Monday Morning Mixtape 026: This Blog Is a Political Blog

Welcome to Monday Morning Mixtape, a PoYB Contributor-curated playlist of songs, made just for you at the start of each week.

"This Blog Is a Political Blog"

Be a good patriot and give us some songs to celebrate the birthdate of our nation

chosen by Joe

Spotify

YouTube

"Sedona" by Houndmouth

from Little Neon Limelight, 2015

My favorite states are Wisconsin and New Mexico. My favorite cities are Philadelphia (for living) and San Francisco (call me bougie). My favorite day on a bike was on the Loneliest Road in America, 110 miles from Austin to Fallon, Nevada with almost nothing in between. You haven't seen America until you've seen its empty spaces. The meal I miss the most in America is cheesy nachos. The fast-ish food I miss the most in America is Chipotle. The place with the best energy in America is Sedona. The people I miss the most in America are my family. I don't know if I'll ever live there again, but it certainly is tempting.  —Zach

"Parties in the U.S.A." by Jonathan Richman

from I, Jonathan, 1992

One of the best parts about summer growing up was attending the various block parties in different neighborhoods throughout my county. There was at least one every weekend. They all had distinct feels depending on the immigrant population of that area. Whether it was Polish, Lithuanian, Ukrainian, Italian, or Mexican, the food, music, low-stakes gambling, and vibes were always fun. My hometown was populated mainly by Lithuanian immigrants and their descendants. So, as a kid, I'd always relish the opportunity to buy blynai (basically latkes but with the most finely grated potato possible, you hand grate them using a grater that is like a wire lattice) or haluski (fried cabbage with noodles) at these block parties. It was and is great to experience the beautiful mosaic of different cultures that make up America.  —Gloria

"American Weekend" by Waxahatchee
from American Weekend, 2012

I don't know how I got roped into seeing the Rockledge Fourth of July Parade every year for basically the last 20 years. I am officially retracting this blog's 2008 defense of the ritual. "A tradition that brings us all together in peace and harmony on a warm summer day"?! Jesus fucking christ. Now all it is is an extra three hours of worrying that my kids are going to get sunburn and having to avoid eye contact with cops. Have I mentioned how much I hate Rockledge, Pennsylvania? I have?  —Joe


"Wallace" by Drive-by Truckers

from Southern Rock Opera, 2001

Last week, folks talked about the on-the-nose politics of Drive-by Truckers. On contemporary issues, I agree. But for the historical "Southern thang" exploration they undergo thematically on Southern Rock Opera, I appreciate the context. They do the best job that I've seen in threading that needle on explaining, without excusing, the duality of the American South. In my view, they aren't condoning racists like George Wallace, but instead are providing a lens into what made the man tick. It's very heavy-handed, but like an opera, sometimes you have to hit people over the head with your point.  —Sam

"Heritage of Arrogance" by Adeem the Artist
from White Trash Revelry, 2022

"Okay guys, one more thing, this summer when you're being inundated with all this American bicentennial Fourth Of July brouhaha, don't forget what you're celebrating, and that's the fact that a bunch of slave-owning, aristocratic, white males didn't want to pay their taxes."  —Ms. Ginny Stroud, Dazed and Confused, 1993, a quote burned into my brain.  —Joe


"Don't Tell Me How to Live" by Kid Rock ft. Monster Truck

from Bad Reputation, 2022

As a Born & Raised, Pure Blooded, Red White & Blue American, there are two things I love more than anything else: my truck, Israel, and killing small children. I am white, and I like to say things like "but y'know what... I still believe in this country!" Being polite and respectful is more important to me than anything else, you can't talk to me like that, hate has no home here! I do not fear a school shooting because I will NEVER send MckBraeylen anywhere that does not start with SAINT—and we are thinking about pulling them out and moving to Maine for a clam-based curriculum. I voted for Trump twice and Biden twice but what scares me more than anything is footage of 9/11. I just don't understand why everyone can't get along, I don't care if you're black white yellow or PURPLE, Israel has a right to defend itself and jumping the turnstile deserves the death penalty. Please remember to vote! One Love ✌️ —Brian

"If the World Had a Front Porch" by Tracy Lawrence

from I See It Now, 1994

I will say it right now—if this song is chosen as the editor's "best song of the week," I will go streaking outside in broad daylight, so confident am I that there is no chance it will win. And no cheating! You can't pick it just because you want me to embarrass myself. I throw it in as a test, to see what the tolerance level is on the blog for this kind of absurd country music that appeals to wide swaths of people, most of whom are not staff writers at Puke on Your Birthday.  —Zach

"BLOOD IN THE MILK" by Fireworks

from Higher Lonely Power, 2023

The good about RFK Jr.: he's actually a really helpful target to have in political conversation. If you mention trump to maga people, they get all defensive, because they've been brainwashed. There is no cult of RFK. He's just some fucking nutjob. It's a lot easier to talk shit on him in public. His heinous acts are a lot clearer. It's a lot easier to make people feel shame for taking his views seriously. It's a good pressure valve to say, in so many words, yes, you're a fucking moron if you think this brainwormed fuck has any decent views on anything.

The bad about RFK Jr.: he's killing a lot of people.  —Joe


"National Anthem" by Lana Del Rey

from Born to Die, 2012

What's up with this Betty Boop thing? Lana really has the ability to turn a phrase and crank out great pop hooks. But she executes it in this sexed-up way that confuses my puritanical nature. How sexist is my critique here? Does my opinion prove whatever point she is trying to make? Is there a male analogue to her shtick? Would I ask these questions to a dude?  —Sam


"American Woman" by the Guess Who

from American Woman, 1970

One of my favorite stories to tell on the Fourth of July is of the events that took place when I was eighteen years old celebrating this holiday. I went with both of my older sisters to a fairly sketchy bar in Reading to see their friend Henri play the laptop in a band. On our walk there, we passed a patio of people who kept saying, "Fourth of July happy." We didn't realize they were talking to us, and after we passed them completely, they shouted, "Fourth of July happy, assholes!" I still feel bad that they thought I was ignoring them, but that is still my favorite greeting to use on Independence Day with anyone who knows the story.

The bouncer at the door asked for my ID, and I told him I didn't have one on me. He then told me it would be a five-dollar cover charge; I told him I didn't have any cash. He let me in any way—no ID, no cover charge. A great start to the night.

Henri's band was middling at best. Afterward, my oldest sister helped the band pack up their equipment before heading back to his place. My other sister drove separately and stopped to get gas at Turkey Hill. I went inside to buy a Vitamin Water, and soon after I got in there, it got held up at knifepoint. I didn't really know what to do, so I just left with my Vitamin Water. It's probably not the only time I stole anything, but it's undoubtedly the most memorable.  —Gloria

"Fortunate Son" by Creedence Clearwater Revival

from Willy and the Poor Boys, 1969

One of my dad's patients is related to John and Tom Fogerty, and he loves to bring it up. My dad usually plays classic rock in his office, so he tries to make it a point to play a little CCR whenever he comes in, haha. This song is very much an anti-war anthem. John Fogerty is said to have written the lyrics in about 20 minutes in state of rage about the Vietnam War. About the inspiration, he's said, "It made me so angry that the rich old men make the war, and the poor young men have to fight it." Yeah, same.  —Gloria


"When My Time Comes" by Dawes

from North Hills, 2009

Dawes is not a good band. This song, however, is excellent. This song gets me every time. It's certainly a darling of the XPN set, but that's fine sometimes. I used to think of Dawes like the Avett Brothers, but then Seth Avett came out with the album of Elliott Smith covers, and I liked them again. Dawes is way too cheesy for me. They might as well be a one-hit wonder.  —Zach

"Fireworks" by Animal Collective

from Strawberry Jam, 2007

You're fifteen

You're at a friend's graduation party

Most of your friends were seniors this year

Most of your friends will be in college next year

You'll need to make new friends 

At the party you meet one of their cousins from another school

You hit it off, he's a senior and you think he's cool

You leave the party to go watch the Fourth of July fireworks with him

You are in the Walmart parking lot laying on the roof of his car

He tells you that you're not like other girls

You outwardly smile, but inside you are upset

All you've ever wanted was to be like other girls

You wonder if he'll kiss that night

You wonder if you'll see him again

        —Gloria

"Patriot" by Crying
from Beyond the Fleeting Gales, 2016

I have not given up on the American flag. Yes, I'd be more likely to want to burn the thing than prominently display it in my home at this point. Yes, if you have one on your social media profile, there is an 80% chance you are a white supremacist. Yes, I cringe every time I see one on cutoff Ts or pickup trucks. But I think it can be saved. I think we can take it back. First, we need to establish what it means. It's a symbol of how we are one country, together, and we need to look after each other, every neighbor, provide for everyone's basic needs, show kindness toward the less fortunate. Then we just need to use the flag every time that discussion takes place. Take it back from your nazi uncle. It's ours.  —Joe

