Showing posts with label Windhand. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Windhand. Show all posts

Friday, July 17, 2020

HEAVY TUNES: Records I Listened to This Week or So, As of July 17, 2020

June 30, 2020

  1. Wand, Golem
    Shredder. Right up there with Plum!
  2. A Winged Victory for the Sullen, A Winged Victory for the Sullen
    Was I awake during this? Was the band?
  3. Explosions in the Sky, The World Is Not a Cold Dead Place
    ...if you say so.
  4. Helium, Ends with And
  5. Trans Am, Trans Am
  6. Windhand, Windhand
  7. Bongripper, Glaciers
  8. Funkadelic, America Eats Its Young
  9. Starcastle, Citadel

July 12, 2020

  1. David Bowie, Outside
  2. Guns & Roses, Chinese Democracy
  3. Wolf Parade, Cry Cry Cry
  4. Madvillain, Madvillainy
  5. Quasimoto, The Unseen
  6. Deltron 3030, The Instrumentals
  7. Red Sparowes, Every Heart Shines Toward the Red Sun
    Quick note on this band: I do not think they every recorded a bad note, and I love them. This has been: a quick note on Red Sparowes.
  8. Steve Morse, High Tension Wires
  9. The Nocturnes, A Year of Spring

I came late to Bowie—or, more accurately, I started late to come to Bowie—there's so much of it, and finding this late-career excellence reminded me that some great figures don't stop being great after people stop paying attention. It's not perfect, track for track, but there are some amazing songs here, and I look forward to learning more.

June 13, 2020

  1. Black Sabbath, Live Evil
  2. The Palace Brothers, There Is No-One What Will Take Care of You
  3. Blood Incantation, Hidden History of the Human Race
  4. King Geedorah, Take Me to Your Leader
  5. fIREHOSE, "fromohio"
  6. Screaming Trees (no, not that one), Beaten with the Ugly Stick (EP)
  7. Elvis Costello & the Attractions, My Aim Is True
  8. Blue Őyster Cult, On Your Feet or on Your Knees
  9. Pelican, City of Echoes
  10. Monster Magnet, 25....Tab

July 15, 2020

  1. Galaxie 500, This Is Our Music
    Could it be that the only essential Galaxie 500 record is Copenhagen?
  2. MF Doom, Born Like This
    This has one of my favorite tracks on one of my favorite CDs Noodles ever made, but I probably won't listen to the album again, b/c I don't need to hear or support "Batty Boyz" again.
  3. Sebadoh, Smash Your Head on the Punk Rock
    Man, "Mind Meld" sure holds the fuck up. So good.
  4. Spoons, Static in Transmission
    Right around here this week I started to lose my mind and pursue depths of Can(adian)Con(tent) that I am not sure are good for me, exactly.
  5. Wolfmother, Wolfmother
    This is bad, and I like it. I don't know what to make of anything anymore.

July 16, 2020

  1. Swervedriver, Mezcal head
    "Last Train to Satansville" is a great song title. Shoegaze is just prog with pop vocals, but you aren't ready to have that conversation.
  2. Spoons, The Best
    "Nova Heart" rules extremely hard.
  3. Kim Mitchell, Akimbo Alogo
    I think I wanted to be in the car, driving fast, again. This record gives a good vibe of that.
  4. Max Webster, Universal Juveniles
    I told you the CanCon was getting pretty real around here.
  5. Finger Eleven, Finger Eleven
    "Finger eleven" is a fucking sentence.
  6. John Carpenter, Anthology: Movie Themes
  7. Mike Watt, "Ring Spiel" Tour '95
  8. Kiss, Music from "The Elder"
  9. Dramarama, Hi-Fi Sci-Fi

July 17, 2020

  1. Jesu, Never
  2. MF Doom, Vaudeville Villain
  3. Hawkwind, Quark, Strangeness and Charm
  4. Baroness, The Red Album
  5. Miles Davis, Bitches Brew
  6. Spoons, Stick Figure Neighborhood
    I like this! Sort of the Joy Division guitar album to the later Spoons' New Order keyboard albums.
  7. Lana del Rey, Born to Die
  8. Blue Őyster Cult, Blue Őyster Cult
  9. Deltron 3030, Event 2

Monday, April 15, 2019

Fat's HEAVY TUNES of the Year 2018

Fat's HEAVY TUNES of the Year 2018

0. Introductionalizing Maunderings

Christ, this has taken an eternity even to start not working on.

