RC Misc.: New Exit Survey; Average; f/u w/Cam'ron

A few miscellaneous musings re: Record Club as we celebrate 200 weeks of reviewing music.

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Exit Survey

As I've mentioned a couple times in the last few Final Words (view all of them HERE), I'm tossing around the idea of making the exit survey "mandatory" for all weekly captains in 2023. The ability to make anything "mandatory" is pretty weak when it comes to blogging, maybe even impossible. There are at least five album pickers over the past four-ish years who ended up not writing a review at all, and I can't get them to do it, despite my best efforts. Good luck trying to get anyone to do even more work for some stupid ass blog thing than they already are.

Still, if I'm going to attempt the rule change, then I think we need to tighten up the exit survey itself. I wrote the first iteration of it while extremely intoxicated, and it's been made clear multiple times that some of the questions are vague and repeat themselves. Let's see if we can do better.

Here is the new survey. I'm open to more suggestions on how to make it better. In the meantime, I'll give it a test run this Saturday, in the aftermath of Swift (even though technically I'm not the weekly captain, since the album was picked by the ALGORITHM!!!).

1. Were you happy with the reviews that were published? How do you feel about your week as Record Club captain?

2. How was the variety of opinions? A wide range, kinda samey, or somewhere in the middle?

3. Were there any differing opinions that made you view the album in a different light?

4. Was there anything about this album or this artist that you wished that people would've written about more?

5. How do you feel about your album choice now that the week is over? A success? Any regrets?

6. Any other takeaways from the reviews? Or from this experience in general?

7. What is an improvement that Record Club can make that would enhance everyone's experience, either as a captain or as a listener/writer?

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Average

Kinda crazy that I've written an album review 199 weeks in a row. It's long become a habit, and it's a habit I'm proud of. An interesting aspect to the whole shebang is that I've attached numerical values to each album at the conclusion of every single review, and so we can upload those numbers to a spreadsheet and check out the average. By calculating the AVERAGE, am I assigning a numerical grade to the very idea of music itself?! Maybe!

The average grade of every single one of my RC reviews: 3.01005

An actual average of a 0 to 5 puke scale would be 2.5, so a personal average of just over 3, in my mind, makes it seem like I am optimistic about music in general. And I am! Or at least try to be! I might not like all music, but I appreciate the existence of all music. It's that appreciation, I think, that bumps the average up that extra 0.5.

Either that or all scoring is meaningless and I should just quit already.

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RC f/u

U Wasn't There by Cam'ron and A-Trak

Released: September 23, 2022

Follow-up to: Purple Haze, Week 119

Despite the fact that Cam'ron has A-Trak along with him for the ride this time, and despite the fact that it's less than a half hour (versus Purple Haze's bloated 77 minutes), there are clear indications that U Wasn't There is part of a lineage. It's not a direct sequel (for that, see 2019's Purple Haze 2), but there are clues that Purple Haze was on Cam'ron's mind when he was putting this new mixtape together. Cam'ron is a man who is ultra-aware of his own legacy. I can appreciate that.

I guess I'm mainly talking about "What You Do," which is basically Cam'ron rapping about the same shit you can read on his Wikipedia page, like various controversies and rivalries. It brought a smile to my face that the smirk heard 'round the world got a mention, since it was the linchpin of Sunny's review. But I mainly just love the idea of someone performing their résumé. As if Cam'ron honestly needed to prove himself at this point. Psh.

I used the word "bloat" above when referring to Purple Haze, but I also think that the bloat is part of its charm. There is so much wacky bullshit all over that album that I can't help but admire it. The chicken lady sketch? I will never, ever forget it. There is nothing like that on U Wasn't There (well, okay, there's one "skit," but it's ultra-serious, unlike the quacking chicken—it's more concerns about legacy). It's just a few loose bangers stitched together. I really like it in a different way than I liked Purple Haze. There is less manic, bizarre energy, but in being compacted down to less than a half-hour, it still feels weighty. The final song, "Dipshits," is one of the best songs I've heard all year, so what does that say?

I think I perhaps underrated Purple Haze at the time. Maybe it deserved a 4/5. I also think that U Wasn't There deserves a 4/5. But I also feel really weird making a numerical statement that U Wasn't There is better than Purple Haze. It's not better. It's just different in a lot of great ways. It's more accessible for sure, and I can't decide whether that is a good thing or not. Depends on the day. In any case, Cam'ron remains a rapper to watch, as far as this blog is concerned.

GRADE: 3.5 pukes out of 5 (no change from previous review)

P.S. I'm justifying the 3.5/5 instead of 4/5 through personal reasons too, because the first time I listened to this album, my basement flooded around Track 4. Too much trauma attached to this album now. I'll get over it, but I need time. So 3.5/5 works well for multiple reasons.

A Year of Blind Spots: Hysteria

I've always had a soft spot for Def Leppard. That may sound silly on its face, because, at least musically speaking, there isn't that much difference between these guys and any other of the faces on the Hair Metal Mount Rushmore (e.g. Guns N' Roses, which released Appetite for Destruction two weeks before Def Leppard released Hysteria). Lots of shrieking and strutting and big guitars and booming drums and sex and violence and utterly delightful corniness.

Here me out though: Def Leppard is worthy of the attention for extra-musical reasons, and that's because of their drummer. About two and a half years prior to the release of Hysteria (but after Def Leppard started to work on Hysteria—it was a long recording process), drummer Rick Allen got in a bad car accident. It was so bad that they had to amputate his left arm. For literally any other drummer, this would have been the professional end, and for literally any other hard rock band, this would have signaled the need for a new drummer.

Def Leppard is the exception. Instead of throwing Rick Allen out into the cold, short-and-unglamorously-haired world, they chose to keep him in the band, and together, a new drum set was created from scratch. Using advance pedal technology, a drum kit was made for Allen that could be played mostly with his feet and his right arm. He's still playing that custom drum set with Def Leppard today.

What an awesome act of empathy, man. To say fuck it and keep your brother in the family, no matter the cost. I love it and I always have. I'm not trying to make a case that the members of Def Leppard are living saints, as I'm sure they all indulged in the 1980s hard rock party scene that was standard for musicians of their standing, and all the icky stuff that entails. I'm just saying that, unlike many of their peers, Def Leppard have at least one single shining act of selflessness that they can point to and say: we are different.

I can't say in good faith that this act of kindness comes out in the music of Hysteria, but it makes it easier for me to view the music on this album through that lens anyway. The party anthem "Pour Some Sugar on Me" seems 98% more innocent than it would have otherwise. #1 hit "Love Bites" has a power behind it that it would've lacked for your run-of-the-mill hair metal band. A dumb deep cut like "Rocket" can be viewed as a fun and worthy dumb song, instead of just a dumb song.

