I talked last month about major changes in my life leading to major changes to this blog. In exactly four weeks, I will become a college student for the second time in my life. I will be losing approximately 14 hours per week of free time. Clearly, I will not have the time to keep F & L going the way it's been going (I spend at least 3 hours per week maintaining the blog now). After pondering multiple courses of action, I have come to the conclusion that completely ending this blog would be taking it way too far. When it comes to budgeting free time, I'd much rather sacrifice a few hours of perusing Facebook or watching junk television than give up a blog that's this fun to do. And truthfully, the type of music I feature is going so strong right now that I simply can't not write about it! I mean, come on. Did I ever really believe I wasn't going to review the new albums from Night Birds and Kurt Baker?! I'm just not ready to put F & L to bed. In a worst-case scenario, I might take a brief hiatus in September to give myself a chance to acclimate to the life of a full-time employee and half-time student.
What I've decided to do instead of killing the blog is to cut back on both the length and frequency of my posts. My attempts to start transitioning to shorter reviews this month have not been overly successful. But, you know, I'm trying. And just for the sake of my personal sanity, I will need to limit myself to only 3 or 4 reviews per month. In a way, that will be the best thing for F & L. I don't perceive of myself as an authority on music or as an exceptional
writer. What I think I have going for me is a sheer love for music and a
knack for expressing enthusiasm. I like the idea of getting back to my original vision of only writing about the releases that I'm most excited about. Of course, this means that I won't be able to review even half of the music that bands and labels submit to me. I apologize in advance. Please keep in mind that I'm just one guy blogging in his spare time.
So this is important: please do not send me records! I don't want anyone going to the trouble and expense of sending me physical review material when there's no way I can guarantee it will be reviewed. I do love hearing from bands and labels, but I must insist that all submissions be digital.
I thank all of you who have followed this blog over the last four years. I appreciate all the recent feedback on how I should proceed, and I am eager to continue spreading the gospel. F & L, I believe, will actually benefit from a streamlined format!
I will be embarking on a journey of career change in exactly two months. This will involve me going back to school for the first time in 22 years. If all goes well, I will have an associates degree in accounting by June of 2017. My plan is to work and go to school - which sadly will leave me little if any time to keep this blog going. With that in mind, I see four possible courses of action for the future of F & L:
Option A would be to tweak the format of this blog. In this scenario, I would continue to share music but stop writing proper "reviews". The focus would be on posting songs for people to stream. Instead of me going on and on and on about a certain release, I would pretty much let the music speak for itself. The write-ups would be brief and to the point. This "less talk, more rock" option seems to be my preferred choice right now. I'd say there's a 45% chance of me going in this direction as of late August. Writing reviews is by far the most time-consuming aspect of doing this blog. And honestly, I don't think people come here to read my clunky prose. They come here to find out about awesome music!
Option B would be to go on an extended hiatus so I could focus fully on my studies. Essentially I'd kill the blog but leave the door open for it to be revived in a couple of years. I would also consider an eventual return to the world of music in the form of podcasting instead of blogging (Maybe after all of these years trying to be Lester Bangs, I'd rather just be Wolfman Jack).
The problem with Option B is that I know I'd miss doing F & L if I had to give it up. Music brings joy to my life, and this blog allows me to share some of that joy with you. But I am considering going this route because of the importance of me succeeding in this career change adventure. Perhaps eliminating all distractions is the soundest way to go. My wife and I are planning to relocate to the Midwest in 2017, and this cannot happen unless I become fully employable. I'd say there's a 35% chance of me going with this option.
Option C would be for me to keep this blog going as usual, but to only do 3 or 4 posts a month instead of the usual 10-15. In a lot of ways, this is an appealing choice. My goal when I started F & L was to only write about music that I really liked. And for the most part, I've stuck to that pretty well. The "problem" is that there's just so much great music out there right now! I already feel like a total asshole when good bands contact me about reviews and I just don't have the time to give them coverage. Now multiply that situation by three, and I would feel like triple the jerk! Still, I'd say there's a 15% chance of me going with this option.
