Sunday, June 30, 2019

Album of the Week: How Sad, How Lovely

Any time someone new picks the album of the week, I am happy. Thanks to our old friend Drew P***** for picking this week's album, and for giving us a break from bands with white dudes singing rock songs.

Also new this week: I added a list of PoYB contributors to the sidebar underneath the Blog Archive, so you can now sort reviews and other bullshit by author (the "Not Joe" tag was getting a little unwieldy). If you just want a list of every Record Club album and review, you can still click HERE.

WEEK 22 — June 30-July 6, 2019

What we're listening to this week (Drew P.'s pick):


ALBUM: How Sad, How Lovely
ARTIST: Connie Converse


RELEASED: March 5, 2009 (but recorded much earlier)

WHAT GENRE IS THIS: American folk? Sad Americana? O.G. singer-songwriter?

WHY DREW PICKED IT: "I first heard about Connie Converse and couldn't tell if I liked her story more or her music. She wrote her songs in the late 1940s and early 1950s. She got no recognition, so she recorded all her music in her apartment in NY in the late 1950s and then switched to composing piano music. She didn't have any success with that either. Then she packed all her shit up in her VW and disappeared in 1977. All that being said I really love this album and the small little stories it tells."

TRACKS:
  1. Talkin' like You (Two Tall Mountains)
  2. Johnny's Brother
  3. Roving Woman
  4. Down This Road
  5. The Clover Saloon
  6. John Brady
  7. We Lived Alone
  8. Playboy of the Western World
  9. Unknown (A Little Louder, Love)
  10. One by One
  11. Father Neptune
  12. Man in the Sky
  13. Empty Pocket Waltz
  14. Honeybee
  15. There Is a Vine
  16. How Sad, How Lovely
  17. Trouble
  18. I Have Considered the Lillies
READING SOME SHIT: The story of Connie Converse was summarized pretty well in this CoS piece, and personalized a little more in this New Yorker piece.

Happy listening, fam! Have a great week!

Saturday, June 29, 2019

Song of the Week: "Troubleman Unlimited"

Check out a Spotify playlist of every Song of the Week HERE. It was compiled with help from friends.



"Troubleman Unlimited"
Titus Andronicus
from An Obelisk
2019

Even paint-by-numbers Titus Andronicus is electrifying, as exemplified by their newest album, the taut, hard-hitting An Obelisk. All the hallmarks are there.

Except, is it just me, or is something slightly different this time? I'm talking about Patrick Stickles' voice. It's always been scraggly, as Stickles sings with reckless abandon on stage and no doubt smokes countless cigarettes off stage. But this is the first time that it's been noticeably worse.

When I say "worse," I mean that strictly in a medical sense. In the context of a Titus Andronicus banger, it works. Of course it works. But listening to a song like "Troubleman Unlimited," I'm worried for Patrick Stickles on a human-to-human level. I hear him strain to hit certain notes more than he used to, and I feel like I can see the future trajectory of his career, and I fear that we'll be reaching 2010s-Bob-Dylan-esque vocal performances within the next couple albums.

Listen to him growl his way around a line like, "You see, I used to be my father's son / Now I'm howling at the moon," and tell me you're not worried too.

Ah, well, maybe I should take a cue from Titus Andronicus in this matter. They are a band that is constantly telling us that there is No Future. So I'll stop worrying, and I'll plug in, and I'll jam out, just like always. +@ 4ever.

Friday, June 28, 2019

Lumos, Pam


If Rachel Bloom or Weird Al were commissioned to write an album of songs about Harry Potter. Minus the humor.

Lumos, Jenn


How could I pass up a week of listening to some Harry Potter-inspired music? The first couple songs were kinda eh but the once I got into and listened a few times I enjoyed most of the songs. If only the guy's voice was a little better! Lol... I esp like that songs that you could literally picture what you were reading in the books/watching in the movies. Two favs would be "Where’s Ron" and "The Stone."  A cool listen!

Lumos, Sam


I moved to New Jersey when I was six, in the summer between kindergarten and first grade. There were not a lot of kids in my neighborhood, and I struggled to make friends, more or less due to the sheer lack of options available (that's my story, anyway).

In first grade, I made a few friends, including a particular wiener named David. Our parents orchestrated a playdate, and I was up for anything. David was kind of an asshole, but I was desperate. So I tolerated watching him play Treasure MathStorm (he said his mom wouldn't let me play; a likely story, David).

Eventually, we journeyed to his bedroom, and I still can recall my jaw dropping at the obscene number of toys he possessed. Part of me was like, fuck you, David; the other part dug in. Here, David and I finally connected.

We constructed convoluted narratives involving Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, GI Joes, Power Rangers, whatever bullshit he had lying around. Tales of espionage, love, space operas. Our kiddo minds got pretty creative.

Just as we were nearing another riveting conclusion where Rock Steady was marrying Alpha 5, David's older sister shattered our fun. We were mid-ceremony with a Crash Test Dummy serving as the Justice of the Peace, when she came into the room, made eye contact with us, and said the meanest thing she could have possibly said:

"What are you doing? Ugh, you guys are such nerds. Nerds!"

Crushed, we stopped, returned downstairs, and settled into our more acceptable behavior (the not nerdy at all computer math game).

Harry and the Potters survive under similar parameters. In the safe space of a childhood bedroom, sure, whatever, you can make sorcerer-inspired music. But under the scrutiny of the world, you gotta call it like it is: this is nerd music for nerds.

And not like "Oh, people who wear glasses are cool now." No, this is shameful behavior. Don't listen to this album. Run away. Go play a computer game.

Lumos, Erin



Lumos, Joe


Look, you're gonna have to take at face value that this is an album based on a book that was ostensibly created for children. There's no way around it. If you don't like the Harry Potter book series, or you've never read Deathly Hallows, then you're going to have a tough time with this one. "Accio barriers of entry!"

You're also going to have to be in on the joke. Yes, there is an album that tells the story of a bespectacled teenager and his friends defeating a snake-faced demon wizard with the power of love. This is supposed to be ridiculous. Harry and the Potters know this. They knowingly created a band based on the hypothetical question "What if Harry Potter fronted a rock 'n' roll band and sang about his own life?" AND they are still (somehow) functioning in 2019, twelve years after the series ended. When you listen to Lumos, you are laughing with Harry and the Potters, not at them. You need to know this. "Accio sense of humor!"

I don't need to explain to you my own personal history with the Harry Potter books, because this is a music review. You can tally up all the ways I'm about to praise Lumos, and maybe make an safe guess based on that whether I like Harry Potter or not. "Accio my childhood!"

If I said Lumos was one of my favorite albums of the year so far, would you believe me? I'm not even sure that I believe me. I chose this album for Record Club because I thought it would be hilarious if it ended up being excellent, and now here we are. The joke is on me. I fucking unabashedly love Lumos. "Accio music critic respectability!"

When I listen to the music of Harry and the Potters, I think about Flight of the Conchords, in that they are, at face value, a satirical band, but the satire is backed up with actual, legitimate musical pastiches by a real-life talented band. They aren't creating new music (the genre tag "Wizard Rock" is yet another joke), but instead they are taking all these different existing styles of music, and creating a story through those established genres. No one is going to listen to "Hermione's Army" and think that they are reinventing the wheel. That's not the point. Harry and the Potters take a very specific subgenre—sleazy, skronky '80s after-hours rock—and play it faithfully to create their tribute to a great literary character. "Accio a fucking Weezer homage!"