"America (You're Freaking Me Out)" by the Menzingers
from Hello Exile, 2019

Here's what you need to do: you need to be specific. You need to gather like two or three talking points and really hammer 'em in. Do not relent. Do not go off topic. Know three ultra-specific political subjects extremely well, and do not shut up about them when the general "trump biden harris maga hilary woke" conversation begins. Here is my recent one: Republican state legislators are threatening to not sufficiently fund SEPTA for no reason other than to punish the Philadelphia region for being blue. I was able to navigate a conversation with my maga cop BIL the other day by consistently using the phrase "Republican state legislators." There's just nothing else to say about the subject. There is no upside. No one's life is going to get better by withholding that funding. Even the worst maga among us cannot deny this. It only works if you are specific, if you are relentless, and you don't allow the conversation to get derailed by whataboutisms. Yes, America is freaking us out, but how? Be specific.  —Joe


"Ventura Highway" by America

from Homecoming, 1972

America is sunsets and wide-open boulevards. America is hot dogs and baseball on a summer afternoon. America is state signs and windswept landscapes. America is winding borders and worldwide isolation. America is lightness. America is the Eye of Sauron staring right back at it. America is George W. Bush and high approval ratings on September 12, 2001. America is fireworks on the lakeside pier and crew cuts. America is cruel, too, except for the ones that can escape it.  —Zach

"Fourth of July" by Sufjan Stevens

from Carrie & Lowell, 2015

Sufjan recently indicated that his album Carrie & Lowell, now ten years old, "embarrasses" him. I've never fully bought into the album but I do like the album so I'm in a good position to say that this is okay. Art is a product of the moment. He was grieving the death of his mother, and so he made music. That music is going to feel strange once the grief fades or mutates into something else. That's how it goes, man. It's actually really helpful to hear an artist grappling with his past creations like this. A lot of what I've written five or ten years ago embarrasses the hell out of me. I'm sure most artists feel this way. It's natural to feel this way about anything, honestly. America is almost 250 years old, and I'm embarrassed by it constantly.  —Joe

Only Sufjan has that unique ability to make you cry and feel hopeful at the same time. Nothing says a Fourth of July celebration like the words "we're all gonna die" over and over and over again. There's something about picking a specific day of the year that most people associate with a specific mood and flipping it. Sufjan does it with "Casimir Pulaski Day," and he does it here. The book/movie One Day does it with the obscure holiday of St. Swithin's Day. Next up for an artist that wants to take the bait: Memorial Day, but it's actually about the people America has lost.  —Zach


"Clarity" by Jimmy Eat World

from Clarity, 1999

I stand on the precipice of the summer and a new life. A new job, eventually. A new apartment, hopefully by August 1. But everyone is so flaky when they're looking at places, and everything is so uncertain. A new girlfriend, hopefully. More than that, though, a new friend, one who I get along with well enough that I want to pursue romantic connection. It's the Fourth of July, and the summer is all in front of me in a way it hasn't been since I was eighteen. The Tour de France will start, and I know that when it ends at the end of July, summer will feel like it's already winding down. My biggest fear is that I won't use this unemployed time the way I really want to. That I'll always regret something about it. 

Well, I haven't gotten there yet. My first day of not working 9-5 is next Sunday. This summer I want to kiss strangers, write my novel even if it's total shit (because hopefully the next one will be better), work weird one-off jobs, make smart financial decisions, invest. Be myself. I need a plan. I need a schedule. I can do this, but I can only do it with a piece of paper in front of me and commitment. I have this. I can do this. The more I say it, the more it has to be true.  —Zach

NEXT WEEK: "The Monday Morning Mixtape Road Atlas" — You provide the songs that are about or at least mention a specific street or roadway, and we'll provide the map (chosen by Joe)

Held Accountable — Day 56

I'm having a lot of trouble mentally detaching myself from vacation. I don't know why. I was back at work today, but it still felt off. Not work—same as always—but just, I dunno, life. Improvement seems impossible all of a sudden. I can't shake that feeling.

I'm going to go to the gym tomorrow and I'm gonna shake this shit off. Then I'm going to eat some beans for lunch, and chicken for dinner, and stay loose and agile and feel good about myself and feel readjusted, 24 hours from now.

Album of the Week: Face Value

Record Club alumnus Tyler, the Creator has been right for so long. He was right back in the day, when he dropped IGOR and told his listeners to really concentrate on the art, no distractions. And he was right the other day when he called for a ban on podcasts. Podcasts just loud, dumb people yelling for other dumb people. Yes! It's true! It's artless bullshit. Come listen to some music. The world would be a better place if we were all popping on an album instead of a stupid fucking podcast.

Record Club:

archives | supplemental

spotify playlist | youtube playlist

choose | writing

WEEK 335 — June 29-July 5th, 2025

Face Value

by Phil Collins

LISTEN:

Spotify | YouTube | Bandcamp | Apple

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PICKED BY VOTE

CATEGORY OF VOTING: "Record Club Alumni Doing Something Else (Old Albums)." This is the yang to last week's ying, in which we did not-quite-repeats for artists, but for albums released in 2025. These were pre-2025 albums. Phil Collins won decisively. It is not a repeat of Genesis, since they are different artists. Technically.

LOSING ALBUMS: The Age of the Understatement by the Last Shadow Puppets (fronted by Alex Turner of Arctic Monkeys); Cheat Codes by Danger Mouse and Black Thought (one half of Broken Bells and a member of the Roots, respectively); Fantastic Damage by El-P (one half of Run the Jewels); How Long Do You Think It's Gonna Last? by Big Red Machine (a collective co-fronted by Justin Vernon of Bon Iver and Aaron Dessner of the National); West Cross Timbers by Amanda Shires (a member of the Highwomen)

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ALBUM DETAILS

GENRE: Pop rock, sophisti-pop, progressive pop, adult contemporary, art pop, ambient pop, jazz pop

RELEASED: February 13, 1981

LENGTH: 47:49

TRACKLIST:

1. In the Air Tonight
2. This Must Be Love
3. Behind the Lines
4. The Roof Is Leaking
5. Droned
6. Hand in Hand
7. I Missed Again
8. You Know What I Meant
9. Thunder and Lightning
10. I'm Not Moving
11. If Leaving Me Is Easy
12. Tomorrow Never Knows
13. Over the Rainbow

LYRICS: Genius.com

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ARTIST DETAILS

PRONOUNS: he/him/his

ABOUT: Philip David Charles Collins was born January 30, 1951, in London, England. He started to play drums at the age of five. He also started acting at an early age, becoming a professional actor in his early teens. Eventually, he pivoted back to music, as the drummer of Genesis. That band's frontman Peter Gabriel left the band in 1975, and after a fruitless search for a new vocalist, Collins came out from behind the drumset to fill the role. Phil Collins never left Genesis like Gabriel, but he did concurrently start a solo career, becoming one of the most successful solo musicians of the 1980s. He also played drums in the jazz rock band Brand X during this time. He was the drummer for "Do They Know It's Christmas?" and was the only artist to play at both Live Aid concerts (taking a flight from London to Philly). Our generation might know him well from his songs in the Disney film Tarzan. I lied, he did leave Genesis in 1996, but eventually returned for some reunion tours. He won an Oscar for that Tarzan song, so along with his eight Grammys, he's two-fifths of the way to earning the coveted KEGOT.

DISCOGRAPHY: This is Collins' first of eight solo albums. The most recent is 2010's Going Back. This does not include the twelve (out of fifteen) Genesis albums that include Phil Collins. It also does not include three soundtrack albums that he made (Buster, Tarzan, Brother Bear).

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ADDITIONAL INFO

READING SOME SHIT: a 2025 interview with MOJO

WATCHING SOME SHIT: "In the Air Tonight" live in 1990

RECORD CLUB CONNECTIONS: Clearly the strongest connection, by design, is the fact that Phil Collins was the drummer and most-of-the-time frontman for Genesis. But there are some other connections. "Tomorrow Never Knows" here is our fourth Beatles cover, after Boyz II Men's "Yesterday," Tim Heidecker's "Let It Be," and the Feelies' "Everybody..." As always, we clarify that John Lennon had an additional writing credit in RC ("Imagine" by Corey Feldman) and played guitar on Yoko Ono/Plastic Ono Band. Gloria had "Dorothy's Interlude," which featured a snippet of "Over the Rainbow," and some editions of this album feature an unlisted 30-second cover of the same. Surprisingly few clear-cut classic rock RC connections for Phil Collins (e.g. not a single other RC artist was featured on "Do They Know It's Christmas?" shockingly), but I did see that Tina Turner was a mentor for the charity that he established, Little Dreams Foundation.