I. List + Links (TD;LR crowd)

Fairly complete playlist here. Missing: Philip Glass, The Tirol Concerto; "Cheree" by Big Business; "Amulet of the Weeping Maze"; "Shadows" by Blood Candy; and maybe most gallingly, "London Town" by the Nocturnes.

II. Fat's Diary Action

One of the things that dominated my musical year was using live shows to drive what I listened to. In the run-up to my buddy Dan's visit to my town to help me (and thousands of others) party down (see below), I spent a lot of time listening to a lot—I mean a lot—of Wolf Parade. Their show that night was phenomenal, and I recreated the setlist on a streaming platform I won't link to here, for reasons I'll get to later. But mostly I didn't listen to that set too many times, I just bashed my way through their records over and over again. The new, or anyway the then-new, one Cry Cry Cry is incredible and gets all the fullest recommendations. I mean, so are and so do the others. But shit, you probably know those already.

That was January. Also in January, I figured out my No. 1 use for a popular streaming platform: thinking of tapes I used to own and making playlists of them. (This started when I didn't want to rebuy tapes, and strengthened with the discovery that my tape deck had become one with the infinite, unbeknownst to me.) The tape-recreation project that sold me on this idea was the Hell On Wheels Tour Sampler, which I was given free at the Sound Warehouse in Aurora, Colorado, somewhere in the mid/late '80s, almost certainly when I was buying a live Whitesnake cassette. Anyway, this project reacquainted me with two songs each by three bands: Grim Reaper, Helloween, and Armored Saint. My basically contemporary notes:

  • Grim Reaper: just DUMB
  • Armored Saint: much better than I remember, but no ... song(s) happening here
  • I think that the only good power metal is deeply ridiculous. I.e., power metal that isn't at least somewhat ridiculous can't possibly be good. "Future World" is, absolutely, both somewhat ridiculous and very, very good.

So there you have it.


(A pair of friends meeting for the first time!)

However, streaming absolutely sucks ass, for reasons technical, economic, and other, as I quickly discovered when I decided I wanted to recreate my favorite Procol Harum cassette from years gone by, called simply The Best of Procol Harum, but which consisted primarily of songs that just absolutely couldn't be found on the streaming platform I was using. So I just bought the fucker on the secondary market and put it my car and all was well. This isn't a great story, I recognize that. But if I can generalize for a second, it turns out that now and again digging out something you haven't thought about in a long time can be a really enriching experience, and it also turns out that listening to early Procol Harum songs like "Homburg", "Quite Rightly So" and "Shine On Brightly" completely rules. (Adverb rock gives me the Yes effect, is maybe what I'm getting at.)

Several years ago, I saw an SF Ballet performance set to Philip Glass' Tirol Concerto, which was probably the most enjoyable piece of minimalism I've ever heard. For some reason, I find it almost unbearably emo, and I love it preposterously much. Amusingly, it is not available on the streaming platform I currently enjoy, but is only findable on the shitty one I used to use.

I also listened through the Killdozer catalog, but it came and went kind of quickly for me this time around. If you haven't heard Killdozer, you definitely should! If you have, you're probably okay for now. But give it a try for yourself, see what you think about how much you need around right now.

Similarly around that time coming and going more or less quickly were the Roxy Music record Country Life and the new Vince Staples. Much later in the year, the new Big Business Tour EP dropped, but I find I have trouble remembering it when I'm not listening to it, except for the wall-of-heart loud ballad "CHEREE", which closes the EP and makes me happy every time I hear it. I pre-ordered the new album, The Beast You Are, but I haven't heard it yet. I spent a couple weeks listening to a lot of Thin White Rope again, which was fun: that was my 1989 or so, just mainlining "Red Red Sun", and again my 1994 or so, obsessed with "July" and "Exploring the Axis" "the Three Song" and "It's OK" and a dozen more. This time through the archive, I decided I mostly agree with the critical consensus, which seems to cohere around the idea that Moonhead is the best, most consistent collection.

Tinzeroes convinced me to give another shot to the Aesop Rock record The Impossible Kid, and it had some moments that brought tears to my eyes in the car, but mostly it kept sending me back to Skelethon again and again. Finally the (then-) new (-ish) EMA, Exile in the Outer Ring started to click with me, largely due to the insanely good outtakes record and in particular the sick af tune "Dark Shadows".

You want to know an amazing record I have been listening to since I heard one song on KALX like 10+ years ago? Little Teeth Child Bearing Man. It's almost all great, but my favorites are "Good Girls and Boys" and "Between My Ears" (called "Behind My Eyes" the first time I heard it). You should also listen to "Amulet of the Weeping Maze". I like it, and so do my neighbors.

