November 2004 Archives

DUDES, day 3. We are deep. Some might say we are too deep, but I look at those people and laugh, and say "Sometimes, buddy, you just have to dig THAT deep." I feel like this is good for me and like part of my destiny to write this in depth thing about this band. I know that sounds cliched and stupid, but that's how this awesome life is sometimes, cliched and stupid...STUPID AWESOME.

We left after Guided by Voices had released two of the greatest albums of the 1990s and had become one of the biggest and most talked about bands in the indie rock world. The expectations were raised for these middle aged midwesterns and to step up their game GBV decided that they would record their heavily anticipated follow up to Alien Lanes in a big studio, the first time in three plus albums that they had recorded outside of their basements. They headed to a Tennessee studio with Pixie and Breeder, Kim Deal, who had been a big proponent of the band. The Breeders had appeared in GBV's "Shocker in Gloomtown" video, Deal and Pollard had done a duet of the classic tune "Love Hurts" for a soundtrack, and Pollard had written a song for The Amps (Deal's weird sorta post Breeders band) surprisingly awesome Pacer disc, that somehow went uncredited (even though the song, "I Am Decided," is obviously a Pollard penned gem). So, they hit the studio with first time producer (except for her own records) and record an albums worth of material. There is some speculation that it wasn't the best of times, because fairly soon after that both sides stopped having nice things to say to one another. They had a record from these sessions, but Pollard who always goes through tons of versions of records wasn't quite pleased and so the dudes went up to Chicago and recorded with that Albini dude, you know...In Utero and junk. They did a bunch of recording with that guys, and the record had to be ready at point right. Well, as has happened quite often with GBV records, Pollard hits a last minute batch of inspiration and a ton of new songs come out right before the record is supposed to come out. To record this new batch of songs GBV hit Cro Magnon Studios in Dayton and produced the material themselves. Cro Magnon would become a second home for Pollard throughout the following years, a place where he became very comfortable and so much of his best stuff came from that place. Under the Bushes Under the Stars was finally completed and released. The album was received with mixed reviews. It is a very different album that Bee Thousand and Alien Lanes, and because of this some people rejected it. It is now looked back on by most as a wonderful album. It is a progression in songwriting as all the songs are a bit more crafted. Even the shorter songs which were previously just lost fragments are now short complete songs. The album doesn't have the energy and hyperactivity of the previous two albums, that is to its detriment but also its benefit. One odd thing about the album is that on the back cover there are only 18 tracks listed, but on the cd 24 songs play. The last 6 songs are not listed for some reason, 5 of which are either Deal or Albini produced tracks. It's weird. Out of the rest of the there are only 3 or 4 more Deal or Albini tracks. The Deal tracks are some of the best. She is responsible for "The Official Ironman Rally Song," which was the first single, and other great gems like "Sheetkickers," which just oozes Kim Deal's production. Under the Bushes Under the Stars was not the success at the time as the previous two albums, but deserves as much attention.

The next project for the GBV dudes was solo albums from Robert Pollard and Tobin Sprout to be released on the same day by Matador. I'm not really sure how these albums came about and I would be really interested in finding out because the idea of the albums started a fair amount of speculation, as two seperate albums will (ie Outkast), about the band's future. Robert Pollard's Not In My Airforce and Tobin Sprout's Carnival Boy made things clear about what GBV really was, as Pollard's album sounded like the interesting ever changing and incredibly dinstinct beast that is GBV, and Sprout's album sounded like...well...it sounded like indie rock of the everyday variety. Actually, Carnival Boy is a pretty solid album, and definitely worth listening to, but it just doesn't have near as interesting as on Not In My Airforce which is actually one of my favorite Pollard works ever. Top 5 Pollard releases (including GBV releases) and that is saying something with this dude. It is full of hits, and then when you think the album is over after 15 great songs then Pollard threw on 8 really weird off key acoustic songs. So weird, but somehow it works.

A great Guided by Voices EP followed the two solo albums. Sunfish Holy Breakfast is a great album for anyother band, as it is 10 great songs all putting forth a specific mood. The EP opens with a scant few dudes clapping and cheering for "ONE MORE!! ONE MORE!" That's what the dudes got, as this one more EP was the last GBV release for the "Classic Lineup" of Sprout, Mitchell, Fennell. Sunfish Holy Breakfast has the perfect vibe for a last release, some sad songs, one truly triumphant songs ("If We Wait"), and it goes out with a beautiful whimper.

The speculation was correct, or maybe the speculation helped prove itself correct, you know, like fed the fire. Some people think Pollard broke up the band because he was feeling insecure about the band and wanted everyone to know it was his band. Others think that Sprout/Mitchell/Fennell weren't really in for the long haul and didn't have the committment that Pollard did about making it a career and doing the band all the time. Either way about it, the breakup was truly a shock to the system. It seemed so weird as a fan. Those dudes were all we knew since we had really only known the band for 3 or 4 years, but Pollard had been doing the band for a solid 14 years at that point, and only with those guys for like 5, so it was a big deal, but the band existed before, and it could exist afterwards. And now, knowing what has happened since it surely doesn't seem like nearly as big of a deal as it was at the time, but it really seemed weird. The word was that he had replaced the dudes with the members of a band from Cleveland called Cobra Verde.

