The Stranger, Seattle's Only Newspaper: Line Out: Never Heard of 'Em

Birdcloud: Garfunkel and Oates Meets Beck?

Jason Josephes — Thu, 16 May 2013 08:06:21 -0700

Nashville's Birdcloud was a mystery to me until this morning. Now I'm much more the wiser. Two twisted Southern girls wrap simple chords in deviant, somewhat hallucinatory lyrics. A cheap way to explain it would be Garfunkel and Oates meets Beck. A more complicated way would be pointless because what am I, a writer or something?

Here's a less-than-two-minute song you can hear for yourself. You're welcome.

h/t: Rollo & Grady

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Never Heard of 'Em: Radiohead

Anna Minard — Mon, 13 May 2013 10:47:20 -0700

Anna Minard claims to "know nothing about music." For this column, we force her to listen to random records by artists considered to be important by music nerds.

Radiohead
Kid A
(Capitol)

I have a relationship to Radiohead that consists mainly of confusion and fear. I've heard of them, and I even went out and bought Pablo Honey when I was a teenager. I just didn't like it, and that was it. Then they became the Jesus of music and the world shitted itself every time they took another step, and it freaked me out. I never followed up—I used to avoid music that I thought I'd be embarrassed if I didn't understand. (I'm curing that impulse weekly now.)

When we started this column, I just assumed someone would eventually assign me Radiohead. Right?! But so far the contents have tended more toward old-school music learnin' and haven't caught up with the hip kids of the new millennium.

So I asked for it. Kid A was decreed, and I went home with determination (and some trepidation). It was a mostly silent sit-down couch listen; no running errands with headphones, no sorting laundry, no leaving the room for a minute. I listened to it like I was watching a movie, or waiting to be saved.

Let's Talk About the Kelly Family

Emily Nokes — Thu, 02 May 2013 16:39:15 -0700

SO, I was at Central Cinema the other day to see Howard the Duck (woof, so much crazier than I remembered). The movie was running a little behind so they showed more amazing music videos than usual while technical problems got sorted out. The videos were mostly laughable '80s disco stuff, but then THIS SONG came on:

WHAT.

I went home and started to research how exactly something like this happened. Apparently, they were called the Kelly Family—an Irish, muti-generational family band who were way big in Europe and beyond in the '80s/'90s. They have sold more than 20 MILLION ALBUMS!

All that hair! Costumes! Vagabond lifestyle! Have you ever heard of them? They're like Hanson x1000.

That's really all I wanted to share with you. They have quite a few hits; you should look into it.

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Never Heard of 'Em: Roxy Music

Anna Minard — Thu, 11 Apr 2013 13:23:00 -0700

Anna Minard claims to "know nothing about music." For this column, we force her to listen to random records by artists considered to be important by music nerds.

ROXY MUSIC
For Your Pleasure
(Island)

The first song on this album, "Do the Strand," makes me think I've accidentally started in the middle of the song every time I hear it, which is why I'm starting right here in the middle of this review. In fact, "Strand" makes me think I've accidentally started in the middle of the soundtrack to a plot-heavy musical. Like a slightly less dirty Rocky Horror spin-off or something. Where are we? At a glam party you'd have killed to be invited to—you'd run and press your nose against the front window glass if you saw it from the street—but somehow, in the middle of the night, you've magically been transported there. To the dance floor! (Thank god you sleep in a sequined minidress, right? Sheesh.)

After discovering that Roxy Music was not, in fact, a promotional CD from that '90s faux-skate shop (also: weird how Lady Gaga is on the cover, right?), I started listening to For Your Pleasure, and at first, I was underwhelmed. When I reported this whelming problem to Dave Segal, who I thought would be sympathetic (he's much less sequined than our music editor, who assigned me the album), he said I should take a weekend to "reassess [my] erroneous initial impressions." Schooled!

Never Heard of 'Em: Dinosaur Band Edition!

Anna Minard — Thu, 04 Apr 2013 15:59:00 -0700

MARY TRAVERSE

Anna Minard claims to "know nothing about music." For this column, we force her to listen to random records by artists considered to be important by music nerds.

Hi! I've been joking for months about not knowing the difference between "the dinosaur bands," T. Rex and Dinosaur Jr. I keep hearing references to both of them, and I wanted to know: What's the deal? How could there be two groups said to be completely different, yet, based on casual references, both fundamental to know about—and they both have dinosaur names? Via osmosis, I've picked up that one is from approximately the 1970s, one is from approximately the 1980s, and one has a frontman with long white hair. Which is which? I decided to find out for a double-wide dino review. Never Heard of 'Em: Dino Edition!

Never Heard of 'Em: The Dead Milkmen

Anna Minard — Wed, 13 Mar 2013 14:51:01 -0700

Anna Minard claims to "know nothing about music." For this column, we force her to listen to random records by artists considered to be important by music nerds.

