A Fool for Everyone
Though he, like many others, moved to New York City as soon as he could, Mike Bones is from New Jersey. Bloomfield, or Belleville, or maybe Bayonne. Somewhere around there—somewhere not far from a good view of the Manhattan skyline. You can hear it in his lyrics. Only a boy from New Jersey could write and sing a song called "Today the World Is Worthy of My Loathing."
Affectionately Melanie
I also picked this one up at Boomerangs. At the time, I knew nothing about Melanie Safka. Looking at the front cover, I must have immediately thought, hmm… psychedelic hippie music, or something like that. I also noticed that it was released by Buddah Records who I was familiar with for their work with Captain Beefheart and Rodriguez. Turning to the back, I was intrigued by Melanie's liner notes, which pretty much told me that this chick is crazy.
Babylon!
If you were to judge this album just by its cover, you might imagine the music inside to be weird and awesome. At least that's what I imagined. If you're like me, you'd be absolutely desitively right. Dr. John's Babylon is something else.
Between Heaven and Hell
As I searched through the new arrivals at the Princeton Record Exchange, I kept coming back to this album. I knew nothing about Oscar Brown Jr.—had never even heard of the guy—but the pain communicated in the album title and cover art intrigued me. Even if it turned out that I didn't like the music, I'd at least get an interesting piece of art. And for just four bucks!
Blackjack
Music has never made me cry. I have cried while listening to music, with something else on my mind. But music, by itself, while powerfully moving, has never brought me to tears. When others mention that a certain piece of music, or a specific musical performance, touches them so deeply that the tears flow from their eyes, I wonder what it is, exactly, that is happening. What are these people feeling? And why haven't I felt it?
Blood, Looms, and Blooms
Tighten the laces on your Vans and jump on your skateboard, strap on your helmet and hop on your scooter, pump some air into the tires of your cruiser, do whatever you have to do, dudes; Dash, sprint, leap, fly like Olympians to your nearest record shop and lay down the $19.99 for the new Leila Arab album.
Broken Hearts & Dirty Windows: Songs of John Prine
Whenever I’m at Tunes in Hoboken, getting my fingers all dirty on the vinyl LPs, I stop and stare at this one album, John Prine’s Sweet Revenge, and I wonder what it’s all about. Prine looks pretty bad-ass there in his convertible, decked out in so much blue denim, dark aviators over his eyes, a cigarette at his lips, the wind in his hair, legs crossed and flung out over the passenger side window like he’s seriously satisfied, like he really doesn’t care.
Cherish the Light Years
I resisted at first, but Cold Cave's Love Comes Close became one of my very favorite records of 2009. The album also led me to one of New York City's darkest, spookiest, and most welcoming record shops, Hospital Productions, a fantastic source of underground noise, industrial, and experimental work on CD, LP, and, good-god-almighty, cassette.
Cold Cave's new album, Cherish the Light Years will be available in similarly fine record shops on April 5th, but Matador Records has provided a free stream, so you can listen now.
Clouds Taste Metallic
It kind of happens intuitively, like breathing or crying or finding your way back home. Every year around this time, I scan my compact disc racks and watch as my hand reaches for The Flaming Lips' 1995 album, Clouds Taste Metallic. I put the disc in the player. I sit back. And I listen, and I remember.
Dark End of the Street
It was November 1999, in New Orleans. I had been on the road for almost a month, traveling on my own aboard Amtrak trains. I had a rail pass that allowed me to get on and off wherever I pleased. That freedom was great, but I became terribly lonely. Part of the deal was I had to make at least two stops in Canada. So, I went from New York City to Rochester to Niagara Falls and then up to Montreal, Quebec City, Ottawa, and Toronto. All the while reading crazy shit like Pauline Reage's Story of O or Henry Miller's Quiet Days in Clichy, meeting beautiful people, falling in love with perfect strangers a hundred times a day, discovering wonderful new places and then leaving almost as soon as some hint of a connection was made.