When I listen to Lumos, I also think about Tommy, the godfather of rock operas. Both albums tell epic stories that, if you just listen to the album, don't really make a whole lot of sense when you think about it too hard (I'm not being far-reaching here—the comparison is made explicit when our protagonist looks in the mirror in "You're Not the Wizard"). The only difference being that Lumos, of course, has a source text from which you can fill in the blanks (whereas Tommy had a batshit movie that only raised more questions than answers). "Accio more outlandish comparisons to the rock canon!"

In fact, I'd even argue here that Lumos succeeds more so when they concentrate on highlighting the subtext than just repeating the text of Deathly Hallows. So while a song like "Where's Ron" is absolutely fantastic in its own right (it's a legit hold-those-lighters-up hair-metal rock ballad, and it's the best thing Moldy Peaches' Kimya Dawson has ever done in her entire career), it adds nothing to our understanding of the characters or the novel. Whereas, there are songs like "The Banality of Evil (Song for Albert Runcorn)," which examines the motivations of an extremely minor character, pondering how ordinary people contribute to fascism—something that Rowling kind of glossed over a little bit in the novels. It adds to our understanding of the nuances of the wizarding world, which is really fascinating. "Accio every trump supporter who completely ignores the central messages of this book series!"

Lumos does a terrific job of balancing humor and pathos, almost as well as the books themselves do. There are so many little moments scattered throughout this album that made me laugh out loud. The so-bad-it's-good ska pun, comparing underage wizarding law to living in a police state, the falsetto when describing the Godric's Hollow incident as Nagini giving Harry "a little squeeze." Seriously, the fucking coda on "Gone Campin'," listing every fish, absolutely kills me every time. Like, I wanna see Harry and the Potters live just so I can sing along about halibut and scrod. "Accio swordfish of Gryffindor!"

As far as the pathos goes, would it be a bridge too far to believe that I choke up every time I hear "The Stone"? The extended interlude harkens back to what was graffitied on the signpost near the ruins of Harry's former house—a multitude of strangers wishing Harry well on his quest. "Good luck Harry!" and "We're with you, Harry Potter!" are racing through Harry's mind as he walks toward sure death, in the narrative. But when the shouts turn to "Thank you, Harry!", I personally start to echo the sentiment. It switches from thanking Harry Potter the character to thanking Harry Potter the books. I'm so thankful for the magic of this book series. "The Stone" has wrecked me multiple times when I start thinking this way. I know that makes me lame. I know that seems preposterous. I know that I said I wouldn't talk about the books too much. I'm sorry, Harry. "Accio tissues!"

Like I said in the beginning, there's no way around the fact that this is an album based on and inspired by a book. Regardless of whether you agree with how great the music itself is (and I'll argue it's great), I can't imagine that anyone could possibly find anything to appreciate on Lumos if you know fuck all about Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. But on the flip side of the coin, if you are a Harry Potter fan, if you, say for instance, stayed up until 1 AM on the night Book 7 was released and then stayed up until 8 AM reading it in one sitting... well, then, Lumos might just be for you. "Accio fan service!"

I have no expectations of this fantastic album having any legs whatsoever. I've listened to it dozens of times in the past week, but there's no way that's going to last. Don't expect to see me singing its praises as a best of the decade or anything like that. Lumos is an album that will burn bright in my life and then eventually Nox itself out. I'm okay with that. I am enjoying it now, and I'm so glad that I had the opportunity to rediscover the joys of Harry Potter in a completely different medium. "Accio fish!"

GRADE: 4.5 pukes out of 5

Thursday, June 27, 2019

The Albums That Matter: Bark Your Head Off, Dog

Joe runs through every album on his iPod, mostly in alphabetical order, and offers some brief thoughts. Check out previous columns HERE.


Bark Your Head Off, Dog
Hop Along
2018

The first thing anyone says about Hop Along is that Frances Quinlan is a unique and wonderful vocalist. I'm certainly guilty of this (and I guess I'm technically guilty of it again, based on the first sentence in this paragraph). And if you are the type to put that fact up front, then you aren't wrong. Quinlan is awesome. I can't really think of any other singer that I like better. Seriously, they're that good.

But to focus too much on that would be a disservice to Hop Along as a whole. Bark Your Head Off, Dog showed me the error in my ways, how I unfairly forwent praise of the rhythm section in favor of heaping more accolades on the Voice of Philadelphia. Frances Quinlan makes Hop Along unique; the rest of the band makes Hop Along a straight-up great band, period.

Guitarist Joe Reinhart, bassist Tyler Long, and especially drummer (and Frances' brother) Mark Quinlan have an alchemy together, creating songs that simultaneously groove and make hairpin turns. The music has been described as "knotty" on PoYB and otherwise, and it's the best adjective for it. Maybe "busy" is another one. "Full?" Sure. They can switch it on and off between songs, like going from that almost-disco-y beat of "How Simple" to the stuttering, fretboard-picking "Somewhere a Judge." they can switch it up in the middle of songs too. Take "Not Abel," which features that twisty extended coda, or "The Fox in Motion," which all of a sudden becomes a double-time stomper. This is a band with so many strengths.

In fact, I'd almost reluctantly argue that Frances Quinlan's insane vocals NEED their backing band in order to be the one true Hop Along. As great as they are, they falter when they goes it alone. Just look to "How You Got Your Limp," which is mostly otherwise soft guitar and whistling. The titanic voice is there, but that's about it, and it's the weakest song on the album. Plus, have you ever heard the band's first album (Freshman Year), which is basically a Frances Quinlan solo project? I know Waxahatchee loves it, but it was never my cup of tea.

Okay, now maybe I'm shifting too far to the other end of the spectrum. I don't mean to disparage anyone. And let's not forget that Quinlan writes all the lyrics too, so it's not like they're a slouch. As always, the imagery is provocative, and while occasionally obtuse, it's almost always moving. There are dog deaths and WWI battles and plenty of overbearing men perpetuating the patriarchy. It's an added plus for a singer who could sing my grocery list and still make me happy.

The bottom line is that I have lots of praise for this album. So a good question now, here in June 2019, is: will this be considered one of the greatest albums of the decade? Or are we writing about it here in The Albums That Matter simply because it starts with a "B"?

I can certainly see convincing myself otherwise in the next few months, but I still feel in my heart of hearts that Painted Shut is a better album overall. The issue is that Bark songs are all 8s and 9s, while Painted Shut is all 10s and 8s and 7s. That I'm even considering Bark to be a worthy contender against my favorite album of 2015 means that Hop Along is here to stay. Great band, great album, may forever Frances Quinlan reign.