MENTIONS ON THE BLOG: Lots of little references to Collins scattered around the blog over the years, mainly as a synonym for "the sound of the '80s." I won't list them all, but Brianna nailed it the closest with the specific reference to Foals' drum sound. Additionally, Melissa, Sunny, and Dwyer all referenced his sound when referring to the War on Drugs. The final Genesis album while Collins was just the drummer was covered in aYoBS. Batts chose a Phil Collins song for MMM, and I liked it so much that No Jacket Required became my first Collins solo album (this will be my second). Adorably, Stephan wrote about hating "Sussudio," and about a year later, Allison wrote about it too, explaining why Stephan hated it. Finally, in RC Week 168, I wrote in the AotW Sunday write-up, "a Phil Collins album would be eligible [for RC]," and 167 weeks later, we finally have one.

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OTHER ALBUMS TO CHECK OUT

LAST WEEK'S ALBUM: For Melancholy Brunettes (& sad women) by Japanese Breakfast, and make sure to check out the reviews if you wanna see what we thought of it!

RC@5: We're relistening to the Record Club album we featured exactly five years ago this week. The RC album for this week in 2020 was diana by Diana Ross.

RC f/u: We're attempting to catch up on all the new albums from our esteemed Record Club alumni. Mini-reviews coming next Saturday, this week for ROMANCE by Fontaines D.C. and Stung! by Pond.

SHADOW RECORD CLUB: Each week, I'm exploring a genre of last week's album by listening to one of that genre's top-rated albums. Last week's For Melancholy Brunettes (& sad women) was a chamber folk album. We're listening this week to Heavy Metal by Cameron Winter.

NEXT WEEK'S RC ALBUM: In case you need some extra time with an album to write a review for it, you can get a head start on Freewave Lucifer f<ck f^ck f>ck by Of Montreal!

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Happy listening, RC family!
Have a great week!

Held Accountable — Day 55

We are home from vacation. I weighed myself. Gained 8 pounds while away. Some of that is water weight. Some was from eating like shit. I'm hoping to get back to where I started in like a week and a half. I'm having patience. I don't feel great about it, and I don't feel great about writing about it, but I'm hopeful. 

A Year of Blind Spots: Living and Dying in ¾ Time

Joe is working through a list of albums that he considers "blind spots," i.e. albums that he's never heard but feels like he should.

Living and Dying in ¾ Time

Jimmy Buffett

1974

It's impossible to bend the rules when there are no rules. Jimmy Buffett felt like a Blind Spot and so I added an album to this list. Jimmy Buffett felt like good vacation music so I added him to the list in such a way that this album would line up with a week of vacation. Jimmy Buffett had some songs that I already knew and was already kinda annoyed by so I made sure to choose an album that didn't feature any of those songs.

Isn't it fascinating, though, that the album I chose was also the most critically acclaimed album? I guess it depends on what we mean by "critically acclaimed." When I use that phrase, I typically mean that it's the highest-rated album, quantitatively speaking, on a website that I usually visit, e.g. RateYourMusic. That probably says more about me than it does about Jimmy Buffett. It says that I gravitate toward spaces on the internet that feature people who listen to music in the same way that I do, and would be annoyed at "Margaritaville" in the same way I am. And, crucially, they would be spaces that are curious to know: is Jimmy Buffet MORE than his biggest hits? Do deeper cuts in the discography justify his inclusion in the canon?

I will also cop to the fact that I really only asked myself these questions when Buffett died. This was September 2023, after Buffett spent (I assume) one last summer playing to aging tanned beachgoers. I attended one of his concerts, back in the day. The focus there was drinking and comradery. The music itself was tertiary at best. I knew like two songs, and was too drunk at the concert itself to really care. I think those songs are corny as fuck. But an artist's death usually brings out a lot of Actuallys, and this was no different. "Actually, there are some worthy tunes in his discography, beyond the Landshark-haze concert bullshit." So I was intrigued. Took me almost two years to finally attempt it, but here I am.

Living and Dying in ¾ Time is pretty good. The most interesting aspect to it—besides the fact that it doesn't feature any songs that I was already familiar with, but I already mentioned that—is that it's basically a country album. If you didn't know anything about Jimmy Buffett, knew nothing of his reputation or his legacy, then you might listen to this album and make comparisons to Willie Nelson. RYM calls it "tropical rock," but only after it calls the album "country rock." You can probably make some sort of equation where you add country roots to yacht rock and get Buffett's tropical rock. 

I wonder if the hits will sound different to me, now that I've explored the deep cuts. Like, will I hear any country rock influence in "Cheeseburger in Paradise" now that I hear country all over these songs? I don't know. It's not like I'm hearing "Fins" or "Volcano" every day. I don't have any motivation to listen to a Buffett Greatest Hits collection. That was the point of the concert, to take the focus away from the musical craft and place the focus on the ingenuity and passion of the audience. Ya know, because the musical craft is lacking a little.

I definitely do not want to sound pessimistic, because this is fun music, regardless of how annoying those hits are. I like this album a lot. I liked listening to "Saxophones" the most. That's the one that really has nothing to do with the hits or tropical rock or country. It's a meta exercise where Buffett questions whether his songs would be better with a saxophone, and then triumphantly ends the song with a saxophone solo. That's some fun shit. "Brand New Country Star" breaks the fourth wall in a similar way, underlining the question of whether this music is country music or not. The sounds of the song answer the question.

This album changes nothing. I still hold the artist at arm's length, due to the culture surrounding the popular songs that I cannot appreciate. This was a worthy exploration though, if only to know that his music isn't all cultural legacy. There are some good songs tucked away in the corner. It's nice listening to them on my own time, in private... and on vacation.

RC@5: Empty Country by Empty Country

Record Club covered this album five years ago. I gave it another listen this week. Here are some thoughts.

Empty Country

Empty Country

Week 73: June 21-27, 2020

Here's to the albums that are covered in Record Club just a little bit after you became familiar with them. I wouldn't choose such an album myself, but I appreciate when the timing works out. Empty Country was released March 2020, and I was on the ground floor, being a big fan of Cymbals Eat Guitars before. And then RC was there almost exactly three months later. So this means that instead of my RC review presenting snap reactions from a week of listening, I was able to use the review to reflect upon an impact over three months' time.

And what a three months it was for this fucking thing. The memory I described in the review really did happen, and I really do remember it clearly, even now, five years later. Martha, a newborn, was in my arms. I was slowly unraveling due to the pandemic. Pam was doing a Zoom happy hour, and it was getting to me for reasons that don't have anything to do with Pam and her friends and everything to do with me being mentally unwell. Martha, as she is still wont to do, refused to sleep, and I was charged with getting her to go to sleep, so I did the rocking thing, full-body style, on my feet, rocking back and forth to the tempo of the music that was pumping into my ears. That music was Empty Country.

It feels so long ago. I wonder if I would've remembered that memory if RC hadn't given me the clear opportunity to document it. Maybe, but maybe not. But I'm thinking about it now, listening to this album again. I'm writing about it, and Martha, now five years old and an incredible kid, has interrupted me from my blogging at least eight times to show me "a new stretching exercise that [she] invented." I'm happy to check it out. We're so far past the night we needed Empty Country, but really not that far past it at all. 

Held Accountable — Day 54

Alright, yo. That's it, for real. I'm tired of writing about bullshit while I spiral. It ends tomorrow. Back on the wagon. Making healthy choices. It was a fine vacation. It's over. The lack of discipline is over. Five weeks, no breaks, and then at the start of the next vacation I'll deal with it again. 

I guess we'll see how bad the fallout is from this one. I'll weigh myself and use that as motivation to keep going. The worse that could happen is I have gained a few pounds and it takes me another week to get back to where I started. 

See you on the other side. 

Discussion — Week 334: For Melancholy Brunettes (& sad women) by Japanese Breakfast

I'll always remember how it was a big news story (relative to the internet circles that I considered myself a part of) that the indie rock band Girls was the top hit when you googled "girls." This was in the very precious few years (maybe even months) before HBO's Girls hit the pop culture zeitgeist (what a great fucking show), but after people started to trend away from trying to search for pornography by just typing "girls" in the search bar. I am sorry to report that I typed in Japanese Breakfast to google images and it was still all actual breakfasts from Japan. You'll get there one day, Japanese Breakfast!! Comment below with your thoughts on the reviews and on your favorite Japanese breakfast foods.

For Melancholy Brunettes (& sad women), Sunny

The four humours, cont.

Sanguine — Inspiring and lively, this color may tack towards intensity, rhythm, and strength in punctuation/percussion. Literal blood optional, but not shied away from. Try: Bully

Choleric — Great in an emergency, this color finds value in production, speed, variety, and color of all types. Emotion burned away the bridle long, long ago. Try: PinkPantheress

Phlegmatic — Diplomatic and accepting, this more cautious color enjoys calm beats, warm melodies, but mixes in with some curious exploration. There's delight in finding the commonalities across wild differences. Try: jaimie branch

Melancholic — Always thoughtful, often logical, this color uses planning and consideration to foster creativity and expression. Nothing wrong with dipping a quill into the internal well. Try:

Japanese Breakfast's 2025 guitar-driven, female-led indie album which delivers on its title's promise. It's gloomy and sad and I can understand maybe a quarter of the lyrics. I've had a great time the dozen or so times through this week. Ironically, the biggest earworms are the bouncier, poppier tunes like "Mega Circuit" and "Picture Window." The heavier stuff leaves an impression too, and the album opens and closes very strongly. There are also real surprise bits sprinkled in between, like that track with Jeff Bridges. Good album, congrats to all moody brunettes.