Option D would be for me to keep this blog going as usual and just sleep a lot less. I'd say there's a 5% chance of me going with this option. And that's a very liberal estimate. I need my sleep!
Regardless of which option I choose, I kindly request that nobody send me records without contacting me first and making sure that I am willing and able to do a writeup on your release. I don't want anyone going to the trouble and expense of sending me promotional material unless I can guarantee a positive review. At this point, it's better to contact me with links to streaming sites (Bandcamp, Soundcloud, etc.) or YouTube clips that I can directly share with my followers. If you've already sent me something to review, I will be getting to it soon. But going forward, I will not be accepting unsolicited promo packages.
I imagine I will soon begin transitioning to shorter reviews - although brevity has never been my strong suit. We'll see how it goes. Thanks for following F & L, and stay tuned for more updates on the future of this blog!
There are a lot of things that go into making a great album great. The best albums, obviously, should contain consistently outstanding songs. In many cases, the greatness of an album has a lot to do with how its songs fit together. But something I look for in a great album is how it starts and ends. It's just like a good book or movie. No matter what happens in between, the opening and the ending should knock you out. The opening should reel you in, and the ending should leave a lasting impression. I'd say that most bands and recording artists understand the importance of an album starting with one of its best songs. When I think of all the albums I love, almost all of them open on a really strong note. But for me, a great closing track is equally important. As someone who's been buying LPs for 35 years, I've always relished the experience of an album ending so fantastically that I can't wait to listen to the whole thing again. A lot of the great album closers are epic and cinematic (think Bruce Springsteen's "Jungleland"). But sometimes they're just standout tracks that put exclamation points on brilliant LPs (think Wire's "12XU"). I'd say The Dictators' "(I Live For) Cars And Girls" is no less masterful of an album closer than, say, the Stones' "You Can't Always Get What You Want".
I originally tried to compile a list of the "ten greatest albums closers of all-time". But that proved to be an impossible task - one that would have involved far more research than I'd ever have time to conduct. And honestly, writing from a fan's point of view is way more satisfying than trying to take on the air of critical objectivity. So here then is a list not of the "greatest" album closers, but rather my ten personal favorites. My criteria was simple. These are all albums I love, and a large part of why I love them is how they end.
10. Parasites- "Letdown" (from Punch Lines, 1993)
While no doubt one of the greatest pop-punk albums ever made, Punch Lines is one of those records that transcends genre. Essentially it's a song cycle about love, relationships, and the pain they too often cause. "Letdown" is the resolution to all of that heartache and betrayal - that "enough is enough" moment where you finally take away a certain person's power to make you miserable. Dave Parasite's vocal on this track is the most emotionally charged of his career, and the guest guitar solo by Kurt Bloch is simply incredible.
9. AC/DC - "Whole Lotta Rosie" (from Let There Be Rock, 1977)
A great AC/DC album ends the same way it starts: with a blazing ball of rock! "Whole Lotta Rosie", if not my favorite AC/DC song, is in my top five at least. I don't think it's humanly possible to listen to this song without cranking the volume all the way up, singing the chorus to an imaginary crowd of 50,000 people, and going crazy on air guitar until you're drenched in sweat and gasping for air. If aliens showed up at my doorstep and asked me to explain earthling rock n' roll to them, I'd play them this song and await their acknowledgement of human supremacy.
8. Material Issue - "Li'l Christine" (from International Pop Overthrow, 1991)
Material Issue always had a knack for concluding an LP in style (listen to "Help Me Land" or "If Ever You Should Fall"). But "Li'l Christine", off of the trio's classic debut International Pop Overthrow, is an album closer for the ages. While opening track "Valerie Loves Me" is one of the saddest ever songs about unrequited love, "Li'l Christine" finds a twisted joy in similar themes. Countless lonely guys found comfort in this tale of romantic rejection and consequent stalking. RIP Jim Ellison.
7. Pretenders- "Mystery Achievement" (from Pretenders, 1980)
"Mystery Achievement", like almost any song on the first Pretenders album, still gives me chills even after hundreds of spins. It starts with a hypnotic bass line, builds to the most sublime of choruses, and peaks with a guitar/bass duel of legendary proportions. It's a flawless conclusion to an extraordinary album. It's hard not to think about what this band could have become if James Honeyman-Scott and Pete Farndon had not succumbed to addiction.