The Dead Milkmen
Big Lizard in My Backyard
(Restless)

I listened to Big Lizard in My Backyard over a few days, both alone and with other humans. It's funny! Like jokes from Popsicle sticks in an alternate universe set to music, or short animated movies—silly and weird. (As usual, I don't love the yelling.) Music editor Emily Nokes said the Dead Milkmen were very important to her, so I tried hard. The people around me laughed a lot, so I didn't feel like a dick for making them do my "work" with me. Someone admitted to never remembering which is which when it comes to the Dead Milkmen and the Dead Kennedys. Then we tried making up mnemonic devices about Jell-O to help. (It didn't work! He's still confused.)

I think, in the end, that this kind of joke-punk is made for dancing and laughing, and I like that because frown music gets old after a while. But the day has not quite come when I can fully enjoy someone whine-screaming over guitars, unless there's a good reason—and "I don't wanna be on the beach" is not good enough for me. The guitars were fun—beach guitars, strummed while jumping. DM sound a little like if someone made a cartoon about the teenage children of the B-52s making a punk band behind their parents' backs.

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Never Heard of 'Em: Aphex Twin

Anna Minard — Wed, 06 Mar 2013 10:25:00 -0800

Anna Minard claims to "know nothing about music." For this column, we force her to listen to random records by artists considered to be important by music nerds.

APHEX TWIN
Selected Ambient Works Volume II
(Warp)

It turns out I can't write about Aphex Twin without writing about Dave Segal. It just couldn't be done. So here are some things about Mr. Segal, our staff music writer:

1. He is a committed vegan and yet somehow never annoying about it.

2. At 50 years young, he is also by many miles the healthiest of our office dwellers, likely only one-third of the way through his life span.

3. He likes music that seems like it was made by aliens A LOT.

4. He seems to be a fan of mind alteration.

He's the one who assigned me Aphex Twin, and after I listened to it a little half-assedly, rushed, in some in-between spaces—in the car, while doing chores—I found that insufficient. So I decided to fully Segal-out. I'm sure he would've recommended I find a nice dark room with an excellent sound system, drop some acid, and then listen to this double album while mainlining quinoa. But I got as close as I could, out of respect. I went home, cooked some brussels sprouts and spinach (green vegetables, man!) for dinner, poured myself a great big glass or three of wine, and put Aphex Twin on some real speakers.

Never Heard of 'Em: Operation Ivy

Anna Minard — Wed, 06 Feb 2013 13:27:29 -0800

Anna Minard claims to "know nothing about music." For this column, we force her to listen to random records by artists considered to be important by music nerds.

OPERATION IVY
Energy
(Lookout)

My lovely coworker (and local DJ) Megan Seling gave me this Operation Ivy album a long time ago because the pie chart of her heart has an entire slice set aside just for them. When I told her this week that I was finally listening to Energy, she smiled the biggest smile I've ever seen, and I started to feel scared. What if I didn't like it? What if I had to go back over to her desk and say, "Megan, this is terrible and it makes my ears hurt. I will never understand why you love this crap." What if, after that, I could always detect under her polite smiles a tinge of disgust? WHAT IF OP IVY RUINED EVERYTHING?

And then I listened to it, and... ugh, I couldn't stand it! I found myself making faces while I listened, the face you make when eating something gross. My sour music face and I walked around the city feeling bummed. Op Ivy were grating and kind of annoying, and I didn't understand the point, because the lyrics didn't sound like they were really deep or anything. They just sounded like "All I know is that I don't know/All I know is that I don't know nothin'," which, come on.

Never Heard of 'Em: King Crimson

Anna Minard — Thu, 24 Jan 2013 12:53:04 -0800

Anna Minard claims to "know nothing about music." For this column, we force her to listen to random records by artists considered to be important by music nerds.

KING CRIMSON
In the Court of the Crimson King
(Island)

I tried. I TRIED! I listened to this album over and over again. I took breaks and then went back to it. I looked up what other people had to say about it. I know how "seminal" this "prog" is. I asked to write about it. But at the end of the day, all my brain has to say about King Crimson is "Oh my god, is this song still playing? My commute is almost over." The songs are so, so long, and the part Kanye sampled a few years ago is the best part. Three separate times, I listened to it on the bus and had the exact same moment where I realized that I was still on the first track and three neighborhoods had gone by already. And I wasn't interested yet.

It sounds like the worst elements of the Beatles and Led Zeppelin had an orgy with some weird shit from the '90s and they had a deformed music baby. And in general, musicians who like to screw around by throwing cutlery and playing one individual note on 12 different instruments in no particular order—I don't really want to listen to your jazz-band rehearsal, okay? You're not "jamming." You're just being weird for the sake of being weird, like teenagers. That is not interesting.