Mag Earwhig hit in May of '97. It was clear that this was a different GBV. The band sounded different. The band looked different. These guys looked like rock'n'rollers as to where those old dudes just looked like dudes. It was a little alienating at first. Was Pollard abandoning what made him so interesting, his everydudeness?? The album was a rocker, seriously, hard rock. The songs were longer, the riffs were riffier, it was more driving rock. It was still Pollard, though, the melodies were there, the words were weird, and there was feeling. In fact, the press release for this album proclaims that Mag Earwhig is a rock opera, I didn't see that promoted too much beyong that press release, because it would be incredibly hard to actually interpret the narrative of the opera for reviewers, but it follows the Magnificent Earwhig on some great rock quest. Pollard showing that he was not a ruthless band dictator like some had been claiming had "I am a Tree" as one of the album's singles which was a song written by new band member Doug Gillard. The album, has some great tracks and I would still recommend it, but it is not one of GBV's standouts.

Later in the year, GBV released an album just to their fanclub called Tonics and Twisted Chasers which was something that Pollard and Sprout recorded just the two of them and a drum machine in '95 I believe. It's an interesting artifact from those two and has some great songs on it, like "Key Losers," "Ha Ha Man," and the "Unbaited Vicar of Scorched Earth." The album has a real dead sound of just direct distorted guitar and weird noise and a crummy drum machine. Man, it's good.

The next year was fairly quiet for GBV as '98. Waved Out, a new Pollard solo album, was the only release of note. Waved Out was the most independent Pollard had ever been making a record. He recorded the vast majority of it on his own. It's a really sorta druggy damaged album, moreso than any other Pollard release. The retarded strut and swagger of "Whiskey Ships" is really awesome, and the passage that follows with "Wrinkled Ghost," "Artificial Light," and "People Are Leaving," is probably the most vulnerable lyrics Pollard had written to date. "People Are Leaving" is a bit of foreshadowing of Pollard's collaborations like his albums with Doug Gillard, Go Back Snowball, and more where he takes people's songs and writes and records melodies on top. "People Are Leaving" was a song written by Stephanie Sayers (whoever that is) and Pollard wrote and recorded 2 different very distinct melodies on top of the songs. It's really stunning. Waved Out is a really idiosyncratic record.

A few very productive but change filled years for Guided by Voices ending with the relatively quiet 1998. Why was it so quiet, probably because GBV was negotiating deals, because by the end of the year they would be signed to TVT Records, a major label(well, technically not one of the huge conglomerates but a mega indie that acts like a major label). Blaspheme, you say. Blaspheme. Well, we will see won't we, but how can a band be The Greatest Band of All Time and not be on a major label. Every great dictator needs an empire.

It happened, dudes, I saw Guided by Voices for the last time ever. It was really incredible. It felt good. It felt right. They played the classics, the unknown classics, and some songs I had never seen them play before. Something I feel like I should mention was that during one of the songs, I can't remember what it was but there was a lyric saying something like "and nobody is feeling it anymore" and then Pollard added in "not even REM." Now, mind you, Pollard is known for his ridiculous band bashing on stage, and no one should really take it seriously. Most of the time I think he is just trying to give the fans something to laugh about and an interesting show. This statement felt much more signifigant to me though. He is usually so flippant and not respectful at all, but that statement represents a feeling of respect and sadness that his old heroes have hit the skids. Probably a reason for ending GBV, even though Pollard won't admit to it, is that he is sick of hearing critics reporting in negatively on new albums and comparing then to their so-called golden period. So, he made a album that he felt really strongly about (this years' Half Smiles of the Decomposed) and got out -- a decision I respect immensely.

What is this golden period that these critics are always going on about, you may ask? Well, we left off right as the golden period was beginning. Guided by Voices had just made their best record to date, Propeller, in which Pollard had planned to end the band after due to lack of interest and pressure from family about the band taking away from his responsibilities. Something weird happened, though, they finally started to get some attention. Some of the 500 copies of Propeller got to some influential people and suddenly a few people had heard of this weird band from Dayton, OH. Matt Sweeney of the band Chavez became a big supporter of the band and tried to find the band a label, because up to this point every record they had made was self released. A small record label, Scat Records, decided to take a show on these already aging rockers (by this time Pollard was already 35 or 36 years old), and then the deluge began. In the next few years Guided by Voices would record hundreds of songs, armed with a new confidence and someone else to pay the bills for the records.

The first Guided by Voices release not on their own dime was The Grand Hour EP. The EP came in early 93 and was the first thing I heard from Guided by Voices, after I found it on 7" in my favorite local music store, Soundsationswhich has the nicest owners, Pete and Lee) and bought it without ever hearing the band. It was alienating and weird. It still sounds really weird. All the short weird blasts, weird noises, songs with other songs ontop, sorta freaked me out. The Grand Hour includes what is possibly the greatest rock'n'roll song of all time "Shocker in Gloomtown," another great one entitled "Break Even," and the first Tobin Sprout only penned song "Off the Floor." GBV started messing around with using 4 tracks and 8 tracks instead of the same old studio process on Propeller and they took this deeper on The Grand Hour. This is the sound of a band really coming into it's own. Another interesting thing about The Grand Hour is how you start to see Robert Pollard's tactic of using parts of songs and lyrics more than once. "Break Even" opens with the first 10 seconds or so of another track, which we later would find out to be "Hot Freaks" that appeared in full on Bee Thousand. Two of the tracknames on The Grand Hour later on become album titles, "Bee Thousand," and "Alien Lanes." This tactic, re-use of titles and sounds, might not work in other context, but with this band and this incredibly prolific songwriter it adds this cohesion to his body of work as a whole. It also lends a little bit of insight into Pollard's creative process, as it makes the albums and songs feel like grand collages made up of cute up words and sounds and ideas, which is a really interesting way of going about making music.