6. Sex Pistols- "E.M.I." (from Never Mind the Bollocks, Here's the Sex Pistols, 1977)
For anyone looking to get into punk rock, Never Mind The Bollocks is always my first recommended purchase. It's been copied again and again and again over 38 years - but has never been improved upon. And while it was certainly easy for the rock critics and respected musicians of 1977 to dismiss the Pistols as crude, untalented louts riding a short-lived trend, there's no denying today that this album (like punk rock itself!) has withstood the test of time. Steve Jones and Paul Cook remain the standard for a guitar/drum tandem in punk music. And Johnny Rotten's vocals - so raw, ferocious, and full of disdain for everything under the sun - inspired the careers of thousands of punk shouters. "E.M.I.", largely due to Rotten's vocal performance, was the perfect conclusion to the band's one and only album. It's like the last will and testament of the Sex Pistols - one final fuck-you to the establishment, delivered resoundingly.
5. Big Star- "I'm In Love With A Girl" (from Radio City, 1974)
Here's a classic case of a song perfectly placed at the end of an album. As a singular track, "I'm In Love With A Girl" is one of the most beautiful pop songs ever recorded. Hearing it in any context, I'm likely to close my eyes and get lost in one minute and 48 seconds of sheer bliss. But I especially love the way this song brings such gratifying closure to Radio City - like a happy ending to a movie or book that's unexpected yet entirely appropriate.
4. The Who- "Won't Get Fooled Again" (from Who's Next, 1971)
Given that it was originally intended to be a concluding number in a rock opera, it's no accident that "Won't Get Fooled Again" is the consummate album closer - one of the great epic rock songs of all-time. Separated from its original place in Pete Townshend's Lifehouse narrative, it remains a timeless statement on revolution and power, punctuated by Roger Daltrey's career-best scream and those final, eternally true lyrics. Hearing this song on the radio a couple weeks back was what first gave me the idea to write this article.
3. Beach Boys- "Caroline, No" (from Pet Sounds, 1966) Pet Sounds is the embodiment of great album sequencing: the best three songs are the opener, the first song on Side 2, and the closer. And they're all equally important. If you removed "Caroline, No" or even took it out of the closing slot, Pet Sounds would not be nearly as great. The whole album builds toward this masterful finale - a beautiful and deeply moving ode the loss of innocence and how it can complicate young love. Hands down, my favorite Beach Boys song.
2. The Replacements- "Here Comes A Regular" (from Tim, 1985)
At the height of Reagan era materialism, Paul Westerberg became a cult hero for articulating the plight of those individuals who'd missed the boat on all that happiness and prosperity. Much of his legend can be tied to The Replacements' finest album, Tim. Classic songs like "Swingin' Party", "Bastards Of Young", and "Little Mascara" offer powerful depictions of disappointing lives and shattered dreams. Westerberg returns to this theme one last time on "Here Comes A Regular" - a heartbreaking glimpse into the unfortunate back-stories of barflies. I don't think better rock lyrics have ever been written, and essentially this is an entire tragic novel condensed into a five-minute song.
1. The Clash- "Garageland" (from The Clash, 1977)
You all know the story. A music critic slams The Clash and implies that the world would be better off if all these crappy punk rock bands retreated to their garages and were never heard from again. The Clash respond with this powerhouse of a song - somewhat of a counterattack but more so a rousing manifesto about the sad state of mainstream rock and the boundless joy of making music purely for the love of it. This is the punk anthem to end all punk anthems, and it rings just as true today. Plus I love the way they pronounce the word "garage" in the land of my ancestors.