I know it's a reach, but this is where I stand with this band. Knowing that a group of dudes playing classic rock isn't completely composed of boorish ape men really unlocks a whole new appreciation for me when it comes to this shit.

Song of the Week: "Brandy (You're a Fine Girl)"

Songs of the week can be found listed HERE. I'm thankful to have this framework to talk about whatever the fuck I want.

"Brandy (You're a Fine Girl)"

Looking Glass

from Looking Glass

1972

I usually make a playlist for gatherings at my house (parties too, but those rarely happen anymore). The goals are two-fold, and somewhat contradictory. The first goal is that the playlist should not be distracting; it should be background music, as far as good music can be in the "background." Put 300 good songs together, but make sure they aren't distracting (no overly-fast tempos or gaps of silence or general weirdness). But the second goal is to feature some songs, within those aesthetic restrictions, that make participants of the gathering kind of snap out of it and go, "Wait, I know this song, and you know it too? What is this song doing on your playlist?"

Happens all the time. Last month, when we had Martha's birthday family gathering a few weeks early, I had the most recent iteration of the playlist going while we were munching on appetizers and getting ready to go trick-or-treating at the horse stable (don't ask). My dad stops me, shocked—"I think this is the song I'd least expect to be on one of your playlists."

He was talking about "Brandy (You're a Fine Girl)," and I get it. It's definitely a "lame" song. It hit #1 in 1972. It's a sort of yacht rock thing, maybe proto-yacht if you wanna get technical. I would have never known about the song were it not for Stereogum's Number Ones column, but when I discovered it, I really fell for the hook. Lame, yes, but still catchy, and pretty perfect for a playlist.

The Stereogum write-up calls it "pure cheese." It's okay that we can acknowledge that now. According to my dad, this was the opinion de jour back in 1972 as well. I mean, he was eleven years old at the time, so let's take his memory of his opinion with a grain of salt here, but apparently he and his friends "had some things to say" about the song back then. I.e., they made fun of "Brandy." Again, I get it! It's a silly, lame song!

But at the same time, the consequences of a song being "lame" has changed radically in the past fifty years. The stigma, as far as I can tell, has been completely wiped away. My dad and his peers may have sneered at "Brandy," and refused to listen to it. I hear the same exact song, and yet I know that it is totally okay to unabashedly love such a song, no matter whether it's "lame" or not.

This sort of breakdown of the cool/lame dichotomy, or maybe the dissolution of genres, especially in the context of my relationship with my father, has been written about before on the blog. But it's not just with him. He's part of a generation that all seems to feel this way. Boomers get very uptight when confronted with the idea that all music is worthy of exploration.

One time, I asked my aunt (not related) if she listened to Tommy James & the Shondells. Her response: "How old do you think I am?!" On the one hand, the response makes sense to me, since she would've been at prime music identity formation age (fifteen-ish?) in 1979, and the Shondells had their final #1 ("Crimson and Clover") in 1968. On the other hand, a good song is a good song no matter when it came out, and a good artist is a good artist no matter when they hit their peak.

Maybe I just spend too much of my time obsessed with music of the past. Emotionally, perhaps I feel like I "missed out" to an extent, and spend the majority of my time trying to "catch up." Whereas, for someone who grew up in the '70s, that desire may have not been necessary, since their "present" was in many ways a great time to be into music. I'll have the opposite argument with someone who focuses ALL their attention on their past, of course (and I have, and it's been documented). I think I'm mainly saying that my generation makes room for both, and that a particular song being not of my scene or being too old for me could never be a concern. A good song is a good song.

No, maybe today's argument should be even more general than that. It's not that you even need to have room in your heart for all kinds of music. It's more that you should be able to listen to whatever music you want, and love any music that speaks to you, without judgment or constraint. For me, my dad taking a shit on "Brandy" does nothing to affect how I feel about it, but for others, maybe their family members not supporting their musical choices might have an adverse effect.

And vice versa! Maybe I've been too judgmental about the Boomer way of life. You don't have to listen to everything. I am privileged to have access to any music I want to listen to. Boomers had to make a decision: should I spend a couple bucks on a 45rpm of Looking Glass's new hot single? And maybe a financial decision turns into an emotional decision over time. I dunno. Just look at those nutso BTS fans now, using their money to assert their dominance on the charts. I don't have to make a choice, but other people did have to make one.

In any case, none of these arguments for or against are going to change the playlist, so next time you come over, get ready for a chance at hearing some 1970s yacht rock. And more in general, I'll say that it feels pretty good to like good music regardless of context, and you should consider joining me in this carefree lifestyle if you can. It's nice to... travel from port to port, listening to the local music... never sticking around... I'll make it clear I can't stay... okay, you get it, you get it, just listen to this song, OKAY DAD?!?!

Album of the Week: Midnights

Well, here we are at the start of the 200th week of Record Club. I think there is enough data from these past 199 weeks' worth of reviews to construct what we'll call the RECORD CLUB ALGORITHM.

Basically, I combed through all 959 reviews that have been written for Record Club so far, and I made a list of every musical artist that was ever mentioned in any review. View the spreadsheet HERE.

I didn't include mentions of the artist who made the album, obviously. I didn't include mentions of an artist if they were involved in the making of the album in any way, like a feature, or in reference to a production credit, or anything like that. I didn't count any RC alumni, whether they had been made a part of RC when the review was written at that point or not. I didn't count any artist who is ineligible for Record Club currently (basically any alum, plus the Beatles). I didn't count any artist who is technically eligible but whom I felt uncomfortable with the prospect of covering in Record Club ("cancelled" if you want to call it that, though it's really more of a personal choice on my part—anyone from R. Kelly to Arcade Fire to Michael Jackson).

Minus those exceptions, I counted 914 separate mentions of artists. I put them in chronological order. Then, in a separate list, I grouped together artists. I also made a third list grouped together by writer. But it's that second list that I'm using for the next few weeks. Through this algorithm, we answer the question: which artists have been mentioned the most by the Record Club writers over the past 199 weeks?

This week, we are doing the second place winner. Next week will be the third place winner (on a tiebreaker). Then finally, the week before Christmas, we'll do the artist who has been mentioned the most times in reviews since Record Club began. (You can count them yourself on the spreadsheet if you want to be spoiled, I don't mind.)

When I think "algorithm," I think about a computer program answering the prompt "If you like THIS, then you'll probably like THAT," based on totally arbitrary metrics. The Record Club Algorithm is answering the prompt by giving you the artists that you've mentioned the most times in reviews. It might not ACTUALLY be true that if you like these 199 RC artists, then you'll like today's artist, but that's the what the algorithm is telling you, so listen up, pals.

Read all the reviews at the archives, check out the goals for one of the last times, and then continue on below to see what the algorithm has in store today. Happy 200, everybody.