Vampire on Titus quickly followed on the heels of The Grand Hour and was the 1st full length GBV released on Scat Records. The band went all the way with the 4 track vibes and a lot of the album is a little toned down as far as instrumentation. Many songs are guitar and vocals alone, but that is not a bad thing as this album really allowed the band to become comfortable producing their own stuff. This was also around the time that the band's core of Robert Pollard, Jim Pollard, Tobin Sprout, Mitch Mitchell, Greg Demos, and Kevin Fennell became more solid as they band started to play live shows towards the end of the year for the first time in about 6 years. A somber album, Vampire on Titus, is really good, but ultimately a stepping stone to what was to come. The entire Propeller album was added on after Vampire on the first pressing of the CD, making it Propeller's debut on CD format.

Another EP, Static Airplane Jive, quickly followed and is a bit forgettable, but even GBV's forgettable releases contain at least one or two amazing songs. Then, the bomb dropped.

Bee Thousand was released on June 20, 1994. Man, I can't believe I didn't have a tenth anniversary party this year. There should be parties thrown every year to celebrate this album. It's just simply genius. It IS my favorite album of all time. With near 100 songs considered for this album, it must have been magic or some diving force that led Pollard to pare it down to the 20 songs that are just flat out perfect for this album. It wouldn't be the same if any of the 20 songs weren't on this album. The album is sadly triumphant, thrashy yet warm, and full of amazing songs. I bought this album in late 94, and I liked it, but it really didn't click with me until 96, strangely enough. Even though there are a few songs on the album that I may not like on their own, they work so well on this album. All of the ideas and songs on this album seem to be developed to their exact potential, whether that be creating the absolute greatest pop song of all time in "Echos Myron," the intensely insane "Her Psychology Today," or the wonderfully quirky "Kicker of Elves." Pollard's lyrics are a strange combination of sincere interpersonal analysis and observation mixed with somewhat surreal wordplay.

Tractor Rape Chain - "why is it every time i think about you/something that you have said or implied makes me doubt you/then i look into your cynical eyes and i know it/as if it never meant anything to me/parallel lines on a slow decline - tractor rape chain/better yet, let's all get wet on the tractor rape chain/speed up, slow down, go all around in the end"

Tobin Sprout also steps up to the plate on this album with four really good songs as well. Tobin's songwriting was played up a little to much in the mid 90s as a lot of Lennon/McCartney relationship between Pollard and Sprout, but it was always much for like Pollard was both Lennon and McCartney and Sprout was Harrison. Sprout wrote some good songs, but the Pollard great song to Sprout great song was always like eight to one. Please don't get me wrong, I really enjoy Tobin and he has even released some killer solo material.

The album, released on Scat, was met with gobs of praise, and it was doing really well. So well that Guided by Voices was offered a deal with big time indie label Matador records. Matador re-issued Bee Thousand and signed onto release their next few albums. This was a huge step for the band. They weren't unknown school teachers, auto workers, painters from Dayton, Ohio anymore. Guided by Voices was now one of the most talked about bands in indie rock. Back to Bee Thousand, though, let me just say 20 songs, 36 minutes, 1 perfect album.

Three more EPs: Get Out of My Stations, Clown Prince of the Menthol Trailer, and Fast Japanese Spin Cycle all were also released in 1994. Each of them have some gems on them. Fast Japanese Spin Cycle is the best of the three, and it really stands up with the best of their releases.

How could they follow up Bee Thousand, an album that was being universally accepted? How could they come back with something with something that would keep the public interested?? "Easy," replied Bob Pollard, he of course had a truck load of songs, and had a new album ready for released in less than a year. It was Alien Lanes that followed up Bee Thousand, and somehow they came back with an album that was as well received as their breakthrough album. Some people even think Alien Lanes is better than Bee Thousand, and I would definitely put it in the same class. It is a more spastic, hyperactive, short attention span album as it is chock full of 30 second songs of odd blasts. There are also an equal amount of fully developed pop gems on the album. It is an exciting listen to say the least. The 28 songs go by so quickly and each song leaves you wondering what is going to come next. Having so many great songs like "Motor Away," "My Valuable Hunting Knife," "A Salty Salute," and "Game of Pricks" and so many more it makes for a classic.

By this team Guided by Voices had started touring heavily again, including a stint on the 2nd stage at Lollapalooza. The band was becoming known for their excellent live shows and a cult following was starting to develop. They had created two of the best records of the 90s in everyone's opinion. Guided by Voices was one of the biggest names in indie rock. Would they come back with another classic? What could they do from here? Guided by Voices was about to enter a hard period full of changes, but for now they were without a doubt The Greatest Band of All Time.

Stay tuned up next: Under The Bushes Under The Stars, Mag Earwhig, and the solo career begins.

*note: even more mp3s today. all the mp3s are in chronological order. i tried to give you full passages from Bee Thousand and Alien Lanes to give you a feel for those albums. enjoy. Also, don't be scared many of the songs are very short.