Never Heard of 'Em: Regrets

Anna Minard — Mon, 07 Jan 2013 09:16:00 -0800

What is there to regret?! Writing this column has been fucking amazing. My life has expanded in so many ways since I started listening to these records, mainly because

I am finally out of the dork closet and can stop pretending I've heard of things just to save face at parties. People I meet now assume that I don't know anything about music, and it prompts them to tell me all sorts of funny and interesting things, or recommend artists they think I'd like, or sometimes even send me CDs in the mail. It's beyond charming. Thank you so much for inventing it, music-editor-emeritus Grant Brissey.

However, I thought about it, and I have a few regrets...

I sincerely regret all the years I spent feeling embarrassed about what music I liked/didn't like/had never heard of. That was a waste of time, and I learned very little because I was too afraid to ask anybody what they were talking about.

I regret all the times this year that someone wanted to tell me all about a band but I hadn't listened to the album yet and so I had to stop them, and then sometimes we never got around to having that conversation again.

Never Heard of 'Em: The Beach Boys' Christmas Album

Anna Minard — Mon, 24 Dec 2012 09:42:00 -0800

Anna Minard claims to "know nothing about music." For this column, we force her to listen to random records by artists considered to be important by music nerds.

THE BEACH BOYS
The Beach Boys' Christmas Album
(Capitol)

Oh, Beach Boys! You apple-cheeked, sweater-clad, expertly Brylcreemed gentlemen, all tinseling up that tree together! I've heard of these boys—we go way, way back, all the way to the oldies station. But I had not heard their Christmas album, and I also have a never-heard-of-it story about the Beach Boys that I'd like to tell you. Light a fire! Pull up a chair!

I dug the Beach Boys as a kid, because of Seattle's rad (and now tragically defunct) oldies station KBSG. (Sing it with me: "Good times and great oldies! [wacky jazz sax solo] Ninety-seven point three! K-B-S-Geeeeeeee!") I rediscovered them as a teenager, and "Wouldn't It Be Nice" and "God Only Knows" filled me with aching longing; they took my breath away. But who listens to the Beach Boys in high school nowadays? Nobody, that's who. I kept it on the DL. Later, I started hearing about Pet Sounds. That was the hip Beach Boys album, the one that was not embarrassing to like. Wikipedia says its sound is "a far cry from the simple surf rock" of their early albums, composed of "elaborate layers of vocal harmonies, coupled with sound effects and unconventional instruments"; it's "one of the most important albums of all time." But by the time I was hearing about the amazingness of Pet Sounds, I was so petrified of (and exhausted by) the feeling of twerpiness that came from not "getting" music, I never checked it out. I kept my Beach Boys love in my secret heart where no cool kids could get to it. And there it sat until this year, when I finally worked up the nerve to listen to Pet Sounds... whereupon I discovered that I already knew (and liked) all the goddamn songs. GAWD. Lesson learned, yo.

Never Heard of 'Em: Can

Anna Minard — Mon, 17 Dec 2012 11:05:00 -0800

Anna Minard claims to "know nothing about music." For this column, we force her to listen to random records by artists considered to be important by music nerds.

CAN
Tago Mago
(United Artists)

Can! What? Named after a verb meaning "know how to" or "be able to" and/or a noun meaning "a usually cylindrical receptacle,"* Can are what is known as "krautrock," a sort-of genre that's just a name for late-'60s German rock. The first important thing about Can, if you are a music dummy, is that people think they're important. For instance, at least half the bands I've written about for this column famously love Can (Siouxsie and the Banshees, Suicide, PiL, Brian Eno).

Also, let's talk about this album cover. IT IS SO GREAT! The typeface, the curlicue brains, the speech bubble, the big orange head... amazing.

The album begins with little wormy guitar tickles, then a psychedelic waowmp intro. I can't tell if/when they are speaking English. But I do think that drums are the centerpiece of krautrock. In fact, there is an 18-minute song on this album that is basically just drums. There's some rock piano, of which I heartily approve. Also, at some point, they sing about a snowman. I swear.

Never Heard of 'Em: Wire

Anna Minard — Sun, 02 Dec 2012 11:08:00 -0800

Anna Minard claims to "know nothing about music." For this column, we force her to listen to random records by artists considered to be important by music nerds.

WIRE
Chairs Missing
(Harvest)

What is going on with this guitar? Sometimes it sounds like a dial tone, sometimes it sounds Hawaiian/beachy, sometimes it sounds like a feedback telegram. This guitar also likes to do something sort of different from everyone else, like the guitar player is playing his own secret song and didn't tell anyone until they started recording, but then everyone loves it, so they just go along with it. Sometimes that sounds kind of wonderful. (Other times? Confusing.) I turn it up as loud as it goes, so it feels like they are playing inside my brain, because I want to be able to hear all the parts. Now I feel kind of dazed. I keep on thinking my phone is going off in my pocket, but it's just me vibrating, or thinking I'm vibrating, or my brain buzzing my whole spine. Yech, I feel kind of sick. It's affecting my vision! Okay, I'm turning it down.