Week 200 — November 27-December 3, 2022

What we're listening to this week (according to the RC algorithm):

ALBUM: Midnights

ARTIST: Taylor Swift

RECORD CLUB REVIEWS THAT HAVE MENTIONED TAYLOR SWIFT AND HAVE THUS INFORMED THE ALGORITHM TO CHOOSE TAYLOR SWIFT THIS WEEK: Nate's 1000 gecs review, Joe's Push Back review, Rachel's Walk Through Fire review, Joe's SOUR review, Rachel's SOUR review, Joe's Masterpiece Theatre review, Rachel's 30 review, Rachel's Humble Quest review, Joe's Dance Fever review, Jeff's Purgatory review, Joe's Deadpan Love review, Nate's Return of Saturn review.

RELEASED: October 21, 2022

LOCATION: West Reading, PA

WHAT GENRE IS THIS: Pop

TRACKLIST:

1. Lavender Haze
2. Maroon
3. Anti-Hero
4. Snow on the Beach
5. You're on Your Own, Kid
6. Midnight Rain
7. Question...?
8. Vigilante Shit
9. Bejeweled
10. Labyrinth
11. Karma
12. Sweet Nothing
13. Mastermind

LENGTH: 44:02

 

WHERE TO LISTEN FOR FREE: YouTube

READING SOME SHIT, #1: Our PoYB Taylor Swift correspondent Rachel S. shares this transcribed excerpt from a podcast about Taylor Swift. There's some pretty salient points made about Swift's "image" in our culture.

READING SOME SHIT, #2: Here's an embarrassingly obsessive feature on Vox that "explains" every song on Midnights.

RECORD CLUB ALBUM ON THE DAY THAT THIS ALBUM WAS RELEASED: OK to Go by Virginia Coalition, with reviews from Joe, Pam, Nate, Sunny, and Sam (with Zach's face on the side of a milk carton).

PREVIOUSLY ON RECORD CLUB: There's probably a lot to write about in this section. Though RC has never covered a Taylor Swift album before, Swift seems to have her hands in a lot of different corners of the pop music world, so there are going to be plenty of connections to albums we have covered.

Just off the top of my head, I recall that "1 step forward, 3 steps back" on Olivia Rodrigo's SOUR has a Swift writing credit, since it interpolates Swift's song "New Year's Day." And then also Cautious Clay's big claim to fame is that he had one of his songs interpolated by Taylor Swift on one of hers. Nothing wrong with sharing music is everyone gets the proper credit, and the great pop machine tends to share a lot between its many cogs and gears. Also: Taylor Swift featured on a song by John Mayer one time, though I feel like somebody might have mentioned that in their Mayer review, I forget.

Jack Antonoff is the co-writer and co-producer for the entire album, and this is certainly not the first time his name has popped up in this club (and I'm not even talking about his 2021 Grammy co-winner Aaron Dessner, he of the National, who did the lion's share of the work over Antonoff for Swift's folklore and evermore, but who is relegated to a single bonus track for Midnights). Antonoff has credits on a few Record Club albums, including the aforementioned SOUR. He co-wrote and produced the Chicks' Gaslighter and Florence + the Machine's Dance Fever. He also produced a couple songs in 2022 that feature no less than four RC alumni—Diana Ross and Tame Impala doing the original song "Turn Up the Sunshine," and Tierra Whack covering Fleetwood Mac's "Black Magic Woman," both for that goddamn Minions soundtrack. Not to mention that Antonoff's first Billboard #1, fun.'s "We Are Young," features Janelle Monáe (I totally forgot about this until now).

Plenty of other people get credits on Midnights. There's Sounwave, who had previously produced a song featuring EarthGang. There's Lana Del Rey, who features in "Snow on the Beach." This isn't even the first time we've heard Del Rey's voice on an RC album; she was featured on "Woman" way back in Week 3, on Cat Power's Wanderer. There's Randy Merrill, who's also been the mastering engineer for RC artists Harry Styles, Adele, Maren Morris, BTS, and Olivia Rodrigo. There's Serban Ghenea, who's also done the mixing for RC artists Destiny's Child, Miley Cyrus, lizard person Demi Lovato, Weezer, BTS, Kelly Clarkson, and Dave Matthews Band.

There's Zoë Kravitz, who starred in Big Little Lies. That show's theme song was written by Michael Kiwanuka. That show also stars Laura Dern (who's in a video for a Midnights song) and Nicole Kidman (who starred in the 2018 film Boy Erased, which also featured Joe Alwyn, who receives a writing credit on this album for "Sweet Nothing," under his pseudonym "William Bowery" (he's also dating Swift)). Poor Reese Witherspoon, who is first-billed in Big Little Lies, but has nothing to do with Taylor Swift... unless you count the fact that Witherspoon's book club's most famous pick was Where the Crawdads Sing, which was just released as a film adaptation, featuring a new Swift song that might just net her an Oscar.

Okay, that's enough. You get it. Taylor Swift is finally here in Record Club. We've mentioned her a bunch, and we've been in her orbit forever. Now let's listen.

Happy listening, fam! Have a great week!

The Record Club Final Word: Joe on Free Your Mind!

If you pick an album for Record Club, you will get an "exit survey" on Friday morning, after the reviews have been published. I just wanted to provide space for the album picker to have the final say, if they feel like they need some sort of closure on the week. Closure feels good. It's totally and completely optional at this point, which means most people don't fill it out. I'm probably going to make it "mandatory" in 2023, which will probably mean we'll get an extra two or three exit surveys throughout the year. We'll see!

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1. Was there anyone who convinced you to consider a different opinion regarding the album itself?

Nah, not really. I think there's a wide range of feelings about hardcore music, with the RC poles yesterday being Nate (really likes hardcore music and this particular album being an average at best representation of the genre) and Melissa (hardcore literally causing illness). Me and Rachel and Sunny falling somewhere in the middle. But certain genres are just gonna be polarizing, that's all. It's gonna take a lot more than four reviews of an eleven-minute album to move my opinion on this sound.

2. Was there anyone who you felt did a good/bad job at presenting their own views, regardless of whether you agreed with said views?

This question is the reason I'm going to revamp this exit survey by 2023—of course no one does a bad job at presenting their own views. That would be impossible. To write means to expose who you are. My blog friends know themselves, and thus present themselves deftly.

3. Were the reviews varied, or did this album elicit same-y opinions? What about that album made that true? Or do you think that this answer is reviewer-dependent and not album-dependent?

As I said, there was a range, but that range still fell pretty much in the area of "this is average." So I'd choose "same-y" over "varied" to answer the first question. I think the Sunday write-up had a fair amount to do with this. Free Your Mind! might not be your cup of tea subjectively, and it may not even be good objectively... but to give voice to the band through even a short email interview makes it exponentially harder to talk smack.

So you had Sunny and Melissa gracefully declining to criticize and instead giving acknowledgment to this sound's worth to other communities. So you had me and Rachel attempting find empathy in the dark themes presented as we listen in this dark moment in time. So you had Nate toning down the Cranky Nate routine by at least seven notches.

