Sam the Sham and the Pharoahs - Their Second Album

Sam the Sham and the Pharaohs – Their Second Album
MGM, 1965
Acquired: Half Price Books, Used, 2010
Price: $4

Well, I just finished reading the turbo-harrowing The Hunger Games, Jenny is at Ballet class and I'm trying to bide the time between when that class gets out and I get to have a corn dog at the Burger Stand and also trying to forget the ache in my loins from when the dog fucking flat out racked me this afternoon because I kept yelling “Squirrel! Squirrel!” and pointing at the trees despite there being no squirrels anywhere. In his unrestrained excitement, well, there's a dull ache in my nuts. And that sucks. But you know what doesn't suck? THIS ALBUM (and the Burger Stand's corn dog, which, if you haven't had, you should because it's not only the cheapest thing on the menu but it's really fucking tasty!)! Though Sam is best known for “Wooly Bully” which is used in every film set in the 60s, there aren't any real hits on this album. At least none that I ever heard on Oldies 95 in my formative years. Lead off track “Ju Ju Hand” was apparently a single, and it's easily the album's most forthright jam (even if it's a bit of a “Wooly Bully” rehash (see also: the Troggs)), but the rest of it is a more restrained affair. There's the almost parody-esque “Magic Touch,” which sounds like they're having a laugh on the slow dance songs from the 50s. Psychedelia is present whenever the carnivalesque organ comes into the picture, which it does pretty frequently. There are lots of references to magic, black magic, voodoo, witchcraft, and well, I guess they were going for that sort of spooky vibe. Then again, the album cover says it all. That's why I bought this record in the first place, I mean, look at that fucking thing! How could any self-respecting record collector (even an amateur novice like myself) turn down such a goddamned baffling, if beautifully designed, cover. I mean, is that guy gonna grab the lizard's tail and throw it in the pot because the “Love Potion #9” needs a lizard's tail? What's the guy next to him grinning about? Why is Sam the Sham looking so fucking awesome? What is that blonde guy digging for! IT's dangerous! And lastly, dude on the right, what's with the big fake frog! Love it! Spazzy garagey joy!

Hospital Ships - Carry On 7"

Hospital Ships – "Carry On" 7”
Graveface, 2010
Acquired: Love Garden, New, 2010
Price: $6

Jordan Geiger is probably the best songwriter in this town, and the time he's been spending with Shearwater is probably only making him better. Hospital Ships, his on the sly side project from Minus Story, debut Oh, Ramona was a pretty wonderful record and “Carry On” is a gem that ranks right up there with the best songs off of that album. And it's on pink vinyl! Beautiful pink vinyl! And it does exactly what a 7” between albums should do: Make you fall down fucking excited for the follow-up. In Lawrence, I feel like there's a sort of fighting spirit that folks have in regards to local bands, in that was all want the people we're friends with and groups we see on a regular basis to make it big because well, they're just so fucking talented that everyone in the world should be just as gaga as we are. It's not even any sort of vain attempt to put Lawrence on the map or legitimize our scene, but just to share the wonderful jams coming from a select group of songwriters in this town. These songs sound like they're from the most intimate little bedroom on planet earth, and they're absolutely fantastic. This 7” is limited edition, so BUY A COPY RIGHT NOW. At Love Garden I think the first five people get little personalized cassette tapes. I got one with a weird looking dead face on the cover. I don't know why I picked it, and then I started thinking that maybe the covers represent the tone of the music and I might be right because my tape sounds like graveyard pop. Something from a warped VHS of some forgotten horror movie from the 70s with this weird drum machine. The B-side sounds like a lo-fi Jon Brion film score, if Jon Brion was actually Daniel Johnston. The first song sounds like it's going ot fall apart at any moment but manages to just barely hold itself together through its duration in a way that makes it kind of magnificent. It's a beautiful little outtake! Then there's a weird alternate universe version of “The Shots I Drank.” And then some weird thing that sounds like music from a short wave radio transmission. Yeah!

Tullycraft - Disenchanted Hearts Unite

Tullycraft – Disenchanted Hearts Unite
Little Teddy Records, 2005
Acquired: Love Garden, Used, 2010
Price: $6

Easily my favorite twee pop record of the last ten years because, well, Tullycraft are the only band that does it right. Every other twee band that's an actual Twee band (capital T) is trying to be too cutesy, all cloying like. Tullycraft, like Heavenly or the great Sarah Records bands, succeed because they're just nerdy and twee by design. The songs are honest, funny, heartfelt, and at times, display a tremendous amount of depth. Sure, “Our Days in Kansas” (which namechecks my alma mater/school that is in this town so it's kind of required listening around these parts) is a totally hook ridden indie-pop masterpiece, but there's that slight sliver of regret and nostalgia buried in the words that, like all great twee pop jams, sneaks its sadness into impossibly upbeat songs. Then again, some of my favorite tracks are the slow burners like “Polaroids From Mars” and “Fall 4 U.” They understand the essence of twee: punk rock played by nerds. That's what it started as, and that's what it works best as. And while they're not as weirdo or lo-fi as Beat Happening, I think Calvin would be proud.

