube embed that I listened to had Japanese language titles. Generally, you don't really need to tell them apart. They are all high energy, and that's what makes them cool. Fuck, I love this band. They will always have a special place in my heart, and I'm proud to say I'm familiar with their whole discography now. PINK feels like it might be their best! Maybe that's just recency bias, or maybe my love has grown for this band enough that the closest album to my ears sounds like their best. Not sure. Right now, PINK is the closest.
Just because something exceeds expectations doesn't mean it's good. You have to first consider where the expectations were in the first place. If I thought that this album was going to be an unmitigated disaster and in reality it was pretty serviceable pop music, then that doesn't mean I liked it. It was fine, it was bearable. I'd rather listen to Hilary Duff coo her way through whatever her and her musician husband slapped together then listen to boring-ass "serious" singer-songwriter croon something that isn't even trying to be fun. Duff's husband did, in fact, work with (and also date, for a bit) Carly Rae Jepsen, so you can use that as a reasonable comparison. The comparison I also felt was Mandy Moore, who is also a middle-aged actress who is making serviceable pop-adjacent music with her musician husband. The cracks show with Duff's product, though, and the cracks are deep. The cracks betray that this is all a performance. It doesn't feel real. I know that's what pop music is, a performance, but I'd like to think the best pop music helps me forget that. The best pop music, for example, would not need to kowtow to our nostalgia-obsessed generation by covering a blink-182 song. Nor would it have lyrics as boilerplate and TikTok-verbiage-informed as this. But that's how it goes here, and as I said, it could have been sooooooo much worse. (P.S. Yo Duff, I know you're out here hamming it up with your vampiric music-industry-destroying ex-boyfriend, stop that shit right now!)
GRADE: 2.5 pukes out of 5
Jack Harlow
Thats What They All Say — RC Week 171 — 0.5 pukes out of 5
Saying that this is the best Jackman Harlowman album I've ever heard is like being thankful that you got the most treatable cancer. It's still a cancer. It sounds like I'm saying the same thing about Monica that I am about the Hilary Duff album above, but I'm not. That was always gonna be pop music, it was just a coin flip as to which flavor. Harlowman switches up genres completely on us, here on his newest album. I was originally going to say "this fucker set me up and purposefully moved into my least favorite genre!" However, I thought about it some more, and yeah, while I do indeed typically come down hard on R&B in my life, I think I would take R&B over cringey white-boy hip-pop every single time. Jackman Harlowman is taking himself very seriously here, hiring some very serious beret'd Black jazz musicians to play softly while Harlowman mumbles his way though some '90s R&B lyrics (but, like, the basement version of them, e.g. "I wish I could trade places with that lamppost / I like the way you lean on that damn post"). If I HAD to say something optimistic—and I really, really don't, but I will anyway—I'd say that there is credit due for at least trying something different. Sometimes I prefer to be enraged over being bored, but something about Jackman Harlowman gives me palpitations, so to protect my fragile heart, I'll choose being bored today, and I'll be thankful for it.
GRADE: 2 pukes out of 5
Footballhead
Overthinking Everything — RC Week 266 — 3 pukes out of 5
Weight of the Truth
March 20, 2026
Correct me if I'm wrong, but Footballhead is operating in a slightly different genre than they were before too, right? Unlike Jackman Harlowman, Footballhead moved slightly in a direction that I might not have preferred them to move, but that's okay. It's not like Footballhead was making a huge impact on me with their alt-rock jumble the first time around, so why the fuck not add some metal/alt-metal/nü-metal into the mix? I'm not in love with this sound, but like I said above, trying something new is usually enough to hold my interest. This sounds like blink-182 attempting to do Linkin Park sometimes. The latter is a symptom of the overwrought metal-ish stylings, but the former is a symptom of a weak vocal performance. My dude just doesn't have much range. It's all good, though, for real. There's a bunch of people out there for whom Weight of the Truth is right up their alley. For the rest of us normies, it's just okay. Probably more memorable than if they attempted middle-of-the-road alt-rock again. Come on, though, listen to "Used to Be" et al., can't you just picture the dudes in middle school rocking baggy black jeans and wallet chains listening to this shit? I like thinking about it, but only because that's better than the competing thought ("why are we doing this?").