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

If this album sounds interesting, try this song: "What the Writer Meant"



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

Stray Observations
  • The video for "How Simple" is fucking great. I usually only recommend videos when it's an artist, whom I have a crush on just dancing around, so there's no surprises here I guess.
  • [Editor's note from 2021: Frances Quinlan came out as non-binary a couple years after I wrote this, around the same time I was going back to all these old posts and fixing formatting, and so on. I hope no one minds that I changed all the pronouns here, as well as in other posts, retroactively. I hope no one minds also that Quinlan's gender doesn't preclude me from having a crush on them still.]
  • "Prior Things" has a great string arrangement that went unmentioned above, and it goes to show that the tricks up Hop Along's sleeves are endless.
  • I've never seen Watership Down, which is apparently the movie referenced in "What the Writer Meant," so maybe I should watch it soon to get some more insight into that great fucking song. Isn't it anyone's favorite movie of all time?! Let me know!
  • Bark Your Head Off, Dog was recorded The Headroom, which is right up the street from Philadelphia Brewing Company, according to Google Maps. It's co-owned by Joe Reinhart, the guitarist...
  • ...who apparently was the former guitarist for Algernon Cadwallader? Whaaaaaaa? I'm just learning this now.
  • ALBUM COVER: Just gonna copy and paste the Bandcamp explanation, even though it kinda seems to me to cross the line from honest explanation to overwrought press release: "Throughout the album, one gets the sense that Quinlan is wandering in the thicket of a forest—a state of being that will feel familiar to longtime listeners—and on this outing, [they haven't] left a trail of breadcrumbs behind [them]. The album’s artwork, which Quinlan painted [themselves], invites the listener into that forest, as well. 'There is a terror in getting lost,' [they say], 'the woods are at the same time beautiful and horrifying.' This curious wandering gives the album, both lyrically and musically, a heightened dimensionality."
  • This doesn't really have anything to do with Bark Your Head Off, Dog, but I just noticed it today while reading along on Genius.com. They have a counter on the sidebar that says how many people are currently viewing those lyrics, and it always says "1 Viewing," and shit, man, that makes me a little lonely.

NEXT TIME: Famous Graves by Cheap Girls

Wednesday, June 26, 2019

Glass Pear, and Finding Happiness in Mediocrity

I kind of jumped the shark last Friday with my whole "I am bad at this" shtick. Real cringey stuff, folks. So I went back into the college archives and tried to figure out if I had always leaned on this particular crutch. It seems likely. Here's a review I wrote for the September 3, 2009 edition of the college newspaper:
Glass Pear: cliché is boring, not cute
by Joe K***

Collegian Editor
     I knew I was in trouble when the PR packet proclaimed: "Featured in Grey's Anatomy and 90210!"
     This is not a review of those TV programs. This is a look at Glass Pear and his debut album Streets of Love. However, to mention that his work has been featured on Grey's Anatomy should be a more helpful description than any other words I write.
     Imagine McDreamy walking in slow motion down the hallways of Seattle Grace Hospital, contemplating broken romances and the hardships of medical residency (yes, my teen sister helped me write this paragraph). If you have any sense of the soundtrack that would accompany such a scene, you already know Glass Pear.
     Glass Pear, the self-proclaimed "quirky moniker" of young musician Yestyn Griffiths, follows the path already well-beaten by fellow piano-based alternative rockers such as the Fray. You know the deal—it's sappy, it's all midtempo, every lyric is about a broken heart and everything must be a ballad.
     In other words, Glass Pear does nothing to differentiate himself from the thousands of other syrupy piano players that told us "how to save a life." It's a shame, too, because I gave this music every chance in the world to make me like it, but nothing ever stood out.
     Take the lead-off track, "Last Day of Your Life," for instance. Naturally, a little piano chord progression starts us off, while Mr. Pear proclaims, "Let me take you to my secret place / high about the earth / into outer space." The piano builds, the drums kick in, a guitar carries us to the chorus "If this was the last day of your life." Make sure to throw in a softly spoken bridge of "I love you / shine on."
     Now rinse and repeat for, oh, about nine more songs, and we have Streets of Love.
     It is sad, in my opinion, that Glass Pear indulges in such trite music, because I get the sense that he is a really talented guy. I mean, don't get me wrong, his voice is great. He could totally make it into the finals of next season's American Idol. Vocals, unfortunately, aren't everything.
     Hey, I'll even give credit where credit is due. The title track, "Streets of Love," is actually pretty catchy. With its quick tempo and surprisingly memorable guitar hook, it stands out as a solid song among many mediocre ones.
     Even a good song, though, leaves me with a feeling of frustration. If Glass Pear shows he can succeed when he quickens the pace and steps out from behind the piano, why can't he just do that more often?
     Of course, I'm not the one Glass Pear is trying to please. I don't like the Fray and I never will. However, I must admit that thousands of young folk do, in fact, like that music, and it is this group of listeners that Pear targets.
     I am willing to acknowledge that my musical tastes do not necessarily align with the majority of my peers. So though my reaction to Glass Pear was mostly negative and at times dreadful, you might just like him. Especially if you have a McSteamy poster above your bed.
How it worked back then was, if the Entertainment section was looking for content, and your fingers were itching to write a review, but you didn't have any CDs in mind, you could just randomly reach into the promotional material bin of castoff shit albums and review whatever you grabbed. That's how I ended up with Glass Pear. I was comics/games editor with a taste for blood.

Trashing an album that deserves to be trashed feels great in the moment, but after the dust settles and you start thinking about the artist themselves, you start to feel a little bad. Yestyn Griffiths did nothing to me personally to deserve a wanton review. His music was inoffensive and boring, that's all. I hoped against hope that in the decade since I wrote the review, he had kept churning out those harmless, innocuous tunes. In other words, I would never fucking listen to him on purpose ever again, but in a just world, he's pulling in a stupid amount of Chicago Fire/Med/P.D. money. So I investigated.

And unfortunately, I didn't find much. Glass Pear released the Streets of Love follow-up, his 2012 self-titled. Then there was a couple of singles in 2014. The first is called "Made of Gold."



It's not terrible. It's possible that the Fray was a poor comparison; this is straight up Guster. Apparently it's the theme song to a "popular" cycling podcast. The lyrics about "climbing a mountain" etc. would certainly seem to fit the bill.

The second single is "Under the Sky."



This isn't terrible either. It's corny as FUCK, sure, but I wouldn't call it boring, no matter how far the sleepy vocals try to drag it, kicking screaming, in that general direction. There's some strings and some guitar pop chords that at least keep it moving.

But after these two singles, I can't find anything at all on the internet. It's been half a decade, then, since Glass Pear released any new material, as far as I can tell. That his Twitter bio still name-drops Grey's Anatomy and 90210 just about breaks my fragile little heart.

I'm not bringing this up to say that some shit review in some shit college rag had any discernible impact on this dude's career in general. I'm just saying that it fucking sucks to try so hard to achieve your dreams, and then for it to go fucking nowhere for years.

Like, I'm picturing Glass Pear now working at his dad's accounting firm in London, sitting behind a desk, mindlessly filing paperwork, scribbling notes for new songs on the margins of a tax packet index page, and then slowly driving home through traffic to his one-bedroom flat, remembering that one fucking episode of Grey's Anatomy.

I'm not saying he was good enough to gain fame and attention for his craft. I don't think my 2009 review of Streets of Love was off-base at all. I just feel empathy for those who struggle with their own mediocrity.

My shitty album reviews are piling up on a blog that few people read, and yet, no matter how nauseatingly self-deprecating they may curdle into, it gives me some sense of happiness to read them. Even if they are just for me! Just a small little hobby that brings some insignificant sense of satisfaction to my life.

And though Glass Pear sucks ass worse that Puke on Your Birthday does, I hope Yestyn Griffiths has a hard drive full of new songs somewhere, never to be released, but songs that he can go back and listen to occasionally, in his spare time, and I hope that gives him that same insignificant happiness. We all deserve to find something we like to do, something that we can whittle away at as we await the inevitability of death. I hope Glass Pear is okay. Hang in there, buddy.

Tuesday, June 25, 2019

Your Favorite Movie: Big Fish, with Casey O.


Welcome back to "Your Favorite Movie," where we discover the joys of a movie through the eyes of a friend who considers that movie THE BEST.

This past Friday night, Pam and I sat down with our good friend Casey O'*****. Casey and I have been friends for almost three years now. She had palled around with Pam back in high school, but didn't enter my life until she returned to Philly from a nine-year Lake Tahoe sojourn. Casey is one of my favorite people, a like-minded soul in the matters of chill attitudes and blackout drunken antics.

