Saturday, July 25, 2026

Record Club Alumni Association — Minutes from Meeting #07: Gal Costa, Willie Nelson, the Rolling Stones


(Deeper Dive)

Gal Costa

Gal CostaRC Week 167 — 3 pukes out of 5

Gal
1969 (exact date unknown)

Holy shit, this is nuts. And the fact that it was nuts was... well, not totally unexpected, but at least mostly unexpected, right? Gal Costa was pleasant music that trended toward "oldies" in a non-American way. Tropicália is a genre that you don't really think of as "progressive" in any way. But there were cracks in Gal Costa where the weird poked through. Gal, the follow-up, takes that weird and blows it up to widescreen. The entire thing is weird. Weird, and fascinating, and ballsy, and wild. This is dense psychedelia, and Gal Costa full transforms herself to meet the need that this music requires. She's out here wailing over musique concrète basically. I wonder what RC would've made of Gal Costa if this is where we met her. I personally would've been perplexed and maybe a little tired. But having Gal Costa in my life for five years now and then diving into something that completely smashes my image of her? Not tired at all. I am reinvigorated. Gal Costa is a fucking BADASS. What in the fuck is even happening here.

GRADE: 4 pukes out of 5


(Follow-up)

Willie Nelson

Red Headed StrangerRC Week 318 — 3 pukes out of 5
Oh What a Beautiful WorldRC f/u #50 — 3 pukes out of 5

Workin' Man: Willie Sings Merle
November 7, 2025

I'm not too familiar with Merle Haggard, besides knowing the name and his chosen genre and one song thanks to Song Challenge. But I'm becoming familiar with Willie Nelson through the very back end of his catalog (due to the self-imposed obligations of the RCAA), and I can say that nonagenarian Willie Nelson singing the classic country songs of yesteryear is a logical move, and Willie Nelson singing the classic country songs that his dead friend wrote is an emotionally effective move. The only piece of the puzzle that is missing for me (and not for this album's intended audience) is a familiarity with the songs themselves. Apparently, these are some of Haggard's most well-known tunes. I am not very aware of the classic country songbook, but I like the innocence of these songs, generally. It reminds me of something I'd have heard in Nashville. It goes down easy. Best of all, though, is the idea of someone missing their friend and thinking on their friendship and having fun making art while reminiscing. It's clear that Willie Nelson is doing just that on Workin' Man, and that's what puts it slightly ahead of any other late-stage Nelson album that might drop here in the 21st century.

GRADE: 3.5 pukes out of 5


(Keeping Up)

The Rolling Stones

Steel WheelsRC Week 24 — 1.5 pukes out of 5
Hackney DiamondsSong of the Week — 3 pukes out of 5

Foreign Tongues
July 10, 2026

The Rolling Stones are old, and anything they release in 2026 is going to be, by definition, inessential. That's okay. That's the baseline we're starting at, and I'm okay with you. You know why? Because Charlie Watts isn't on this album. I HATE the de-aging deepfakery of "In the Stars," but can you imagine how much worse it would've been if we had to watch a de-aged Charlie Watts sourpuss his way through this bullshit? The Stones are old and inessential, so I say this with a healthy dose of irony and sarcasm, don't worry, but: the Rolling Stones are a better band without Charlie Watts. ANYWAY, the hope with these kinds of things is that they can give us at least two great songs. They do enough here to get there. The aforementioned "In the Stars," if you ignore the video, is one of them. The other is "Divine Intervention." Both choruses absolutely soar for these two songs. And in 2026, on a new Rolling Stones album, two great songs is way more than enough to keep me satisfied. Certainly more than enough to even out nonsense like "Mr. Charm." I think it's fun to think about the Stones in the present, even though, of course, fucking DUH, it's no Sticky Fingers. If you expected that, you're a moron. Give me two good songs.

GRADE: 3 pukes out of 5


(Random RCAA News)

In My Place 205

July 24, 2026. 40.08448, -75.09376. See the updated map here. See all the blog posts here.


I can feel the long hand of capitalism, how there are powers effecting change in my life, millions of tiny little pushes on the small of my back down this path, toward this store, in an effort to get me to spend my money on this product specifically, the ingredients that are designed to be bad for you but addictive, the advertisements that have infiltrated my subconscious, the sense of pleasure I get when I have a taste, the memories formed for me and my middle kid, her especially, years from now she'll think back and remember those moments that she bonded with her dad, waiting the ten minutes in the lobby of the mass-produced pizza shop, playing word games, excited for the pizza she waited all week for, that nostalgia pulling her back toward this very shop like it does me, even though I know, I know it's not good, it's a net negative, except that I had a long week too, and so why not get pizza, why not get it from here, why not.

Friday, July 24, 2026

Discussion — Week 390: Being So Normal by Peach Pit


I started this last week and I'm going to continue it this week, and see how it feels as we progress from here on out—the end-of-week discussion thread featuring an image of the rear artwork on the CD packaging for the album. Otherwise, we'd be forced to stare at a picture of an actual pit of a peach.

Now that we are wrapping up Peach Pit week, what did you think? Did any of the reviews change your mind? Join us in the comments. I'll be down there. Happy Friday, everybody, we fucking made it.

Being So Normal, Sunny


I had a friend from pandemic time who confused Passion Pit and Peach Pit. There’s no more to that anecdote; I just come to realize he's confused them on name alone.

What a fun piece of surf rock. The combination of groovy basslines, easy melodies and hooks, solid indie rock voice, and semi-sense lyrics lands right in my wheelhouse.

I dialed into this album on Monday and have been with it since. I like side A a bit more with "Guillotine," "Normal," and "Aphrodite." Side B things get a little too moody and surf rock voice a little serious. But also in the back half they do some freeform nonsense which has its own good feel. It's summer, season for stone fruit and pits. Rip that shit again.

Being So Normal, Allison


Look, it's not Peach Pit's fault that for the last five weeks I've only wanted to listen to Death Cab for Cutie's new album, I Built You a Tower. But it is their fault that they've chosen to sound like Vampire Weekend meets Phish. Peach Pit's debut album, Being So Normal, has a few near-earworms in kind of catchy tracks like "Chagu's Sideturn" (obligatory "who?") and "Alrighty Aphrodite," but the album just barely held my interest. I don't think I need an indie pop jam band, thanks though. I'll keep listening to Death Cab for Cutie's new album, I Built You a Tower

2/5

Being So Normal, Nate


There are many recurring daydreams. Maybe you've had this one: with the wave of a hand and in a liminal space without end (think the milky white loading world that Morpheus and Neo occupy at points in The Matrix), every single people on the early is suddenly present and placed in a "best to worst" order. The scale can change: maybe it's looks, maybe it's how funny they are, maybe it's an ethical judgement on "good to bad." The daydream allows for a true objectivity, and for one to placed in a line, know their order in a group. 

My uncle once said to his progressive daughter, during an argument that was either about the ethics of land ownership or the politics of recognizing gender fluidity, that in order for him to make his way in the world, he needed to put people into groups. All people need to fall within ten to fifteen groups. He said he was not picky about how those groups were constructed ("You can make the groups! You tell me the groups!"), but that he needed the ability to bundle people together to make the world coherent for himself.