Tonight I will see my favorite band play live for the last time. They will have 6 shows left after tonight, but this is it for me. It's been something like 15 or so live shows, 50 plus CDs, probably around 1000 songs. It's weird when you are forced to stop being obsessive about something. It's not like I don't understand why it's ending, and I'm not as obsessive as I once was, and Robert Pollard will continue to make music, but it's still a big deal. It's the end of an era in my life. So, for the next five days on GBOAT we will go through this bands career in painstainking detail and look at why they are the only one, the only and actual true Greatest Band of All Time. I'm going to go chronoligacally through the band(and Robert Pollard)'s musical history, and give you the extended primer. Today will be from conception (84 through Propeller in '92).

I know what you are saying/thinking...five days on these old washed up drunk, non sensical, rehash hack job artists that put out 2 good records in the mid 90s. My response to that is: what good has professing a cliched negative every boring music critic opinion ever done for anybody. This band/man has soo many more brilliant songs than anyone else in the world. This band is the epitome of rock n roll. They play for 3 hours every night, people chant their name, they have insanely rabid fans, they whip people into a frenzy, they play loud, sometimes sloppy, everyone sings along, and they party hard.

In so many ways Robert Pollard is like the dreams of every rock n roll fan. He's just some dude from a midwestern town (just outside of Dayton, OH) who was obsessed with music and record collecting. He thirsted for knowledge about bands in his town where he felt like nothing was going on. In school he made up fictional bands and drew album covers and made logos and t shirts for his bands that would never exist. He kinda knew how to play guitar and he sorta wrote songs. All of the rock fantasies just seemed like pipe dreams. He did start to play in some bands (a metal band called Anacrusis) and eventually started writing and recording his own music. He made his fake band, it was called Guided by Voices. He went to college, got a job teaching school, got married, and had some kids. He made some albums but they never got out of Dayton, Ohio. They played some shows early in the early 80s, but pretty much stopped playing live. They were still basically a fantasy band. So, how did it happen that a man in his late 30s became an icon in indie rock and has for the last 10 years consistently toured, been on a major label, and generally lived the life of an indie rock star. It seems like the stuff that Disney movies about aging pitchers who finally make it to the big leagues are made out of.

Guided by Voices started in 83 or 84, who really knows, I mean that was like 20 years ago. They started playing house shows in the living rooms and playing local bars to scant crowds. They stopped playing live around 87, I believe, and didn't play live again till 92 or 93. So, for the bands first ep and 5 albums this band was like this hidden secret. Seriously, no one knew. This is the period I am looking at today. The band's first release was the ep Forever Since Breakfast in 1986. I did not hear this ep until a couple years ago, because it wasn't reissued in Box, the box set that reissued the first 4 full lengths. A solid debut, but no amazing songs. It sounds like mid 80s indie rock music. It shows the first hints of Pollard's REM obsession that is pretty prevelant over the first few albums. There is some great melodies, and the stand out track has to be "Like I Do," which is the prettiest melody on the album but is covered in a layer or two of sounds of people talking and some other indinstinguishable noises. It is foreshadowing of Pollard not being afraid to use noise and non traditional recording styles to add texture and warmth to his recordings.

The Box was released in 1995 by scat records and was 5 cds comprised of GBV's first four albums along with a 5th disc of unreleased material. In my early GBV obsessed days I would eye Box lovingly in the record store, and I got it as a birthday present from a friend in 1997. It was so daunting but I waded through this old weird material. The experience was incredibly rewarding though, as some amazing songs exist on those albums and it felt like my favorite kind of history lesson.

Two albums were released in 1987, first was Devil Between My Toes, Guided by Voices' debut full length. It is a fairly dark and rugged affair. More a weird dark rock record than a pop record, Devil Between the Toes is sorta reminiscent of some of the weirder more recent Pollard stuff like Chereographed Man of War or the Circus Devils albums. Sandbox followed later in the year, and is a much different record than Devil Between My Toes. Sandbox is the most studio feeling of the early records. All of the early records were recorded in a studio and have a not so attractivity naivity when it comes to the production of them. The record is much lighter and poppier than the previous, and it probably the most REM influenced GBV record. Pollard hadn't even found his true voice that is so recognizable and at times sounds like a different man. Sandbox also has a little flavor of Husker Du. It's a weird record, but sometimes can sound so awesome.

Self Inflicted Aerial Nostalgia is the best of the bunch of the first four albums. It was released in 1989 and it definitely contains more great songs and feels more solid, the production is still a little goofy, but as an album is works pretty dern well. It has some classic numbers like "Chief Barrel Belly," which even though marred by some raunchy tones plays out something like a Little Wings' "Faith Children" with it's repeatable/chantable uplifting chorus of positivity. It seems like the best tracks on these early albums, like the beautiful "Liar's Tale" on this album, are the ballad type jams, because they are the least adorned and the beautiful songwriting can be the focus without getting gunked up by some regrettable production. "An Earful of Wax" is an epic jam that ends in a guitar solo that is Dino Jr. in nature, which is an amazing compliment.

The 4th LP released by Guided by Voices, and the final one included in Box is Same Place the Fly Got Smashed. This 1990 album was Pollard's attempt at a concept record. The album is engaging, but not a revolution, and the concept is sorta hard to grasp. It has something to do with someone being killed, and the trial and someone being electrocuted, but maybe every song doesn't have a role in the narrative, who knows. Accordingly, the number of killer songs continue to rise.