In true Casey O. fashion, we sat on my backyard deck and had a few too many drinks while discussing her favorite movie, Big Fish. It's a tale about telling tall tales, and we in turn spun our own tale, shaggy dog style, and only slightly incomprehensibly (and, of course, it's lightly edited here for clarity). Like Big Fish, it is up to you, dear reader, to decide what is true, and what is fiction.

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

Joe: Alright, so something that I did not do with Pam, that I figured we could do this time, is kind of run through the plot a little bit? Just briefly.

Casey: Yeah, sure.

Joe: To give the readers [who] have never watched the movie, and don't care to watch the movie, a clue as to what we're talking about. So you can kinda start us off, and we'll jump in if we need to add in some details.

Casey: So basically, the plot is: an older man is at the end of his life, and his son, who wants to understand more about his father's life.

Joe: He hates his dad.

Casey: He hates his dad based on the fact that his dad was away for a long time growing up, because he was a salesman, he was on the road a lot, and the stories that he told his son, [the son] thought were fabricated. When he was younger, they were great stories, but when he became an adult, he started to realize that maybe these weren't stories that were real.

Joe: I guess the movie is basically these stories—

Pam: A retelling of these stories

Joe: He's telling the "Big Fish" story at the wedding

Casey: The last time they spoke was at the wedding, because the father, Edward Bloom's speech was based around how he caught the big fish with the gold ring. And that was the day that William was born. And William was kind of offended because, basically the story revolves around the father a lot. Which, I don't really understand why he was so offended? Three years is a long time not to speak to your father!

Joe: For plot reasons?

Pam: To build tension.

Casey: But we'll get back to why I really care about this story. So that's where it starts—they don't speak to each other for a while, and his father gets very ill, and then he comes back to figure out what stories were true and what stories were fabricated.

Joe: I think that's a good plot summation. Why do you think this adds up to your favorite movie of all time?

Casey: This adds up to my favorite movie of all time because—so I guess it was the time that I saw it.

Joe: Which was when?

Casey: Freshman in college, 2003.

Pam: Is that when it came out, 2003?

Joe: 2003.

Casey: So I went to the movies with Brittany G***** and Ashley McN****, two of my best friends from high school, and, it turns out, college.

Joe: At Penn State.

Casey: Yeah. We innocently saw a movie, Big Fish. We all liked Tim Burton, so we wanted to go see the movie, whatever. I had zero expectations. It really got me emotionally. I held in my emotions the whole entire movie. The movie finishes, I held in every emotion I had. We're at the bus stop for the loop to go back to our dorms—this is like a half hour after the movie ended—and I started bawling.

Pam and Joe: [laughter]

Casey: And they were like, "Casey, what the hell is a matter? Are you okay? Is it too cold out? What's the matter?" And I was like, "Oh my god, that movie, I was just holding it in, you guys," I really couldn't hold it in any longer. So what got me was, the whole storyline reminded me of my Pop Pop and my Grandmom. My Pop Pop passed away from cancer in his mid- to late-60s, which is early, if you think about our parents now.

Joe: When was that? What year?

Casey: 1997. It broke my Grandmom's heart, to the point where I felt like she didn't want to live anymore. She kept smoking cigarettes, and we kept telling her, ya know, this is terrible for your health. And she ended up passing away in 2000. So their whole connection—Edward Bloom and his wife—like really touched my heart. It reminded me of my grandparents. How it was true love. They had met each other when my grandparents met each other, when they were in their teens, and knew it was true love. My Pop Pop pursued my Grandmom, and they ended up together. And my Grandmom truly [did], I felt, die of a broken heart. So that whole situation reminded me of my grandparents, I think goes to factor why it is my favorite movie, how their relationship was very similar. There's some scenes throughout that movie too between the two of them which were really sweet—

Joe: So you saw the movie as a romance movie.

Casey: Hmm...

Joe: I know there's other aspects to it, but—

Casey: I wouldn't categorize it as a romance.

Joe: Okay, but the thing you took away from it, the thing that made you cry at Penn State... would you see yourself as a "Will"? Based on your relationship with your Grandpop? Or is that separate?

Casey: Yeah, not toward my grandparents, but... this was the first death in my life, my Pop Pop, and I took it very hard, I was probably twelve, eleven or twelve years old. And I just remember all my other little cousins who really didn't—weren't affected by it, but I was... I dunno, I don't even really feel I was that close to my Pop Pop, but that was the first death in my life, and I felt very impacted by it. And then the fact that I started, once my Pop Pop passed, talking to my Grandmom, and hearing how they met, at a school dance when they were in middle school, and fell in love. And then how she kinda died of loneliness, I felt, like, so Jessica Lange. [laughter]

Joe: Okay, so your Grandmom was the storyteller in that situation after your Grandpop died.

Casey: Yes.

Joe: Do you mind if I ask you what the story was? If you remember if it had any fantastical elements to it?

Casey: My grandparents?

Joe: Yeah, so after your grandpop died, and your grandmom was telling you about how they met, did it feel like a Big Fish-type story? Or—

Casey: It did kind of feel romantic, like, who meets their significant other at a middle school dance?

Joe: Honestly.

Casey: And then marrying that person, and still be in love with that person for the rest of your life until they die, and that's all they care about.

Joe: Kind of like that feel that you know when you see them... which was a big point in Big Fish.

Casey: A big point! It's one of my favorite scenes, when they freeze everything—

Joe: I forgot about that part!

Casey: —"That moment in time, was when I realized," I don't know what he says—

Pam: "When you see the woman your going to marry, time stands still. Freezes," or something like that.

Casey: And literally, brushes away frozen popcorn, like, the imagery—

Pam: That was a good Tim Burton moment.

Casey: I love Tim Burton, and I love his art that he does with his films. And that was one of the best scenes in the movie, when he sees his wife, and time fast forwards, because when time freezes, it has to catch up. Also, Danny Devito, as the fucking circus ringer.

Joe: His first of two circus ringer Tim Burton films.

Pam: Yeah, there were some Tim Burton characters in there, like the guy who also works in the circus, he was the Oompa Loompas in—

Casey: Oh yes yes yes.

Joe: His first name is "Deep"

Pam: He has a really long last name, right?

Joe: No, it's short, it's like "Deep South" or something.

Casey: Yeah, he's like one of the clowns—

Joe: "Deep Park"? Or something...

Casey: So this might be a nostalgic factor... I don't know what would attract us to see that movie in 2003. Like, the last Tim Burton movie—

Joe: Was it like a Friday night in college?  [laughter]

Casey: No! It was during the week.

Pam: [fancy voice] "It was a Friday night at the movies!"

Casey: It was a chill night that we decided to go out.

Joe: You weren't missing anything back at campus.

Casey: I liked Johnny Depp at that time, but there was no Johnny Depp in this film.

Pam: Helena Bonham Carter though.

Casey: Yes, and that is... something I'd like to talk about.

Joe: We'll get there.

Casey: She's like me.

Pam: Oh yeah? As the witch?

Casey: With the cats!

Pam: [laughter]

Joe: So you don't see yourself as the "Will," you see yourself as the "Jen" slash "Witch"?

Pam: Every time you came to her house it was like [cat noise] cats running.

Joe: That was like, the cue—this is the same house, because there's cats.

Pam: That cat sound effect!

Casey: Do you remember in the circus scene, though, they have that whole trick where a cat jumps—

Joe: Oh my god, yeah.

Pam: We actually said that!