4. Did the variety of reviews justify the album choice? Would you choose a different album (yes/no) based on the reviews received?

Hell yeah. I love forcing friends to experience something new, to feel something strange, to consider something different. The backstory was the carrot. The eleven-minute pummeling was the stick. A jolly good time during a holiday week.

5. What can Record Club do differently to make your RC experience (especially as a weekly captain) a worthwhile one?

Loving the responses to the survey so far. I'm already formulating some big plans for 2023 to make Record Club even better.

6. Any other takeaways you have from this experience?

I miss Pam.

Free Your Mind!, Sunny

I'm glad JMK was able to interview leadperson Rebecca so that she could reference video game Persona as an example of pronouncing the band's name, so that I didn’t have to, and instead would reference the reference.

Persona is a great almost analogy for normal human living. Think: you're a high schooler. You have friends who you develop social bonds with in and out of school. You use these bonds and the power of imagination to stop evil plots and change hearts. You allow the real, deep persona of a particular person develop to the level of awakening, power, and actualization. You go out for sushi buffet.

Without being sure I get it, that last part is what I think Free Your Mind! is pushing towards, and in that respect I'm all about it. In another respect, however, this stuff is way too hardcore for me. But hey, they're doing something here! And eleven minutes! I can jam about that long on this frequency, but that's probably about it. Keep being crazy you crazy kids.

Free Your Mind!, Melissa

Scene: Melissa dusts off the ol' keys of her computer, readying herself for the music she's about to review. It's been a while since she's done a review, so she cracks her knuckles and steadies herself at the keys. She clicks on the giant pink play button, realizes the genre is hardcore punk too late, and is screamed at immediately. 

I appreciate the talents of the musicians in Person(a). I am sure it takes something to play instruments in this riotous, pounding, impressive manner and to safely scream/sing. I am not sure that I will ever have a positive reaction to hardcore punk, so that's on me with this one. I had already felt like I'd had too much coffee—the line between shaky and nauseous had been crossed, and this album somehow intensified that feeling. 

Art is art though, and, again, I appreciate this album. I had a reaction. It made me think. It startled me. Whether that reaction was caffeine sickness doesn't make the work any less valid. 

Free Your Mind!, Nate

I am not immune to the rising tide of American Hardcore that has been seizing the imagination of the parts of the internet that I frequent. The Drug Church album will be a Top Five for me when the beans get counted in a few weeks. The new and previous Mindforce albums are immense fun. I, too, have seen the virtues and values of a Long Knife. I'm listening to goddamn Meat Wave as I write this thing! I have no strong opinions about Turnstile! I have come around somewhat on the Armed (but only a very little bit, mostly just on this particular video of "All Futures")! You have any idea how many shitty hardcore bands you play with if you're in a bad punk band? You know how long I've been listening to this shit? Longer than you think, Dad!

And so, it is with the weight of experience that I come you to and say that Person(a) is fine. It's fine!

Why do hardcore bands of a certain stripe print their lyrics in all-caps on their Bandcamp pages? Why, if the lyrics are so important to them, as they seem to be here, is the delivery of those lyrics so obscured? Listen to Soul Glo; there is a band that understands the value in a different vocal mix as opposed to one pitched at the same frequency of the guitars. I can do without the squealing, too. I understand it as texture, but it pulls me further from the queercore riot I am supposed to be participating in. There is honor and glory in shouting and playing fast, and there is a real argument that the only version of hardcore worth a damn is the version that excludes anyone outside of the scene. Those songs will serve their crowd well and will leave the rest of us to other pursuits. All the better for everyone.

The Persona video game is sweet, though, and the soundtrack kicks ass.

Free Your Mind!, Rachel S.

Man! My anxiety and seasonal blues have been shall we say... heightened lately. I'm not sure if listening to this album helped (RAGE! RAGE AGAINST THE DYING OF THE LIGHT!) or kind of made it a little worse? But hey, that's my shit.

The album itself, well, it's exactly what was promised: hardcore punk. Loud, thrashy. Louder. Thrashier. You gotta love something that kicks off with "AM I LIVING IN HELL!?" (Though the midterms went better than expected, we still have El*n's Twitter, so yes, we are indeed living in hell.) I at least get the vibe that the people at Person(a)'s basement show would help someone out if they fell down in the pit, you know? That's my vibe, even if the album isn't. A younger Rachel, maybe, with more collagen and cartilage would be up for it. Still, I'm glad the punks are still alive and well (well being a relative term, here). Music and society needs a little punk rock injected into its veins. It's what keeps us awake, maaaaan.

Free Your Mind!, Joe

If you're not into THIS kind of music, then you probably aren't going to have your mind changed after listening to Person(a), no matter how much the album title is insisting that you give it a chance. Who it is made by feels different to me, sure, based on my limited scope of knowledge re: hardcore. But what it is feels no different than any random Bandcamp band with these genre tags that might randomly pop up on the desktop. Literally the only thing that will make this album truly stand out from any of my past and future hardcore experiences is that Free Your Mind! is now being viewed through the lens of Record Club, which doesn't amount to much besides a bigger magnifying glass, I guess. The bottom line, here at the beginning: this is pretty okay.

It's all about choices, though. You can choose to dismiss it, and I wouldn't blame you. I dismiss music like this every day. I dismiss it because it's difficult to connect with intense pain like this too often, and so I take the easy way out and ignore it. I think if I were to risk being the oldest person in the room by about twelve years and attended a hardcore show in some secret warehouse, I might look around and wonder about the people who are in the room with me, pushing each other to the sound of songs like "It's a Death Cult." I might wonder what's going in their lives that this amount of pain and misery and hatred (directed inward and outward) is okay. 

If I really dug deep, I know I could allow myself to be right there in the pit with them. The world is a disgusting place, and the pain is easy to feel if you let yourself feel it. The titanic and often unintelligible howl of frontwoman Rebecca makes it clear that she's feeling it. The screaming might be what turns you off, but you cannot deny its purpose. The lyrics hurt, and there is only one way to convey them. And there are plenty of lyrics on Free Your Mind! that I can without a doubt mark as true, but it's tough, man. Here's one of the better ones:

"Always waiting for apocalypse that's always almost here / but what does doomsday mean in a genocidal culture / where billions have suffered to bring you all you hold dear?"

This is all true, but marking it true means acknowledging there's a problem, and it means acknowledging that I am part of that problem, and it means that by ignoring the problem, I exacerbate that problem... but I'm just so worn out all the time. Emotionally, I mean (though physically too, but for completely different and happier reasons). Free Your Mind! amounts to eleven minutes of doomscrolling, if you choose to follow along. Now multiply that by the number of hardcore bands out there putting out their own eleven-minute screeds featuring the same themes of antipathy and bile-spewing anger—which, I dunno, let's say at least 100,000 across the globe?!—and that's a whole lot of psychic baggage to take on while you're tackling a particular genre of music. I am a coward. So it goes.

