Album Reviews

I haven't spun any lasses in a circle by the elbow in so long, I've almost forgotten the adolescent squee involved in such an innocent expression of glee. I haven't taken my shoes and socks off and walked up to the river's edge in longer than I can remember. (I have no beach, for I am midwestern) I haven't sat on wet grass without preparing it to meet my ass dry since leaving college for good. I haven't left the house without my wallet in years. I haven't felt the need to fucking forget what commonly fucking concerns me in fucking years. I'm as chill as they come, but even I am obsessed with being prepared at all times. I have a wallet, a cell phone, Chapstick, two pocket knives, two bandanas, at least 4 guitar picks of different thicknesses, and maybe even a piece of Uncle Fuzzy's...

EDIT: You people do realize I'm Irish no? Take a fucking joke. Oh the Irish. What a lousy bunch of shitbirds. You feel for them for a number of reasons: prone to addiction, weirdly fascinated and mind-controlled by potatoes, often very very pale, normally completely impossible to understand when they speak because they are genetically born with larger tongues... shit I could go on here. But the Whatmans man. They're my new favorite band from Ireland. Further proof that Irishies will do anything to get off that god forsaken rock so many of our ancestors called a homeland so many years ago. This album Fire Up The Masses is fucking GIGANTICALLY fucking AWESOME. So many things get taken advantage of on this album: The hi-hat takes a fucking beating like a wife who wouldn't listen...

Fuck Zavala. YEAH I SAID THAT shit. fucking asshole has been on a tear lately.  First it's sneaking onto the scene with some free DTS shit, all amazing beatwise.  Then it's a joint instro release with my favorite Moleman, meatwise.  Then the muthafucker drops Vessel as the main release from Dark Time Sunshine, all but cementing himself as a force to be reckoned with, streetwise. Fuck Zavala. But I have a problem with this instrumental album that I've never experienced before. See, when Maker drops his instros for any of the Qwel albums, I'm all "hell yeah instros". But on this muthafucker I was all like "hell yeah instros" before getting my hands on it, then I popped the fucker in and immediately I miss Onry. ONRY! HOLD MEEEE! Is this a diss? No. Is this a personal dig at Zavala? I love...

Yea, I know. I'm biased. I'm close personal friends with Sir Slug. We cookout at each other's houses (although he doesn't know that). We play ball on the weekends (I watch him from the bushes). I give him tips on knife techniques to use against rabid fans (I pray he never uses them on me again). We exchange gifts on holidays and birthdays (I've only received two back with RETURN TO SENDER, so I assume he kept the others). But Slug and co have a new musical compact disc for sale at your local Tower Records, I'm not here to show off the pictures of our matching tattoos. Not only is it a great fucking record, it shows that I've influenced him as a friend quite a bit. *ok fer seriousnesses, I was justs joshings peopled, come off the high horses* The latest from Atmosphere shows growth in...

An album made me happy. Like, I smiled at myself in the mirror and started a few of these tracks over, happy. Like, while washing my man parts in the horse trough we call a shower, I giggled, happy. Like, dude, I was like, fucking alternating between air drums and pelvic thrusts, happy. Timmy Baker sent over the 2010 album I Want! I Want! from a band I had never heard before called Walk The Moon. What transpired above, all occurred within the first 4 hours I had with this record. Poppy and bouncy, in a manner made famous by Vampire Weekend, but without the boat shoes or the need to punch someone in the band. Flighty and humorous, in a Flaming Lips type approach, where the mood of some songs is playfully ruined with hilarious lyrical miracles. During one track I was like "all Fuck...

Blue Sky Black Death has always been a go to when nothing else sounds good. When your foot is on the brake, your car is already in reverse and you just can't seem to find anything that will make perfect your only time alone all fucking day. Times of indecision or frustration normally force you to settle on something you know will guide you through without a wince, something you've relied on in the past. It's like there isn't any new and exciting porn on the internets so you just type in "77 topless broads on a trampoline in slow motion being sprayed with an oil gun". What? Fuck you. Like you haven't typed that into the googles when you're running out of time and/or softening. Asshole. Anywayzzzzzzzzzzz... Blue Sky Black Death are purveyors of eerie comfort. You can smile and cry in the...

I was given the heads up about Younger Brother's latest album, Vaccine, by an unlikely source: the internet. The internet said nil, yet my receptors were opens on this day and I took it into account to oblige the internet. For he is a vengeful and powerful internet. OK, here's the situation: my parents went away for a week's vacation So I have to haul ass into Chicago for a soundcheck 4 hours before we go on, essentially hurrying up to wait. My friend Roy crapped out on me leaving me to fend for meself, and I really hate fending. Fending is for adults. And when I prepare to play my guitar for people, I erase my title of adult. But I had Younger Brother there with me to get me through this tough tough time in my life. Fuck Roy. From what I've gathered from the internet about...

When I ditched Chicago at 18 and moved out to California to chase my dream of playing guitar for a living, I had to get a job. I used an employment agency and found one with a work day of 4am to 2:30pm. It completely fucked me up. Not only did I spend the day lying to people on the phone while yawning, but I ended up getting my first full paycheck stolen by the BBB during a BBB raid where BBB men with coats that said BBB took my money. BBB bitches. But during this brief time in my life, I met a few of my current best friends, and I also discovered what music can do to you when you're completely in the moment and you find yourself the star of your own music video. I don't mean a literal music video, but alot of the major events in my life remind me of certain music, just as certain music...

Obsessed. Obsessed is probably the most fitting of words to describe my current relationship with the album Ritual from White Lies. Del LeFevre can take credit for sending me the band my way, but as always, I ignored Del and tripped on their latest all on my own. When I finally hit play on the manpod, I was immediately in lust with the dude's voice. Commanding, strong, completely understandable, new-wave masculine... Your desire to know every lyric to this fucking album is not just because the songs are amazing, it's because the way this guy's vocals are recorded you want to fucking sing along like a fucking fruit bat high on gargantuan sized candy bars. So far, every song I've encountered has that "this could be the title track on any 80's movie I've ever seen" and completely...

I grabbed this album because I was hoping to hear some bork band speak in fucking jibberish but without all the sigur ros type mystery bullshit. I could read everything on their website, but I was really hoping it was complete shit so I could move past a band name that makes no fucking sense to me and no one would have to listen to me textually fellate a band they've never heard of. TOO BAD COOZEWAGON! Kenju's latest album I Have No Arms and No Legs is fucking tits mcgee stroking fucking terts mchugeterts in a way that I've connected with more than any other album since hearing In Rainbows on second hand pot smoke all those years ago. Picture: syncopation jerking off amazing vocals, going down on an ethereal reverb feel that makes everything you've heard this year from a band of borks...