Joe: We looked at each other, like, "Is THIS why Casey likes this movie?"

Casey: Stop!

Pam: That cat looks like Beanie!

Casey: Rewatching it last night...

Joe: The cat definitely looks exactly like Beanie. Okay, so we were talking about why it was your favorite movie.

Casey: Okay, so the whole reminding me of my grandparents and their relationship, my Pop Pop's death and how that hurt my Grandmother so much. But also, how it tied the whole storyline together—"Man of the Hour." At the credits, a Pearl Jam song.

Joe: [laughter]

Pam: I dunno, I wasn't really with that song though.

Joe: Well they wrote it for the movie.

Casey: Did they?

Joe: Yeah, according to Wikipedia. What's his name, the Pearl Jam guy—

Pam: Eddie Vedder?

Joe: —Eddie Vedder, saw [a portion of] the movie and said, "We need to write a song for this."

Casey: It tied it all together for me, when I was really holding it in, the first time I saw it, trying my hardest. So the whole emotional factor was when the father is on his deathbed, and he says, "You tell me how it ends." That whole story—and then it goes back to him talking to his dad in the hospital, and then it goes back to the story that he's telling—that back-and-forth moment pulled at my heartstrings.

Joe: Yeah, that was a powerful scene.

Casey: And then the lighthearted scene when they're all at the funeral, and you're realizing that, wow, all these characters that he was talking about were true people, they're here and they loved [Edward] just like Will did... and then that song.

Pam and Joe: [laughter]

Casey: Because you get a break from the real intense moment at the hospital, the dad's dying, and he's talking about how he's dying, and, it's over. So the funeral scene is kind of a relief. And then that song plays.

Pam: So did you know that song before—

Casey: No! And you know I definitely went on Napster after I heard it!

Pam and Joe: [laughter]

Casey: It broke my heart. So... it brings us back to the bus stop, trying to hold it all in, I couldn't, and I just cried my eyes out. Brittany and Ashley thought I was a crazy person.

Joe: They didn't feel the same way?

Casey: No.

Joe: Why do you think that is? That you—like, what was the difference between you guys?

Casey: I guess because I related it back to my grandparents, those were the first deaths in my life. And plus Brittany and Ashley are assholes who don't show any emotion.

Joe: [laughter]

Pam: Can we strike that from the record?

Casey: Just kidding. No, who knows, it affected me in a different way. Everyone thought it was a good movie, but they weren't crying about it. And honestly, I do get emotional like that about a lot of movies, but this one was really different.

Joe: My chest got a little tight at the river scene.

Pam: Yeah, because you knew he was dying—

Casey: His lady in the river. "Your love is so pure." Okay, another favorite moment—when old Edward Bloom is in the bathtub, because he's so dried out, he's in the bathtub [wearing] his pajamas, and then Jessica Lange, his wife, decides to get in the bathtub with him. And does the little chin thing to her.

Pam: It was a sweet scene.

Joe: Okay, so as far as the theme of the movie, or themes, plural—

Casey: This is what I was scared about.

Joe: No, so we're touching on one, with true love, and fate and whatnot, and I think that's a legit theme of the movie. Is there another theme of the movie, in your opinion?

Casey: Not that this is a theme, but knowing that our parents—when we're growing up, you think, "they're annoying, they're too much for calling, their stories are dumb" or whatever. But we take them for granted, basically, because when it comes down to it, nobody is going to live forever, and the first that are gonna go are our parents, and they're the wisest people that I know, we need to take advantage of that, and often times we don't.

Joe: That's legit.

Casey: I guess.

Joe: So in that same vein, on a less personal note, do you feel like Edward Bloom did his son wrong by exaggerating the stories?

Casey: No, not at all. And this is also a [plot hole] in the movie. So if your husband is telling your son all these stories, exaggerated, wouldn't you chime in being like, "Well, ya know what, it wasn't actually a witch."

Joe: Meaning Jessica Lange's character.

Casey: Yeah.

Joe: At the end? Or—

Casey: No, throughout his life. There are [plot holes], like, why was Will so mad at the end? Because everyone loved his father so much.

Joe: I mean, Edward was definitely excessive with his tall tales, to the point where I thought that he was in the wrong. Will was definitely in the right. Not the wedding part, because, like, this is your classic tale, you're telling it at your son's wedding, and it is a tale of romance, love or whatever, but just like, even on your deathbed, constantly interrupting dinner with stories about how parrots speak French in the Guinea jungle? Like, c'mon. It felt like he went too far, and it... pissed me off a little bit, personally. Not that that ruined it...

Pam: I think it reminded me of—did you ever see Life of Pi?

Casey: Yes I have, that was a very good one.

Joe: Yes.

Pam: And it made me think of that, because Life of Pi is all about this crazy story that he tells about being on a shipwreck with these animals, and you come to find out at the end... did that really happen, or no? But what story would you rather hear?

Casey: That is what the doctor says, Will says, "I kinda like your version. The normal version." So a happy medium. But at the same time, it's like—this is what I get from it—appreciate your parents and your family while they're still here. And live more in the moment.

Joe: Do you think—I felt a lot about the power of storytelling in one's life. Putting aside my personal issues with how far Edward stretched his stories and... how unnecessarily far he stretched them, to the point where I got upset about that. Just the power of bringing people together, in that we as humans appreciate a good story. And if that means exaggerating a little bit, or maybe telling a white lie or whatever, then that's worth it in terms of making those connections with people.

Pam: And I think to connect both of your themes of storytelling and appreciating your parents, at the end it did say, he's going to live on in his stories now. When they were in the pool at the very end and the grandkids were telling his stories. That's how we remember people is telling stories about them.

Joe: I guess the way that I want to think of it, in terms of the movie, is that that's the way the dad wanted to live on. Did you guys, personally, would you want to be known for tall tales? After you die? Like, the only thing that exists of you is the lies that you told?!

Casey: I don't think he was worried about that—

Joe: Right, Edward wasn't, for sure—

Casey: —and one comment that Jessica Lange makes when they, when she says "I don't have the energy to go through this stuff," and she finds an old letter, and it said that her husband was dead, basically. And Will was like, "That was true, Mom?" "Not everything that your father said was a complete fabrication."

Joe: So maybe "lie" was too strong of a word.

Pam: Right, and at the funeral, didn't we find out that a lot of of his stories were probably not lies because all those people showed up?

Joe: Sure.

Casey: And also, can I go back to Danny Devito... turning into a werewolf?

Joe: [laughter]

Pam: That was unnecessary. [laughter]

Casey: Well...

Joe: That was Edward Bloom at his child's bedside being like, "I gotta bring this up a notch. I gotta add some crazy shit to this."

Casey: Hilarious, because it was fucking Danny Devito.

Pam: His little butt.

Joe: Did you picture him crawling out of a leather couch at Dennis's Christmas party?

Casey: The cast of characters. Danny Devito, Jessica Lange

Pam: Miley Cyrus!

Casey: Stop. Was she Jenny?

Pam: No.

Joe: [laughter]

Pam: She was in just the beginning, when they're going to the witch's house, she's one of the children. And [she's] also at the church.

Joe: Her birthname is "Destiny Cyrus," that's how she's billed.

Pam: You don't like Miley Cyrus?

Casey: ...Have you seen that new Black Mirror? Trash.

Joe: What?!

Casey: Trash. That one of Miley Cyrus was ridiculous, are you fucking kidding me? That was awful.

Joe: Wait. Hold up. Not every Black Mirror episode is good, but I wouldn't classify that one as "bad."