I think you listen to this only with the blinds closed, or on a rainy day. No, actually, it's more like the soundtrack to a documentary about a moped gang. It's set in Seattle, in the modern day, but they light it and shoot it to look like an underground '80s film. The gang's not too large—maybe six people, plus a handful of stragglers, hangers-on, suck-ups. They run around screwing each other and fighting and living in a ratty apartment and smoking, and they go out and have deep conversations in all the best 24-hour diners and dive bars, and they rule at pinball. Yeah!

Never Heard of 'Em: Mother Love Bone

Anna Minard — Thu, 15 Nov 2012 15:32:40 -0800

Anna Minard claims to "know nothing about music." For this column, we force her to listen to random records by artists considered to be important by music nerds.

MOTHER LOVE BONE
Apple
(Mercury)

It's MOTHER LOVE BONE TIME!!!! I just said that to get a reaction. See, around here, it's easy to get people to talk about Mother Love Bone. When the music staff brought up the idea of assigning me this, they were all laughing uncharacteristically hard. I couldn't figure it out. "Where have I heard the name before?" I asked. More giggling. "What, was Courtney Love's mom in it?" (ZING!) "Well," music editor Emily Nokes began. "You know how in every grunge documentary ever—" I gave her my best how many grunge documentaries do you think I've seen? look. "Right," she said. Then, no one would admit to having any MLB sitting around. Eventually, a burned CD landed at my desk, origins unknown. So I listened to it, thinking it was just some goofy joke band. My notes read something like this: "Uh-oh, a children's chorus. Aah, only two songs in, thought it was half over. Lyric sounds like 'I bone China.' On soundtrack to every '80s/'90s movie? Would make great karaoke. Sounds like it should be on Guitar Hero."

Never Heard of 'Em: Massive Attack

Anna Minard — Tue, 13 Nov 2012 13:24:17 -0800

Anna Minard claims to "know nothing about music." For this column, we force her to listen to random records by artists considered to be important by music nerds.

MASSIVE ATTACK
Blue Lines
(Virgin)

Charles Mudede had a hand in assigning me this album, and he offered it with this admonition: "You know, one of the best songs of all time is on this album. See if you can figure out which one it is." Good lord, man. NO. The answer is likely NO. I was also told, when I admitted I didn't have the slightest clue what genre this was going to be, that it was "triphop." I didn't know what that was, either. "It's just British rap," was the response. What's the "trip" part? Everyone came up empty on that.

You know what this sound is not? Massive. Nor is it an attack. It's mostly British people talking over beats. I'd assumed you could rap fast in British English (we've all seen Lock, Stock and Snatch), but it turns out you can't. Or maybe fast-rapping is just too vulgar; they have to take sips of tea in between each verse. They really enunciate! I love the name Massive Attack, but it should be renamed Medium-Volume Rhythmic Speaking. It's like what you'd listen to if a warlock put a spell on you that required you to choose some form of hiphop to listen to during every moment of your life, for the rest of your life. When you wanted to go get a massage, you'd totally pick this. This is excellent nap rap.

Never Heard of 'Em: Tom Tom Club

Anna Minard — Fri, 02 Nov 2012 15:43:00 -0700

Anna Minard claims to "know nothing about music." For this column, we force her to listen to random records by artists considered to be important by music nerds.

TOM TOM CLUB
Tom Tom Club
(Sire Records)

GUYS! I'm so excited to write this! Serious breakthroughs have occurred. First things first: Damn, it is embarrassing to have to keep saying sentences like this, but... holy shit, Tom Tom Club are amazing! (Previous editions of Anna "Captain Obvious" Minard: "Neutral Milk Hotel made me feel feelings!" and "Kate Bush is really fun!") Tom Tom Club are a renegade funsplosion that sounds exactly like the album cover looks, and when I'm riding the bus listening to it, I want to magically transform my iPod into a boom box, and then the whole bus would start dancing, and then we'd POOF! turn into a cartoon, and...

Emily Nokes warned me that I was going to recognize a song on this album that Mariah Carey sampled, so I braced for the embarrassing feeling I get whenever I realize that I just can't help liking a shitty song that sampled/covered an older song better than the original. I have Mariah Carey's "Fantasy" on my iPod (on a playlist that also has Real McCoy's "Another Night," duh). "I get kinda hectic inside" is among the best lyrics of all time. So brain preparations were made to stanch the shame ("It's okay, c'mon, you just like what you like, you can't help it"). THEN IT HAPPENED. Dear sweet lord, "Genius of Love" is so fucking good! Orders of magnitude better than "Fantasy." Of course I know that, objectively, a song by the rhythm section of Talking Heads is "better" than a pop song by an American Idol judge. But what I mean is: My ears like it better, and it makes me happier. I truly like it more. What's happening?!?