At this point, the band has been Pollard and a rotating cast including names like Eric Payton, Don Thrasher, Eric Comstock, and more GBV associated names like Jim Pollard, Mitch Mitchell, and Tobin Sprout, but it certainly has not been the "classic line-up" that people refer to of Pollard, Sprout, Mitchell, Demos, and Fennell. The band had gone through 4 albums and 1 ep wth literally no success, as defined by financial success or critical praise. It must have all seemed pretty pointless. They were getting no feedback other than a few friends and family. Therefore, Robert Pollard decided that their next album would be the last. He was feeling pressure from family members that this hobby was too expensive and not healthy for his family life. He wanted to make one more album, his last great one, so he collected all his great songs and went to make a record.

Propeller was originally only released in an edition of 500 LPs all with unique hand done covers, a truly special was to go out as a band. Something weird happened, though, because some of those 500 copies starting to get into the hands of influential people like Matt Sweeney of Chavez and Thurston Moore. GBV started to get just the teeniest, cutest amount of buzz. Why did this happen now? Was it just persistence or was it an accident or a fluke?? No way, Propeller was a huge leap for leap for the band. the first album where Pollard truly found his vocal vibe, and the productions are much better, and the songs are really all classics. The album opens with what sounds like a pretty large crowd chanting "GBV! GBV! GBV! GBV!" It seems like a cheap ploy, but it really works and gets you pumped. The album features the band's most driving and powerful rock anthems so far, with the epic opener "Over the Neptune/Mesh Gear Fox," and the punk "Exit Flagger," and equally as powerful but in a haunting way songs like "14 Cheerleader Coldfront," which is the first collaboration between Pollard and Tobin Sprout. It is the 1st album that really feels like a classic GBV album that could be identified as GBV as a casual fan. The band started to get a little attention from a few labels (up until this point the band had been releasing the albums themselves) and a few more reviews for the album. Soon thereafter to band agreed to work with Scat records. I believe GBV played their first live show in forever not too long after this at CMJ. They drove to New York just for the show, and Pollard was so nervous for the show he had to get real drunk to do it, and that started that tradition in the band. Propeller is a true turning point for the band, and maybe their biggest stepping stone to their soon to come fame.

5 albums. 1 ep. Over one hundred songs. GBV had been plugging away for years and they were on the brink of something huge. They were soon to become The Greatest Band of All Time.

note: sorry for the overwhelming amount of mp3s, but it's my favoirte band and it's been so hard just to whittle it down to this many. they have soo many songs, so trust me, these are good ones.

Stay tuned...tomorrow: Vampire on Titus, Bee Thousand, Alien Lanes, and a bunch of eps.

It's hard to be an American punk band. Well, maybe not now, but it has been for a while. The British have just seemed sexier for all these years, especially among the music literati and its hard not to believe they were. The post-punk Brits were art college educated, schooled in fashion, philosophy, history, and design, and all under a Social Democratic government, if in decline, with liberal unemployment policies. They also had one important commodity: the fading flame of the Sex Pistols to warn and guide them. How did a band like Minor Threat ever have a chance to secure any kind of legacy with folks like Greil Marcus, Lester Banks, or Robert Christgau flying the anglophile punk flag?

It might be because the band won the peoples' hearts. The hearts of the angsty youth looking for a cause or an ethic to believe in. Maybe its because I first heard about this band on a homemade patch sewn on a friend's baseball hat, because this band inspires in people that devotion, long after their demise. But if you stopped listening to Minor Threat when you stopped buying new trucks for your skateboard, then listen up, or just listen again and flex your head.

Started out of the ashes of the shambolic Teen Idles, Ian MacKaye and Jeff Nelson continued to release records on their Dischord label, a DIY effort that started in 1980 after the demise of their old band. Culled into the ranks of the new effort was Lyle Preslar and young bass prodigy Brian Baker. After releasing an initial LP of 8 short songs and an EP to the excitement of early US punk pioneers, the band, augmented by a bassist that allowed Baker to play second guitar recorded their final full length record, Out of Step.

For anyone who would decry the band as the progenitors of meathead thrash, the LP is a confusing document. Production tricks like the dub-like drop out and drum delay on, "Look Back and Laugh" and a more sophisticated approach to songwriting and arranging is evidenced on songs like, "Little Friend," "Think Again," and the uncredited, "Cashing In." The jangle and angularity of British post-punk is all over this record, along with the subtle influence of dub reggae brought to the band no doubt by the ever potent Bad Brains. This influence can be attributed to the band's rabid fandom of punk and post-punk musics, along with the guidance of older allies like record store owner Skip Groff and engineer Don Zientara. Besides covering Wire's "12XU" early on in their career, Out of Step, despite being the ground zero for the increasingly watered down "Straight Edge" philosophy, shows debts to Gang of Four, the Buzzcocks, PiL, and Magazine, if you listen for it. And why not? If all it takes to be post-punk in Britain is attendance at an early Sex Pistols show and subsequent band formation, is it any less valuable that Minor Threat had to substitute the Pistols spectacle for that of the Cramps, or equally flooring Bad Brains?

So fuck what you've heard. If the fusing of British punk and post punk bands with the critical youth energy of the then burgeoning US DIY music movement is uninteresting to those who were there to write about it in weekly publications, great. If anyone is willing to dismiss the whole of Minor Threat's efforts as derivative based on their own copyists, then too bad. For those who really listen to this band there is a rich reward in seeing and hearing history as a interdependent rather than linear.