For Melancholy Brunettes (& sad women), Stephan

It's been a crazy busy week, so I didn't have much time to really sit with and absorb For Melancholy Brunettes (& sad women). Instead, this played in the background of the work chaos. Very little of the album grabbed my attention enough to impart a lasting impression. However, that's not to say that I think it's bad.

On the pro side, while not very powerful or long-ranged, I found Michelle Zauner's vocals to be very soothing and lullabic. The sweetness of her voice, complemented by each tracks' composition, provided a kind of lyrical lo-fi vibe that was different than the indie experience I was expecting, but welcome and very much needed in the moment.

On the con side, there were two things I did not like. First, it's kind of boring and monotonous. Most of the songs sounded and felt indistinguishable from one another. Two, though more like 1b, is Jeff Bridges. The only real deviation from the aforementioned sameness in the form of a duet pulled my attention for the wrong reasons. Though I didn't initially know it was Jeff Bridges, the male harmony out of nowhere in "Men in Bars" was very surprising, almost jarring.  He's not a terrible vocalist, but I don't think he and Michelle blended well at all. Sadly, it's the only song that managed to stick with me.

My biggest takeaway from this experience was that sometimes music might not give you want, but give what you need. I wanted a more meaningful musical experience, but I desperately needed something to help center me. Jeff Bridges aside, this album allowed me to do just that. 

2.75 out of 5 men in bars

For Melancholy Brunettes (& sad women), Gloria

Good timing on this album, as I started reading Crying in H Mart last week. Or was finally checking this out from the library, subconsciously influenced by the summer album list? We'll never know. 

This is a beautiful, brooding, and cohesive album. It's different from the earlier pop sounds of Japanese Breakfast. But what really stood out to me was the use of mythology to reinforce themes of femininity, transformation, and grief. In "Orlando in Love," we see the obvious reference to Boiardo's Orlando Innamorato, where Orlando is smitten by Angelica to the point that his love for her overwhelms his sound reasoning and sense of duty as a knight. It's a story where Orlando wrestles with themes of desire and destiny as he navigates a magical journey full of side quests. When I think of Venus, as referenced in this song, I think about how she is born from sea foam and embodies the female archetype of yearning and femininity. Transformation comes from the powerful and creative nature of the sea in her origin story. After the titan Cronus castrates Uranus, he throws his genitals into the sea, which fertilizes it and forms a foam, and from that foam comes Aphrodite (Venus). Her beauty and softness come from pain and chaos.

When we hear "Leda," we can think of the time when Zeus transformed into a swan form and acted distressed to gain the sympathy of Leda, the Queen of Sparta. She acted to protect him before he overpowered and raped her. She later gave birth to two eggs from which we get Helen of Troy (yes, the cause of the Trojan War), Clytemnestra (Agamemnon's wife, the king who leads the Greeks in the Trojan War), Castor, and Pollux (think Jason and the Argonauts. As an aside, is this movie on the Film Club list? I loved this growing up, and I am trying not to get sucked into watching it now, haha). Leda's children are a mix of the divine and human, resulting from the combination of her genes, her husband King Tyndareus's, and Zeus's. As we enter the summer months, I often think about this myth, as Cygnus, or the Swan, is easily visible in the night sky. Look for it tonight; it's a big cross that overlays the Milky Way. 

Pivoting from mythology, I'd love to call out the lines from "Honey Water," "The lure of honey water draws you from my arms." The whole song feels like losing control of a relationship, especially the long, repetitive outro. I love how it feels like it's actively coming undone.

In Crying in H Mart, Michelle Zauner talks about how she always had the tendency to assume the worst, and was intensely paranoid during her childhood, often fearing that her parents were dead when they weren't home. Our attachment figures may change from parents to partners as we age, but that anxious attachment style can remain the same. "Picture Window" feels like she still has that same feeling of paranoia, but this time with a romantic partner. "Do you not conceive of my death at every minute? / While your life passes you by?... All of my ghosts are real / all of my ghosts are my home."

These references and lyrics reinforce the album's themes of emotional disarray and how love can be both beautiful and ruinous. Gorgeous.

For Melancholy Brunettes (& sad women), Brianna

For quite some time now, I have felt that I was destined to become a fan of Japanese Breakfast. They're a local band that is always selling out multi-night runs at some of my favorite venues. A friend's brother is their tour manager! I've heard stories about this act for ages, but actually give them a listen? No, Japanese Breakfast has been cursed with a spot on The List. You know the one.

"Have you heard that new Japanese Breakfast album? It's really good, you'd love it."

"Awesome, always looking for new music. I'll add it to my List!"

Finally, PoYB offered the opportunity to some RC writing this summer and, lo and behold, an opportunity to finally cross one off The List came to be. The question then became: is today the day I fulfill my destiny? The answer is not so simple, so let's dive in.

I'll start by saying that I have technically given JB a shot or two in the past, but never really walked away with any significant feeling or thought about them. Good, but nothing that stayed with me. And in the infinite space that is music streaming these days, if it doesn't make me feel anything, then I typically forget about it and move on. But maybe this isn't the best approach for all bands. What I realized after my multiple listens of For Melancholy Brunettes is that Japanese Breakfast is best when sat with for a while.

On the first listen, I found myself a little bored. The album is full of ballad-like energy. Slow paces, meaningful lyrics, but nothing musically that offers a big punch. It wasn't until my first listen to "Men in Bars" that I actually started to pay attention. There I was, working on my traditional heat wave jigsaw puzzle, when a hauntingly familiar male voice emerged in the sounds. After a quick Spotify check, I was immediately more intrigued in the album than I had been up to that point. Jeff Bridges? Ranked in my top three favorite actors of all time, that Jeff Bridges? Okay, Michelle, you got me.

Over the next week or so, I listened to the album about four or five more times, paying much more attention now that the intrigue was there. While I wouldn't necessarily say it's a new favorite, there are certainly some strong moments in there. I find that central part of the album from "Mega Circuit" to "Men in Bars" to be particularly beautiful and catchy in ways that I wouldn't have thought I would during my first listen. "Little Girl" specifically has been stuck in my head for days now despite finding it incredibly sad.

What didn't really work for me was the instrumentals. When I think about this album now in the reflection phase, I think about the lyrics and the emotions those words and how the way they are sung made me feel. Which is powerful! But it's also not what I tend to look to when putting on an album. I want the top tappers, the finger drums, I want to feel the rhythm too, not just the emotion. For that, I found the front and back ends of the album quite forgettable.

At the end of things, I'd probably rate this album a solid 3 out of 5. Will I be returning to it throughout the summer? Probably not. However! It has certainly gotten my attention in a way that Japanese Breakfast had failed to in the past. They may have officially made their way off the dreaded List and onto the Spotify queue. And for that, I thank you, Record Club!

For Melancholy Brunettes (& sad women), Sam

Acceptance. That's where I'm at with this new Japanese Breakfast album. I've listened to it about five times now (helpful due to its brevity), and it washes over me every time. Nothing really stands out, until Jeff Bridges jarringly begins to sing.

There's nothing bad going on here. Just nothing particularly noteworthy. The slow, melodic sounds that usher you in blend track to track into a comforting yet bland blanket. If this were a new artist to me, I'd politely nod along and ignore the band going forward.

But we all have such a history with JB. When I was volunTOLD to write a review this summer, I chose this one, because I genuinely want to keep up with Michelle Zauner's art. I've been a big fan of her prior albums and book; I met this with such anticipation. Though I'm not mad, I am a little disappointed.

Again, not bad here. Just a bit more shoegaze than I like. I googled what genre JB is classified and got this "experimental pop, lo-fi, dream." That's what this album sounds like, but I'd argue the prior albums were more rocking, contained linear stories, and generally engaged me better. They were more fun!

That's a problem I have with many artists I like. All I want for them to do is create more of the same. No pushing boundaries or slightly varying the sound. Give me the 2025 version of Psychopomp and call it a day. But that narrow view forecloses growth and their continued life experience impacting the art they are making now. To Zauner: It's not you, it's me.

---

A short postscript about gossip (but not really b/c there's no gotcha here)...

Suddenly, I am worried that Zauner is experiencing heartache. Did she and her bassist/guitar player husband Peter get divorced? Their story in Crying in H Mart was simple and lovely. (googling album's inspiration) ... OK, Peter is not playing guitar on the record, but the title is a tongue-in-cheek reference to a John Cheever short story collection ..... OK, he's touring on the album. Sometimes just the two of them acoustically. I guess all is well, but maybe he's not a great session musician?