The fear enters my house only at night, and only in the handful of minutes before I go to bed alone. Waking to a noise at 2:30 AM does not bring the fear. One of the children calling out in the blackness does not bring the fear. The fear comes in dusk light, in the fading orange glow of a bedside lamp casting deep, soft shadows on a mostly dim room. Sleep will come, but in the moments before I sometimes imagine that there is, on the sidewalk, an entity shrouded in black, slowly making its way into the house, going from room to room and looming its negative face over the sleeping eyes and mouths of the other bodies in the house. It checks for sleep. It looks for a long time, and if you were to open your eyes you would really see it, but sleep is the protection. It can tell when you are faking, so the job becomes pretending to fall asleep so hard that it actually happens. 

4/10

Being So Normal, Gloria


I've been having a hard time knowing what to write for this, as I think it's a near-perfect album and one of my favorites. But I don't want to write about how an album is good. But I guess it's better than writing about an album that I think is bad?

I'm sitting in a coffee shop and decided to put it on my headphones and write for the length of the album, whatever comes to mind that is not related to music directly.

The first thing I think about is how there is one person who knows how to drop the guillotine on me. One of the only people who I've loved who could deeply destroy me with a few words. And I wonder how much of that is because they've been diagnosed with narcissistic tendencies and how much of that is just because they are an Aquarius.  

I read once that your soul works through the different Zodiac signs during its reincarnations. As in Aries are newer souls, so things feel harder for them. They still have so much to learn, and it's so hard to be a person stumbling through Earth for the first time. And as a Pisces, I'm almost done, ready for my soul to no longer be mine, but rather for it to dissolve and go back into the great cosmic soup. So, it makes sense, as an Aquarius has seen just about the same number of reincarnations as a Pisces would have, so that they would understand a heart's weak spots differently.

But I don't really know if I believe any of that. I also don't know if I'm ready for my soul to be done with its earth reincarnations. I think about that a lot and I think that there are still lives that I'd like to live. But maybe I'll feel differently when I'm older and live more in this lifetime. 

I mostly want to believe in astrology when it tells me exactly what I want to hear. And it's right often enough that I can't help but have some belief in it. I'm always so mesmerized when I put my birth information into compatibility calculators with someone else's data; it's accurate, but you need the exact date, birth location, and time. I was born at 7:30 AM on the day the Gulf War ended, in case you want to see what an internet astrology app would say about our compatibility. 

Because of the significance of that date and time, my mom almost named me Irene instead of Gloria, since it means peace. Irene is the daughter of Zeus and Themis. She is the goddess of peace and the personification of harmony and wealth. That's a good name. I would have liked having that name too.

Aphrodite is the motherless daughter of Uranus, born from sea foam after he was castrated by Cronus and his genitals were thrown into the sea. She emerged from the sea fully grown (think Botticelli's The Birth of Venus), and is the goddess of love, beauty, procreation, and desire. The Pisces origin story comes from her too. In Greek mythology, Aphrodite and her son Eros jumped into the Euphrates River and transformed into fish to escape the murderous giant Typhon.

But I feel like this is too much about astrology and not at all about Peach Pit lyrics. Not at all about being normal.

I wondered if Chagu is also a god that I never heard of, and did a quick search on Google. He's not. He's a musician and was the band's tour guide in Indonesia. Chagu kept saying, "we got to side turn sometime." But that ended up being slang for doing crystal meth. You definitely don't need to side turn sometimes.

And that's 37 minutes. It's less thoughts than I thought I'd have, but that's fine. I was constantly distracted by how good this album is.

Being So Normal, Joe


Good stuff! I liked this one.

"It's never a straight line with the bozo" I can hear you say, under your breath, as you read the opening lines to this album review for Being So Normal by Peach Pit. "What's the catch?" There's no catch. There's no punchline. I'm stating my opinion, from a place of honesty and a wish for purity. I liked the album. I thought it was catchy. Four young lads putting together some nice tunes, that fit firmly and comfortably in the zeitgeist of the time into which it was released. The mid-'10s. It rises to the middle-top of the heap of the thousands of bands like them, and the spotlight placed upon this work of art this week in the ritual of Record Club made it rise a little more, made my appreciation for it grow. This is a good thing. It's a good album.

Still waiting for the But? It's not coming. Don't get your hopes up, okay?

I have often espoused the theory that the album review should offer a view of the author, as opposed to the music itself. You can gather your own opinion about the music from just listening to the damn music, but you can only gather an opinion of the author through the specific words that they write. So, often, my own personal album reviews have acted as a big blinking arrow light inward, toward my own innards, the guts within me that make me who I am. When I don't like an album, that means that the blinking arrow sign is pointing toward the rotten part of my slimy heart that dislikes albums like that, and the review offers a view of that rot and slime. That's what I choose to expose. To be offended by this view means you're doing it wrong. It means you're misunderstanding what I'm trying to do here. It means, in short, that I am a shitty writer, but there's not much we can do about that now, this late in the game.

It should work the other way too. When I like an album. Like I do now.

I was thinking about the video for "Drop the Guillotine," which I watched a few times (because my iPod is acting up again, and so I did the thing where I'm listening to my new (to me) music in embedded YouTube playlists sans commercials), and liked it better each time I saw it. In it, the frontman breaks away from the rest of the band and goes on his own little adventure. He makes his way through the theater department of his school and is placed in costume and forced into a mock tribunal in which he's yelled at by a bunch of other students in powdered wigs, and eventually banished to the pillory, a fate that he's mighty upset about. And I was thinking about how maybe that whole thing mirrors some part of the process here, how we get so passionate about this shit but ultimately it's all just playacting, we're all just wearing costumes, yelling because it's part of the theater of it all. And how maybe I don't need to put on the powdered wig every week, ya know? How maybe it would be nice to sometimes just say that an album is good, is nice, is pleasant.

Like, I don't have to turn over every stone. I could find flaws and talk about them here if I wanted to. But then, you see, the flaws become my own, and that creates drama and misunderstanding within the cracks of the artistic machinery, this being flawed design anyway, and I come off missing the target, which should be "what do I think about this album" and end up with some paltry version of "how am I feeling about myself this week," which is pretty stupid, overall. But I'm stupid, and this is how I've operated for 390 weeks in a row now, and it's just something we all gotta put up with for the remainder of my life.

I'm not talking about the album, by the way. Nothing negative to say. I'm not even worried. But if I did have something bad to say about it, then that would be reflected onto me. I don't, so it doesn't. I like this album and so I am feeling good about life. Or maybe I am feeling good about life and so I like the album. Either one, it doesn't matter. It's just nice, sometimes, to listen to an album, and be like, "oh damn, that song 'Chagu's Sideturn' is so catchy, I like that." Without the drama that becomes necessary when I don't like something. The drama that I create, in the act of turning the criticisms inward. There's nothing curdling this week, no negativity to stuff deep. It's not that type of album. It's just good.

I don't have much of a job when it comes to these types of albums. It's not revelatory, and so I don't need to explain why it is. It's just a normal good album. And, as I've already said too many times now, it's not bad, so I don't have to explain why I'm a piece of shit for not liking it. It's just a nice, pleasant album. We've covered plenty of artists of this quality in this dinky little music club before—your MJ Lendermans, your Jalen Ngondas, your EarthGangs, your Haitus Kaiyotes, your Districtses, your Footballheads, all of them good in the classic sense, all of them nice to listen to, all of them pleasant, none of them really inspiring anything interesting to say, just normal pleasant goodness. And typically, I think I default to something negative in this context too. I.e. if there's nothing interesting to say beyond "it's good," then that must mean "it's boring," which is in itself bad.