I'm just asking, even if you think this band belongs on the backpack of a 13 year old rather than in your understated and erudite record collection, just give it a listen, one listen and really hear how it works. Isn't that enough for the Greatest Band of All Time?

Russell Jonese aka Ol' Dirty Bastard aka Dirt McGirt aka Big Baby Jesus died today. One of the "Greatest" has fallen. Truly a gift to this earth. He gave us the grimiest, filthiest, sickest raps of all time. He was an all the way free dude even though he spent many days in prison or house arrest. He will always be remembered. We love you forever Big Baby Jesus.

In another addition of knowledge worn thin, Greatest Band of All Time contributor Zac Pennington makes his stumbling way toward one of the world's most respected contemporary avant- musicians--only to completely ignore his sprawling discography excepting that of his three pop albums. Go figure.

So, sure--Jim O'Rourke has been doing his experimental bit for a long ass time over 8 million-zillion weird cassette releases or whatever, used to be in Gastr del Sol and Brice Glase, has played with or produced or mixed just about every one of your favorite bands/musicians (among them Red Krayola, Wilco, U.S. Maple, Tony Conrad, Faust, Smog, Melt Banana, GBV, Scissor Girls, Brainiac, Merzbow, Lake of Dracula, John Fahey, Will Oldham, Jesus Lizard, Stereolab, Superchunk, The Pastels, and Nancy Sinatra), was the musical consultant on School of Rock, and is now an official member of Sonic Youth. GRANTED. But as usual, our story begins and ends with my particular interest in the man's body of work--beginning in 1999 and ending in 2001--the years that bookend the releases of Eureka and insignificance.

Following the release of Camoufleur, O'Rourke ended his tenure with Gastr del Sol to again focus his attentions on solo works--a decision no-doubt influenced by his initial collaboration with Sonic Youth on the third installment of that band's impossible SYR series. the resulting album, the unexpectedly pop explosion of Eureka, is where our hero graduates in my mind from a name constantly thrown about amongst my post-rock-obsessed high school friends to an inspired musical presence. In spite of its lagging bits, Eureka is among the greatest pop statements of the 1990s, dropped just as the decade was waving goodbye. maintaining a good deal of the more ethereal mire of Gastr, Eureka finds O'Rourke heavily mining (and miming) the works of Van Dyke Parks, O'Rourke's oft-touted pop hero. The record's immediate stand outs seem to be its covers--the first an endless version of Ivor Cutler's brief "Women of the World," the second a carefully kitschy take on Bacharach's "Something Big"--but with careful consumption, it's clear that the clever spite of the originals are what make it so special. especially O'Rourke's lyrics. Eureka's words show signs of obvious toil, as in "Ghost Ship in a Storm," which begins Nothing makes me want to disappear/As when someone opens their mouth, followed another couplet of the melody repeated in tight-lipped hum. very smart. or "Movie On the Way Down"'s buried beauty: There's that word again: Pride/Do you pride yourself on being/Polite?/Do you feel pride when you're alone?/Does the mirror say good day, today?/Does your family make you feel pride?/Do the pictures keep you warm?/Is your/smile so easily worn?/Worn away/Do you feel proud?

in short, Eureka is really good. Following Eureka, O'Rourke released yet another pop record--the four song Halfway to a Threeway--which served to further punctuated his sadistic and morose persona. Halfway may rate as perhaps my favorite of O'Rourke's pop records, as its brevity eliminates a good deal of the others' unnecessary wankery.

the Final of the O'Rourke trilogy (so far, anyway), 2001's Insignificance, is perhaps the most straightforward of the three. Due in some degree to Jeff Tweedy's (Wilco) work on the project, the record is a rock record through and through--slathered in its own oddly Southern drawl. The successes therein out weight the faults, though its strongest moments are less about the music, and more of O'Rourke's lyrical maturation.

Then he joined Sonic Youth. and with his new day job, it's difficult to predict if and when he'll finish another pop record of his own (there have been reports of a new record on Drag City's website for forever), but obsessives can take solace in his Loose Fur collaboration with Tweedy from a few years back--or in his subtle additions to the decline of sonic youth. Or maybe--just maybe--you can start listening to the rest of his expansive and respected catalog. As for me, I'm just gonna listen to the records that made him the Greatest Band of All Time.

in footnote: I once met Jim O'Rourke at a convenience store in Seattle the evening after a Sonic Youth performance, but was too high on over-the-counter amphetamine to really remember the transaction. I do remember throwing up in the street some minutes later after I left his company. He seemed sort of freaked out. the end.

The Songwriter. What a daunting prospect. I would like to humbly consider myself a songwriter. I really would. But simple long division makes it a difficult stake to claim. When I think of songwriters--largely the ones that I admire anyway--I think of those haunted by a need to write words; an inherent desire that reveals itself in a prolific body of work. As a person who takes great pain in the songwriting process, I take comfort in the relatively scant catalog of one of my favorite songwriters--one Brian McMahan--the quality of who's discography is largely aided by its scantness.