Casey: I thought... okay... Joe, I really just thought the whole episode was horrible. I don't even know what to say.

Joe: You're being recorded right now. Explain why.

Casey: No, we're not being recorded about Black Mirror! Can we go back to Big Fish?

Joe: Sure, let me go to my notes.

Casey: Let me go to my notes.

Joe: Okay, so, do you feel like Edward—

Casey: Oh! As an overall, I feel like the movie was very lighthearted, with a lot of humor. But also very heartfelt and emotional. Anyone can be emotionally connected to that film. Those are my closing statements.

Joe: We're not even close to being done.

Pam: [laughter]

Joe: Putting aside the fact that Edward's stories were clear exaggerations, and Will, in my opinion, rightfully thought that he exaggerated too much, did you feel uncomfortable at all when Edward in his stories, casted himself as the "noble hero" too much? Like, he was the sports star overall, he was the best man in his town, and these were stories he was telling his son, like, "I was the best, I was so good I had to leave town, and I was so good that the dude [who] was second best, I had to steal his girl"??

Casey: No, I don't feel like those were wrongfully told to his son, because, I mean, life is fucking hard, so hearing about your dad being a great hero—plus, there's only so many hours in a movie, you can't really... get into what really happened. I'm sure he was a hero, those were true stories.

Joe: I think your first point was more—

Casey: Okay, then cut out the second part!

Joe: No, bullshit, I like your first point better, in that he was saying these things because he was sometimes a shitty dad.

Pam: Well, he was away a lot.

Joe: Exactly! And when he came back from those year-long sojourns, he would tell his son stories about how he was better than he actually was.

Pam: Maybe the whole movie's about trying to be a good dad.

Casey: Honestly, I don't feel that Edward Bloom did fail at all, in that time period, in the '60s, '70s, when he was making a living, he was on the road. Did he... cheat on his wife? No. Did he always go back to his family? Yes. You're trying to analyze the details in between, but you can't really, because—

Joe: Well, listen to "Cats in the Cradle"! Isn't that what that song's about? About how—

Casey: Are we literally talking about cats and cradles? So cute.

Joe: They love each other, but it's a matter of finding time for each other. And the dad never found time for the son.

Casey: You're right, the dad did miss out.

Joe: Note how none of the tall tales he's telling involves a young child that is his biological child! It's all shit that happened before Will was born. The most recent tall tale he's told was fish on the day he was born, and that's it. Everything else's before that.

Casey: So now this is bringing us to... [sighs]... the witch. And this still confuses me, and I hope you guys might have an understanding on it. So what's her name, Tim Burton's wife?

Pam: Helena Bonham Carter.

Joe: I forgot they were married!

Pam: Yeah, that's why she's in all of his movies.

Joe: Shit.

Casey: She's a great actress by the way.

Pam: Bellatrix Lestrange!

Casey: So she shows up first as the old witch, and it circles back to where she is actually Jenny, the little girl that he met in that town...

Joe: Spectre.

Casey: Spectre. And then Edward Bloom comes back late, wants to rebuild the town, so they connect, and he rebuilds her house, and then finally she gives him the ownership rights. So when she meets with Will, and tells him this whole story, and says, "Your dad helped me build this house, helped rebuild this town, and I was attracted to him, but he denied, because he loved your mother." How does that connect to the witch from [Edward's] story as a young child? Because she is the witch, and I never understood why.

Joe: I was confused a little bit about that. They said something about "circular storytelling." So, according to Jenn, she became the witch in the eyes of the neighborhood children around her, as she grew into a piano cat lady. And—

Casey: Maybe I should learn how to play piano then.

Pam: Maybe you should get an eye patch!

Casey: Master's degree? Fuck that! I need a glass eye and a piano! And a ton of cats! And my house will just become decrepit. And some guy will save my house!

Pam and Joe: [laughter]

Joe: I saw it as Edward coloring his past stories with new knowledge. Like, she's considered a witch, and, oh, this gives me a good idea for an old story.

Pam: Maybe.

Casey: It was far-fetched.

Joe: THAT was the most far-fetched part of that movie?

Casey: Yeah.

Joe: ...Fair.

Casey: Also, I do like how they incorporated the giant, who actually is a real person who—

Joe: Was a real person.

Casey: —with gigantism, and he is passed. Because it was sixteen years ago.

Joe: For me, [he] looked like CGI or something when he first came out of the cave.

Pam: I think they made him look taller.

Joe: In certain scenes. It's called "forced perspective." Where, like, when they're receiving the medals, you can tell that actor was standing way in front of the other actors, but then the camera was zoomed in on them the same, so it looked like he was taller.

[bathroom break]

Casey: I was thinking about it when you asked to interview, I'm like, damn, you guys are all theater majors [laughter]. I don't really think about stuff that hard. But I know that it did impact me when I saw it, and it's always been a timeless movie for me. And I love Tim Burton, I love all the shit he puts out.

Joe: All of it? Is that a blanket statement?

Casey: Actually, so let's talk about that.

Joe: I liked his style in this movie, particularly, like... he has a style.

Casey: It was good, right?

Joe: Has there been Tim Burton movies since 2003 that you thought is, like, too Tim Burton? Because I have.

Casey: I can't even think of any. Like, name—

Joe: Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.

Casey: I was attracted to it because of Johnny Depp, but, nah. It was a little too much.

Joe: But maybe I think that because Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory—the first one—one of my favorite movies of all time. How about Alice in Wonderland from 2010?

Casey: Barely remember it. It was fucking weird, those fucking, those fucking little... dumplings. What are they fucking called?

Joe: I was gonna say "oompa loompas," but—

Casey: I know! That's what I wanted to say too, but, uh...

Joe: Tweedledee and Tweedledum?

Casey: Scariest thing I've fucking ever seen in my entire life. Scarred for life.

Joe: Sara B******, when she turned 21, for her birthday, we went to see Alice in Wonderland in 3D, and we snuck in Hurricane 40s. I was blackout drunk by the middle of that movie.

Casey: Well, I don't even think you need to see it.

Joe: I mean, it was a very typical Tim Burton movie. He just has a style that he hasn't deviated from at this point. In this decade.

Casey: But I felt like Big Fish, the imagery and story connected... are we still recording?

Joe: Yeah, we're still recording.

Casey: Goddamn it.

Joe: The Tim Burton style in Big Fish wasn't as obtuse[?].

Casey: Also, I had to see the new Nutcracker with my niece and nephew.

Pam: Wait, was that Tim Burton?

Casey: No, it was some bullshit.

Pam: Disney, right?

Casey: It's already on Netflix.

Pam: I'm never gonna watch it.

Casey: The most horrifying thing was the, like, Gingerbread Queen, and her little men, who were, like...

[unrelated Nutcracker discussion while Joe uses the bathroom, that somehow turns into talking about Casey's cat, Beanie]

Casey: ...I have to put an apron around her waist. Caring for a cancer patient, basically. But she's doing good.

Joe: She's not jumping [off] any circus tightropes?

Casey: No. I don't support circuses in general.

Joe: Okay.

Casey: Circuses are the devil.

Joe: I mean, there definitely was that joke in the movie, where he was like "Do you know what 'indoctrinated servitude is?" "No." It was kind of dark.

Casey: Well, Tim Burton. Dark. More questions, because I'm spent, I gave you all my feelings.

Joe: Sure, just a couple minor details that you might have an opinion on. Did you know that there was a Big Fish musical?

Casey: [laughter] No!

Joe: Yes, on Broadway. Me and Willow listened to about half of the official Broadway cast [album].