Never Heard of 'Em: Pharoah Sanders

Anna Minard — Sat, 20 Oct 2012 13:56:00 -0700

Anna Minard claims to "know nothing about music." For this column, we force her to listen to random records by artists considered to be important by music nerds.

PHAROAH SANDERS
Karma
(Impulse!)

HOLY SHIT, you guys. This is ridiculous. Sometimes, when listening to albums for this column, I press play and immediately feel like I'm on an episode of Punk'd, and Ashton Kutcher is going to pop out from behind my bookcase, peel off his convincing Dave Segal mask, snap a quick Polaroid of me, and go, "HA-HA! Gotcha! Look at your face!" This was one of those times.

The first track is 32 minutes long. Hey, did you know saxophones can scream at you? They can and will, if you listen to this album. At first, Pharoah Sanders is just tickling the sax until it giggles. But then it gets really, really pissed. (Which is fair.) Also: "The Creator has a working plan: peace and happiness for every man." You will hear that phrase a lot of times, followed by the phrase "the Creator makes but one demand: happiness through all the land" another, oh, three thousand times. And also a lot of "yeahs." "Yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah-ye—" (I'm stopping there, but only to save ink.)

Two Northwest Music Writers Can't Be Wrong...

Emily Nokes — Fri, 12 Oct 2012 11:23:08 -0700

Divers - "Glass Chimes" (via Rumbletowne Records)

(Rendezvous) Hello, I work here, and I am in one of these bands. Are you okay? Are you still here? Glad we could talk. Now then, Divers are from Portland, and they are rad. SO rad, in fact, that my alternate universe twin, music editor of the Portland Mercury, Ned Lannamann, e-mailed me to say, "Hey YOU, Divers are AWESOME." And I was like, "I KNOW, right?" Then we internet high-fived and music notes shot out of our computers. So there you have it: Two people who talk about music in two free weeklies in two Pacific Northwest cities CAN'T BE WRONG. Divers play big punk rock 'n' roll—suitable for dancing to, sweating to, losing your voice to, and fist-pumping in your white T-shirt like it's the '80s and the Boss is your actual boss and you just got a bonus.

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The Musical Currency of Neutral Milk Hotel

Anna Minard — Sun, 30 Sep 2012 14:44:53 -0700

Anna Minard claims to "know nothing about music." For this column, we force her to listen to random records by artists considered to be important by music nerds.

NEUTRAL MILK HOTEL
In the Aeroplane Over the Sea
(Merge)

Listening to this album was weird because I'd heard it before. But not like I heard it a while ago and didn't listen carefully. I've heard it because I hang out with a lot of people who make music, and it turns out they all adore Aeroplane. For the last six months or so, I've heard these songs played and sung by friends—on guitars and a cappella, alone and in two-part and three-part harmony, in public and in my living room and in basements. It's a musical currency that they've all been loving and trading for a decade, and I only just found out.

Recently, I was on a long road trip, listening to music for endless meandering highway hours, and I came across Aeroplane on a beat-up old iPod. On a whim, I pressed play. (Actually, first I asked permission, and the driver asked me if I was sure—I could listen to it for the first time only once, and was I ready for that to be now? I was.) Outside were miles of pointy trees and bluish-tinted mountains and some body of water I don't remember. It was evening, so the light slanted sideways in pale yellow sheets. It was the end of a trip back from somewhere dusty and hot and so dry we got nosebleeds, and we were marveling at the slow and welcome embrace of this damp, lush, fecund ghost world that is home.

Even with all the affection I had already for these songs, and the awe bestowed on them by my friends, I felt unwarned, unprepared for the way it got inside me. It felt both private and universal, just for me and also uniting me with everyone I've ever known.

Never Heard of 'Em: Chrome

Anna Minard — Thu, 13 Sep 2012 10:53:37 -0700

Anna Minard claims to "know nothing about music." For this column, we force her to listen to random records by artists considered to be important by music nerds.

CHROME
Half Machine Lip Moves
(Siren)

Oh, good. It starts with someone playing his guitar with power tools. My favorite! Then music. Dernernernernerner. Then we go to space. Then Van Halen shows up or something. Then more construction sounds. Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. Then what I thought was crappy guitar but is actually distorted vocals. Hey, the Crypt Keeper has some vocals on this album! No, wait—a whole song. Then they play pretty much the same song a few times. (I had to check to see if it was a new track starting or if they had just paused in the middle of a long song.) Then they play a record backward—either that or demon cows take over the mic. Mmm, now that intense sweeping sound, shhwip, shhwip, shhwip. I think it's a record player?

This is a great thing to know: I thought before that I could get into anything that had a great drumbeat. Untrue! There are things that can cancel that out, apparently. See? Learning and growing. Oh, now he's making fun of the differently abled. That's just rude, my friend.

Never Heard of 'Em: Tony Bennett

Anna Minard — Thu, 30 Aug 2012 10:22:08 -0700

In honor of his Bumbershoot appearance, we assigned Anna Minard (who "knows nothing about music") to write about Tony Bennett.