And add all this on top of the fact that we are, through Person(a), receiving a radio signal from a minority group that historically is at the receiving end of much of the violence perpetuated in America. Republican lawmakers respond to the violence by outlawing medical procedures that provide healing. And that's just physical; think about what it does to someone emotionally when the bulk of national discourse revolves around where you can use the restroom and if you can compete in a fucking swimming race. Thus: the levels of attempted suicide among transgender youth is absurdly high. [Edit: also—the shooting this past week, etc.] When Rebecca yells "IT'S A DARK WORLD / THEY DON'T WANT US IN IT," I believe her. When she concludes the album with "NOTHING TO LOSE BUT A DESOLATE FUTURE / NOT ONE MORE QUEER IN THE GROUND!!!!", it feels like a rallying cry that I support. But I don't necessarily feel like I have the right to rally around it, if that makes sense. It's either I fully invest in the music or I don't invest at all. There is no middle ground. I usually take the easy way out.

That's not to say I live my life like that, just when it comes to music. In every other decision I make throughout my day, I'm thinking of others. When it comes to choosing music, I can think only of myself. I listen to music that I enjoy and can relate to musically and emotionally. I use music as a means to protect myself and I use music as a balm, and I cannot imagine a scenario in which Free Your Mind! is a means to either of those ends. It instead tears down the wall and it rips open wounds. Mad respect for making music that makes you feel something, but if that something is visceral pain, I'm mainly walking in the opposite direction.

I guess that isn't always true. I don't know. I don't really know what the fuck I'm talking about. This is just what I'm feeling right this second as I type this. Catch me on a better day and I'm likely to just say "hey, it's eleven minutes, and one of those minutes is the insane accelerated ending of 'Getting Fucked,' which is powerful no matter where you stand on hardcore music." I would say something like that, and I would mean it. I could also say something like "Free Your Mind! attempts to find catharsis in that pain," and I'd be forced to reckon with the fact that I'm wrong. Those unnamed crowds cheering as a police station burns to the ground? They are finding catharsis in witnessing a symbol of violence and tyranny be destroyed. I can dig that. The world is rotten and sometimes a controlled burning can create anew. These are things I'd say if I were a better critic and a more informed fan.

Sometimes I mindlessly scroll through random lists on RateYourMusic, where most of the heralded music is, like, doom metal and dark ambiance and shit like that. Rarely anything I would actually enjoy. But it's cool to read lists like that if only to feel the vast infinity that is MUSIC. There is so much out there. 99% of it I will never even hear of, let alone hear. 99.99% of it I would probably like a whole lot less than Free Your Mind! if I did ever actually end up listening to it. And yet it's out there, and that fact makes me feel pretty good. Even if I fall, there is no bottom, and so I'll never hit that bottom and splat. That's weirdly comforting, to be aware of this.

I'm still talking out of my ass, I know. I've listened to Free Your Mind! at least three times in a row while writing this bullshit review. It hasn't gotten better, but it hasn't gotten worse either. It's just white noise, to a certain extent. If you zoom in real close on that bonkers album front cover art, you'll see two people dancing around during Person(a)'s set, proclaiming that "Noise is music!" I don't know if I agree, but shit, man, it also makes me feel good that people can connect to this noise and can appreciate it for what it is, even if I can't, to an extent.

I'm trying real hard. I am. I think maybe this isn't the place to start, if I were to really attempt to start the journey in earnest. As with any genre, if I'm trying to "understand" a class of music that I'm not overly familiar with, then I usually have to start with the classics, and then work my way into the present. I don't have an appreciation for hardcore music, and so when Free Your Mind! sounds like "just another hardcore album," that isn't said lovingly. If I was even remotely familiar with some of the tropes of hardcore, then maybe I'd find joy in their presence here. But to me, again: noise.

Look, it's Thanksgiving weekend. I've already typed enough. I am not too hungover from turkey to realize when enough is enough, when I've gone too long. A better man than I would've first gathered his thoughts, and then presented them in an orderly fashion. A man who is at the tail end of a semester in which he's gotten very little sleep due to familial demands is not a man ready to be orderly in a record review. He is instead a man who hears screaming and in response tries to find any sense of quiet he possibly can, and he does that by typing out his thoughts, as they come to him, about a very loud and noisy album.

I am that man, and I am tired. I think Person(a) is great and I wish them all well, but I think this is probably enough for now. Though I guess we'll see if I have to eat my words next week when we swing wildly in the other musical direction and have to finally tackle T. Swift within the confines of Record Club. Might be wishing I still had some of that screaming left within me.

NOW DOOMSDAY'S AT YOUR DOOR

TIME SLIPPED UP YOUR ASS

GRADE: 2.5 pukes out of 5

Tryptophan III

As was the case for the past couple years, I'm phoning it in today. Thanksgiving is a time for reflection and gratitude. I am thankful for Puke on Your Birthday, and its ability to keep me sane in this insane world. But it's also a time for rest and relaxation and a time for eating too much stuffing and pumpkin pie and, despite the blogging-every-day-mandate, a time for taking a break from blogging. Plus, who the fuck is visiting some asshole's blog on Thanksgiving? You don't need content today. You need to relax and refresh and enjoy as well.

So I'll go really light today. Here's what we'll do. This past Sunday you were asked to begin voting on this year's Record Club holiday album. However, unlike years past, we're voting on classic albums this year instead of new Christmas albums. But I did still make a list of new Christmas albums from 2022 just in case the classic album angle fell through. So let's just go through that list, and embed what I assume is the worst song from each respective album. It'll be a nice way to truly kick off the holiday season. Enjoy...?

Santa Baby by Alicia Keys

A Family Christmas by Andrea Bocelli (and family)

A Very Backstreet Christmas by the Backstreet Boys

Winterlicious by Debbie Gibson

this is our Christmas album by Switchfoot

Christmas Around the World by Pentatonix (ugh)

and finally, A Philly Special Christmas, which might just make its way into the Record Club rotation, depending on whether people want it to on this coming Christmas Day.

Never Seen It, #95 of 200: Lethal Weapon

It's been two and a half years since I started going down the list of 200 movies I've never seen before, and I'm not even halfway done yet. I'm literally getting too old for this shit.

Lethal Weapon

1987

Richard Donner

Dumb. Such a dumb movie. So dumb. Just bad. A very bad movie. I didn't like it. I thought it was dumb and bad and stupid and corny and so very, very dumb. But here's the question I should be asking myself at this point: do I think Lethal Weapon is bad because it's actually bad, or was I simply conditioned to feel this way?