Despite McMahan's fundamental involvement with two of the most sweepingly influential bands Louisville ever produced (that of Squirrel Bait and Slint), my loyalties--however ridiculously--have always been firmly entrusted in McMahan's less-deified ensemble of late, the enigmatic For Carnation. With less than 10 songs recorded in their first five years of their existence (over two EPs and a compilation appearance here and there), the For Carnation somehow managed to be placed comfortably among the upper escalon of my CD collection.

With Fight Songs and Marshmallows, McMahan and Co. (including the likes of such post-rock royalty as David Pajo, Doug McCombs, and John Herndon) fashioned some of indie rock's most simple and delicate compositions--songs so stark and beautiful that they were scarcely even there. Minimal voice and guitar arrangements that were anything but folk, the first two For Carnation releases expanded on the less muscular moments of Slint's classic Spiderland (think "good morning, captain" or "washer")--but of even wispier design.

In 2000, The For Carnation finally made their "full-length" debut with a six-song self-titled release. The record maintained the somber cast of the band's previous releases, though largely abandoning their subdued soundscape. Despite being a regular who's who of then-modern indie rock (with guest spots by Kim Deal, John McEntire, Rachel Haden, and Britt Walford, among others), The For Carnation forwent the subtle brilliance of the band's early works for more straightforward post-rock jam-outs--essentially eclipsing all the good that came before it in one wanky swoop. That was the last we heard of the For Carnation.

Still, the original EPs remain beautiful capsules of a time when Brian McMahan and his For Carnation, over the course nary a dozen songs, were very briefly--yet very definitively--the Greatest Band of All Time.

Sometimes your friends go on tour and when they come back from tour they have amased some neat musics from their travels. They might pick up a really neat mix CD from New Orleans full of their distinctive rap called Bounce. Maybe they got a weird demo from some cool dudes in Dekalb, IL or got some cool recordings of whales from a very chill hippie street vendor on Venice Beach. You like this. New weird stuff from places is awesome, and sometimes these CDs are really awesome and you cannot stop listening to them, but sometimes your friends forget where they get things from and have no information to help you figure out where this music is from and how you can get more of it. It's true--the character of "you" in my hypothetical is in actuality me in real life. My friends Adam and Jona bring me good stuff, and last year they brought back MP3s of a CD that were just marked "Mexican Dancehall" and "Fleamarket." Searches upon searches have turned up nothing. I now turn to you, the public, as I am desperate for information. I need for music like this. I need to be able to appropriate the adulation that I am holding onto right now.

This image is not the cover of the CD. I just needed an image, because what would a Greatest Band entry be without an image. This image is for a mix cd of the dancehall riddim entitled Mexican, which is sorta related but definitely not what I'm looking for. Fleamarket is packed with 29 hot jams that don't really fall in line with any genres or sub genres of music and more specifically dancehall I've heard before. While the beats are definitely within the Dancehall realm with its off kilter slap tap style they are topped with Spanish rapping or toasting. Wait, you say, by that description this must be reggaeton music, right? I don't think so, it doesn't have the same feel of reggaeton. It feels more free and party than reggaeton as the disc is filled with samples of 80s new wave plus 80s and 90s rap jams and also sorta has that slow moving double decker bus blaring house music vibe like the Vengaboys or something. It's totally irressitible. I think that is how I'm describing music I love these days: irressitible. It's a great quality. So, yeah, if anybody knows anything about this CD or what this music is, please let a dude know, until then all I know about Fleamarket is that this mix CD that I know so little about is the Greatest Band of All Time.

Carey Mercer is always one feigned gasp away from hyperventilating. Wheezed and darting like an untied latex balloon, his voice slobberingly arrows toward strained falsetto with the frequency of his chord changes--which is to say, an awful lot. To describe Mercer's vocal affects as caterwauling would be a great disservice to the sheer ridiculousness of his delivery--a voice enough to propel at least three of the most refreshing records I've heard in a very long time.

The first time I heard Frog Eye's "One in Six Children Will Flee in Boats"--the song that leads off the Victoria, B.C. quartet's absolutely flawless sophomore effort The Golden River (which is, in my humblest of opinions, possibly the best record released last year)--I sort of panicked. It was about midday, and with nearly four hours left of my regular work day, I just got up from my desk and left. Walking a couple of miles to the nearest record store, I was denied in the "Misc. F" section, and thus hastily made my way to the next. Two stores later, I finally met my reward. My great reward.

The insular Canadian four-piece--who until recently were shrouded in the inadvertent secrecy of Northern Canada--have this year begun to fight for the larger spotlight with their Absolutely Kosher debut The Folded Palm and subsequent touring. Common convention has until recently pinned the band as a less than subtle Frankensteining of David Bowie (in its grandiose glow of pure aural redemption) and Tom Waits (for Mercer's impenetrable affectations and sonic self-mythology)--a description that, though accurate in spirit, is misleadingly marginalizing. With the release of The Folded Palm, however, the band has exploded the subtle, beautiful ephemera of their previous records in favor of short-bursting bombast. Clocking in just under a half hour, the 13 tracks of The Folded Palm find Mercer indulging his persona--attacking the music with affect turned up to 10. It's the closest he's come to capsizing the boat, but as usual, Frog Eyes has pulled off the impossible--transcending horror show gimmickry, and landing their third straight stroke of genius. And oh, yeah--total GBoAT.