Honorable mentions:
Rolling Stones- "Shattered" (1978)
The Clash- "Train In Vain" (1979)
New York Dolls- "Jet Boy" (1973)
The Zombies- "Time Of The Season" (1968)
The Replacements- "Can't Hardly Wait" (1987)
The Tattle Tales- "Her New Company" (2006)
Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers- "American Girl" (1976)
The Unlovables- "Inconsolable" (2005)
Wipers- "Youth Of America" (1981)
In this day and age when any idiot can be a music blogger, it's perfectly logical to ask what role people like me should play. Should we be cheerleaders? Promoters? Critics? Entertainers? Are we doing a disservice to bands if we fail to offer constructive critiques of their music? Are we pompous jerks if we do offer constructive critiques of their music? Ultimately, I'd say it all depends on the intentions and goals of each blogger. I can't speak for anyone else who does the sort of thing I do. I can only tell you what I try to do with F & L. And what I try to do is to merely bring attention to music that people might enjoy. Which is why I only write about music that I genuinely like.
In no way at all do I consider myself a critic. For many years, I attempted to be one. And I am highly ashamed of every negative word I've ever written about any band in the past. Bands put their heart and soul into creating music, and they certainly don't deserve to have their efforts demeaned by some pretentious asshole who doesn't really know what he's talking about. I have no personal opposition to the idea of music criticism. I think when it's done well, honest criticism can be very constructive to bands. But I feel the person issuing the critique should be a working musician with technical knowledge and experience in that world. Me? I'm just a fan.
To me, part of what makes underground music unique is how we discover so much of it through word of mouth. I can think of lots of my favorite bands of both all-time (Replacements, The Boys) and present day (The Cry!, L.A. Drugz) that I came to discover entirely because friends went to the trouble of turning me on to them. I am so thankful for that and eager to pay it forward. I am neither qualified nor inclined to judge the "worth" of music. But as a music lover who finds everyday life greatly enriched by the joy of rock n' roll, I'm most definitely inclined to publicly share what I like. In the old days, I heard songs I liked and put them on mixed tapes for my friends. Now I put up links to streaming tracks on a personal blog. It's essentially the same thing.
I've been hearing from a lot of bands and labels lately, and I am deeply humbled by that. I feel bad that I don't have time to write about all the music that is brought to my attention. And I feel bad when I don't like something enough to review it. That said, if you've got a piece of music that you do want me to hear, I promise I will at least give it a fair listen with an open mind. I only ask that all submissions be digital. I am not comfortable accepting physical submissions since I know I cannot guarantee a positive review (or any review at all).
Thanks to all of you who take the time to stop by my insignificant corner of the blogosphere. Perhaps I still haven't mastered the concept of keeping my reviews short and letting the music speak for itself. But trust me: I'm working on it!
I've decided that our next house will have to have a record room. This room's sole function would be to give me a place to sit and listen to music. I've realized that I don't spend nearly enough time these days just sitting and listening to music. When I was a little kid and first got into rock, that was the way I listened to music. I bought records, and I sat in my room and played them. I taped songs off the radio and played them back. I'd lie in bed all night listening to the latest hits. Now it seems I'm too "busy" to actually spend undivided time with records. If I listen to music, it's usually while I'm in the midst of "multitasking". I listen to the majority of my music while I'm working on the computer. I frequently listen to music while I'm driving. I play the radio in the morning while I'm getting ready to go to work. But rarely do I reserve the time to concentrate only on listening to music. I'd like that to change.
I've heard stories of friends' dads who'd come home from a hard day of work and retire to their designated area to listen to records. One guy listened to Harry Chapin. The other guy played Bee Gees records. Both of them drank beer while they enjoyed their tunes. It seems that that older generation has it all figured out. My old man was the same way back in the mid-'70s. He had an "office" in the basement of our split level suburban home. He'd put on his robe, lie in his recliner, and jam to Jim Croce records on the turntable. I still love Jim Croce to this day.
I envision a similar set-up in my own future. I need a pimped-out lair of rocking. Our brave new world of downloads and streaming tracks certainly has a lot going for it, but I have to admit that no amount of instant gratification can ever replace the satisfaction of music in tangible formats. There's just something cool about holding an album cover and reading the lyrics while you listen to the record. I'll want an old school stereo system with turntable and large speakers in my record room. I'll have shelving to store my vinyl. I'll procure a comfortable chair and perhaps even a small fridge for quick access to liquid refreshment. The walls will be adorned with Clash and Stones posters from back in the day. I may even convert an old shower into a state of the art listening booth.