Consider the fact that It's Always Sunny skewered the idea of Lethal Weapon so thoroughly in a handful of episodes, and the fact that I was witness to those parodies before ever watching the original thing. Looking back, everything about those parodies was accurate, from the heightened and also stilted dialogue between Murtaugh and Riggs, to the ridiculous action sequences, to the absolutely atrocious '80s guitar-solo and sax-solo soundtrack. All of these elements were copied wholesale for the parody, and I am familiar with the parody. So when those elements show up in Lethal Weapon itself, my gut reaction is: this seems like a parody. I've been conditioned to feel this way! Probably not Lethal Weapon's fault!

 

Consider also the interview I conducted with Vinny a few years ago regarding his favorite movie, The Last Boy Scout. What I didn't really know then was that The Last Boy Scout was a sort of follow-up to the Lethal Weapon series. Not in plot or characters or anything, but it was absolutely an attempt to cash in on the success of Lethal Weapon. Same writer, same producer, same buddy cop dynamic (cracking jokes while we move through incredible violence). And here's the big thing—The Last Boy Scout was fucking dogshit. It toed the line of so-bad-it's-good, but was mostly just bad. There were aspects to the film I thought were just poorly done. It makes sense that I'm going to come into Lethal Weapon not liking those same things, and it makes sense that Lethal Weapon is indeed going to be comprised of those same elements. So maybe I could've appreciated Lethal Weapon more if I watched it first, I don't know.

None of that's fair to Lethal Weapon, which is what it is and fuck me for not liking it. It's not fair that I'm going into it all grumpy and whatnot. This is perhaps supposed to be a "dumb" movie. Dumb fun is still fun. There are witticisms and big explosions and even a fucking catchphrase! I can see myself being thirteen years old and watching this in a theater and fucking adoring it. But me, now? I'm getting too old for this shit.

There are even some aspects to this film I can appreciate at the end of the day. As loathe as I am to admit it, Mel Gibson gives a great performance here. He's over-the-top, but the part calls for over-the-top. He's bug-eyed and wild and he totally makes the whole suicidal aspect to the character seem real and honest and kinda scary. Gibson is an absolutely atrocious human being who deserves no accolades, but facts are facts here—this absolutely awful piece of shit is a good actor. The world is unfair, and so is everyone in it, myself included.

The plot is riddled with holes and discrepancies, and it often feels like it's trying to be silly and stupid on purpose. I get it. Silly and stupid can move ticket sales, and it obviously did in the late '80s. I just feel like I need more at this point. Especially since, again, this type of film, with this asinine plot, is so ripe for parody. The Sunny gang made the right decision to choose this movie to make fun of through replication (despite the blackface "jokes," which is a different blog post, I think). I don't think the Sunny joke would have been as effective if the show was making fun of a smarter movie. The movie is dumb, the characters in the show are dumb, it totally makes sense that these dummies would love this dumb film, and want to put on a show to honor it. At the end of the day, though, it just proves that Lethal Weapon is dumb.

But I'm dumb too, and this is dumb, and everything is dumb in one way or another, so let's drop the dumb grade and move onto the next dumb movie.

GRADE: 2 pukes out of 5

NEXT TIME: The only thing I know about Little Shop of Horrors is that there is a plant of some sort, and that Pam and Dranders would occasionally sing a song from this musical during karaoke nights. Frank should hopefully be back to chat it up, so that's exciting. See you then.

A Year of Blind Spots: Freak Out!

Ack, I hate the ten-plus-minute noise collage song whenever it pops up on an album. I mean, I should've expected it from Frank Zappa, but still, it's disappointing. Freak Out!, which is rock 'n' roll's very first debut double album, completely falls apart on the second disc, when the eight-minute "Help I'm a Rock / It Can't Happen Hear" fades into the twelve-minute "The Return of the Son of Monster Magnet," and those twenty minutes don't feature a single moment that resembles an actual song. Big bummer to have to sit through ten minutes of Zappa yelling at someone named "Suzy Creamcheese" (even the character name should clue you into how lame this is).

I mean, I don't have to sit through it. If I listened to this album fifteen times this week, then I gave up sometime during those two songs at least ten of those times. I don't begrudge the Mothers of Invention for putting us through it, however. It makes sense, thematically. Here's an entire double album filled with some acid-on-sleeve hippies making fun of the squares by mocking them (the silly doo wop) and busting their balls (calling themselves "hungry freaks" and a whole host of other names to make fun of how afraid the normies are of them). Then, at the end, you really gotta turn the screws. You gotta give them exactly what they are afraid of. Here's some fucking noise. Goddamn hippies!!

So wait, am I a square? I don't know, probably. If being the opposite of a square means passing off some bullshit collage as "music," then yeah, I am a square. But I really do feel like Zappa and co. are better than this. Look to "Go Cry on Somebody Else's Shoulder." Clearly they are making fun of oldies music, but at the same time, they do a really good rendition of oldies music. And they don't even need to be so obtuse about the mocking! The very idea that this is in the style of a love song, but the lyrics are actually telling some broad to fuck off? That's a good enough joke in and of itself.

Like I said, I expected all this. This is my first Mothers of Invention album, and I'm filling a blind spot, but this is not the first time I've heard anything from Frank Zappa. I had some experiences when I was teen, and his solo stuff turned me off hardcore. Weird, lame, sonically has aged terribly. I thought maybe seeing the genesis of the Zappa sound might help me turn a corner. No dice.

We saw the other day that music that is condescending or insincere is not necessarily a bad thing. But if you're gonna mock, then you gotta bring the goods too. The Mothers very rarely bring the goods. A few pretty good songs, a whole lot of filler, and a complete disaster at the back end. I didn't hate this, but I can't say I liked it. Oh god, I would have been insufferable in the '60s.

Song of the Week: "Someday We'll Be Together"

Here are all the songs of the week—HERE.

"Someday We'll Be Together"

Bruce Springsteen

from Only the Strong Survive

2022

In general, I wouldn't say that timing is very important when considering when you should release your album. Doesn't matter the season, just get it out into the world and into my ears as quickly as you can (or as quickly as your label will allow it, I guess). Very rarely am I the type of person who is going to say "this album can only be consumed in the fall" or "this is a total spring album" or "here is a list of songs that feel wintery to me." Sure, there are albums that make me feel that way, but I acknowledge the fact that I do indeed feel that way simply because that's the time of year I first heard that album. The Band's self-titled, for instance, feels like spring to me, but that's only because I received it as a gift one Easter Sunday in my youth. Nothing about the album actually says "spring," and I wouldn't impose that feeling on anyone else.

There are exceptions. I have spoken about these exceptions numerous times in the past (not because this is an important topic, but more because I am an asshole who blogs every day, and I have to write about something). To me, Bruce Springsteen by and large makes SUMMER music. It's been that way since I was sixteen and heard, really heard, "Born to Run" for the first time. "Thunder Road" kicks off an annual summer tradition. "4th of July, Asbury Park (Sandy)" is representative of my once ideal summer experience. And on and on.