Okay, okay: Of course I have "heard of" Tony Bennett! I'm not a complete caveperson. He's the guy who did... um... he sang that—wait, name a song that Tony Bennett sang. (Insert deafening chorus of "I Left My Heart in San Francisco" here.) Right! But other than that. Well, all of the songs, ever. Or maybe just all of the ones that sound like a sexy grandpa. Every jazz standard. Old songs with slightly dirty-sounding titles like "Young and Warm and Wonderful." I'd thought the most important thing about Tony Bennett was how amazing his hair is. (Quick! Tony Bennett and Skrillex: SWITCH!) But when I consulted the internet to confirm the picture in my head of Mr. Bennett, which is about six inches of combed-back hair pouf, I found my brain had exaggerated by about four to five inches. However! I did discover that his skin is bright orange, and the hair pouf he does have is snow-white. He is quite the high-contrast fellow.

He sounds, depending on the song, like: Santa after two Viagra, the human form of the Bellagio fountain in Las Vegas, the human form of a maroon velvet smoking jacket, an actual fox with actual silver fur, and/or what George Clooney will sound like in 20 years.

That all might sound kind of silly. But you literally have to respect him. Seriously, try it—just try not respecting him. Did one of your limbs just fall off? Well, lesson learned. Don't fuck with the pros.

Tony Bennet plays Bumbershoot Sunday at 3:15 pm in the KeyArena. See more Bumbershoot coverage here!

Never Heard of 'Em: Hüsker Dü's Zen Arcade

Anna Minard — Thu, 16 Aug 2012 10:34:18 -0700

Anna Minard claims to "know nothing about music." For this column, we force her to listen to random records by artists considered to be important by music nerds.

HÜSKER DÜ
Zen Arcade
(SST)

First, a digression: ROCK DOTS (oh, the assonance! So poetic!). Or: Röck Döts?! Also known as a "heavy metal umlaut," röck döts are the dots sitting atop a letter "gratuitously or decoratively" in a band name, according to Wikipedia—e.g., Blue Öyster Cult, Mötley Crüe, etc. (Is anyone else craving the impossible-to-masticate candies called Dots now?) Because of their röck döts, I'd always assumed that Hüsker Dü were a tacky metal band. Ööps! Turns out they're hardcore, punk, or thrash—hardcore is a kind of punk, right? And thrash is a kind of metal... The music taxonomy eludes me yet again. What's important is that they were influential and not commercially successful—catnip to music nerds' little noses.

I started listening to Zen Arcade after the interwebs decreed it in our blog poll. I walked around the city buying groceries, dodging rush-hour pedestrian mobs, baking a little in the late sun. I did not love it; I did not hate it. It was yelly, but I'm used to giving that a chance now.

Never Heard of 'Em: Brian Eno

Anna Minard — Tue, 07 Aug 2012 14:10:44 -0700

Anna Minard claims to "know nothing about music." For this column, we force her to listen to random records by artists considered to be important by music nerds.

BRIAN ENO
Music for Airports
(E.G.)

It's been a long day, my column is due, and every time I've told anyone that I'm supposed to write about Brian Eno this week, they laughed—sometimes so hard they fell off the couch. Last time that happened, it was Captain Beefheart. I'm cat-sitting for a tiny kitten with needle teeth, and I figure instead of the usual listen, think, repeat, listen, ask questions, google, listen cycle, I'm gonna pour myself a strong cocktail, lie down, put this on the stereo, and just see what happens.

I was pretty sure I was going to hate this. I know it's "ambient" music, but I don't know what that means. (I looked "ambient" up in the dictionary and it said "existing or present on all sides; encompassing.") And anything that both Dave Segal and Charles Mudede love cannot be up my alley, right? Especially if it's particularly encompassing? "I think this is going to be your favorite," Segal said, deadpan. I couldn't tell whether he was joking. "Be careful with that CD," said Mudede. "I love that album so much, I keep it behind my desk at all times, so I can look at it when I get stuck." "You don't listen to it?" I asked him. He shook his head. "I've got it memorized," he said, definitely not joking.

Which Album Should We Make Anna Listen To This Week?

Emily Nokes — Tue, 31 Jul 2012 15:22:30 -0700

Anna Minard claims to "know nothing about music." For her weekly column we force her to listen to random records by artists considered to be important by music nerds.

This week, Nipper, Dave, and I each picked one album that Anna has definitely never heard of! Which one should she write about? Vote below! Bonus points if you can guess which person picked which album.

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Never Heard of 'Em: Sparks

Anna Minard — Thu, 12 Jul 2012 13:11:16 -0700

Anna Minard claims to "know nothing about music." For this column, we force her to listen to random records by artists considered to be important by music nerds.