For Melancholy Brunettes (& sad women), Zach

Should people who are not melancholy brunettes or sad women be allowed to listen to this album, be permitted to enjoy it? The title expressly says it's not for them. 

I was listening to an interview with ANOHNI on Song Exploder about her song "4 Degrees." In it, she sings about wanting creatures to die a painful death as a result of global warming. "All those rhinos and all those big mammals / I wanna see them lying, crying in the fields" is one such lyric. In the interview, she talked about that. How, even though she despises Donald Trump and the way his policies directly lead to things like global warming, she feels she plays a part in contributing to global warming every time she takes a flight to play a concert or eats a fast meal prepared with the help of greenhouse gases. It's as if, she says, she is asking to see the animals suffer, because she is contributing directly to their demise. How, even though it's "excruciating," she sees a part of herself in Donald Trump.

That is so relatable. We all have the ugly parts of ourselves that we wish weren't there. Maturity is admitting they are there anyway, and figuring out how to make sense of ourselves or of the world anyways. We also have the positive parts of ourselves that we bury deep down but wish we could bring out more. The part of us that dances uncontrollably when we are alone but stops the second another person walks in the room. It's too dangerous to show our full selves. We don't want to lose control.

I'm going to posit that in order to listen to this album we all need to tap into the part of ourselves that is a melancholy brunette, a sad woman. We all have it. It's there. Just like all biologically born men have the woman in them, and vice versa.

And how did I do?

I've often felt that I'm more attracted to female-focused content. I listen to podcasts and follow social media accounts mostly meant for women. It's not 100 percent true, but it feels that way. It's easier for me to tap into my sad woman side than it is for me to tap into the side of me that resembles a WWE wrestler. 

All that is to say that I connected to this album. If I had been able to listen to it twelve, thirteen, twenty times, I am sure it would have been easier for me to dig deeper and touch that part of myself, to touch it in a way that brought about new understandings of myself. But I couldn't go there. All in time.

For Melancholy Brunettes (& sad women), Dillon

So I knew Japanese Breakfast's last album, Jubilee, for its few most popular songs. And I thought, "hey, if I liked a few songs from that album, I bet I'll have a good time with this one." That is not what happened. 

I really do think it was mostly me. As in, mostly me projecting my week onto the album, because I couldn't actually meet the music somewhere between it and me. This is not the type of record that I can listen to when I'm hot and tired and unable why the fuck is Jeff Bridges. 

So that's how it went. The structure of each song made me feel like there was little movement happening, even though the instrumentation was beautiful. Michelle Zauner's voice, as unique and compelling as it felt on Jubilee, whispered me into a state of dull attention. The dull attention made it hard for me to care that there was what seemed like a lot of storytelling going on. I waited for a way out of the dreamy, flat song and on came another. And then, when I was sitting down and listening to the last song and finally stopped wrestling with myself, I thought "maybe I do like this."

I think I'll give it another try, when it's cold and I'm not in a rush, and I can be the melancholy brunette this record was meant to reach.

For Melancholy Brunettes (& sad women), Maeve

Wow, can we believe that as both a melancholy brunette AND sad woman that I love this album?? I know, I'm shocked as well. I love the title and I love the cover art. This whole album is light and airy, making me wish I was in an ethereal gown, playing along on harpsichord while I lay in a giant bed with the fluffiest bedding. 

"Picture Window" is the most upbeat of the songs, yet even as Michelle sings, "all of my ghosts are real," it still feels breathy and beautiful. I've never seen the movie Crazy Heart, so I had no real context for Jeff Bridges singing, but he sounds exactly how you'd think—great! Apparently he's released a successful album? Who knew, not looking too much into it. Clocking in at 32 minutes, I was able to put this album over the speakers at the gallery and listen to it for Joe's preferred number of times to appropriately review (twelve). 

4/5 cries

For Melancholy Brunettes (& sad women), Joe

This is Joe K***, roving reporter for the newest addition of the McD***** Family Newsletter, Vol. XL, Issue 14. I am reporting from a rental home in Selbeyville, DE. My assignment was to tell you about Japanese Breakfast's new album. I am not currently listening to the album. I usually do when I'm typing these reports, but I'm not this time. The sounds that I am currently hearing are two different TVs, overlapping in sound significantly, as one is in the living room and one is in the upstairs loft, and the TV on the upstairs loft has its sound source facing over the balcony into the living room. It's pretty disorienting. The upstairs TV features what sounds to me like Steve Zahn, but is actually some younger, wide-mouthed, broccoli-haired motherfucker who is telling my daughters and niece about, I dunno, building a roller coaster in his backyard or some shit. This is absolutely the bullshit that wouldn't fly if we were at home, but I have less control of the TV when we're on vacation. I'm a strict dad but have less agency to be a strict uncle, if that makes sense.

The living room TV, of course, featured A Minecraft Movie.

I can report that, before we left, Pam said something to me to the effect of "You don't have any albums you have to listen to this week, do you?" She asked it because she wanted to make sure we were going to be listening to calming, faux-French croissants-and-accordions music during breakfast and not whatever fifth-wave emo bullshit that I usually play at a reasonable volume in our kitchen at home. Still a pretty crazy question. Um, of fucking course I have fucking albums I have to fucking listen to? Have you visited the blog lately, dear love of my life?!

It worked out pretty well that the RC album scheduled for this vacation week was an album that I was already familiar with (jk totes did this on purpose). J-Brekkie is my girl. I love this shit. It's not even just "have to listen to it," it's "very much want to listen to it." And I don't think it's a tall order to want to listen to these particular sounds in a small-group familial setting. This isn't fucking Mindfuck Ultra. It's pleasant. It's catchy. It's calm. It has Jeff Bridges.

But that's all hypothetical. I pretty rarely choose the music when we're on a family vacation. It's not that other people are choosing other music that competes with mine. It's more that I am constantly faced with the reality that I am a fucking freak because I need to listen to music all the time, and no one else seems to be that way. And I'm usually at home living with four people who more or less put up with the way that I am, and the harsh reality only seems harsh when I'm living with ten other people and some are less willing to put up with me than others. 

It's not even that anyone is like "oh yuk, what is this music?" or "why the fuck are we listening to Jeff Bridges?" or anything like that. It's actually like: [nothing]. No reaction. Music might as well be the fucking beach-themed wallpaper. I'd rather someone feel something about this shit, then to feel so much and to be met with so little. It's weeks like this that make me appreciate what it is we are trying to do with Record Club—I'm trying to game the system, trying to surround myself (digitally) with people who actually act like they care, trying to not feel so alone in this world.

I wonder if I'm feeling a little low because For Melancholy Brunettes (& sad women) is designed to make you a little sad. It's right there in the title, and I am a brunette. "Can you see a life where we leave this behind?" That's the money line in the opening song, "Here Is Someone." A lot of the reviews I saw back in the spring quoted it, but most saw the context as "Michelle Zauner is a best-selling author now, she is contemplating 'leaving this behind' because maybe she doesn't need Japanese Breakfast anymore." That's a limiting perspective. To me, it feels bigger than that. She's contemplating the idea of the escape. How sometimes this life is too much, how maybe it would just be easier if you ran away, and how, ultimately, it's a pipe dream, you'll never actually leave, but the hypothetical prospect of it can still bring some comfort even if it never actually comes true.

I was chilling Tuesday morning with my father-in-law. "With" more like "sitting at the same dining room table on our respective laptops, occasionally making small talk." Something he told me while we were sitting there was that Mick Ralph died. I didn't know who that was, so I googled it, and found out that his name is actually Mick Ralphs, with an S at the end, and that he was a member of Bad Company and Mott the Hoople. I said I liked Mott the Hoople but was never a fan of Bad Company. The response was "well they were before your time." We've been over this countless times. That is not how I operate. There is no "before my time." Music exists as a living document and I try to explore and get to know as much as I can, the year it was released being the least important thing about it. I dislike "Bad Company" and I would've disliked Bad Company if it had come out in 1984, 2004, or 2024. I said something to this effect. I also said that there was a whole class of B-level classic rock that I've always felt an aversion to. I named Kansas and Styx as other examples. I could have kept going, but my father-in-law was back into his laptop, tracking his fantasy baseball league stats, and I receive no response to any of my musings about music.

But maybe he's onto something. He doesn't know me at all, knows nothing about how I operate as a human being, but maybe his original statement accidentally contained a nugget of hitherto unexamined truth. Maybe it's not that there might be a band that is "before my time," because there isn't. Maybe it's that there are certain artists who are definitively "of my time." Of my time, space, preference, personality, emotion, mindset, all of the above. That there's value in some music feeling like it's mine, all mine. I can listen to Bad Company and maybe even learn to love it, but Mick Ralphs is dead and I'll never make Bad Company mine. That opportunity is out of reach. But it's not with Japanese Breakfast. I've been here from the beginning. I've grown with this artist. I understand the language. I feel at peace when I hear this album.