Of course, even in my present living situation there is opportunity for me to modify the way I listen to music. The beauty of the iPod is that you can take it anywhere. I have a recliner in my man cave. That's usually my seat for watching TV. Instead of always coming home and turning on the TV, I could sit back in my chair and play an album. And by all means, I could go buy myself a new record player for the man cave. The one I have now is left over from the late '90s and sometimes doesn't operate at the completely correct speed. The needle hasn't been replaced since Bill Clinton was president. I'm due for an upgrade.
I suppose what I don't like about all of this technology today is that I allow myself to get so distracted all the time. I'd like to get lost in listening to an album instead of needing to check my email and Facebook every two minutes. I can't sit through two minutes of commercials during a hockey game without changing the channel 16 times and checking my phone for messages. And I don't blame the technology. I blame myself. I've cultivated a significiant attention deficit entirely through habit. Breaking these habits, while a daunting task, will be a highly fulfilling experience. I'm going to make myself relax and listen to music. No distractions will be allowed. My iPhone will remain upstairs. My laptop will remain shut. I won't take notes. I'll just listen and enjoy. Maybe I'll even start taking walks so I can listen to music on foot. Lately I've been doing a special exercise where I stay in bed after the alarm goes off in the morning, listening to music instead of getting up and being productive. These "sessions" have been known to last 45 minutes.
Oh, the extreme sacrifices we must sometimes make to enrich our lives!
A peculiar and little-known fact about me: I don't like to party. Seriously. I hate parties. I am not comfortable in any social situation that involves more than four people. I don't think I've enjoyed any party I've ever been to in my entire life. Basically a party is just a bunch of people you don't want to talk to behaving in such ways that completely justify why you don't want to talk to them. Plus the beer is terrible and the music almost always sucks. Unless your names are Bill S. Preston, Esquire and Ted Theodore Logan, you can't get away with using the word "party" in your everyday vernacular without sounding like a complete douche bag.
If I hate anything more than parties, it's songs about parties. That shit makes my blood boil. Every time I see the Bud Light "Don't Stop the Party" Pitbull commercial, I consider throwing something heavy through the TV screen (and not just because the Flyers are usually losing at the time). There is no greater musical atrocity known to man than the calculated "party anthem". It's the worst kind of pandering. It's a cheap ploy to win over the masses by appealing to their lowest common denominator. If I could wipe just one song away from the annals of recorded music, it would be "Party Rock Anthem". If you're giving me two more, let's get rid of "(You Gotta) Fight For Your Right (To Party!)" and Pink's "Get The Party Started". I have no objection to songs that became party anthems through no fault of their creators - like say, "Louie Louie" or "Blister In the Sun". Hell, even "YMCA" is okay by me. But any "artist" who intentionally writes a song about partying should be publicly beaten. Some bands, like the Black Eyed Peas, have made entire careers out of this sort of nonsense. It would be a tremendous public service if that group's entire recorded output were forever obliterated by an electromagnetic pulse (except for perhaps "My Humps", which I will certainly recognize as an artistic achievement of the highest order).
What about party anthems recorded by credible artists - like "Ain't Nothin' But a Houseparty" by the J. Geils Band? I can't stand that one either. "Celebration" by Kool & the Gang? I have loathed that song since I was nine years old. I'm okay with Eddie Murphy's "Party All the Time" - primarily because the song is essentially a cautionary tale on the destruction that excessive partying can inflict upon a relationship. The awesome "Partied Out" by Kurt Baker similarly laments the negative effects of partying. The closest I'll come to liking a true party anthem is "1999" by Prince. But its apocalyptic sub-text clearly makes it an exception.
Your mission, dear reader, is to think of a party anthem that I can't possibly denounce. There's got to be at least one, right? Surely I'm overlooking or forgetting a party anthem that's completely unassailable. Does "Dancing in the Streets" count? I do like that one. How about another one? What do you think? I prevail upon your expertise!
