Featuring nineties punk rock, sixties soul, and eighties fringe-rock!
Like every ex-dj music aficionado, my shelves are crammed with music, in my case over six formats: compact disc, cassette, digital, vinyl, 8-track, and reel-to-reel. As space is increasingly at a premium, this is my attempt to make sense of all the noise. The goal is to find wonderful music hiding in my own house, stuffed in closets or secreted on hard drives.
The verdicts are: Shelf (meaning you get a spot in the front room by the various music players), Second Listen (verily, I am intrigued), Exile (banished to the back closet, but not forgotten), and Salvation Army (seeya).
First up:
Ann Beretta, Burning Bridges EP.
Ann Beretta opened up for Avail, playing with Strike Anywhere on a 2000 era tour, and I saw them in Montevallo, Alabama. I got kicked in the face in the mosh pit, busting my nearly-brand-new Buddy Holly glasses, which I still wore for six more years.
This music sounds like that. It’s kids grunting semi-generic punk, but it begins to transcend on such gems as “Fairweather,” and while a Cars cover was even at the time routine, doing the Jam’s “In the City” was a delicious jolt of history and punk rock that mixed perfect. It’s been on my SHELF since 2000, and at least for sentimental reasons, shall remain there.
A relatively new song that pretty much sums up the whole shebang.
MOJO Presents Southern Soul
I’ve got dozens of these “free with your purchase of highly-expensive if awesome British music mag” cds, and normally they end up in the Salvation Army pile. Why is this one different? Well, one, it says “Southern” in the title, but forget that: “Long After Tonight Is All Over” by Irma Thomas is a glistening hunk of pop-soul, desperately pleading that love will last beyond prom nite, after the vinyl back-seat of this Chevrolet is faded and cracked. A rowdy solo Ronettes, complete with strings:
It doesn’t hurt to have the descending-mode, tipsy “Light My Fire” cover in your mix-tape arsenal either (sung by Erma Franklin, older sister to Queen Aretha), or to stick it on yr SHELF.
Jon Langford, Skull Orchard.
Bought for three bucks at a Hudson’s, how could you pass up a solo record by a Mekons member on Sugar Free? Strolling out of Chicago on Sugar Free in 1997, it reminds me deliciously of that whole time period. Do you like anthemic British country ballads? Then you’ll like “Penny Arcades,” the second and best track on this LP, which is getting sucked onto my hard drive, whilst the rest must get Salvation Army. I gave it several SECOND LISTENS, but this is my final verdict.
Not on the record, but pretty indicative.
The Gun Club, Mother Juno.
Re-released in 1996 on Henry Rollins’ 2.13.61 label, this disc is coated with WMSV stickers and indicia. I reviewed it that year, and said the following (stuck within on a Post-It note) for my liner notes for the djs:
This album is a POST-HUMOUS release—originally coming out in 1986. The Gun Club never found notoriety in the ‘80s, even though their sound typifies the era. Soaring yet low boyvox w/ U2-esque undertones, Pretty NewWavey/punky @ times. 1. Is nice shimmerpop. 4. Pretty, slowish. 5. Soaring, majestic 80’s pop. 9. Classic Bonofeel, great. 11. Nice nice.
And apparently the second song is “NAQ” (“not air quality,” a/k/a there’s some dirty words), and the sixth song features Blixa Bargeld of the Bad Seeds. And the ninth song has Jeffrey Lee Pierce sounding much more Cult-like than U2.
I kept this out of love for my old radio station, even though its dictator ejected such historical epherema from the library. I do not need it: but it can only be Salvation Army’d to a fellow traveler of the college radio days, WMSV or otherwise, or a Gun Club lover. If you want it, please e-mail, and it’ll be there this week.
Previous Shelfwars:
Galaxie 500 v. Nick Drake
Blake Babies v. Elastica
I always love reading these posts. Also, I always want Jon Langford to be more awesome. I like the idea of Jon Langford, but actual Waco Bros or Jon Langford albums always leave me cold.