But I'm not gonna do that here, with our pals Peach Pit. I do not think there is anything interesting in the music itself, but I do think it's interesting to strip that expectation away every once in a while, and just view the quality of the music for what it is, not what it means. If I'm listening to this indie rock album and I like it and it's pleasant and I don't have any strong opinions about it in either direction from that starting point, then instead of asking myself why those opinions aren't strong, I'm just taking it for what it is. That this is just a good album, and I like it, and it doesn't have to be any deeper than that. Accuse me of using this as a defense mechanism, I don't give a fuck. I don't need to put up with strong opinions this week. That is my choice. I'm choosing to say that I like Being So Normal by Peach Pit, and that, for this week and maybe possibly only this week, is enough.

GRADE: 3 pukes out of 5

The Highwomen, Sunny


I picked the album for today because we did the Brandi Carlile album. I didn't read the post, but I scanned through it and saw a Blind Spots post on the Highwaymen. I'll come back to that. I ended up liking this album more than the Brandi album. That might be because I had more time or openness to it this week. But it's also this interesting experience of coming into a supergroup album not really knowing any of the artist, not really being into the genre, not really being into the themes.

I listened to the album maybe three and a half times total, but after the first time, I remembered that Blind Spots post, and I went back and read it, and listened to the first song. I was like... oh, I see. It's an homage/parody that the Highwomen are doing. I didn't know about that either. Clearly my adult autism brain paused for a moment, and was like, "If it's the Highwaymen, then it should be the Highwaywomen." Highwomen is something else. Highwomen sounds much better than Highwaywomen, so that probably matters more. But that did get stuck in my craw for a bit.

So rethinking about the album in that sense, through the second and third time, I came to liking it. The first two songs really do answer the question of "what is a Highwomen?" Ya know, "Highwoman, she was in Iran-Contra, and she escaped." "Highwoman, she was in the Salem Witch Trials and hung." "Highwoman, she was a freedom rider in the South." It was nice seeing Yola in there! What a delight. I was like... okay. I don't really remember what Johnny Cash and Willie were talking about in the other song, but maybe that's the analogous.

And then Track 2 redoubles into it. I think it's literally called "Redesigning Women." It's like, "Here's what the Highwoman is again." I thought that was good. It's a thesis-based project. Which, again, the project, I don't really care about, but from that detached perspective, I can still kind of enjoy. Then immediate go into Track 3, which is just a typical country radio song. "I'm not your loose change, I'm your lucky penny!" It still falls into the theme of "womanhood," but we're just bouncing around, having country fun.

Track 4, that one even sounds like a parody of country songs! For the next four or five tracks, that's mostly what I noted down—"this feels like a different kind of country song." Like, Amanda has a touch of the Reba, a little bit of the Reba flair. There's a couple big tracks, "Wild Child," "Old Soul." Big anthems. It ends on a big anthem too. Those were fun, although they were a bit long. But then you had more country standards. "Don't Call Me," which is a swinging, honky-tonkin', jug-tootin'-type song. A couple times I wrote down: "This is another jug-hooter." Which is... it's a country album, so you expect some jug-hooters, but in the relief of this opening of "We're the Highwomen, and that means something!" What does it mean? Now we're jug-hooters too, I guess.

I'm still enjoying it. I love the "1-800-GO-TO-HELL," I'm gonna use that. Then there's a sad song on death or whatever toward the end. I didn't care for it, but I understand it has to be in there. I really liked the one song that was like "Don't call me mama, I like wine and I'm hungover, and I can't deal with you right now." So if I went ahead and said, "What is a Highwoman?" I guess from the Highwaymen, from what I remember, it was all these men doing crazy stuff. One dude is building a dam and drowns, another guy gets crushed by a steamroller in Looney Toons or something. Whereas the Highwomen were like "I'm going to be my own lady, and go out and do stuff." Which is great! Maybe it's culturally on point.

So overall, good album. Not my genre, but good album. I appreciate the supergroup nature of it. Brandi and Amanda Shires in particular were very good.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Joe: I feel like for some of these albums, I go back and I wish Sunny had been part of it. Because I feel like that's the important question: what are they trying to do here? The people who did it that week dismissed it—myself included—and maybe my thought at the time was an album about power to women. Do they do this enough? Like you said, there are songs that are just fucking country songs, that don't speak to the power of women. So maybe viewing it that way is a sign of failure on their part. Whereas I was thinking today—and what I think you would've gotten to first, if you were there in November 2019—is that this is country album in the way that the Highwaymen did a country album, in that they are taking the tropes of country, and applying them to a certain gender. So the Highwaymen were explicitly masculine in the way they were doing it, because that's what country was at the time, whereas the Highwomen are presenting those same tropes, but from a different perspective. This isn't an album about women, but it's reimagining the country tropes as centered by women.

Sunny: There's that one track toward the end, I forget what the name of it was. "I love this woman, and she doesn't know I love her." And the first time I listened to it, I was like, are they just doing a cover of a male-perspective song, or is this a lesbian femme-love thing? And by the end of the song it's very clear it's the latter. And I think that reaffirms what you're saying, that it takes the tropes—this is a classic type of country song—and then bringing it to them, and playing on perfume vs. cologne, and all these other little things.

Joe: I don't know why I assumed that Brandi Carlile was the mastermind behind that song, as the lesbian of the group.

Sunny: That would be my assumption without looking into it.

Joe: I looked it up. Amanda Shires and her then husband Jason Isbell wrote that song, and Shires is the lead on that.

Sunny: Interesting.

Joe: This is something I looked up on Wikipedia on the car ride here—

Sunny: As all good research is done.

Joe: —and I think that that speaks toward the togetherness of the Highwomen. That they are expressing empathy toward the whole of the woman experience. Just because Amanda Shires is straight doesn't mean that she can't empathize with her bandmate Brandi Carlile. And in a winking way too.

Sunny: You're right, the song is a little tongue-in-cheek, which definitely plays into that. So all these Highwomen are speaking to this universal woman experience, flush with the country thing. If someone is to be over critical, you could call it tokenizing. The one criticism is, ya know, country is racist, the South is racist, and all these women are white. So on Track 1, they immediately try to combat that. 

Joe: "We need Yola!"

Sunny: "We gotta get Yola in there." Maren isn't in there! She doesn't have a verse about the first woman to discover radioactivity or something like that. It's just Brandi, Amanda, and Yola on there.

Joe: She's not singing about hitting number one on a Chainsmokers song.

Sunny: Exactly.

Joe: I guess it's interesting to think about Maren Morris has purposefully removed herself from the genre of country. Not that she is doing Chainsmokers songs again or anything. But she's definitely been very expressive about how country is dominated by Morgan Wallen types, and I don't want anything to do with that shit anymore. Which makes me sad, in a way, that maybe the mission of the Highwomen has failed. If the purpose of this was to present it from a different perspective, then you have bad faith actors like Morgan Wallen who are purposefully leaning in the other direction. A more traditional direction... not saying that Willie Nelson or Johnny Cash were racist at all, they seemed to be pretty liberal. I guess just the idea that masculinity, like if you value that, then that seems to be more of a conservative thing. So masculinity looks different in country music.

Sunny: And there's a performative nature to everything we're talking about, but these are all performers. So I think to your point, one could say that the Highwoman project, if that was the point, was a bit of a failure. Or they weren't able to fight against all the culture that... I mean, they are one band, with one album, versus the whole country that's gone in a certain direction.