I don't think that this is J-Brekkie's best album, but I think there are so many little moments scattered throughout that feel utterly sublime and touching in a deep and almost unknowable way that I can say that it's a clear success. The songs that don't have such a moment aren't bad, they are just forgettable. Think "Leda" or "Magic Mountain." The songs that feature such a moment aren't even necessarily perfect songs, but the small moments that stand out have been stuck in my head for seemingly a lifetime at this point, and aren't leaving anytime soon. Think the tossed-off "...isolation" in "Little Girl." Think the rising action of "all of my ghosts" in "Picture Window." Think the way that Zauner stretches out "California days" on "Winter in LA." Think the strings and flutes on "Here Is Someone." Think of the entirety of "Men in Bars."

This week has convinced me that "Men in Bars" is the song of the year so far, or at the very least the song of my summer. I don't know what it is about it. The notes and chords and lyrics and inflections, everything about it, it's all sunk deeply into my soul at this point. I almost wish Bridges wasn't the guy singing on it, because his celebrity is distracting, but I cannot deny that he matches Zauner in terms of wringing pathos out of his words. I still don't really know what they are talking about, and when I hear it in my head, I just kind of make up words. I'd look up the lyrics if I needed to, but I don't. It's on a different level than that for me.

Alright, alright... I should look it up. If I'm making a big deal about how I feel like no one on family vacation gives a shit about this kind of thing, then I should push against it and actually do the work. Plus, I don't want two weeks in a row of my RC review being like "this is how I feel and I don't know why, lol!"

Why does "Men in Bars" touch me so? The lyrics are a bit obtuse, but if I'm projecting, then theory #1 probably has to do with the idea of building the persona of a Man in a Bar in a previous life and "when it breaks apart" speaking to my personal experience. The sadness is welling up from within, and I can feel it even if I couldn't name it. Theory #2 it's about love gone wrong, and while the topic is cliché and not necessarily personally relatable at this juncture, it's just that J-Brekkie is just so fucking good at her craft, and she makes an otherwise rote subject fucking sing. The final theory, #3, is that it's hitting good because I recognized it, even if I didn't realize that I recognized it. Zauner did a quick one-off side project with the dude from Crying during the pandemic, and the final song on pop songs 2020 EP is called "Ballad 0," and it's a primitive, non-duet version of this song. 

I think when I say that an artist is "of my time," that this is what I'm talking about. That there are certain artists who are releasing music currently that somehow have this way of speaking to me and touching me somewhere very deep. Japanese Breakfast is one of them. I don't think I can explain it to anyone. I get the sense that Zauner doesn't even realize she's doing it (her own explanation of what "Men in Bars" is about is extremely surface-level). I certainly can't explain it sitting at this dining room table in this vacation rental home. The most I can say to anyone here is "these are sounds and they are arranged in a particular way and when they are arranged in this way we call it music." Anything beyond that and I might as well be speaking in tongues.

This is probably why I get so annoyed when any (or, more likely, all) of the five kids in this house currently completely ignore me when I give direction and attempt to make sure that they are safe, e.g. don't go near the bay with your scooter and throw heavy rocks in it because you might fall in?! You ever talk to someone and you can tell they aren't listening, and worse, they don't care enough about you to give a shit to even pretend? I'm not saying that's what the kids are doing. They are just being kids, testing limits. But I'm telling you that I in general have a rough time with not being heard. I spend so much of my goddamn time listening. I sit here and I listen to all kinds of bullshit. And I listen to the good stuff too. The art. Something like For Melancholy Brunettes (& sad women). I listen to it deeply and carefully. I am fully entranced. How do I get to be like that for other people? Maybe it'll never happen.

Or maybe it's happening now, if you are reading this news update for the McD***** Family Newsletter, Vol. XL, Issue 14. Thanks for listening to me. Hear me when I tell you that this is a good album.

GRADE: 4 pukes out of 5

Held Accountable — Day 53

Rough day emotionally. It's interesting to attempt to disentangle negative feelings regarding [other stuff] from negative feelings regarding poor diet. Maybe they are intertwined too tightly. Maybe I would be feeling a little better right now if I had eaten two and a half well-balanced meals. I feel stronger when I'm not stuffed full. I feel weak right now.

I did have an adequate workout at the gym in this development we're staying at. It was a little smaller than Crunch and very crowded, but I flexed some muscles, which made me feel good. I felt like I did SOMETHING and not NOTHING. So that helps.

But man, I feel like shit right now. I think it's just easier to blame it on the poor diet, so let's just do that and move on to tomorrow.

Never Seen It #227: Magic Mike

You are the husband they never had! You are that dreamboat guy that never came along! You are the blogger watching 400 movies you've never seen before!

Magic Mike

2012

Steven Soderbergh

Zoom: June 24, 2025, 9 PM to 10 PM

Participants: Allison, Brianna, Gloria, Joe, Kait, Sean E., Sunny, Walter

I did an awful job at taking notes during our discussion. But every once in a while I remembered to write something down. Then I fell asleep, so I probably forgot some points of our conversation. Drop a comment if I missed something, or if you have anything else to add!

• Phrase of the night was "hustler culture." More or less defined as needing to work hard on multiple jobs to make a living. Working hard as a way to achieve the American Dream. And maybe this film exposing the fact that the American Dream is unobtainable within this framework.
• Discussion about the difference between male strip clubs and female strip clubs, how the latter is more "pornographic" and the former tends to be more of a cabaret-style show.
• Was their chemistry between Mike and Brooke? Is Cody Horn a good actor, or a product of nepotism?
• What if the lack of chemistry was on purpose? That Magic Mike felt like himself onstage and lost that "magic" offstage and so the lack of magic in his romantic relationship was indicative of his confusion in life?
• Good discussion about the tragic nature of being good at something that doesn't give you fulfillment. Important counterpoint being that maybe you can give TOO MUCH of yourself in your art and that can wear you down.
• Channing Tatum was in Ricky Martin's "She Bangs."
• A top google result is "am I gay if i watch magic mike." This movie performed better in red states than blue. Most importantly, this movie was a minor "cultural phenomenon" in that groups of (straight) women made it a point to go to the theater to see this movie.
• Was the Kid's acting bad? Why was he nineteen? Did the actor look nineteen??
• Was Riley Keough's Nora a figment of the Kid's imagination? (Also: my in-laws think that Elvis Presley is a non-fictional person.)
• The ending was open-ended. Was that frustrating, or poignant, or neither?

I started the conversation by asking: what do you want to talk about in a typical Film Club discussion? Magic Mike felt like a good movie to ask that question of, because you could go in two different directions with it. First, what happened, and what do we like and dislike about what happened? Second, what did it mean, and what does what it mean mean to you? I think we covered both pretty well in our hourlong conversation, and I was happy about that. But I'm down to talk about whatever. Like if either side of the discussion feels more meaningful, we can lean into it.

Something I haven't asked during the Zoom meetings, and probably won't because it's not riveting discussion, but still important probably, is: what would you grade this film? That seems like something for the comment section. I'd give it a 3.5 pukes out of 5. The craft was great, the stakes were hit-or-miss. It was refreshing to just have a movie like this hang out with the characters instead of manufacture drama, but maybe that means there wasn't as much to hang onto as their might be other, deeper films. I really enjoyed it though.

Thanks for hanging out on a Tuesday night. See you in the comments.

(NEXT TIME: Finding a way to speak your truth again through the art, but this time with a piano in The Piano.)

Golf — Basketball — Coronavirus — Books About Crime — 6/26/25

by Nate

Nate told a friend—partially in jest at the time but as he reflects on it there’s a lot more truth to it than he first thought—that these four topics are the only things he reads about online. This friend told him that, surely, there must be a website that speaks to these niche issues at the same time. WELL THERE IS NOW, BABY.

GOLF

It would be perverse to talk about golf at a time like this. By the time you read this, you'll either be on the other side of, or squirming out of the weakened teeth of, a massive heat wave that pushed temperatures up to triple digits almost everywhere in the country. I hope you made it. Only those who need to be outside are right now. They are waiting for the bus in shadeless tops as the sun pushes down on them. They are cleaning up parks for paychecks as the sun pushes down on them. They are seeking comfort in the shade waiting for splash pads to open while the sun pushes down on them. J.J. Spaun won the U.S. open. He probably took a private jet to and from Pittsburgh, PA, to do it. He's probably take a private jet to Detroit for the Rocket Mortgage this weekend. There's an extreme heat warning there now. It's usually in the low '80s there this time of year. Mama here comes midnight with the dead moon in its jaws. 