Casey: Was it horrible?

Joe: Maybe it's just me, but does every Broadway musical sound the same?

Pam: No. [laughter] That's just you, Joe.

Casey: Why did they feel the need—?

Pam: They make Broadway musicals out of every movie now.

Joe: Honestly. It's like a joke.

Pam: Beetlejuice: The Musical was just nominated for a Tony.

Casey: So does that mean that there is a cult following for Big Fish?

Pam: Probably not as big as Beetlejuice.

Casey: Oh! And also, Steven Buscemi. Oh my god. Classic. Love him. He is part of the reason why I like that movie.

Joe: That was slapstick, when you saw his poem, that he's been working on for thirteen years.

Casey: And the scene when they're do-si-do-ing, everyone's up in Edward's face, and then fucking Steve Buscemi, his eyes are like popping in the background, like doing the best moves ever, the best facial expressions ever... So can I also make a comment, about the fact that, alright, he tells a story at your wedding that's a little selfish... really, you're gonna not talk to your parents for three fucking years? Without the mom saying something, like, alright Edward, let's talk to your son, it's not a big deal, life is short, you have to wait till he's dying before... I know it's a story, I know it's a movie, but... three years not talking to a father, that's a long time.

Joe: No, that's fair. That's definitely not a reason why I wouldn't talk to my father.

Casey: But again, it's a movie, and I watch a movie to feel escape from life. But then again it connects you back to life. So it shouldn't be that realistic because we're trying to escape from life but we're also trying to reconnect back to our life. I love Jessica Lange, I think she looks beautiful in that movie, and they did a spot-on job with the younger version.

Joe: Do you feel like Jessica Lange often plays unreasonable characters?

Casey: No!

Joe: I do.

Casey: She does a beautiful job. For the short time she was [in] that film, she was, she did great.

Joe: Do you have a guess as to what Oscars this movie was nominated for?

Casey: That's a good one. Can I go to my lifeline? Pam K***?

Joe: Sure, but first what's your guess?

Casey: Again, you guys are all theater majors...

Pam: I'm going to say none. Or maybe makeup or costumes.

Casey: Something that has to do with imagery...

Pam: Like editing?

Casey: ...imagery? Is that a category?

Joe: Cinematography?

Pam: Well, sorry Drew, for when you read this!

Casey: Final answer. Not soundtrack. Soundtrack, I wanted to say impressed me, but it didn't.

Pam: No, and the acting was fine.

Casey: I liked the acting.

Pam: But it wasn't Oscar-worthy.

Casey: No?

Pam: No. It was good, like Ewan McGregor is awesome, but...

Joe: So the final answer...

Casey: Something with imagery.

Pam: I think makeup, maybe.

Joe: It was nominated for one award... Best Soundtrack.

Casey: [screams loudly while the baby sleeps in the bedroom right above where we are]

Pam: I'm going to kill you.

Casey: I will die.

Joe: Danny Elfman.

Pam: Wait, was it "Soundtrack" or "Score"?

Joe: Oh, "Score." What's the difference?

Pam: Well, the soundtrack that they release from, like if they released a CD from a movie that has all these curated songs—

Joe: That's fair.

Pam: —and a score, Danny Elfman wrote it, because he writes awesome music.

Joe: So, it's 2019, there are sequels to everything. Could—or should—there be a sequel to Big Fish, and if so, what would it be?

Pam: No.

Casey: No. The story concluded, and impacted us all in different ways.

Joe: But let's imagine a sequel to Big Fish. Let's tell a tale about it.

Casey: So maybe Will grows up, has children who—this is gonna get dark—I can't imagine living in our day and age, unless... Joe, I'm getting drunk, I can't do this anymore.

Joe: I'll edit as appropriate, don't worry.

Casey: Well, I just feel very jaded, as an adult, like, I can't storytell anymore. So this goes back to the whole story I guess. Um... you are an adult, you have experienced life, and you wanna make it easy for your children, so you do try to fabricate stories in life, to make it feel like life is gonna be okay, but you're telling your children bullshit lies. [laughter]

Joe: That's how you would classify Edward's storytelling?

Casey: No I don't! I feel like it's innocent, like he's...

Joe: You feel like his stories were so fabricated that it was clear that it was fabricated, and that made it less immoral?

Casey: No, I just feel like, versus our day and age, that was just an innocent time.

Joe: [laughter] Back in the early aughts?

Casey: No, William, I feel like he would do the same as his dad, maybe his stories won't be as exciting, like—this is a bullshit answer—

Pam: And his kids would just all be on their phones.

Joe: Like, "don't you care at all about my stories?" "What, dad?"

Pam: [laughter] "What's a story?"

Casey: Basically, that's what we're going to be telling Will Bloom, we'll tell Will Bloom, "get those space phones out of our faces."

Joe: ...That's the sequel? Okay.

Casey: The sequel is: "We don't have time for your stories."

Monday, June 24, 2019

The Albums That Matter: King Tuff

Joe runs through every album on his iPod, mostly in alphabetical order, and offers some brief thoughts. Check out previous columns HERE. Obviously, King Tuff does not fall in line alphabetically, but as previously explained, I'm also using this column to talk about the best albums of the 2010s. This is the next album I am discussing. Come back in December to find out where it falls in the rankings.


King Tuff
King Tuff
2012

It's been over two months since I've written anything for this column. A few excuses I could throw out there include: I'm burned out from writing about albums with no firm purpose (they aren't reviews, per se, so that's not the purpose); or perhaps that it's overwhelming to think about writing so many of these before the end of the year; or maybe I've just been too busy with other blog projects. But really, I think it's just that I couldn't come up with a good hook for King Tuff.

Which is a fucking shame, because this album fucking rocks. You can draw a direct lineage between the godfather of garage rock (the Nuggets compilation) and this 2012 album. It's mostly simple rock 'n' roll with some strange flourishes (Wikipedia doesn't include the genre tag "neo-psychedelica" for nothing). And so many hooks. Every song has a hook, in the simplest definition of the term—it hooks you in, and stays in your head all day.

Wikipedia also makes sense of King Tuff's style by giving a very brief musical biography. Two points. The first is that he was part of the Muggers, Ty Segall's backing band. If you can't see the similarities between King Tuff and Ty Segall, then you haven't listened to either one. 

Second point, which I found weirdly heartwarming, was the simple line that he "grew up around music; his father was a big music fan so he would hear all of his dad's music," and, I mean, it's pretty clear what type of music his dad listened to. I think it was heartwarming to me because of that dumb parent thing where everything that has anything remotely to do with children is now heartwarming to me. Like I can picture a future with Little Willow and her siblings dancing around to King Tuff, ya know? How music is passed down from one generation to the next, it's fucking great, man.

But yeah, you can dance to this shit, I wasn't making that part of the daydream up. "Alone & Stoned," "Baby Just Break," and especially album closer "Hit & Run," are absolutely blistering garage rock, you can't help but get up and move around. I mean, this album has a song ("Keep Movin'") that is literally about getting up and dancing using your best, weirdest moves, and THAT song is a great song to actually do the dances to. Meta-dancing at its finest since "The Monster Mash."