Joe: That genre specifically, I guess. I know that the Brandi Carlile album we listened to came out well before The Highwomen, but that didn't seem very country to me.

Sunny: Yeah, a lot of pop sensibilities, a lot of rock sensibilities.

Joe: Amanda Shires isn't really... she's more Americana, which is rooted in country but removed from the traditional outlaw country. Less familiar with Natalie Hemby. She was more of a country writer. She has since released an album of her own, since this. So I don't know, I can't really speak to her experience. I feel like maybe, instead of seeing this as four country artists that are coming together to reclaim the genre that they work in, it's more like four musicians who work slightly outside the genre, who admire people like the men in the Highwaymen, and are trying to reclaim it for them.

Sunny: And trying to take back a bit of this genre. To your point, they are not all in it all the time. Which is probably why they can produce a project like this. They have a little bit of outside perspective. Did they make any more music after this?

Joe: Together? No. I mean, they probably have worked together, in certain combinations. So, okay, I looked up Yola's most recent album, the 2021 album. What was that called? [Editor's note: Stand for Myself.] Rachel S. picked the Yola album before that for Record Club, Walk Through Fire. And then there was one that came out around the time we covered Walk Through Fire. Fuck, what was that called? I looked it up because, since then, Yola has also not really done any country stuff. Those two albums were produced by the Black Keys dude, Dan Auerbach. And she has since said, yeah that dude's a piece of shit, I'm never gonna work with him again. And I wanted to look up her two best songs, "Diamond Studded Shoes" and "Stand for Myself," and they are co-written by Auerbach. So I don't know. Where was I going with this?

Sunny: Artists outside of country... oh, do these people work together again?

Joe: Oh yeah. On that album, Natalie Hemby co-wrote a song as well.

Sunny: So they're still in contact.

Joe: Yeah, they're all pals.

Sunny: But the Highwomen project is not an ongoing thing.

Joe: Right, it is not. They did all they could. And I don't blame them for not wanting to put up with that shit. Like, if they're not within that genre firmly, and they released an album right now that was explicitly pro-feminist, people like us would be like, oh that's cool, let's listen. But that genre...

Sunny: Marketing it in the circles that it would be marketed in would be very difficult.

Joe: Fox News would have a field day. They'd have Morgan Wallen on the talk show to do his thing. They'd have Jelly Roll on there!

Sunny: It would be an easy target, sure.

Joe: Yeah man, I think I agree that it's not the best album ever. But that's more genre, not purpose behind it.

Sunny: And not talent. Clearly these people are making good music, and displaying it.

Joe: Is that something that comes in time? I know we were talking about how long you've been doing this, how long we've been doing this. I got the sense that, back then, listening to The Highwomen, I did not have the capacity to understand that you can appreciate art, or knowing the purpose behind the art, without liking the art itself. I don't know if that's my way of coping with having to do a review every week for the rest of my life, and the boredom that would come from saying "this is a shitty album, fuck this, I'm never listening to it again," like not considering the depth of it. Or, if it's actually true. Do you get that sense? In book club, film club, whatever, that you're at the point where you can appreciate art even if you don't like it?

Sunny: Yeah. Listen, I don't know anything. [laughter] But I would say two things. One, the repeated process—and Record Club for me was probably the biggest jump, and you've posted about this too—I've certainly previously been an "anything but rap and country" person, and now I kind of like rap and country, in the right context. So that in itself is a marker of change. I think doing art appreciation, art criticism, and just enjoying art, is a muscle like anything else. In the same way you'd go to visual art school and seeing a bunch of paintings you might not like, being exposed to them still helps you develop taste, helps you understand them, helps you understand the history around it, and all of that helps you appreciate all the stuff you do like even more. And so, yeah, I'm big on saying that doing this for however many years has helped sharpen that tool. And it's also revealed the Dunning-Kruger Effect of it all: the more I know, the more I realize I don't know anything. There's even more depth to music and art than I could ever wrap my head around. I try to be humble about that too. But yeah, that's a big reason I keep doing Record Club. It exercises muscles of art appreciation, being able to extemporaneously write, and also being able to take 40 minutes and listen to music intently. Which is a harder thing than you'd give credit for!

Joe: Apparently! Based on the fact that very few people do this. Especially week in and week out.

Sunny: I mean, I know very few people who sit down, put on a record, even one side of a record or album, and just listen to it. Maybe doodle around with it, or write with it, but just listen to it. Not do their chores or their laundry while they're listening, not thinking about work while they're doing it, not being on the computer while they're doing it, or on their phone. Just listen to the music. That speaks to more our greater culture, but I think this project does ask for it. I don't do it every week, and there are definitely some weeks I just listen to it on the way to work. But the weeks that I do, it's nice.

Joe: Do you feel like you like the album more when you have those moments for concentration on the music? Is that just a given?

Sunny: I think it's hard not to. In the same, if it's a piece of music, one that I don't like in the same way, it's not as sweet or enjoyable, I might like it or appreciate it more, having given it that time and attention, and find at least something... even on the worst album, there's usually at least one track or one chorus or verse where I'm like "that's kinda catchy and fun, they're doing something."

Joe: I wonder if you—and I know we've talked about a similar theory with the Reba thing, but more specifically to liking something, as opposed to the more philosophical stuff—does that argument become "I don't like this because I did not devote enough time to it"? Could any album improve, could any album get to the point where you like it for what it is, not what it tries to do, if given enough time and space? And should the assumption be that if somebody who doesn't do Record Club every week, and decides to pop in, and says "You know what, this Highwomen album kinda sucks!" Can we assume that that is because they didn't listen to it forty times over six years?

Sunny: I can almost definitely assume that they haven't. [laughter] I think so, though. I think there's something to that. So the question is, what does it mean of the quality of music that it's able to hook somebody, maybe a lot of people, in that first time? I guess that's Taylor Swift. She's able to, for millions of people on the first listen, people will be like, I like this. Whereas there's a lot of other music, like Buckethead for example. There's a lot of depth in there, but a lot of people here would be like "I'm not going to bother with any more of this, and don't bring it up to me again."

Joe: [laughter] Amazing example. Nah, it just feels like there's a responsibility, if like... I don't want Record Club to be a conduit to irresponsibility, that this would just be a place to talk shit on something you don't know about. Which is fine, ya know, it happens. And sometimes there are albums that I listen to 20 times and I still fucking hate them.

Sunny: Sometimes I totally understand where they're coming from, and I hate that they came from that place.

Joe: It's just the limiting nature of Record Club, it just feels like too much of a constraint sometimes. You have five days to do it. And then something like the Highwomen comes along that... I didn't like. At the time. I literally said in my review, this is a bad album. But I... I don't do this anymore, but at the time, Martha was being born, and I wrote it in advance, because I knew I wasn't going to be dealing with this stuff in the hospital. I have since had another child, and dealt with it in the hospital, because that's what I do now. But I certainly did not give this the time that it deserved. And now, I've been listening to it again, a couple times this morning, all these years later, and it just feels something was missing. Which isn't fair to these artists, and it isn't fair to my experience, our experience...

Sunny: Yeah, but like you said, one of your daughters was being born that week, you know what I mean? Everything you said is true, and also it's in contrast with having some value in a project that is time-constrained and runs every week. And that creates a different experience. I guess you can't have both. Or you can't have both at the same time. You do summer projects that run a bit longer to have that space. For Record Club, which one is better? Or which one would you get more engagement? Or more interesting writing from? That I'm not sure.