This record is on glorious PINK vinyl and when I found it in the new arrivals bin I nearly squealed with glee. I've always dreamed of finding this on vinyl and now it's sitting on my shelf. I went through a really huge indie-pop/twee phase a couple years ago, and the best thing that came from it was (after discovering Sarah Record, which blew my mind then and still blows my mind today) this record and this band. They play the kind of music that I always wanted to play if I had a band. And then I started an indie-pop band and when I sang one of the people I channeled was Tullycraft singer Sean Tollefson. Notably his vocals on “Secretly Minnesotan,” which was one of those cornerstone songs with me when the Kite Tails started. We didn't really go in that direction, but I still always dreamed of opening for Tullycraft. And though the Kite Tails are over, maybe someday!

The Cure - Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me

The Cure – Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me
Fiction, 1987
Acquired: Love Garden, Used, 2010
Price: $9

And wouldn't you know it, I walk down to Love Garden after listening to Staring at the Sea to look for Cure records and I actually find some! Good timing! Sadly, the other one was the fucking “The Walk” 12”!! Oh cruel fate! But I'm satisfied, and this plays really nicely right after that fine compilation. I've always liked Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me because, well, it's the album with “Just Like Heaven” on it. That was pretty much my only reason til I started digging on the Cure. Now, I like it because it's a nice “shape of things to come” sort of record and a great precursor to Disintegration. It retains a decent dose of their early post-punk stuff but it's clear that it's a skin being shed. It's all drama, and pop, and it's all pretty fucking great even if it is really damned long, which is a hard feat to pull off for a lot of artists. And that's all I got. It's the Cure, the Cure made some good records, this is one of 'em.

The Cure - Standing on the Beach

The Cure – Standing on the Beach
Elektra, 1986
Acquired: Half Price Books, Used, 2010
Price: $2

As it chronicles the first ten years of the Cure's career, Staring at the Sea is varied as hell. My true introduction to the Cure (that is, the Cure outside of Disintegration and “Just Like Heaven”) was through Jenny, who is a pretty rabid Cure fan and one of THOSE girls. You know, one of those girls who thinks she's still going to marry Robert Smith. I tell him he looks like a fat cross-dressing clown these days, but when we watched their Greatest Hits DVD (which naturally, Jenny owns and often puts on when we make dinner) I could see the appeal in the younger Mr. Smith. And that's what this compilation is. It's young Robert Smith and the evolution of the Cure from a pretty run of the mill post-punk band into a sad, dreamy, gothy and beautiful work of art. So, basically, this is all the hits up til Disentigration. And it's got loads of hits. “Boys Don't Cry,” “The Hanging Garden,” “Lovecats,” “In Between Days,” and “Close to Me” are the biggies. Honestly, my only real quibble with this other than my disinterest in “Killing an Arab,” “A Forest,” and most everything before “Charlotte Sometimes” other than the aforementioned “Boys Don't Cry,” is that two of my favorite tracks, “Let's Go to Bed” and “The Lovecats,” sandwich “The Walk,” which is pretty much terrible to my ears. That stupid little synth line. I mean, it's not as bad as like, “Wrong Number” or any of the later hits that are pretty fucking bad, but man, that stupid little do-doot doo doo doo doo doo doo synth line gets stuck in my head and I want to die. BUT it closes with “Close to Me,” and not the weird trip-hop remix that's on the Greatest Hits. The one they use on This American Life all the time. I'm amazed that the upbeat pop bliss of “Close to Me” and “In Between Days” is only two albums separated from the gorgeous, dense, and I-just-can't-say-enough-good-things-because-I'm-still-falling-in-love-with-it Disintegration. We got a handful of Cure CDs at CD Tradepost towards the end of my tenure there, and one day, I was listening to this, Disentigration, and the Smiths best-ofs that came in the same by. That was during my last couple of weeks, where I decided to work as hard as everyone else and thus spent most of the time sitting behind the counter on my laptop. Summer came in from next door and got really worried, worried that all the depressing music was going to cause me to kill myself. “No,” I told her. “I got a better job, I'm really happy this just sounds right today.” She came in later that day to check on me and I was listening to Elliott Smith's XO. Sometimes sad songs just hit the spot, and I'm always amazed at how remarkably upbeat the Cure can be despite their reputation.