BASKETBALL

No such thing as a big star about to fall. Sometimes they do, history tells us they do, at least for some people at some places some of the time. For them in those places, it all ends in an instant. For the rest of the world, the lucky ones, we watch, we shake our heads, we move on. It must have always been that way, but I can only speak to how it is now, and that is how it is. To be so small and to be so aware of everything is to be regularly confronted with one's own impetus, a cuckolding signed up for and regretted, every hour of the day thanks to a tiny phone in my pocket that tells me every awful thing but provides no way to stop it. Tied to chair watching snuff film I paid for, beholding a great red dragon every day, thankful for the chance to do so. I would have liked to believe that the Pacers could do it, even after Tyrese Halliburton blew out his ankle in what is retrospectively becoming the most likely and obvious scenario to playing with his particular injury. That the collective grit and effort of the team's second and fourth options, plus the white-hot effort and racial discomfort of T.J. McConnell, would be enough to beat back the Thunder. Alas, it was not, and game seven look a lot like many Thunder games; they fucked around for the first half, turned on the jets in the third period, and never looked back. Good on them and their championship, they earned it. Good on the Pacers, who will be gone but not forever. 

CORONAVIRUS

Here's some investment advice: bet on the cavity boom.

BOOKS ABOUT CRIME

I had sworn I would never try to write another novel, but after reading Two Little Girls in Blue by Mary Higgins Clark, I am prepared to walk that promise back. Clearly, anyone can do it. 

Straight up, this book sucked. Satanic panic about child abduction and identical twin telepathy stretched out about 120 pages longer than the story required, this book should have gone down like seltzer and it went down like salt water. This is sub Koonz, basement-level Grisham, in the Iris Johansen zone. Boring, melodramatic dreck, so bad that it should inspire a generation of would-be hacks to at least take a swing, because anyone can do this and get lucky with the formula. There's no end to the sands I've been trying to cross.

INDIE ROCK

Listen.

Held Accountable — Day 52

Writing these Accountability posts this week has felt pointless and honestly fucking embarrassing. I'm not holding myself accountable? Just filling space with words is not making me healthier. Not on vacation.

Consider it a holdover. I don't want to have to start over. Let's see, today is day 52. So day 55 is going to have a detailed plan about what I did and want to do as I'm starting over. No idea what days 53 and 54 are going to entail. Maybe I'll tell you about my ankle pains again, that seems to be moving a lot of units off the shelves.

I actually didn't feel bad today, physically speaking. Some aches and pains but not overwhelming. Gotta hit the gym tomorrow morning to keep limber.

Please don't read these. It's so fucking embarrassing at this point. Check out the song and move along. I will too.

Family Roadtrip Playlist, Summer 2025

the K***s, listening to "Shake It Off" for the 4674th time

Past documentation of this annual family tradition indicates that this is the fourth annual K*** Family Vacation Playlist. It's hard to imagine a two-year-old Martha choosing seven songs, but I guess that's what happened. And maybe it's not that hard to imagine, since two-year-old Sophie is chipping in her fair share of songs for the 2025 edition.

Here's how it works: every member of the family (including the youngest this year, but not including the cat, who is chilling back at the house with regular visits from Aunt Dee Dee) chooses seven songs. It doesn't matter the order that they're placed on the list (and no repeats, obviously), because once we hit the highway on the journey to whatever destination my in-laws' rented a house at for the week, Pam hits shuffle. 

Then, for the purposes of this blog (mostly myself, I cannot imagine anyone else gives a shit about this, including my wife and children), I note the songs and the order in which they appear, and use a few minutes here and there throughout vacation to write some blurbs for each song. This is what you'll see below. Enjoy.

Family Road Trip Playlist, Summer 2025

1. "Flowers" by Miley Cyrus — Willow's pick — It's tough to remember year to year what actually happens, but it feels like Willow's songs get backloaded every year? I might be misremembering. She's definitely the most likely to fall asleep at some point during the playlist's run, so it's good she got the first song on the shuffle.

2. "Little Chaos" by Orla Gartland — Mommy's(??) pick — Look... Pam's driving during all this. I hate driving, she's hates when I drive, I'm already doing enough designated driving on evenings when that's necessary, she is more prone to get carsick from the passenger seat than the driver's seat. I don't need to drive to the family vacation. I appreciate this choice, though. I really do hate driving. So in this light, I'm not gonna call any fouls. I'm not ungrateful for everything else. I'm not gonna call anyone for choosing eight songs instead of their allotted seven. It's not that big of a deal. She also said "this isn't my pick, this was Martha's pick," even though Martha already had seven picks. I don't care. It's all good. Give us the most generic XPN-heavy song of all time. I'll take it. We're on vacation. I'm chill.

3. "Not Strong Enough" by boygenius — Mommy's pick — I wish there was an easy way to figure out how many times any particular artist was featured on this blog. I imagine that boygenius has gotta be up there. At the very least, the most recent artist (from the last three years) to be in contention. These are my thoughts as we drive in the car and I hear boygenius yes again.

4. "Bluey Theme Tune (Extended Version)" by Jeff Bosh — Sophie's pick — It says Sophie's pick, but c'mon, we were influencing her picks. She can't name anything off the top of her head, let alone seven songs. It's more like: "Sophie, you like Bluey, right? Should I put a Bluey song on here? Yeah?" She recognizes the songs. She knows them, I'm not making that up. But I'm the one who's literally going onto Pam's phone and clicking "select" for the songs. And I will tell you here that I picked the wrong Bluey theme variation for this playlist. I meant to pick the "instrument parade." Oh well!!!!!

5. "Let It Go" by Elsa (voiced by Idina Menzel) — Sophie's pick — Pam said this, and I agree: it's gonna be a really sad day when "Let It Go" doesn't make the family vacation playlist. This song has been with us like the monster in It Follows, but it's gonna feel lonely when it's finally gone.

6. "Shake It Off" by Taylor Swift — Willow's pick — The same is NOT true for this song. I'll sleep very soundly at night when I never have to hear Taylor's cringey attempts at rap ever again. She has a lot of good songs. Many of those songs have verses and choruses and bridges that are fantastic. The bridge on this song is not one of them. It's the worst 45 seconds that's ever been committed to tape. Sorry gang! I know you think that Taylor Swift is underrated! It's just simply not true!

7. "Manchild" by Sabrina Carpenter — Mommy's pick — Oh shit, this is the first time I'm hearing this song. Pretty good! If you are looking for HOT TAKES about some bullshit INTERNET DISCOURSE, you're in the wrong place. Sabrina can put whatever she wants on the album cover. "But what about the children?!" I don't give a shit if my kids see Sabrina Carpenter grabbing a man's knee. At best, it's an opportunity for conversation. At worst, I'm spending way too much money to see a pop star in concert with my family. For now: a good song for free in the minivan.

8. "Padam Padam" by Kylie Minogue — Martha's pick — Something I literally have not thought about until right this second is the question of "which of my children has the best taste in music." It's probably too early to say. I feel like Martha attaches to songs more because of quality, and Willow more so because of popularity. E.g. W is more of a Swiftie than M. I'm not saying that this Minogue cut is prime quality, but I do think that it's a good one, and totally one that Martha would like more than Willow. It's tough to explain.

9. "Defying Gravity" by Elphaba (performed by Cynthia Erivo) ft. Glinda (performed by Ariana Grande — Mommy's pick — They should release a version of this song that is the final 30 seconds on loop six times. Way too much fluff in the first thirteen minutes or so. I am only mildly excited for the sequel. 

10. "The Impression That I Get" by the Mighty Mighty Bosstones — Daddy's pick — What the FUCK, none of my songs drop until the TENTH song. It happens to someone every year, and I'm the sucker this year. So it goes. It just means that it took ten songs for me to do my annual bit for the first time: I turn around, all seriously, and say, "I really do think that you are gonna like this one, girls." Then 30 seconds later, I turn back around all expectedly, and Willow's looking like she wants to die, and Martha is putting up a front with a wilted thumbs up because she wants her daddy to be happy even though she's not sold on the song. Sophie, meanwhile, is useless, like the skanking dancer member of the band the Mighty Mighty Bosstones.

11. "Party in the U.S.A." by Miley Cyrus — Willow's pick — Apparently my niece—who has nothing to do with this playlist, but this is worth nothing, since it's about family and about music and about family member's perceptions of other family members' musical tastes—has said out loud before that she is confident that she knows Uncle Joe's favorite song of all time and that it is "Party in the U.S.A." by Miley Cyrus. She's not right, but she's also not wrong.

12. "Dreams" by Fleetwood Mac — Mommy's pick — It's like six hours later, and things are winding down at the vacation house. My iPod speakers have been unceremoniously cut off. I wasn't being obnoxious; I was playing the new HAIM. But that's over now. Pam puts on Fleetwood Mac. It's my mother-in-law's birthday. She responds positively to the music selection. She knows the Mac. The kids are tired. I bring one of them to bed. I get a text from Pam: "stay up there as long as you can. things are tense down here." I finally get back downstairs and find out that MIL reversed course and ordered the music to be cut completely, since she can't concentrate on the music with the TV on in the background. So now we're basically sitting in silence. Here's the solution: jazz. Jimmy Smith's Back at the Chicken Shack. Quasi-background music for the high-strung among us. Every album in its rightful place. Save Fleetwood Mac for when the TV is off, I guess...?