Joe: I don't know why I'm hung up on it for this particular one. Maybe because we covered a couple of the Highwomen's, and a couple of the Highwaymen's, albums since then, and I treated them with more respect, as a piece of art. And I don't like the idea of someone going back and reading my November 2019 review of The Highwomen, and being like, oh no, you didn't do this right.

Sunny: Sure, but that's why they can look at your November 2024 reappraisal. [laughter]

Joe: There you go. I took that as a syllable thing, by the way. Highwomen vs. Highwaymen.

Sunny: These are musicians first, not literary majors.

Joe: Is "highway woman," could that be misconstrued as a prostitute or something?

Sunny: It could be, I guess. But maybe that would be an appropriate person to sing a song about. And redeem.

Joe: What are you giving this album?

Sunny: I'd probably give it a 3 out of 5. I like two or three tracks a lot, I appreciate what they're doing, but there are at least four or five tracks that I thought were just stupid. Or, if it is a parody, then I get it! I don't have to keep watching it!

In My Place 204

July 23, 2026. 40.07607, -75.0835. See the updated map here. See all the blog posts here.


You should know
(philly septa ad sign)
that I ate the lettuce
not on a cheesesteak
(of course, i'm from philly, i would never)
but on a taco bell chalupa
after they announced where the lettuce was from
the bad lettuce
and i ate it and i knew
but i ate it anyway
and i'm fine
and i'm lucky
and i still need an excuse not to eat so much taco bell
do you have one

Thursday, July 23, 2026

Never Seen It #324: Juice

You know what? When you said that last time, I was kinda trippin', right? But now—you're right. I am crazy. But, you know what else? I don't give a fuck. I don't give a fuck about blogs. I don't give a fuck about Puke on Your Birthday. I don't give a fuck about watching 500 movies I've never seen before, either. I don't give a fuck about myself. Look, I ain't shit. I ain't never gonna be shit. And you less of a man than me, so as soon as I decide that you ain't gonna be shit—pow. So be it. You remember that, motherfucker. 'Cause I'm the one you all need to be worried about. Partner.


Juice
1992
Ernest R. Dickerson

Zoom: July 22, 2026, 9 PM to 10 PM

Participants: Joe, Sam, Sean E., Stef

A question posed toward the middle of the Juice discussion: is it better to watch a movie that reflects your own experience in life and the space you exist in, or is it better to watch a movie that is all new to you, depicting an experience you had no familiarity with prior to watching? Because I think it's important to consider the fact that four privileged (relatively!) white people were chatting about a film about a time and place that had very few intersections with our own experiences. It's interesting to watch a movie in which you can see yourself, but it's equally interesting to watch a movie and find a side of humanity that you weren't privy to before that.

Some more thoughts about Juice:
  • Was Bishop's character real to life or larger than life? Was this typical experience or was this a horror villain come to life?
  • Bishop was like SmĂ©agol with the ring when he got ahold of the gun.
  • Social work question: why does this sort of thing happen? It's a movie, so we can talk about Bishop being a villain, but in real life, we would never do that with a kid. We would ask the reasons that led him to make those choices. What cycles of poverty and abuse and violence did he get caught up in?
  • Clues: Bishop saying "I hate myself!" and it being implied that Bishop's father is in prison, being sexually abused.
  • Q is the most realistic character.
  • Ironic tragedy that Q "has the juice now."
  • Connection with White Heat! The characters watch it, and Bishop exalts James Cagney. Also: Cody Jarrett is "on top of the world," and Bishop falls to the bottom of the world in his death.
  • Does it say anything about a person's character if they watch gangster movies? Where is our responsibility as the audience to understand the intention behind these films? (I.e. we're back to the Wolf of Wall Street argument.)
  • Not good for the brain to be under constant stress of poverty and violence. It limits your world too. Robbing a store was an obtainable goal. Success in life is not.
  • What was everyone else thinking (besides Bishop, whose reaction was explicit) when they saw Blizzard dead on the TV?
  • Movies like Juice are undeniably beneficial to exist, as there are experience that, due to structural racism etc., have not been told as many times as other throughout film history, so it's important to make those stories known
  • Great acting! It felt like the kids had realistic emotions throughout, including Bishop, who put on an air of toughness but occasionally felt scared behind the mask.
  • This was three of the four kids' first film role, including Tupac and Omar Epps.
  • We wanted the kids to get out of the store robbery with everyone unharmed, and it hurt when the store owner was killed, which shows that it was an affective movie, that it got us to care about the characters so quickly.
  • Was Bishop good at DJing? Is this a skill that many people understand enough to judge either way? (This is all important in the history of rap as an art form, but none of us four are experts in that regard.)
  • Juice WRLD named himself after this film, and he OD'd at age 21. This to me says it's not enough to watch a film like this, not enough to soak in its lessons. Is there even a lesson? Could there be?
  • And what does it say about these cycles that kids get caught up in?
I loved the first half of this film, and I thought the second half was necessary to have, even though it pressed a little on the bounds of believability. Overall, good film that achieved what it wanted to achieve, and told exactly the story it needed to tell. I'd give it a 3.5 pukes out of 5 on those merits, but would recommend it to anyone looking for something that gives a sincere and honest sense of drama, without really ever slipping into melodrama.

How about you? What do you say about this one? If you missed the Zoom, or were there and have more to say, meet us in the comments!

(NEXT TIME: Waiting to kiss in the rain while watching The Notebook.)

In My Place 203

July 22, 2026. 40.0513, -75.05867. See the updated map here. See all the blog posts here.


Through the circle of Target into the dark place of the brain in which we.......

Hey, the Pizza Hut Express is like never open anymore. What gives? I only ask because I'm curious, not because I would get the pizza or breadsticks. I would have, back in the day, but I can't anymore. I had two experiences at Pizza Hut in the past ten years or so that completely turned me off from ever eating there again. One of at (one of) the Port Richmond location(s) circa 2017, and the other was at the location in the Northeast on Castor, and both of them resulted in the same exact violent explosion from both ends of my body. Never again. I was just curious whether Pizza Hut Expresses were shuttering because other people had the same bodily reaction to the deep dish pizzas, or if I'm just never at a Target during peak eating hours. Not that it matters either way.

Wednesday, July 22, 2026

A Year of Blind Spots: Slipknot

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.


1001 Albums You Must Hear Before You Die:

Slipknot came out of nowhere (well, Des Moines, Iowa) in 1999 to unleash this concussive album of the world's metal fans. It features a vocalist who can rap, sing, scream, or growl, alongside the brutality of a thrash-metal band with extra percussion, plus the versatility of a DJ and a sampler. The music—a dense mixture of sledgehammer drums (a kit plus two sets of percussion), avalanches of guitar, turntable noise—may have been too hardcore for a mainstream audience, and the band was overlooked by the masses, save for their imposing physical presence: Slipknot were nine psychopaths in jumpsuits (numbered, to distinguish them) and horror masks, who brutally assaulted their chosen sonic weaponry, and often each other, in a cacophony of measured mayhem.