Another broader exception to the apathy regarding seasonal music restrictions is Motown soul. The Motown compilation CD I bought when I was a teenager worked so well as "party music" that it became ingrained in that culture, at least the culture I was actively trying to cultivate in my youth as a dumb teen alcoholic who gathered friends in the summer as often as he could. Blasting Martha and the Vandellas, among many other Motown artists, became a habit. Gatherings were elevated to certified PARTIES under the banner of soul music. 

Of course, you can listen to Motown soul in the winter, and you can listen to Bruce Springsteen in the winter, and you'll still enjoy either on a cold day, or any day of the year, really. But I'm arguing that these particular brands of music work best under a summer sun. If you want to maximize your enjoyment of this music, then there's only one time of year you can do it. This is summer music.

So knowing this, it's interesting to me that, when Springsteen had the bright idea to combine the two, it was decided that the album would be released in mid-November. I can close my eyes and vividly hear Diana Ross and the Supremes singing "Someday We'll Be Together" at any number of parents-are-gone-for-the-weekend keggers in the mid-to-late '00s, and I can also hear that rugged, soulful voice of Bruce blasting out of any speaker at those same parties, maybe a little later in the night, or maybe farther east, the air saltier, the voice mixed in with the squawking of seagulls and the crash of the waves. And then so here we are, those two sounds intertwined in one singular sound, Springsteen covering "Someday We'll Be Together," the perfect melding of two perfect sounds, and I'm listening to it with mittens on, my eyes stinging from the cold.

I'm not saying that it can't work in November. It can and it does. I'm just saying that these aren't the ideal circumstances. Had this album dropped at the end of July, right before our annual Wildwood vacation, then we might've just had the week of our lives, musically speaking at least. The soundtrack to the summer would've been enhanced. But instead, someone had the bright idea to release this certifiable summer music in the dead of winter. A mismatch of sound and season if I ever heard one.

Lucky for all of us that Only the Strong Survive will still be around when we get to Memorial Day, and I'll definitely push play again around that time and hear this album in a whole new and more satisfying context. It's just that, here in the week of Thanksgiving, summer seems so goddamn far away. What a tease.

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

RC f/u

Follow-up to: The Rising, Week 90

I don't know how to compare a covers album by Bruce Springsteen from 2022 to a 9/11 album by Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band from twenty years ago. I really liked The Rising. There's something to be said about The Rising being comprised of all original songs, and Only the Strong Survive being comprised of Bruce Springsteen doing some really professional karaoke. But thinking about it that way isn't fair to anyone. The bottom line is that each album is satisfying in its own unique way. Plus, I think there's value in Only the Strong Survive being a good guide for someone like me who is woefully inept when it comes to soul music of the '60s and '70s. There's no way that, e.g., Springsteen's version of "Don't Play That Song" holds a candle to Ben E. King's version, but, like, I've never heard Ben E. King's version, so that's motivation right there for me to dive into King's discography. That's the true value of Only the Strong Survive, I think, even beyond the easy summer themes. So let's give this one a grade and then hibernate for about six months or so.

GRADE: 3 pukes out of 5 (-1.0 from previous review)

Album of the Week: Free Your Mind!

Vote for the annual Record Club holiday album (and take a brief survey if you want)!!

For the fourth year in a row, YOU have a say in what album we do for the week leading up to Christmas. Unlike previous years, you're picking between classic Christmas albums instead of new ones. I dunno, we needed to shake it up a little bit. I didn't want to risk having to listen to Pentatonix or Backstreet Boys. Also, I attached a survey to fill out if you want to help shape Record Club for 2023. But if not, it's all good! At the very least, vote for the albums (up to three)! All are invited to vote, even if you've never participated in Record Club before!

And now, to this week's album. As is also tradition, I take the week of Thanksgiving, since attendance is usually low during a holiday week, which is totally understandable. I just don't want to screw over anyone by making them pick during a week when writing will be at a minimum. And I usually pick something I've already heard at some point in the year, so it's an easy week for me too.

Here's something interesting, though: I reached out to the band and asked some questions, so for the first time in RC history, the band itself has a say in what I write for this Sunday morning blog post. Pretty exciting stuff. Frontwoman Rebecca was really gracious in answering my questions. I'm going to use her words liberally below to fill out some of the sections of this write-up.

As always, you can explore the archives, or check in on how we're doing with the soon-to-be-completed 2022 goals too. But there's a lot going on with RC this week, so let's just get to the album now.

WEEK 199 — November 20-26, 2022

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

ALBUM: Free Your Mind!

ARTIST: Person(a)

Joe: Does the band sometimes go by "PERSONA" or is the circle around the A required? (I actually had to change your name to "PERSONA" on my iPod because the damn thing wouldn't recognize the A-with-circle symbol!) Is it pronounced like the word "persona"? Does the band always spell it with all capital letters or is that a stylistic choice on Bandcamp?

Rebecca: Mad people spell it without the circle A, but personally I prefer folks spell it with one. I usually type it out as Person(a), the all-caps thing is just for bandcamp but idk, there's no rules, idrc too much to tell you the truth. It's pronounced like the word persona (yunno, like the concept in Jungian psychology, the JRPG, or the Bergman movie.)

RELEASED: July 29, 2022

LOCATION: Brooklyn, NY

Joe: Where would you say the band is "from"? I mean, I know it says "NYC" right there in the email address, but I just wanted to make sure, haha.

Rebecca: Four of us live in Brooklyn and one of us in Queens. AJ is from the Phillipines, Sasha is from Virginia, Aida and I are from NY (her from the city and me from the 'burbs) and Kem is from Baltimore and NYC.

WHAT GENRE IS THIS: Hardcore punk

Joe: Among other genres, would you describe yourselves as "queercore" or is that a Bandcamp thing?

Rebecca: I don't consider queercore to be a genre (there is no queercore "sound") as much as I feel it is a signifier of cultural affiliation. We're a hardcore punk band with mostly queer and trans members. We could just as easily reject the queercore label to avoid being pigeonholed, but I consider it to place us in a proud lineage of punks who have been carving out intentional space for ourselves since the early years of the subculture. Embracing this lineage is important to me as someone who grew up inspired by bands like Fifth Column, Huggy Bear, Limp Wrist, and Peeple Watchin, to give a few examples. Some people think it's corny, but I love it lmao. Fun fact, before it was a music genre, "punk" actually used to be a homophobic slur!

WHY JOE PICKED IT: I want to support LGBTQ artists but I needed to prove to myself that not all LGBTQ artists are out there making feckless pop bullshit.

TRACKLIST:

1. Race to the Bottom
2. It's a Death Cult
3. Free Your Mind!
4. One Way Out
5. Pure Evil
6. Getting Fucked
7. Moment of Silence

LENGTH: 11:10

WHERE TO LISTEN FOR FREE: Bandcamp (you can name your price for a download too)

LYRICS: This might be helpful for some (it will be for me), but the lyrics to all the songs are featured on the Bandcamp page, if you click on each individual song.