I didn't discover King Tuff until well after 2012. In fact, the first time I ever heard it, I was driving errands for Pam's baby shower (the second one, i.e. the fun keg party one). So yeah, my thoughts while listening to this album often return to that scary/exciting time in our lives. But King Tuff is one of those rare albums that doesn't even need that type of nostalgia boost to get it to the top of my personal charts. It's a good enough album on its own.

~~~~~~~~~~~

If this album sounds interesting, try this song: "Alone and Stoned"



~~~~~~~~~~~

Stray Observations
  • ALBUM COVER: It's some type of cartoon bat with a skull for a head, who is holding a guitar and a magic wand. I don't think there's anything deeper here than it just being a badass picture. King Tuff has other albums called Black Moon Spell (his next LP), Hex Dispensers (his first EP), and Screaming Skull (another EP), so while the music doesn't necessarily reflect the dark imagery, the aesthetic choices seem to more often than not.
  • Never got around to saying King Tuff's actual name above. It's Kyle Thomas. "King Tuff" is definitely more memorable.
  • No Grammys for King Tuff, obviously. Not even close. This album did peak at #2 on the "CMJ" charts, whatever the fuck they are?
  • One of those aforementioned errands I was running was going to Czerw's for some Port Richmond kielbasa. My brain is so weird that every time I pass the damn storefront, "Hit & Run" plays in my head.
  • I can't say enough about that closing track, "Hit & Run" (had I started the column a year earlier, it absolutely would've been the Song of the Week the week I first heard it). The way it escalates at the end is my own ASMR trigger.
  • King Tuff released a new album last year, The Other. While more mellow and less danceable, it's still totally great and totally underrated.

NEXT TIME: Bark Your Head Off, Dog by Hop Along

Sunday, June 23, 2019

Album of the Week: Lumos

Yes, during a week in which my favorite band of all time releases a new album, Jack White's old band releases their first album in eleven years, and a Philly band is hyped up for releasing the album on which they finally level up, THIS is what I'm choosing. And I'm so very, very excited to listen. In my entire life, I have never listened to a single second of Harry and the Potters' music (and I won't until I download it after this post goes up), so I have no idea what we're all in for. This could be TERRIBLE. In fact, that's likely! Let's do this shit!!!! (Or, of course, just go back to some old albums and relive the first half of 2019 in Record Club music.)

WEEK 21 — June 23-29, 2019

What we're listening to this week (Joe's pick):


ALBUM: Lumos
ARTIST: Harry and the Potters


RELEASED: June 21, 2019

WHAT GENRE IS THIS: Wizard Rock! Yes, a genre that features only this band (at least, ever since Draco and the Malfoys broke up)!

WHY JOE PICKED IT: Honestly, here's the truth, kids. I just reread the Harry Potter series (the first four and half with Willow, until Willow wouldn't let us anymore, and then the rest myself in the span of like 72 hours), and I gotta say, the magic is still fucking there. Even though I know this album has the potential to be utter trash, I'm hoping that it's not. I want an album based on HP and the Deathly Hallows to be just as good as the book itself. At the very least, the themes of the book (and thus, this album) can certainly be applied to today's world, no? If Lumos makes at least one connection between Voldemort's anti-Muggle-ism and a MAGAt's xenophobia, I'll be content.

TRACKLIST:
  1. Lumos
  2. You're Not the Wizard
  3. Good Riddance (Privet Drive)
  4. The Trace
  5. On the Importance of Media Literacy Under Authoritarian Rule
  6. Hermione's Army
  7. What Happened to the Cat?
  8. The Banality of Evil (Song for Albert Runcorn)
  9. Gone Campin'
  10. Where's Ron (ft. Kimya Dawson)
  11. No Pureblood Supremacy
  12. Voldemort in Your Head
  13. The Sword, the Cup, and the Dragon
  14. The Cloak
  15. The Stone
  16. The Wand
READING SOME SHIT: Read about The Harry Potter Alliance, founded by the band, turning book fans into activists!

Happy listening, fam! Have a great week!

Saturday, June 22, 2019

Song of the Week: "Isis"

NEW: Check out a Spotify playlist of all the Songs of the Week HERE. Compiled with help from friends.



"Isis"
Bob Dylan
from Desire
1976

In the vast scope of Bob Dylan's discography, Desire stood as an accomplished but slightly forgotten LP from the mid-'70s. It's punctuated with lots of violin, which gives the whole thing a slight Deadwood feel. Since I received this album for Christmas in like 2007, I've always liked it, but it wasn't one I returned to often or particularly gave a spare thought to.

That all kind of changed this past week, when Pam and I sat down and watch the new Scorsese doc, Rolling Thunder Review. The 210-minute film (we had to watch it over the course of two nights because I'm a sleepy baby) had a lot of interviews and a lot of concert footage. The interviews were mostly fascinating, mainly due to the fact that Bob Dylan is a bullshit artist off-stage, and his social circle were a bunch of wackadoo post-hippies who looked like David Cross. (Also, a lot of the interviews were actually fake? WTF?!)

But yooooooo, the concert footage was on point. There was an energy on stage that sometimes doesn't translate into Dylan's studio recordings. "Isis" in particular, stood out to me as a song revitalized on stage.

The studio album is laid-back, like a cowboy slowly riding his horse through a pasture. The live version was fucking INTENSE. Dylan stands there on stage, harmonica armed like a weapon, slightly crouched, stomping his foot in some sort of tribal fashion, as if he is Indian chief, telling a horror story around the fire. The way the cameraman shoots the footage adds to the audience's heightened experience—mostly close-ups of Dylan's face, painted white, his eyes and teeth yellow in contrast, the eyes squinted with rage, the teeth spitting vitriol.

When I listen to the Desire version of "Isis" now, it sounds different. I appreciate it more, because now I can hear the beating heart in the center of it.

Friday, June 21, 2019

Years to Burn, Pam


Years to Burn is yet another chill, acoustic, folky album from Iron & Wine. I've never listened to Calexico before this so I can’t say much in the department of whether this is anything different for them. And honestly, the album featured less Calexico than I was hoping for when I chose it. Typically, Iron & Wine are a bit on the sad sounding side for artists. Appropriate music for moody college kids, amiright? Their previous album, Beast Epic, was a total surprise and quite possibly an outlier in terms of both excitement and my own enjoyment (both being more prevalent than usual for Iron & Wine listening). But Years to Burn kinda ended up sounding like all the rest of their albums before that. I did like the Tejano flair that Calexico added to a number of songs. I also liked that the album itself was short—had it been longer I think it would have put me to sleep.

Years to Burn, Laura


Reading that Iron & Wine was the featured artist of this week’s record club sparked a bit of nostalgia and kept me singing the slowed down cover of the Postal Service’s "Such Great Heights" on repeat for a few days now. As such, it was time to jump back in, listen, and review.

It’s always rang true to me that the setting in which I’ve first listened to a song can very well determine my thoughts on whether it may be something I’ll continue to listen to or, for lack of a better word, "like." By myself at the wheel of my car following a long day of work, I chose to turn my radio off and play Years to Burn. What I didn’t choose during my listen, however, was a 45-minute battle with traffic and intermittent torrential downpours.

From beginning to end, Years to Burn proved to enhance my mood and relax me all at the same time during what had the potential to be an otherwise miserable commute.  I enjoyed the pairing of a familiar “Iron & Wine vibe" with Calexico’s Tex-Mex flair.  I don’t recall hearing any Calexico prior to this, but may now branch out to see if I like them just as well on their own.  My favorite track on this album was “Follow the Water,” but I enjoyed them all—even "Outside El Paso" had its place.

Although a short eight songs, I feel that this album was a prefect length.  I was able to finish listening in one sitting, even leaving me room to play a few more Iron & Wine songs afterwards.  Overall, this album made me feel calm, relaxed, and at ease.  It was what I needed on my ride home from work; what more can I ask for?  I’ll be keeping this in my back pocket to listen to again on another rainy day.