Finally gave Deafheaven a shot—or maybe Deafheaven finally came through with a seriously amazing song! Either way, if I were going to have a song of the year (I don't think I will?), it might well be "Honeycomb", which is purest, purest candy. The follow-up single was similar, but cranked my crank somewhat less, maybe because it didn't have straight-up pop-punk chords (at literally like 4:20 in! (okay, it's 4:12/4:13)) and hair-metal leads (right after that, 4:39) over the now-standard lush shoegaze/bedroom-metal guitar textures that have been taking my breath away since I first heard Jesu Earth, "Song 6", on a tape my buddy Darren made for me so I'd have something to listen to when I was packing boxes at the warehouse. Anyway, this song is about as good as music got in 2018, and it's nearly as good as the Helium song of the same name, and I don't know any compliments anyone can give that are any better than that. (NOTE: I once looked up a Deafheaven lyric. Never again, extremely NOT RECOMMENDED.)

Around this part of the year, I was really starting to suffer under the yoke of Twitter: corroded, miserable, edgy, argumentative, restless and hopeless all the time. A podcast I liked gave me a very, very concentrated feeling of ... Twitter, and the way I couldn't bring myself to stop listening to it, even as it made me corroded, miserable, edgy, argumentative, restless and hopeless all at once helped clarify my need to quit Twitter, which was good, but not as good as a song they used as interstitial music, Japanese Breakfast's "Diving Woman". Another great thing about this band is how high they rank on the "makes good music, also writes good stuff to read" scale. Would I listen to a podcast that was just Michelle Zaurner and Andrew Falkous reading their most recent articles and playing a couple songs? Probably. Definitely.

I tried out the new Abstracter and all the Abstracter I hadn't previously heard / loved, and decided I'd stick with the Abstracter I'd previously heard / loved. For those of you who didn't read the earlier love notes to Abstracter, that means Tomb of Feathers and Wound Empire. I also had a pretty long moment with the Baroness record Blue, which I checked out from my local library, which is pretty fucking cool. Definitely a rad way to find out about things! Also I was whining to my buddy about how I wished there were Iron Maiden records I hadn't heard before, at which point he gently pointed out to me that I hadn't actually bothered to listen to literally any Iron Maiden records other than Live After Death, and recommended Book of Souls, which I had actually seen the tour of, and which IS ABSOLUTELY FANTASTIC. There just isn't anything like Iron Maiden, and "The Red and the Black" is a perfect Iron Maiden song, both distilled and expanded in incredible ways. Thanks, Pierre Idiot Trudeau.

There's just not such a thing as too much—nor even enough!—Emma Ruth Rundle music around and to hand and playing, and so I ran down her early project The Nocturnes, and there I found "London Town", which is about as good as music gets, to me, in my ears. Sort of a When the Levee Breaks for 90s kids, god that's a stupid thing to say the song is amazing however.

When I'm not listening to music sometimes I go to the movies, and sometimes it turns out that those two things can be sort of combined, and so at some point in the summer Noodles and I betook ourselves to the ol' beer theater and saw Stop Making Sense which made me a Talking Heads fan. Nothing can really compare with that, but the songs are great regardless; they just gain a lot of power from the live performance.

I rarely get to listen to the radio at my place anymore, which kind of sucks. But every once in a while, I remember in the car, and things get good. One morning on the way to the day job, I heard a couple bands that I really liked: Blood Candy, doing "Shadows" and Maktharveskan, doing a song I can't remember and didn't write down, but it hardly matters because about half of their catalog is stunning, perfect raucous pop, and the other half is also wonderful. Best starting songs are probably "Antabus" and "In My Dreams". The latter is big melodies that don't stop, the former is the same but also with a lyric containing the words "in my room", and one of the iron laws of pop music is that songs containing the words "in my room" are always better than songs NOT containing the words "in my room". It's where you listen to music: you need music about that, it's just science. (Also recommended: Vomit Launch. Bad name, some great songs.)

Three-quarters of the way through my year, a work assignment broke the hell out of my routine: I went some miles away, to a city not mine, to work on a strike with workers I don't usually represent or work alongside, for a few days. One night, in the hotel room, just ... needing ... something, I paid for a music streaming service, which I had never done before, relying on ad-supported versions (and complaining wildly about them the while). My first downloads were Yes, Fragile, and some Talking Heads, salve and fuel, respectively. (I also watched Super Troopers at least twice in that hotel room, but we don't need to talk about every single little thing I did or did not do on that work trip.) Having access to a more convenient and controllable form of streaming than picking a station and methodically tuning it or trudging through duplicate versions of individual songs to create playlists one song at a time was a lot of fun, and offered a lot of freedom.