Unsurprisingly, Slipknot took off like a rocket (platinum in the United States, gold in the UK). After a brief opening sample (an elderly woman opining "The whole thing... I think it's sick"), "(sic)" violently sets the tone for the album. "Eyeless" mixes a drum 'n' bass loop with merciless guitar riffage; "Surfacing" alternates piercing feedback with scratching; "Spit It Out" is speed metal meets rap. It was the softer sections of the single "Wait and Bleed" that first grabbed at an audience beyond regular metal fans, though. And the music's close association with extreme sports such as freestyle motorcross and skateboarding also gave the group an immediate avenue into a wealth of fans both young and old.

Joe:

Five years is a long enough time. I am seeing that now. I didn't do this on purpose, revisit another Slipknot album almost exactly five years after crassly laying out my opinion about this music in Record Club during that strenuous COVID-haze summer of '21. This album found me. I was paging through 1001 Albums, as one is wont to do, and saw Slipknot, and said something along the lines of: "Huh." Saying that I like this self-titled debut from these fucking freaks would be fucking boring. I'm a boring person, and predictable.

Isn't it fascinating, though? It always seems to be moving in the same direction. I move from not liking to liking. The appreciation grows, either from uncaring to caring deeply, or hating unconditionally to recognizing distantly. Always in the direction of optimism, at the very least. How often do I spend this much time contemplating something and find that I like it less than I did before? Rarely. That's just not how it works. I'm glad the unfair Slipknot review set a baseline extremely low, and gave this band and this sound plenty of room to grow. I liked listening to Slipknot this week.

The only thing that's changed is this normal, boring growth. I didn't realize anything about Slipknot that I didn't know before today. The quality of the music is static. I basically don't disagree with any observations I made in that review from a half-decade ago, beside the grade halfway down the page. I am challenged by this sound, I find solace in what it means to people, I could always and have always engaged with it through the lens of artistry and not anything else. That's still all true. The only thing that's changed is me. That makes all the difference, but of course, again, it also makes things boring. I'm boring in ways that Slipknot never manages to be on this album.

I feel like I have some more to say about "what it means to like Slipknot," but perhaps those thoughts don't have a place here, or it's not the time, and are too familial or political or something. I focus instead on the sounds, the quality of the music that this column is ostensibly built to address. I think about the high-pitched squealing hook that keeps returning to "Surfacing," as just one example of many. How it creates an unease that is finally released when the vocals crash in with "Fuck everything! Fuck this world!" and so on. Slipknot manages to break through the silly and into the profound. Occasionally.

I was explaining the "new music literally hurts the brain" theory to a friend the other night, and I think that this theory is the thing that might adequately explain why I had such an adverse reaction to Slipknot five years ago (other competing theories: living in a vacation home with family members strains my relationships with them temporarily; I am an alcoholic). I was not in tune with what Slipknot was/is doing, and it hurt my brain, and I lashed out. But through pain comes strength, and here I am, not appalled but instead utterly fascinated with the debut album of a band that seems custom build to appall. I'm good now. That's just how it always goes.

In My Place 202

July 21, 2026. 40.07932, -75.08413. See the updated map here. See all the blog posts here.


Godspeed to the rolly polly on his journey from this life to the next. Taken into custody in Rockledge, traveling by motorized vehicle across county lines, and gently placed in the grasses of Northeast Philadelphia by the kid with the biggest heart. Where is he now? We all wonder, as we lay our heads on pillow and begin to dream. I dream of a better life for him, and I hope he found it.

Tuesday, July 21, 2026

Shelter from the Storm: Oral History of One Single Night of Our Youth

Joe is rewriting all his old Xanga posts from 2005 onward, and this rewritten teenage angst is our punishment for the blog falling into a pit of despair.

October 29, 2005, 11:58 PM

There are some nights in a young man's life that render within him the inability to properly express the majesty and wonder of what happened, what it means, what life is, and why it feels so integral to live it the way he lived it on that night. I have lived such a night, and I will always remember it. I don't even need a Xanga post to remember it, but I'm going to type about it anyway, for posterity. In examining the events of the night, I actively feel my words failing me, but I am going to work through it. If it feels like I'm just listing things that happened, well that's because I am. I haven't let the events soak through yet, and I haven't yet given myself the space to consider the WHY and WHAT IT ALL MEANS. That will come in time. For now, a list of descriptions.

We were at Burholme Park.

We hung out at the fire pit, that place of worship in our sacred woods. There was no fire.

Mary introduced her boyfriend... excuse me, "Boo," Kyle, which, yes, the sobriquet of "Boo" did sufficiently add enough irony to the otherwise sincere and sappy idea of having a significant other in high school. He was cool.

Remember these coordinates, keep them safe, remember them always: #49; D.

Spotting a bunch of my former grade school comrades doing their own ritual walking-around-the-neighborhood thing, exchanging hellos, crossing paths in the night at the local Chinese food eatery.

Oh god, the Razor scooters!

Bailing on the Razor scooters, injuries, oh god!

Elizabeth was there, in front of me, as she often is.

Our once and future pal ANDREW FUCKING R*****!!!

Can you have a reunion if you are still actively involved in that thing? Because if so, my bandmates and I meeting in the middle of the street in the middle of the night in the middle of our youth was a reunion of reunions.

Gordon, who in many years from now will lose his job at Wawa, for reasons too unsavory to even predict at this time, looked me in the eyes and told me the truth, a truth that I will bury and forget about as soon as I can.

I did eventually walk home, by the way.

But the sensations remain with me. The spicy hot Hot Fries, Sir Andy Capp and crew.

The cops were a constant and persistent presence in my night, haunting our travails like a specter.

I have a brief memory of a strange man or boy farting in my or someone else's kitchen.

Another brief memory of visiting a gymnasium at a school I will never attend.

A flash of a vision of the man who aids in our crimes, not even noticing us even though we noticed him, he's sitting in a car, passenger seat, red light, cigarette in hand, slowly taking a puff and then the light turns green. What are you thinking about, Andy? Tell us.

Oh so many cameos throughout the night, I can't list them all, and if I did then eventually the list would become meaningless anyway.

But Chris Clark was there. You remember that dude?

I always got the sense that he was annoyed with me, not incessantly, but more in the way that you'd be annoyed that the shower is never clean and always has some gunk in the corner where porcelain meets wall, which is a normal thing to happen, just annoying.

Stealing his friend's eggroll did not help matters.

I was warned of the cops. I did not listen.

The cops and the eggroll incident are not related.

I return in my mind to the firepit, though I'm not there now. I'm comfortable in my room. Harry's asleep on a sleeping back on the floor. I'm staring into the blue screen of my desktop computer.

My brain is swimming, but I remember.

Okay, fuck it, let's try to make that list of people I saw tonight
  • Harry (obviously, he's here every weekend)
  • Mary
  • Boo/Kyle
  • Kyle's anonymous male friends
  • Keelan (v. cool)
  • Maryrose
  • Elizabeth (aforementioned)
  • Cathleen
  • AFR (Andrew Fucking R.)
  • The other Ed, not our Ed
  • LA FEVER [sic]
  • The guy with him, name unknown
  • Chris C. (aforementioned)
  • Other Kyle, still not our Kyle
  • Guitar Mike
  • Bass Kev
  • Hot Alexis
  • Guitar GF Brianna
  • Kyra [sic!]
  • Michelle
  • Amanda
  • The whole fucking LF crew
  • Tired Wawa employee (aforementioned by assumed name)
  • Passerby in ghost outfit (see: date)
  • Cops who chase (me; anyone)
  • Andy (rat; aforementioned)
  • Tina (Laf)
  • Remove the parenthetical: everyone from the Laf!
  • Including: Michael Myers [sic?]
  • Chris Cheesesteak (sobriquet, unknown origins)
  • Jenn (family)
  • Jenn's two friends
  • My parents (beginning of night, end of night, definitely not in between)
  • The spirits that watch over the firepit
  • Stringy-haired man at Wawa [no order to this list]
  • Weird Guy
  • Guy in baby costume
  • Hot girls on the way to their costume party
  • Laf: British Lady
  • Laf: cup of lentil soup lady
  • The ghost in the reflection of the door of the Chinese food eatery
  • THE MAN ON THE MOON [apocryphal]
I hope I didn't miss anyone.