READING SOME SHIT: Here's the other questions that Rebecca answered for me.

Joe: How long has the band been together? Did y'all all know each other prior to getting together to make music?

Rebecca: We started in the winter of 2020 and had exactly one practice before COVID hit. We've all known each other through the music scene here for a while. I asked everyone to start a band with me because they're all really nice, genuine people. Playing music with mean insecure people sucks.

Joe: How does having some/most/all of Person(a)'s members as part of the LGBTQ community inform the music you create? Would you say that aspect of the band is unique / relatively unique to your "scene" (however you choose to describe that scene)? (My apologies if I have not worded this question correctly, I'm just beginning to explore hardcore / punk music in honest, and so I'm definitely on the outside looking in still, at this point.)

Rebecca: First I would like to dispel of the notion that there is such thing as an LGBTQ community, at best it's a loose network of people. This is language I hear used all the time, and I think it's a misrepresentation of how identity works, and erases a lot of important history, but that's a whole different conversation.

Joe: What is everyone's preferred pronouns?

Rebecca: Aida (bass) — she; AJ (guitar) — he; Kem (guitar) — they; Sasha (drums) — she; Rebecca (vocals) — she.

Joe: What is one thing that you want a bunch of random dorks from the Philadelphia area to know about this album?

Rebecca: The album is born out of a lot of grief, and with the knowledge that we can totally build a way better world if we all work together to dismantle racism and patriarchy. What happened in 2020 can and will happen again. This is the dawning of a new era.

Happy listening, fam! Have a great Thanksgiving week!

The Record Club Final Word: Nate on Mclusky Do Dallas

If you pick an album for Record Club, you will get an "exit survey" on Friday morning, after the reviews have been published. This isn't to add more to your workload; I instead just want to provide space for the album picker to have the final say, if they feel like they need some sort of closure on the week. It's totally and completely optional. For now. Probably gonna make it mandatory in 2023. Not that that means much on a blog. I'm not the fucking police.

~~~~~~~~~~

 1. Was there anyone who convinced you to consider a different opinion regarding the album itself?

There are really only two opinions a person can have about this album, assuming they can get past the angular, screaming punishment of the arrangements. Those are opinions are some version of "hell yes" or "fuck this meanie and fuck you, too." I was certainly pleased to see which side of the line we all fell on (the correct side), but no one really tried to move us off our block. The world loves us and is our bitch.

2. Was there anyone who you felt did a good/bad job at presenting their own views, regardless of whether you agreed with said views?

It's never a straight line with Joe, but the number at the bottom goes a long way to driving home the ultimate feeling, as the number is supposed to do. Dark nights of the soul at the local watering hole, and so on. Sunny, as per the usual, gets to the point while also revealing too much about his own life. Get a system in the whip, Sunny!

3. Were the reviews varied, or did this album elicit same-y opinions? What about that album made that true? Or do you think that this answer is reviewer-dependent and not album-dependent?

I am not going to answer this question and instead I am going to say that none of us did a good enough job talking about the instrumentation of the album; the propulsion of the rhythm section, how the drummer sounds like the angriest metronome on earth, how critical and forward-in-the-mix the bass guitar is on all these songs, how relatively little power-chording the guitar does in favor of creating a secondary melody for the vocals to play off of. I also think none of us talked enough about how fucking great "To Hell With Good Intentions" is, send that song into space on a golden disc. These, of course, are the things you think about when you've been listening to an album for twelve years and you've wrung all you can out of the lyrics.

On second thought, I did a bad job representing my views. Stung by my own venom.

4. Did the variety of reviews justify the album choice? Would you choose a different album (yes/no) based on the reviews received?

I might have selected a more modern album in the "music that hates you genre," maybe the latest Single Mothers or Chat Pile, but no, I am happy with my choice. In my heart of hearts, I wish more folks would have written about how this album sucks / is mean, but the world is not my plaything.

5. What can Record Club do differently to make your RC experience (especially as a weekly captain) a worthwhile one?

Dismantle Ticketmaster / build a better rock venue in Rochester, NY.

6. Any other takeaways you have from this experience?

I'm aching from fucking too much.

Mclusky Do Dallas, Nate

Rock songs don't come much harder than "Lightsaber Cocksucking Blues." Rock lyrics don't come more loaded and electric than "I'm aching from fucking too much." Delivery of lyrics like that don't come more sincerely insincere than they do from the curved, sneering mouth Andy Falkous. Welcome to Mclusky Do Dallas, a stadium rock record that loves the Pixies and hates stadium rock.

20 years past its arrival, there is an instinct, like the one the reviewer takes in The Quietus interview that Joey Blogsalot posted in support of this album, to paint this record as opposition to the more glamours, new-wave inspired UK rock of the early aughts. There's merit to that, since songs like "Collagen Rock," "WhoYouKnow," and "No New Wave No Fun" do feel like direct commentaries on that aesthetics-first dance floor schlock (eternal credit for the lyric "he thinks he's amazing, he's rubbish of course"). It feels, here in the future, less a commentary of the moment and more an extension of the punk experience writ large. This is not a record you need to be versed in the lore of the day to appreciate. You do not need to know who the Fratellis are to like "Alan is a Cowboy Killer."

You might, however, need to be in a band to really connect with the sour fence-peering going on throughout Mclusky Do Dallas. This is a band obsessed with other bands: bands that need to get fucked, bands that got paid, bands that have more songs than a song convention. There's a kind of pissy scene gossip that would get off on this album for its politics. And if that leaves the album somewhat limited in its topical scope (and limits its potential breakout audience to "people who are in bands"), the tradeoff is the snark and vitriol that can only come from an especially clever, especially unafraid person making fun of someone else.

Time is turning away from me again, so let me make this point: Too much music loves you. Too often song writers are trying to speak to you. Too rarely do those with means—and the pen game to back it up—tell you, the listener, to fuck off, loser, and to do so with real umph and meaning. This, ultimately, is the true secret of Mclusky: they are disgusted by everyone, and disgusted by you, too. This, as anyone who has read The Game will tell you, will repulse a good many people, but it will also cast you as someone who does not give a fuck, which can be incredibly sexy and appealing.

As a wrap up, here are the best put-downs on the record, according to me, the guy who listens to this album all the fucking time. What a riot this thing is:

"My band is better than your band, we've got more songs than a song convention"

"All of your friends are cunts / your mother is a ballpoint pen thief"

"If it turns you on you should wash your hands"

"If I had to give you something then I think I'd go to hell, yeah!"

"Bitches got your car"

"Fuck this band because they swear too much / it's an obvious ploy and irresponsible"

"I try to cry but I'm just too tall"