GRADE: 2.5 pukes out of 5
(Random RCAA News)
Jelly Roll is finally talking politics, and it (surprisingly?) is taking the form of shit-talking trump while guest-hosting Jimmy Kimmel Live. While being anti-trump is by no means progressive in any way, shape, or form, it is at the very least a relief that this jabroni isn't up there spouting MAGA shit, ya know?
Sturgill Simpson played his first live gig in a while, with his band Johnny Blue Skies and the Dark Clouds, a set that included a Talking Heads cover.
At this festival in NY at the end of the month, the second and third days are 50% comprised of RC alumnae, including: Brandi Carlile, Ethel Cain, CMAT, Muna, the Beaches, and Carly Rae Jepsen.
Alanis Morissette is having a rough time with her former tour manager.
September 4, 2026. 39.92273, -75.18484. See the updated map here. See all the blog posts here.
It's the same thing, repeating, over and over, the more I try to break the cycle the more it all circles back upon me. Off to adventures unknown, and I pass a cheesesteak shop, one that I was at almost exactly six years ago, give or take a few days, flip-flop an AM and PM. I think about that year and how it was so different than this year, and yet here I am, in the glow of the same far-off cheesesteak destination, not stopping this time, so many differences, so many, so many, but it still feels the same to me. I try to mix it up but it always comes back to how it was. I try to overcome old fear and shake off old tensions and quash old anxieties, but here they are, again and again. This isn't a complaint, just an observation, how I'll always feel this way and there doesn't seem to be anything I can do to break that cycle.
I didn't get a cheesesteak. I can't do that anymore. So there's that, I guess.
BONUS PICTURE: I was hanging out near Purple Orchid, and I still always think of it as Purple Orchid I, even though it's been like 20 years since they shut down Purple Orchid II. Same ol' story. I think about it every time I pass the building that used to house it, and the early blog post it inspired. The more things change...
UPDATE! The comments aren't working. Feel free to email me your comments if you have any, and I'll add them here!
NATE: blogger is not accepting comments at this time, so I share it here: Blue Jays won last night.
JOE: Two double-digit weeks in a row. Very proud of RC this summer. Reading what my friends write is sincerely one of my favorite things in my life, and it makes me so goddamn happy every Friday morning to see 'em all bunched together on this blog. Thanks.
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Original post:
Thanks for hanging out with us this summer in Record Club. I don't have the exact numbers now, but I think that there were probably 30 or 40 extra reviews that came from the constant badgering of people via email. Which is so cool! We love fresh perspectives here at RC.
Give us your fresh perspective for this one. What did you think? Did any of the reviews change your mind about the Strokes, their newest album, autotune, anything like that? Let's chat in the comments, before Labor Day turns summer in fall.
O life! I go to encounter for the millionth time the reality of experience and to forge in the smithy of my soul the uncreated conscience of my race.
I farmed out my writing this week to anyone I could. If I could play the album around someone I would. If I found someone who just wanted to share their love of the Strokes I hung around and listened. The short answer: it's mixed.
I didn't point this out, but Richard Prince didn't really care much about reality or what it portended, in and of itself. But maybe that's the point, plus the dripping amounts of autotune, to poke at reality a bit.
It's not my favorite album, but the lowest point here clears the bar. Odd heaters like "Psycho Shit" and "Falling Out of Love" work, and simple melodies like "Going Shopping" deliver the band's original promise. By the end of two weeks of listening to it, I land on having a good time.
The soul is not a smithy, the mind not a smith. But the infinite band of life begs for bending; the seeking of color from grey, for color's sake.
What did you do this summer? I learned to crochet, read the entire Game Changer series (well, I'm finishing the sixth book tonight and I need to talk to people about it), had a lovely vacation in Lancaster, saw Death Cab for Cutie in concert, and remembered how to like things again. I also listened to this incredibly mid album by the Strokes.
I'm not too familiar with the Strokes' catalog outside of their big hits. And of course, Julian Casablancas' collab with the Lonely Island, "Boombox," which is arguably better than anything on this album. I like Casablancas' voice normally, but I was really turned off by his reliance on Auto-Tune for most of these tracks. Is this always what the Strokes sound like? It felt both dated and too similar to the garbage uncanny-valley AI-generated music I've been hearing in the wild. Everything else was just kind of boring.
I'm just going to say what we're all thinking: the true album of the summer is Death Cab for Cutie's I Built You a Tower. This blog is a prison!