COMMENTS

xOkEeLy07oX: wow, i cant believe i wasnt one of the coolest things tonight,  and i was with u the whole time, i hate you
❤ Keelan

Anonymous: I went to my friend's birthday party last night and I got pretty tipsy though, but I didn't drink that much anyway. Early this morning I went out to the gas station and I saw a guy looked like Bob Dylan. I thought it was the real Bob Dylan, but it must be somebody else look a like Bob Dylan. are you going to trick or treat this year? I probably not since I'm too old for going trick or treat. lol I haven't go out trick or treat in a last couple years with my neice Talia, she's just turns 7 years old a few weeks ago, she's really special to me and I love her very much.
I love you,
Justin "The Entertainment" Clark

Anonymous: check it out my new background on my xanga. it's looked really hot sex indeed. Did you had a good halloween yesterday? Bunch of kids ring the door bell at my house and give them candy. I didn't go trick or treat with my niece because my sister take her to trick or treat instead. 3 more days till my 4th year on xanga, I can't believe that I still using xanga since my aim is not working on my friend's computer. I can't wait to get a new computer as soon as possible.
I love you,
Justin "The Only One" Barrett

In My Place 201

July 20, 2026. 40.05793, -75.09279. See the updated map here. See all the blog posts here.


Isn't it fascinating how out impulse, our gut reaction, our snap judgment, always seems to be some variation of "But I'm right"? There are sometimes when you're wrong, ya know. You're not right all the time. You can't be. If you think you are, your tendency to be right the majority of the time did irrevocable fucking damage to your psyche as a child. Maybe that's where I am right now, that mindset, as my physical being is located somewhere along the ol' railroad tracks of my daily route, when I receive a work call and I take the work call because I'm a supervisor trying to support my workers and I'm giving guidance and I hear "sir this is a quiet ride car!" and my very first impulse is: "But I'm right."

I wasn't. I hung up, and I thought about it, and of course, of course, of course I'm wrong. It was the quiet ride car. Doesn't matter if the call was an emergency. If I'm in a position where I think that there's a possibility that I'm going to receive a call that I need to take, then I shouldn't be sitting in the quiet ride car. It was rude, and I felt shame over it, and there was no amount of postering that I could've pulled to make me even remotely close to being right. My mind examined it from every angle, so strongly was my desire to find a way to be right. This happened in the span of three seconds. Then I settled on being wrong, and I rode out the rest of my quiet ride car ride quietly.

Monday, July 20, 2026

Never Seen It #323: In the Mood for Love

He remembers those vanished years. As though looking through a dusty window blog, the 500 movies he's never seen before are something he could see, but not touch. And everything he sees is blurred and indistinct.


In the Mood for Love
2000
Wong Kar-wai

Welcome back to another in our Film Club mini-series, "Already Seen It," in which a member of Film Club chooses a movie from the least they've already seen, and makes me watch it. Catherine has already seen In the Mood for Love, and she sent me this prompt after I let her know that I watched it too.

"With the title and the idea of 'mood lighting' and color psychology, I'm curious if you felt color played a more significant role in the film than usual."

See, this is the kind of shit that I need from my more film-inclined friends in FC. I need prompts that involve ideas that I would have never been able to think about on my own. Catherine apologized that it was a "leading question," and I know what she meant, but I'll confirm it in another way: it was leading in the way that it literally leads me to think about shit that is all new to me, way outside my normal film-watching routine. I can confirm with y'all that I was watching In the Mood for Love and not once during its 98-minute runtime think about the color palette.

But that's the point of this exercise, to explore new ideas, so let's explore it. The first thing I found was that the color was updated from the 2012 version to the 2021 version (both via Criterion). I think I watched the more recent one, with the yellow tinge. I appreciated that someone in those reddit comments said that the yellow one is more accurate to the director's intentions, and I especially appreciated the comment about how the newer one reminds the audience of an old photograph that you'd find in a grandparent's shoebox from way back when. The whole movie is of a specific moment in time, and does feel like we, the audience of the 21st century, are looking back at something from long ago, peering in on a decades-old secret or private moment.

I also read through a few articles. This New Yorker one was particularly nice (you can click the link, but I can't imagine that it works very well on mobile, there was a lot of cool movement on that website when access on the desktop). It spoke mainly to the general aesthetic of the film, both the color and also the style and manner and setting. In the Mood for Love is highly influential in this way, and that article gives a lot of side-by-side comparisons to films that were explicitly influenced by this one.

I don't know if either of these sources speak directly to the "color psychology" that Catherine mentions. I'll be completely honest with you, I am hesitant to adhere to this particular thought process, that certain colors symbolize certain feelings or ideas. I know it's a real thing, and I know that it makes a difference sometimes, I'm just weary of it. I'm talking about something like this, where we the audience can say that there are lots of uses of the color red in the film, and that this red traditionally symbolizes love. I don't believe that's untrue, but I just wonder if that was actually the intention of the filmmaker, or if it's something that we as the audience assign to it.

Like, of course red "symbolizes" love and romance. We see the color everywhere on St. Valentine's Day, for example. But it's a question of chicken-and-egg: do we use red because we feel love and feel compelled to choose red to match that emotion, or are we told that red symbolizes love, and thus are compelled to feel an emotion like love whenever we see red? I think it's relevant to a discussion about In the Mood for Love because 1) red really is present throughout the film (even without thinking about color psychology, I noticed the startling red curtains in the hotel), and 2) the director may have had intentions on invoking certain feelings by choosing certain colors to match with those feelings. Red for love, yellow for nostalgia, green for newness, that kind of thing.

And I of course back wholeheartedly the idea that a director is creating a world that we get to live in for an hour and a half, and that the director is going to be making purposeful decisions, from that macro to the micro, from dialogue to such minor details as what color the curtains should be. All of that makes the film feel that much richer and more important and easier to think about in contexts such as film club discussions and blog posts. I was pulled almost immediately into the world of In the Mood for Love. Just because I wasn't conscious to the decisions like color palette doesn't mean I wasn't subconsciously affected by what those colors were and how they (again, subconsciously) affected how I felt about it in that moment.

If you had asked me what about this film pulled me in so thoroughly before I was asked about color psychology, I would have said that I am fascinated with the ways in which human beings connect and form bonds and examine those bonds in real time and constantly reevaluate what we mean to other people and what other people mean to us. I loved how understated the plot was, how it took me probably a little longer than intended to figure out that these two main characters were connected because their respective spouses were having an affair together. It was an effective film because it didn't feel the need to make it overdramatic. Finding a small spark of connection within the sadness of such a situation was truer to life than any melodrama we would have felt if we had, for example, even seen either spouses face at any point!