13. "Summer Is for Chilling" by Danny Go! ft. Brecky Breck — Martha's pick — The tail end of Danny Go!'s popularity in this home is long, long, long. This was Martha's favorite song, once upon a time. I don't think it is anymore, but the fade is slow. It'll make the next two family vacation playlists at least. I've heard this so many times. Still got no fucking clue who Brecky Breck is, though. She sounds hot.

14. "Popular" by Glinda (performed by Ariana Grande) — Martha's pick — There was a Build-a-Bear bear built at some point in the past couple months. I wasn't down to spend money like that, but I'll admit too that it's really cute seeing these kids with their stuffed animals. You can choose a song clip as a "heartbeat," which constitutes more bamboozling of my hard-earned money, but again, what the fuck am I gonna do. I'm fifth on the totem pole here. ANYWAY, Martha's teddy bear plays "Popular" when you squeeze it. And I haven't gotten sick of it yet, which says something. 

15. "Foolish Father" by Weezer — Daddy's pick — I dunno, the title seemed like an obvious one. A self-deprecating play on the bit. Oh, you don't like this Weezer deep cut featuring Titus Andronicus' Patrick Stickles on the guitar? That's a shame. I guess I'm a foolish father after all.

16. "Girls Just Want to Have Fun" by Cyndi Lauper — Willow's pick — I've probably written about this before, but Willow has been using one of my old iPods for music every once in a while. She's not toting it around all the time, but I think she, like her father, sees the value in having something physical in your hands that contains only music and that is all yours. When she was choosing songs for this playlist, she was scrolling through her iPod for ideas. I was literally doing the same thing.

17. "Lollipop" by the Chordettes — Martha's pick — I cleaned out the minivan for this trip. First time we've ever done this. I went to the car wash and spent literally 90 minutes using their free vacuums. You don't realize how much trash and dirt and Pennypack gravel is in your vehicle until you have a high-powered vac in your hand. Yo, you have no fucking clue how many lollipop sticks I sucked up. INSANITY. How are these kids' teeth not fucking rotted out???

18. "The Magic Position" by Patrick Wolf — Daddy's pick — A historical road trip song from my distant past. I don't remember how it ended up this way. Something to do with a trip in a no-air-conditioner pickup truck. Shit fades. That's why it's important to document it. There will be a day when I don't remember why Cyndi Lauper and Danny Go! are on a road trip playlist, but I'll know that they belong on a road trip playlist, and that emotion will be the only thing that will matter.

19. "Free Yourself" by Jessie Ware — Martha's pick — Pam's really good at picking up on when a kid likes a song, and then attaching that song to that kid over a long period of time. Martha probably off-handedly mentioned that she liked "Free Yourself" when Pam was playing it at some point over the past two years. But now it's Martha's song. This is a good thing.

20. "Vampire Empire" by Big Thief — Mommy's pick — I am not a fan of listening to music that is going to be on an upcoming album that I'm planning on being excited for. This Big Thief song was released as a loosie like two years ago. I assumed that it was going to be on a new album at some point. That new album is coming up quick now, and "Vampire Empire" is not on it. So it's actually fine that Pam is all of a sudden playing this shit like three times a day. It lives as a B-side. Play it, babe.

21. "Eldeberry Wine" by Wednesday — Mommy's pick — I am not a fan of listening to music that is going to be on an upcoming album that I'm planning on being excited for. I'm excited for the new Wednesday album. "Eldeberry Wine" is going to be on there. I'm not, like, militant about my no-pre-release-singles rule, but I'd prefer to not here this (pretty decent) song again until the album drops. Thank you!!!!!!

22. "It's the End of the World as We Know It (and I Feel Fine)" by R.E.M. — Martha's pick — Yo, the kids love this song! It's cool! Have I written about this before? I can't remember. We saw the new Looney Tunes movie, and it was extremely average at best. But Porky and a female pig character try to prevent an alien invasion to the tune of this song, and it stuck. I will watch a thousand mid-tier kids movies if it means they are being exposed to good music.

23. "I Feel Alive" by Steve, the Garbage Man, and the rest of the Minecraft Movie cast — Willow's pick — Listen... I'm sorry to report this. I really am. I have many regrets in my life and this is a really big one. I'm sad and I'm ashamed. But we listen to the Minecraft Movie OST somewhat often in our minivan, and I've heard the songs, and I'm very, very, very sorry to report that "I Feel Alive" is a very good song. A pastiche? Absolutely. That's by design. Doesn't mean it's not fun to sing along to.

24. "Take on Me" by a-ha — Martha's pick — #22's blurb except with the infinitely shittier Super Mario Bros. Movie (which, I should note here, is the awful, artless 2023 kiddie fair, and not the the CLASSIC 1993 film Super Mario Bros.).

25. "Take Off Your Sunglasses" by Ezra Furman & the Harpoons — Daddy's pick — #17's blurb except instead of lollipop sticks it's, no lie, eighteen pairs of sunglasses.

26. "September" by Earth, Wind & Fire — Willow's pick — I cannot write about this song on the blog any more than I already have.

27. "The Whole of the Moon" by the Waterboys — Daddy's pick — I don't know how to get music to stick when we're just listening to music, though, is the thing. It's so fucking rare that I can just say "this is a good song" and everyone agrees and we all listen to the song every day for the next two years. It happens but not often. Maybe I should make sure that "The Whole of the Moon" ends up in A Minecraft Movie 2 or some shit.

28. "Jumping in Muddy Puddles" by Peppa Pig — Sophie's pick — We almost did it, but we couldn't cross the finish line. We almost got through three children without having to submit to Peppa Pig. Almost. But almost doesn't count for anything besides horseshoes and hand grenades, and it certainly doesn't count for shitty children's television programming. Sophie watches this bullshit all the time and I hate it. 

29. "Marvel's Spidey and His Amazing Friends Theme" by Patrick Stump — Sophie's pick — I'm already getting tired of writing this blog post so I'm not going to go back and check, but this is the third year that I'm writing about this annual playlist, and I'm pretty sure this is the only song that's been picked 1) all three years and 2) each year by a different kid. Some families have hand-me-down clothing, we have hand-me-down 30-second Patrick Stump histrionics about a cartoon superhero.

30. "On My Way" by Alex Lahey — Willow's pick — Great song. It would've been cool if we had heard the chorus to this one ("I'm gonna cross state lines in my first car") while we crossed a state line. But you know what? I didn't realize until we were on our way, but we're not actually staying in OCMD. We're in Selbeyville, DE. Close to OCMD, but in a different state. We crossed one state line and it was back at like the third song.

31. "Jolene" by Dolly Parton — Sophie's pick — You might think it's disingenuous to label this as "Sophie's pick." But then, you've never seen Sophie sing this song. She actually does it. It's cute. I hate the song, but this kid warms my heart.

32. "Right as Rain" by Adele — Daddy's pick — I chose this song because I knew it was gonna confuse my wife, who is incredibly pessimistic about my music listening habits, and also doesn't read this blog. A deadly combination when you're married to someone who is actually really open-minded when it comes to music and loves to write about it when he has a breakthrough. Is it really that hard to believe that I'm not an asshole about music? That I love music and that just because I'm picky doesn't mean I'm uninformed and it doesn't mean that I don't care?

33. "Born to Run" by Bruce Springsteen — Mommy's pick — Starting in a couple weeks, I'm going to spend every two weeks concentrating on and writing a tiny little something about every Bruce Springsteen album in his discography. For the first few months, it's going to be albums I'm already familiar with. Eventually—I haven't done the math, probably in early 2026—I'll get to some later-day albums I'm not familiar with (Human Touch is the first one), and I'll do the same thing. Two weeks each. And then by next summer, we'll move into Tracks and the newly released Tracks II, which together will probably take six months or so. I'm tired of the fact that I love this artist so much but that there are so many blind spots for me in his work.

34. "New Peppa Pig Theme Song" by Peppa Pig — Sophie's pick — I'll probably have to drop some more nuanced Peppa Pig thoughts, but for now, let's just say fuck this swine and call it a day.

35. "Steve's Lava Chicken (Extended Version)" by Steve (performed by Jack Black) — Sophie's pick — Blurb #23 except the opposite. This is a meme song and it can fuck off and die. Must we get a sub-one-minute Jack Black bullshit song every summer? Why? How?

36. "Christian Street" by Marah — Daddy's pick — Good playlist. Glad we ended it with one of the best songs of all time. Pam tried claiming that she's never heard this song in her life. I'd estimate that I've played this in her presence a minimum of 50 times in the past four years. But maybe the annual family vacation playlist is the thing that's going to get it over the edge. That's why we're here! To celebrate good music, together! I think we did a good job.