SPARKS
Kimono My House
(Island)

Kimono My House (assigned to me gleefully by our dear David Schmader) started off on the right foot because it verbed a noun, which this copy editor thinks is funny. I could not, for the life of me, figure from the cover what era it was from.

Do you ever feel unprepared for an artistic experience, like the minute it envelops you, you need to pause it, go prepare for an hour (get dressed up, do a little research, bring a friend), and then get back to it? I used to do that with movies as a teenager—if they got really good, I'd have to go change into a better outfit. I don't know exactly what outfit this album requires, but I definitely feel the need to respect it with total adolescent commitment to the material. It's probably worth an entire costume-change montage, with at least five people, hopefully in front of velvet curtains. Tip: Have lots of wigs on hand. Kimono sounds like a clown opera, and I do not mean Pagliacci. It sounds like a circus worth of clowns on speed wrote an opera based on their dream journals. It's fantastic!

Never Heard of 'Em: Kate Bush's Hounds of Love

Anna Minard — Fri, 29 Jun 2012 15:27:32 -0700

Anna Minard claims to "know nothing about music." For this column, we force her to listen to random records by artists considered to be important by music nerds.

KATE BUSH
Hounds of Love
(EMI)

This is how I know my friends actually like me: They put up with interactions like...

Me: Ugh, this sounds like something cool people would like.

Friend 1: [Awkward pause, checks to see if I'm joking] Anna, this is Radiohead.

Me: Ohhhh. Right.

Or this recent interaction, in a record store:

Friend 2: Do you know Kate Bush?

Me: Maybe. Isn't her voice pretty annoying?

Friend 2: [Patient yet exasperated sigh, a shake of the head] I'm buying you this album.

And they still hang out with me afterward! So now I'm doing a column on Hounds of Love, only instead of just listening to it for work, I also listened to it because someone I care about really likes it, which is way more pressure, right? (Also, to be fair to my comment above, the only Kate Bush song I'd ever heard before this was "Wuthering Heights"—I love songs about books!—and I still maintain that her voice in that song is truly annoying.)

Never Heard of 'Em: Lavender Country

Anna Minard — Fri, 22 Jun 2012 14:36:00 -0700

Anna Minard claims to "know nothing about music." For this column, we force her to listen to random records by artists considered to be important by music nerds.

LAVENDER COUNTRY
Lavender Country
(Gay Community Social Services of Seattle)

Here is an example of the kind of e-mail you say "YES" to:

From: Eli Sanders
I have a possible Never Heard of 'Em. I got slipped this record the other day called Lavender Country, which apparently is the first gay country album ever recorded (for real), and was produced here in Seattle in the 1970s, and is now kept in the archives of the Country Music Hall of Fame.

Well, gollllleee! Has anyone heard of this? Actually, yes. The Seattle connection—lead singer/founder of Lavender Country, Patrick Haggerty, is a local, and the album was originally paid for and released in 1973 by Gay Community Social Services of Seattle, identified in the liner notes as an organization that provides support to "small homophile organizations"—means that if anyone should've heard of this album, it'd be PNW folks, and Haggerty has played at Pride before. But no one I've talked to has ever heard of Lavender Country, and half of them thought I was joking when I said this week I was covering the first gay country album. So let's correct this error together, shall we?

First: I obviously cannot be a judge of quality here. That is not my purpose or area of expertise. I am here only to respond in darkness and without context to the sounds that emanate from the speakers. And second, regardless of quality, the importance of this album is cemented. A gay country album from 1973? What a badass! Take a look at some of the song titles:

Come Out Singin'

Cryin' These Cocksucking Tears

Back in the Closet Again

Have You Read Never Heard of 'Em This Week?

Grant Brissey — Sat, 09 Jun 2012 12:22:31 -0700

Anna Minard writes:

On Grant's advice, I have conducted research to determine who these people are and why he assigned me this album. I have discovered the following on Wikipedia: (1) PiL is "post-punk," meaning that since I listened to Suicide for my first column, I've now come from proto-punk to post-punk—I must be done! (Note: The Suicide album came out in 1977, and these guys started playing in 1978, so apparently punk lasted only about a year.) (2) This singer is John Lydon, aka Johnny Rotten, aka lead singer of the Sex Pistols—a really super-famous band I've totally heard of! (3) Lydon helped start rap rock in the '80s (you're welcome!). (4) You know who cites PiL as an influence? The Red Hot Chili Peppers, that's who.

Read the whole thing here!

Never Heard of 'Em: Sonic Youth

Anna Minard — Thu, 26 Apr 2012 09:11:25 -0700

Anna Minard claims to "know nothing about music." For this column, we force her to listen to random records by artists considered to be important by music nerds.

Sonic Youth
Confusion is Sex
(Neutral)

Three quick housekeeping issues: (1) Neither Captain Beefheart nor Frank Zappa were on acid during the recording of Trout Mask Replica, according to various commenters, music nerds, and the internet. I find this very, very sad, because I still don't like it, and now I guess they were serious. BUMMER. (2) People hate me on the internet now! So exciting. My mom's gonna be proud. And (3) sorry this column didn't happen last week. I am only a semiprofessional music-not-knower-abouter, and my real job comes first.