(A thought I had about the color stuff in relation to the intriguingly understated plot—I wonder if, like the New Yorker article states, this is one of those movies that requires rewatching. I mean, I know people say that about every movie that's even slightly more complicated than, like, Happy Gilmore, and it's been said throughout this Film Club plenty of times. But my specific thought this time was around wondering who might read such a New Yorker article filled with spoilers about this film. Do people read such articles before watching the film. And, if I were the type of person who could read such spoilers, and then watch the film for the first time, might that first time not allow me more space to think about things such as color palettes? If I'm not trying to keep up with the plot, since I already know it? I'm not going to change my ways because of this thought, but it's a thought were putting out there anyway.)

To me, this felt like a beautiful inverse of one of my favorite movies ever: Brief Encounter. There's the overarching similarity of two people crossing paths and knowing full well in that moment that the paths are not converging but simply crossing. But the difference is the circumstances that bring them together, and the ways that they are kept apart, and how they choose to address that inevitability. I love how both movies have the fucking balls to examine (not "to question," I think that would be overstating it) the idea of monogamy. How there's love in finding your forever person, and then there is a different kind of love in the margins and in the cracks in between, a love that is similarly powerful but a completely separate tone and taste.

All that could be chalked up to "seeing what I want to see," of course. Just like the color palette. But I do want to see it, that's the thing. I really do appreciate the idea that a film is using the sense of sight to its full advantage to move the audience with the emotions it intends to. Color, I can see now, would be an important function of that. Mood lighting too, even though I haven't touched on that yet. I saw the lighting as more indicative of the space that the character inhabit, the crowded apartments versus the quiet moments with just Chan and Chow, the mood lighting reflecting the gentle moments of connection. As with the color, it's not that hard to imagine the director purposefully choose lighting to directly inform what emotions the audience is feeling.

Do I think that these pieces of the film played a significant role? That's hard for me to say, but only due to my own deficiencies when it comes to understanding the art of film, and my lack of confidence. Thinking about it now, though, I can see how such factors lay the framework for an effecting movie about love and one ultra-specific way in which love could find us, wallop us, make us feel pain in its absence. I don't know if color is significant in its role, but everything, color included, certainly added up to me feeling something powerful about In the Mood for Love. Watching this movie felt like unplugging the hole in the wall and listening to the secrets shared within.

GRADE: 4 pukes out of 5

NEXT TIME: We have our Juice discussion on Zoom on 7/22/26 at 9 PM! Followed by a discussion blog post the next day!

In My Place 200

July 19, 2026. 40.08594, -75.2122. See the updated map here. See all the blog posts here.


This is why this minor blog project will ultimately be seen as a failure. If you can't get something right after 200 days in a row of doing it, then there's really not much hope. The main purpose is to document where I've been. If I have an amazing day with family and friends at a swim club, then that's where the photo should be taken. Not the ride home, when you realize that you forgot about the photo, and you quickly snap a pic anywhere, on the side of the road, so that you don't have to default to another picture of the outside your house. The words I'm typing right now make up for it slightly, but that defeats the purpose. This isn't a words project, it's an image project, and the image of a traffic light does not do my day or my weekend justice. And there's only so many times I can feel bad about that before understanding that I'm not doing what I set out to do with this thing.

tldr: life good, blog bad

Sunday, July 19, 2026

Album of the Week: Being So Normal

So sometime in the next two weeks, Puke on Your Birthday is going to publish its 10,000th blog post. I don't have anything big planned. I am, however, considering it a Y2K-style event, in that I am afraid that Blogger is not going to be able to handle the extra digit, and the whole website is going to explode. I'm trying to back it up in as many ways as I can until then. If not... it was nice knowing ya, see you over on Wordpress I guess.

Record Club:

WEEK 390 — July 19-25, 2026


Being So Normal
by Peach Pit

LISTEN:

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PICKED BY VOTE

CATEGORY OF VOTING: "Gloria's Wall, Pt. II" — This is a sequel to last year's category, "Albums on Gloria's Wall." Sigur RĂłs won that one, and Gloria was perturbed at the negative reviews that resulted from that one. Mainly because she's not choosing the vinyl albums that adorn her wall based on musical quality! Only on how cool the cover art looks! The issue this year, with a fresh slate of eight albums on that living room wall the last time I checked, was that four of those albums were ineligible (mostly through the no repeat artists rule). So I asked Gloria to choose a fifth album for the poll. And wouldn't you know it, that album won. The good thing is that Peach Pit was chosen by Gloria for inclusion purposefully, and not via Gloria's Wall. Feels like Gloria would want it that way.

LOSING ALBUMS: Different Rooms by Jeremiah Chiu and Marta Sofia Honer; Gongjuung Doduk by Mid-Air Thief; How You Been by SML; Paris by Nils Frahm.

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ALBUM DETAILS

GENRE: Indie pop, indie rock, indie surf, bedroom pop, indie surf, jangle pop, slacker rock

RELEASED: September 15, 2017

LENGTH: 37:21

TRACKLIST:
  1. Drop the Guillotine
  2. Being So Normal
  3. Techno Show
  4. Alrighty Aphrodite
  5. Chagu's Sideturn
  6. Not Me
  7. Hot Knifer
  8. Private Presley
  9. Tommy's Party
LYRICS: Genius.com

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ARTIST DETAILS

PRONOUNS: I couldn't find any specific info on the band members' individual preferences

ABOUT: Peach Pit formed in Vancouver, British Columbia in 2016. Frontman Neil Smith plays rhythm guitar as well, while Christopher Vanderkooy is on lead guitar, Peter Wilton is on bass, and Mikey Pascuzzi is on drums. The members apparently formed the band for a high school project originally, but didn't make it official until they released an EP in 2016. Their 2017 debut was successful enough that everybody quit their day jobs (Amazon drivers, carpentry, brewer at a local brewery). They've been nominated for three Juno Awards, and have opened for a host of famous bands and artists. They describe their sound as "chewed bubblegum pop."

DISCOGRAPHY: Being So Normal is their first of four albums. Most recently, they released Magpie in 2024.

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ADDITIONAL INFO

READING SOME SHIT: this interview in Static doesn't have a date, but I'm assuming 2024

WATCHING SOME SHIT: "Alrighty Aphrodite" live on Audiotree

RECORD CLUB CONNECTIONS: An incomplete history of Record Club in fruit: Fiona Apple, Watermelon Man!, "Toast and Bananas" by blink-182, "Orange Juice" and "Strawberry Wine" by Noah Kahan, "Watermelon Sugar" by Harry Styles.

Already mentioned was Peach Pit's nomination for Group of the Year at this year's Juno Awards. The Beaches beat them in that category.

MENTIONS ON THE BLOG: It should come as no surprise that Gloria has chosen a couple Peach Pit songs for Monday Morning Mixtape (027 and 057). Though both songs are from Magpie, not Being So Normal, so we're starting fresh here.

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RECORD CLUB ALUMNI ASSOCIATION

This week's discography dive album: Gal by Gal Costa

This week's follow-up album: Workin' Man: Willie Sings Merle by Willie Nelson

This week's keeping up album (probably): Foreign Tongues by the Rolling Stones

Listen with us! Keep your favorite Record Club artists in the rotation!

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COUNTDOWN:
69 Weeks Until Week 420


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. 

THIS WEEK: We are 30 weeks away from Week 420.

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Happy listening, RC family!
Have a great week!