Unfortunately, I'm not very creative, and not very used to freedom. (Thanks, society!) So mostly what I did was think of things I hadn't heard in a long time and listen to them again. That was probably the theme of the year. But anyway, I revisited the incredibly good jangle+reverb-intensive hard pop Caterwaul, which had absolutely dominated a year or two in high school for me, with huge vocal melodies, gorgeous flouridated fog banks of guitar noises, and just enough shrieking to keep it all interesting for a young AC/DC fan like me. Turns out that early-90s me was wrong, and Portent Hue is not better than Pin & Web, tho both are excellent and heart-expanding. Think early R.E.M. with some Kate Bush / Siouxsie Sioux vocals, maybe? From Pin & Web, side one as a totality gets a high recommendation: if you remember the echoey 80s at all fondly, you will find something to like here, from the lighter, airier "Hummingbird Whir" (prom music in some gothier alternative universe (season one of the OA, maybe?)) to the faster/harder core Caterwaul moments of "The Sheep's a Wolf" and "Dizzy Delirium". But the best is the hopscotch-melody of "Not Today", which absolutely, positively, should have been a hit on some chart somewhere, and still should. Mostly I like my guitar rock a little dumb, but Caterwaul gives me doses of guitar rock that are clever and interesting (and insane howling vocals that earn the shit out of the band name help a lot, too (and so do the weird mandolin-heavy songs that still seem vaguely ... Shakespearean?)). Probably 20 years after I first heard them ("Alex' Aphrodisiac", off of Portent Hue, on the college station I could hear from suburban Denver), I think I might still be the biggest Caterwaul fan I have ever met.

New Windhand, Eternal Return, dropped and made me SO happy. Just such a monumental, mammoth piece of work, heavy enough to crush, but beautiful (not pretty) enough to buoy. As repetitive in its own way as Philip Glass, and as good at never ending up boring, the whole record is more varied than it sounds, and even the very, very long songs don't make you wish they were shorter. I spent much of the year actually singing along to this record. I may not know what any given song is about—I'm fairly certain I don't!—but I know that raising my voice to, maybe, harmonize along with "I wish you would I wish you would I wish you would I wish you would" again and again made me a happier, and maybe better, person this year. Sometimes you just got to tell the motherfuckers, motherfucker, I wish you would. And if you happen to have grinding churns of guitar underneath you, so much the better.

With streaming and stretching out into the past comes weird rabbit holes and unexpected enjoyments. Having always cordially loathed Trans Am, I naturally spent a couple months listening to little else. The first record (self-titled), mostly, but also no little Surrender to the Night. The first record is just fine background music, and later songs like "Motr" and "Carboforce" are lovely Krautrock with like, New Order lifts here and there, and sometimes that is a really good thing.

It would be literally illegal for me to do a Fat's HEAVY TUNES roundup without inordinate quantities of Emma Ruth Rundle, so it turned out that On Dark Horses was a slower grower for me than some of the past records, but even before I had gotten my heart fully around what was on offer, I went to bed as often as not with "a life spent ... uneasy" rolling around between my ears from "Fever Dreams" or "they say what doesn't kill you will just keep you alive" from "Dead Set Eyes". It's maybe a slightly less dynamically varied record than a couple of the previous ones, but there's her amazing melodic guitar textures everywhere and her giant choruses, just oceanic waves picking you up and doing what they will with you. Great record.

At the end of the year, I discovered Tangerine Dream. I like Tangerine Dream. Kind of a LOT. Similarly Lana del Rey. I started with the first record, which I had never listened to. I had long thought "Video Games" was one of the greatest singles of my lifetime, and after spending a while with Born to Die, I am convinced that (a) I was right about that, and (b) it's not even the best song on side one: "Blue Jeans" is the best song on side one. (It's a better song, but it's not a greater song: cultural impact matters, and pop is always a little paradoxical anyway.) Anyway, best one-two punch I heard this year, probably.) Her songwriting is next-level to me: probably no record on this list does more to convey and create specific moods, images, and the sense of a coherent, consistent vision.