Mastodon - Crack the Skye

Mastodon – Crack the Skye
Reprise, 2009
Acquired: Love Garden, Used, 2010
Price: $10

Wow, this doesn't sound like the same band we jammed on our way into LA five years ago. I remember listening to Leviathan for the first and last time (for whatever reason) at 3AM on the freeway into the heart of Hollywood and just having Mastodon be the perfect soundtrack for the on set of the most awesome Summer of my life. Metal is something I know nothing about. Literally nothing, and I wish I did (but only because John Darnielle loves it so much and he's my hero on all fronts). And I really like Mastodon. But maybe I love this metal because it isn't the same double-bass-drum heavy stuff I subtly make fun of in the newsletter every week. Actually, it was while writing the newsletter that I first listened to Crack the Skye and that combined with reading all about the weird thematic crux of the album (wormholes, Stephen Hawking, and suicide) sucked me into this weird sense of awe where I thought it was great. Listening to it now is really my first listen-through where I'm paying attention and it's blowing my mind in the best way. In that way where I can sense the layers, and I can hear all of the depth and complexity but it's going to take many listens to decode all of it and appreciate it on the proper level that it deserves. It doesn't sound loud enough on my stereo, but that's ok. The solos are still sick, and the evidence that it's just an immaculately crafted record is all there. It just sounds fucking great, and it's a great example of what happens when a little beloved band signs to a major and uses all the right resources and enhances their sound while not betraying anything they'd built up before. I think this is going to be one of those groundbreaking metal albums, something that serves as a gateway to the unitiated because like punk or pop proving that they too could be art, metal is sort of the last fronteir of outsider music that well, doesn't need to be outsider music if people just approach it with an open mind. I mean, I never thought I'd ever say that I thought a metal album was beautiful, but this is a beautiful record. Beautiful and sad and metal. Bonus: when I was music director I got a Mastodon shirt along with the album. I'm pretty sure the album disappeared with one of my incredibly unreliable staff members, but I still have the shirt and only recently started wearing it. I feel like a poser, but the shirt fits and laundry is expensive and well, this is a fucking great record and I love getting the thumbs up from metal dudes.

Crocodiles - Summer of Hate

Crocodiles – Summer of Hate
Fat Possum, 2009
Acquired: Half Price Books, Used, 2010
Price: $4

I think this is where I started getting disenchanted with the lo-fi scuzz whatever movement that is somehow still around. It's not because it's bad music or anything like that, it's just not music I want to listen to. Crocodiles pulled a big trick though, in that they released a really excellent single, “I Wanna Kill,” and the rest of the album just kind of meandered til the end with nary a righteous jam to be found, only distorted, delayed, and reverbed to death noodling with the occasional burst of angular shouty songs with slightly more intricate punk rock drums. Even the damn single goes on a chorus or two too long (but I won't complain, they pull off a weird lo-fi new wave 80s jam vibe so well that I always get excited when a DJ plays it on KJ every now and then). I think it's just become incredibly hard to review new music. It started hitting me in my last semester as music director where A.) I couldn't keep up anymore because B.) it all started to sound the same. Once I realized that the Vivian Girls were kind of boring and that my initial fervor about how they sounded so much like Black Tambourine morphed into “well, why don't I just listen to Black fucking Tambourine?” all new music sounded like it was copping someone else's game who had initially done it better. But that's just the case with new music, and why all band names are either boring (Crocodiles, Woods) or just outlandish and weird because well, fuck, there's nothing left (Psychedelic Horseshit). It's a cruel mistress, new music, and I just feel too old for her and have a hard time understanding if my opinions are valid or if there's something I'm missing. Although, those things missing are probably cigarettes and ten PBR empties at the Replay two Summers ago. This sounds like a record you buy at a show because the band puts on a good show and you're like “Oh yeah, that was great guys” and then a couple months later when you go to sell some records it's at the top of the pile. Which is probably why I have it. And even then, I only bought it for “I Wanna Kill” and for $4, well, why not?