On to Sonic Youth! The title of this column isn't technically true here—I have heard the name Sonic Youth before (I had the rock under which I have been living drilled with air holes a few years ago), but I've never listened to them on purpose. I didn't really like track one, and I got pretty worried that I was gonna be miserable again. "She's in a baaaaaad moooooood…" probably because of your weird bee noises in the background, guys. And the track falls apart at the end, devolving into a kind of music I've complained about in this column before. Except… I think I might like it? I don't know what's happening, but there's this buildup at the end, which feels like something I would usually call "bullshit," and I'm just really okay with it. It's… exciting? I even like the huge, strange tone at the end that goes on for like 10 seconds, and I'm sorry when it's done.

I quickly realized that these songs sound like the soundtrack to a fever dream, as I kept having weirdly vivid instant associations with the songs. It's like the score of a lo-fi late-'80s/early-'90s horror movie with a child protagonist. On track two, "Protect Me You," the kid is hiding in a pitch-dark church, waiting for his or her inevitable demise, maybe praying a little. If I close my eyes while listening to the beginning of track three, "Freezer Burn/I Wanna Be Your Dog" (which makes me feel like I'm in an airplane engine), I can't shake the feeling that I'm about to be stabbed from behind. Creepy! Then the second part starts, and its guitar part sounds familiar for some reason, and I've probably listened to it 15 times so far, at least. I just keep hitting rewind. Track four, "Shaking Hell," is a demento carnival, and maybe there's a cheesy/scary part where the kid's on a spinny ride and sees the murderer and then when he spins around to that part again the murderer's just gone.

Anyway, there's not room for a whole track-by-track breakdown, but I really liked this album, and I don't know why. It follows every rule I can think of for me hating shit (gross lyrics—"Shake off your flesh"? Ew, check! Noise for no apparent reason? There's a ton! Repetitive unpleasant sounds under the surface of everything? Hella check!) and yet here I am, still listening to it, and kind of wanting to jump up and down a little bit. Or a lot. Don't worry, I won't.

Confusion Is Sex gets a "what are these strange new feelings?" out of 10.

Listen to "Freezer Burn/I Wanna Be Your Dog" after the cut.

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Never Heard of 'Em: Captain Beefheart and His Magic Band

Anna Minard — Thu, 12 Apr 2012 16:13:12 -0700

Captain Beefheart and His Magic Band
Trout Mask Replica
(Straight)

Anna Minard claims to "know nothing about music." For this column, we force her to listen to random records by artists considered to be important by music nerds.

Um, so if you know this album, maybe you're already laughing. (You should be.) Grant handed it to me with the comment, "It’s pretty weird." That's it. Then I listened to Trout Mask Replica. Yesterday, I confronted Grant. "I have absolutely nothing to say," I told him. "Are you kidding me with this?" "People love that album," he said. "You have to write about it."

To which I say: PEOPLE! Who are you? What is going on? Context-free, just listening to this for the first time, do you think I should appreciate it? The different instrumental parts seem to have only the most passing relationship to each other. They regularly go off on the sort of screechy musical tangents that drive me up a wall ("now I'm just gonna play this scratchy out-of-tune bullshit for a full minute at the end of a song, I’m so amaaaaazing"). And the lyrics are insane: "A squid eating dough in a polyethylene bag is fast and bulbous. Got me?" NO, I DO NOT GET YOU!

My emotional response to this was annoyance-morphed-into-irrational-anger, kind of like road rage, or slowest-line-at-the-grocery-store rage, or why-won’t-the-fucking-printer-print-my-boarding-pass rage. There's no point in being upset by things you can't control, like someone cutting you off in traffic or the sound of printer wheels churning to no observable effect. But sometimes a thing hits the solar plexus of your animal rage brain and before you know it, you're Hulking out. I was fully Hulking out on this shit. My sanity was basically a shredded pair of purple pants. I haaaaaate this.

Then Grant broke the cardinal Never Heard of 'Em rule: He explained the context. "Frank Zappa recorded it in a basement while they were all on acid." Um, yeah. OBVIOUSLY. That is exactly what it sounds like. But why would I want to hear that? That sounds terrible! Still, after this most basic of explanations, my rage was extinguished. Now it just seems like a bunch of silly dudes on drugs, and even though that's boring, I don't really care. Plus I like some stuff just fine—"Moonlight on Vermont" and "Veteran’s Day Poppy" are neat. This Beefheart guy's voice is fun to listen to and I'm thinking maybe I should try something of his that's a little bit less, you know… insane? Does that exist?

I give this a "damn, music nerds, you are crazy" out of 10.

Listen to "Ella Guru" after the cut.

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