Okay, songs of the year: "Blue Jeans", "The Red and the Black", "Honeycomb", "Fever Dreams", I dunno. Doesn't matter, probably. What were yours?

III. Conclusatory Thinkery

Two things I don't want to talk about here, but do want to talk about sometime: (a) the bad streaming service debacle; (b) so ... I'm starting to feel like ... I ... don't really want to listen to men sing anymore? I've been thinking this off and on for a couple years, and I think the year-enders back this trend up, but I don't really know what it means, and I don't know exactly what to think or how to feel about it. Anyway, now it's down on paper, so maybe I can start the work.

IV. Previously in Years in HEAVY TUNES

Wednesday, January 06, 2016

Fat's best HEAVY TUNES of 2015

Another weird year in music, one that was more controlled by my machinery for music-listening than ever before. My plugged-into-the-stereo music laptop seems to have lost the ability to play entire .mp3 files—this, just a couple years after deciding it was going to play all album tracks in alphabetical order. And my main working / archiving / everything else laptop took a month-long break when, for no reason I understand, its OS became corrupted. Thanks, Linux. I bought a turntable and mostly hated it. I quit using my little walkman and just started using my phone for everything—but once my laptops died, I was basically down to streaming music, which was fine, except at some point, I bought a Chromecast, for streaming from my phone to my stereo. After which, when I was at home, I just wanted to stream stuff from my phone to my stereo, but you can't stream from Bandcamp to a Chromecast, and most of what I loved this year came to me on Bandcamp. I would really have liked to listen to most of what I loved this year on my stereo.

Anyway. Here's my year in HEAVY TUNES, in roughly chronological order. A year of albums for me, more than songs. Some of them even came out this year!
January Early in the year, I gave Sleaford Mods the fairest shot I could. Some of their songs are pretty good! I really enjoyed "shitstreet" and "under the plastic and NCT", particularly the lyric and delivery of "three words: cage, wheel, hamster! 'ere, here's a bit of cheese—nibble the bastard!"

They didn't hold up for me, though: a combination of songs that all stick around a little too long and which are basically impossible to tell apart and a completely unacceptable Twitter presence, devoted mainly to telling people that their beats are bad, which is a little like the Ramones complaining that other people's songs are short, repetitive, and catchy.

More promising and longer-lived was Robonaut, a cool project that provided a lot of the year's best background music for writing. Between the good sounds and perfect song titles, I spent a lot of time with this one on: it's best described as a soundtrack for a science fiction movie that nobody has yet made, and the skittering noises, interesting textures, and sheer sonic interest of the whole thing was immensely pleasurable.

In January, I also started experimenting with Kowloon Walled City. We'll talk more about this later, but what I initially responded to was the curdled, emotionally exhausted, unhappy vibe. I spent a lot of my year listening to this at work, is what I'm saying.

In spring, I added maybe the best Holy Mount record, Vol, a late-2014 release with great glide-riffs, wonderful synth textures, and just enough vocal hooks to scratch all my pop-prog itches. One of the year's best records for bringing some emotional motion, mainly soaring, to static environments (mainly working). It's credibly heavy and/but makes you feel good; helpful in a grind of a year like a dull blade pressed to your inner thigh's veins.

Spring also brought me around to Windhand. I was incredibly late to this band, but when they finally clicked for me, I wanted to listen to little other than their giant-sized Sabbath riffs and sheets of mainly incomprehensible vocals. For now, I'm thrilled to binge on 2013's Soma, but I've tried the record that came out this year a time or two, and have found it pretty excellent. It will be there when I am ready for it.

Similarly, I discovered this year Oakland's own Abstracter, when a metal-looking dude at the coffee shop happened to be watching YouTube videos of them and my curiosity was engaged. It turns out that they're magnificently heavy and loud and slow, with occasional pretty moments that add breathing room. Both 2012's Tomb of Feathers and 2015's Wound Empire are great listens, with "Glowing Wounds" and "Ash" being my favorite songs, the best balanced between overwhelming volume / heaviness and flares of beauty.

The year's prettiest music came from Marriages, a band that evolved from my all-time favorite atmospheric instrumental metal band, Red Sparowes. Vaguely gothy, interestingly textured, and frequently rocking, this was my undisputed record of the year until October. Even if it did get dethroned, Salome was my year's most reliable inspiration for soft feelings, particularly on "skin", "love, Texas" and what would have been the song of my year in any normal year, "less than". Highest recommendation for anybody who is willing to mix their emotions with musical intensity.