The Clash - Combat Rock

The Clash – Combat Rock
Epic, 1982
Acquired: Half Price Books, Used, 2010
Price: $1.50

Ok, now I know why this was so cheap: There's a big old surface scratch. Luckily, it doesn't effect the play of this record, which I've never listened to until right now, which is bizarre. I was always overwhelmed by punk rock when I was 16-18 years old, and kind of had to pick and choose. I devoured all of the new stuff that was coming out (see: Alkaline Trio, Millencolin, Dillinger Four, NOFX, etc) and while I balanced it about 60/40 with old goodies, I only ended up with one or two albums from the Clash, Dead Kennedys, Husker Du, etc. I actually didn't get really into London Calling until college, and my early jams were from the self-titled debut. Combat Rock, their penultimate LP, has the bands two most popular songs (see: Songs that have been used in countless commercials and romantic comedies) “Should I Stay or Should I Go” and “Rock the Casbah.” I can't stand “Rock the Casbah,” but man oh man how I love the former monster hit. Combat Rock also has “Straight to Hell,” which was sampled in a song that was really, really popular a couple years ago. KJHK started playing that song a lot once people realize that MIA sampled it in that one song and on more than one occasion I had to overhear people complaining about how this band had ripped off MIA. Effectively, this record is just pretty weird. It's got the big commercial (DOUBLE MEANING! DO YOU GET IT) appeal and one of their most hardcore political songs in “Straight to Hell.” It's a weird contrast but I dig it.

Kate Bush - Hounds of Love

Kate Bush – Hounds of Love
EMI, 1985
Acquired: Half Price Books, Used, 2010
Price: $2

I can trace my Kate Bush liking back to a Decemberists show where Petra Haden sang “Wuthering Heights” and I had one of those “What the fuck is that song” moments and looked it up via a couple of lines I'd jotted down when I got home. Somehow, this is her fifth album. I don't know anything about Kate Bush other than that I really like this record and it's sort of an isolated thing. I did not know that there were four records before this (other than maybe the Kick Inside) and I suddenly want to hear them all because I like this record a lot. There are just so many massive jams. “Running Up That Hill,” “Cloudbusting,” “The Big Sky,” the title track, and a couple more I'm forgetting. There are also a couple of really weird ones, like the one where it sounds like the devil is doing backing vocals (I think it's “Waking the Witch” but I'm not sure) and the weird Irish-laced “Jig of Life.” They might as well be two separate albums, side A and side B, and maybe that's why Side A is dubbed Hounds of Love and Side B is dubbed The Ninth Wave. It's a rather ingenious method of song-releasing. One side is the monster, synthed out pop songs and the other is lush and much more organic with a folk bent. All of it is glued together by Kate Bush's marvelous, unfuckwithable voice that has become the siren song for a number of modern female vocalists (most notably Joanna Newsom, who wears the Kate Bush badge on her shoulder but very much has gone her own way). I can't really say anything about this album other than that it's, you know, pretty great. I've been listening to it a lot lately because it's been the next album on the docket for the record catalog but I just haven't had time to write about it because I've been too busy exploring the record, which really, is the best compliment I can come up with. This record is so good I can't even distract myself. It sounds remarkably fresh for being as old as me.


I distinctly remember Chris Clark forcing me to watch this video sometime within the past couple of years. It's a great song. Something about the way she sings "I just know something good is going to happen" is so convincing!

Gut Feeling: Best Coast - Crazy For You

Best Coast – Crazy For You
Mexican Summer, 2010

Well, here you have it. Another perfectly fine band ruined by a heap of hype that led to a superfluous LP exposing all the flaws of what is now apparent: the stoned beach pop thing is a passing phase and this should be the nail in the coffin until I don't know, some other faux-nostalgic trend blitzes the blogosphere. There was something wonderful and fresh about Best Coast's 7”s and Eps. It was coy, but never cloying, and came off as a better version of Jenny Lewis doing lo-fi pop jams. And now Bethany Cosentino sounds just like Jenny Lewis and it's boring. There isn't a single song on this record that stands up to monster jams like “The Sun Was High (So Was I),” “When I'm With You” (which is on the record, but tacked on at the end), or “Up All Night.” The production is cleaned up, and does a great job of sanitizing the sound that made her records so appealing in the first place. Crazy For You feels half-assed. Where the flaws were burined in the haze, the simplicity of the songs only exposes tired chord progressions and lazy songwriting about boys and summer (but again, without having anything new to offer unlike, say, her cover of “That's the Way Boys Are”). It's cloying, and it has that undesirable “like me, like me!” trait. “When I'm With You” was the high watermark, and it's inclusion at the end of the album only illustrates the tossed off quality of the preceding 12 songs. I know Best Coast's whole aesthetic is tied to a certain kind of laziness, but, well, this is the bad kind of lazy. The songs piddle around a couple of chords and then fizzle out. The end....and now it's Vivian Girls all over again. Or maybe I should have just stopped reading Cosentino's twitter, which basically just made her out to be a chick who dug smoking weed and talking about her cat. And wait, now I see a line from an interview where she says the songs are about her cat, smoking weed and being lazy! Imagine that! Ultimately, I'm just bummed that such an uncompelling album could come from someone who made songs that I listened to over and over and over again a few months ago. Somehow, it's stumbled into “like me! Like me!” faux-girl group-core.