In these most uncertain and dissapointing times I give you something from the heart.
This is one that I haven't been looking forward to writing. There are some bands that I just feel so intensely about that I could never write about it in an according way. It's so weird. I totally haven't written about my most special bands. Scared to do a dis-service to the band, to my memories, and also worried that my opportunity to get people pumped on something I care about so much would be wasted. What are you gonna do, though? The time has come. Spill your guts, Schrodo.

After a pretty crappy freshman year of high school where I floundered trying to find new friends in my new overwhelming hometown of Los Angeles, I entered my sophmore year with some more confidence. I decided that the drama scene was a much better vibe for me than some of the other scenes I flirted with freshman year (namely football). Those drama dudes were totally nice and didn't mind my incredibly awkward style. This one dude, Brandon, and I had totally being sorta flirting with a good friendship. You know that awesome time when you think you may really enjoy this person's company and then there is like usually one moment or topic or thing that makes you break the outer layers and gets you deep into awesome friendship?? It totally happened for my high school best friend, Brandon and I, because of Erasure. One day after school in the totally weird drama building across the school parking lot with no windows we both found ourselves belting out "Oh Lamour" by Erasure with wild abandon. So freeing and so pure! From that day on we were totally BFF!!! The love for Erasure for us went deep, seriously deep. We had this very awesome fictional band that was completely modeled after Erasure, called Cork where his name was Brandon Bell and I was Vince Schroeder (the members of Erasure are Andy Bell and Vince Clarke) involving us interviewing each other with full on British accents and Erasure rip off songs. Super special.

Vince Clarke has to be the greatest synth man in the history of synth men or women. Clarke was a founding member of Depeche Mode and the principal songwriter for their underappreciated first album Speak and Spell. Clarke then left the Depeche dudes to make two awesome records as Yaz with Alison Moyet. Yaz could certainly use their own GBoAT entry due to their amazing classics like "Only You" and "Don't Go," but we don't have the time for that now. Moyet left to do her solo thing, and Clarke was left without a project. He put adds in the paper looking for a vocalist, and he hit the jackpot with one Andy Bell. Andy Bell has a great voice, is a tad outlandish, and flat out lovable. Bell became one of their first truly visible openly gay performers when Erasure hit the scene in 1986, and therefore Erasure has always been a huge favorite in gay communities. Erasure certainly doesn't need any "angles" or "hooks" to be admired though, as they have been creating the best music that has ever been made. Erasure has been incredibly stable since their inception--no breakups (that we know of), no huge flops, or weird drugs problems(that we know of)--releasing 10 full albums and a mind boggling amount of singles and eps over the years. The album highlights have to be the Mercury award (British grammy) winning '88 release The Innocents, '94's undeniably joyful I Say I Say I Say which is Erasure absolutely perfecting their synth pop formula, and '95s more experiemental in terms of atmospherics and ever so slightly proggy eponymous album Erasure. Clarke and Bell have put out a few albums that weren't really up to snuff but there is always at least a couple songs that are amazing pop songs. It's an incredibly satisfying brand of relationship to have with a band.

Brandon and I saw Erasure perform live in '97 and it was amazing. Vince Clarke has this huge two story structure to house all of the electronics that they use. Clarke for some songs would just sit and stare at the audience away from his bohemoth structure and occasionally get up and walk over to the structure and adjust something. Bell was vibrant and sounded wonderful. The show was at the Universal Ampitheatre in LA (@ Universal Studios), and I have this amazing memory of just basking in the post show glow sitting outside the venue in the weird outdoor mall that surrounds the venue smoking the gayest cigarettes imaginable (Saratoga Menthol 120s). It was a sublime moment. It was maybe the pinnacle of Brandon and I's friendship. I've been away for years. I haven't seen him for a couple years. I miss my old friend, but at least I will always have Erasure, The Greatest Band of All Time.

Scout Niblett plays the drums like a third seat percussionist in 7th grade drum jazz ensemble. Which is to say, pretty poorly. And for a woman in her thirties, she could pretty easily pass for a junior high student. She's small, has a penchant for ratty, little girl wigs, and bellows like a kid on the playground. But it's little Emma Niblett who might just be the one to save the floundering ovarian-angst genre.

Growing up in Staffordshire, England, Emma Niblett moved to Nottingham when she was 19 to hit art school. The years between this and her new-found career nearly a decade later are relatively unaccounted from across the worldwide webulus, but somewhere between then and now Emma began going by the name of a character in To Kill a Mockingbird, and writing songs. Songs that became a record. A very good record.

2001's sweet heart fever introduced Niblett's distinctive vision--a fittingly fevered stammer of the felt and frantic. Which sounds like a big mess of journalistic prose. What I mean is, Scout makes music that actually feels like feelings do, knotted and nonsensical and dramatic and true. With her rudimentary drumming and big muff riffage, it's nearly impossible to tear Niblett's voice away from dry and rid of me era PJ Harvey (people who deny the similarity aren't fooling anyone), but the comparison is one of spirit as much as sound. And as those records are easily among the best of the last decade, Niblett is certainly in good company. SHF was followed up by the I Conjure Series ep, and later I Am, a remarkably cohesive effort.

Scout Niblett is one of the very few independent artists at present that actually seems to be cultivating a compelling persona with some staying power. Though the scope of her work is as of yet very limited, it's open-ended in such a way that keeps my eyes trained. I care about her and her work. I have an investment in it in a way I do with very few new artists. And if that don't qualify her for Greatest Band of All Time, I can't imagine what would.