By summer, the new Courtney Barnett album had come out, and it was as good as I had expected, if a little overproduced. Maybe the year's best record for singing along!

Summer continued poppy with Roman Cities' ep the Sharksleep Sessions. A great throwback pop-rock album by Kowloon Walled City (and Snailface, and other) bassist Ian Miller, this was the album I reached for when I wanted to feel heartened and vaguely 80s. Bonus points for the invocation of a very 80s neon-drenched version of the future in probably my favorite track, "just like water"! Other favorites were "memento" and "every time you fall".

Just as with Holy Mount, I continued to dig into the back catalog of previous HEAVY TUNE roundup appearer Verma. (Though Bandcamp sure doesn't make it easy to do that—nor do they seem to have a workable version of any other kind of "discoverability", unfortunately. Ah well.) Verma's album Salted Earth might be their best, and the liner notes they give you are definitely wonderful and worth reading.

Unsurprisingly, there was also plenty of Blue Öyster Cult in my year. I saw them for the first time and often went to bed to weirdo 80s stew Revölution by Night. Three of their best second-tier songs ("Shadow of California", "Shooting Shark" and "Take Me Away") with a couple of their worst-by-far ("Feel the Thunder" and "Let Go") with a fair bit of occasionally enjoyable filler, it was somehow an easy record to reach for, especially at bedtime.

As I was experimenting with my turntable, a couple Fucked Up records landed. I was completely "meh" on Glass Boys, including the not-as-gimmicky-as-it-sounds version with half-time drums—even that mild innovation left the songs sounding like forgettable outtakes rightfully clipped off of better, earlier albums—and thoroughly baffled by "Year of the Hare", but "California Cold" might be the single best song I have heard by the band.

Early in fall, I put myself on a no-buying-things diet, which I immediately broke to order Kowloon Walled City's new one, Grievances. I had just seen the band at the Hemlock, and the songs I had liked before had turned into songs I loved. The record is by far my record of the year. Nothing else sounded like this album, nothing else resonated like these songs. Where earlier KWC records seemed devoted to the art of unpleasant, unsettling riffs, this one creates entire landscapes of attenuated anxiety; the riffs are still there, and they hit as hard as ever, but now they embody and evoke a pained kind of endurance, in an aural space that's beautiful and devoted to pain in equal measure. For me, the best example is the title song, which was by a lot the year's best payoff to a hell of a setup.

That sustained me through the very end of the year. But in the last fortnight of 2015, some doors opened up and some air blew in. I was exposed to Okkervil River, and liked it immensely. (Sad that it took me 10 years to come around, but whatever.) "Black Sheep Boy", "Black", and "Westfall" made immediate impacts on me, with great pop melodies and spookier-than-I-expected lyrics. Very much the followup to Neutral Milk Hotel that I'd been needing for a long time.

And two great punk albums came in to abrade my ears a little bit, after two years of a lot of thick, dark gunk (Abstracter, Windhand, Solar Halos, Shooting Guns, etc.). G.L.O.S.S. made as great a punk record as everybody said, and sometimes you need a wonderful punk record to listen to. And Super Unison released a smash hit called "Photorealism" and a self-titled ep that got better every time I listened to it. High-energy and scathing, great music for breaking out of ruts and remembering to tell the cops inside and around us to get up against the wall.

Finally, Lemmy died. I pulled out Motörhead's No Sleep 'til Hammersmith, and for the fourth time in my life, nothing made more sense than Motörhead. Like when I was 16, buying a weird cassette at a truck stop on a Greyhound trip, and falling a little in love with pop numbers like "Dancing on Your Grave" and gruff filler like "Back on the Funny Farm" and world-historically great blues songs like "Killed by Death". Like when I was 24, feeling completely alone in the world and in a new town, and Lemmy growled from stage "don't forget about rock 'n' roll, man, it hasn't forgotten about you". Like when I was a couple years older, in the same town, but alone again, and the lyrics of "Stay Clean" were as true and important as any music ever would be. I wouldn't fetishize the man—caring about women and Jews make that impossible—but the songs can still work and remind us that the good past and the bad alike live on in our days. There's promise there, and responsibility.

—Fat, tired

P.S.: on consumption. I bought everything on this list except: Sleaford Mods, which I streamed until I decided I didn't like it enough to buy; "Salted Earth", which was a free download; Okkervil River (streaming on Spotify for now, paid to see them live); G.L.O.S.S. and Super Unison (streaming on Bandcamp for now). The Motörhead and BŐC albums I bought used, but I have paid to see both bands.