I've just had a perfect good morning listening to "Late for the Sky"
Yeah, that particular track is beautiful.
pa wrote:
and I'm listening to "Time has come today" but...am I crazy or they remind me of Rolling Stones ??
hmmm... if you listened to the full 11 minutes, I'd say not completely crazy. Just mostly. ( )
If you dug that Chambers Brothers track, I HIGHLY RECOMMEND this incredible box set of 60s garage rock gems straight from testosterone-crazed garages across America…
Repo, it's user LISTENING log, no movies allowed!, so it would User movie log.. (well this name is not good, I find away soon) where were you with your head, omg dude.
just Kidding. good work with this log until now, not focusing only music it's a good move, it lets it more entertaining and fun, but the music topics and albums also seem interesting and it's worth the time reading. Woo, still waiting for more to come. _________________ Top 100 Hits you must hear before the u... of beauty
As I’m sure many of you have fathomed, I took my user name from the best cult film of the 80s - Repo Man. I love pretty much anything The Criterion Collection releases, and they provide a nice synopsis of my beloved movie here…
A quintessential cult film of the 1980s, Alex Cox’s singular sci-fi comedy stars the always captivating Harry Dean Stanton as a weathered repo man in a desolate Los Angeles, and Emilio Estevez as the nihilistic middle-class punk he takes under his wing. The job becomes more than either of them bargained for when they get involved in repossessing a mysterious—and otherworldly—Chevy Malibu with a hefty reward attached to it. Featuring the ultimate early eighties L.A. punk soundtrack, this grungily hilarious odyssey is also a politically trenchant take on President Reagan’s domestic and foreign policies. - Criterion Collection
But it was more than just a kickass movie to me. I bought the soundtrack on cassette, and it basically didn't leave my car for the next three years eventually getting warped by the sun's molten rays when I accidentally left it on the dashboard. That cassette was my gateway drug into the pressure release valve known as Punk Rock. That FIVE dollar cassette contains bands that are still in my overall chart two decades later such as Black Flag, The Fear, Iggy Pop (via The Stooges’ Fun House) as well as future potential chart fodder such as the Circle Jerks and Modern Lovers. The entire soundtrack kicks ass from beginning to end and also showcases just how diverse American punk was in the 70s and 80s.
Hell. This reminiscence has got me all fired up. Over the next week, I will countdown my ten favorite punk rock records from the only two decades that matter - the 70s & 80s! Because God only knows, Teenagers (today) Don't know "Real Punk" Bands! (Shoutout to Kiki for an absolutely brilliant thread a couple of days ago!!!)
Like Skinny, I got into The Residents a couple of years ago via Simon Reynolds' Rip It Up & Start Again..
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It is both an exhaustive, encyclopedic survey of the post-punk landscape AND a fascinating, accessible page turner.
For years, I've never quite gotten the music of Jad Fair despite multiple attempts due to his perceived critical importance and work with my fave Daniel Johnston. Well today, I put on this ...
...and was blown away by how immediate and engrossing it was despite it never even come close to clicking in the past. I think that's mostly attributable to my discovery and love of...
It gave me entirely different perspective on approaching music and a toehold into other outsider, willfully amateurish music. I find it fascinating how one album can sometimes break down a wall into a entirely different way of hearing and appreciating music.
I can’t say I remember the first time I approached “outsider art” as a listener, though perhaps it goes all back to select few tracks by Moondog and when I first listened to the Residents around nine-to-ten years ago. However, my introduction was different—it was on something they record called ‘The Commercial Album’, of course I didn’t know if I liked it or disliked it considering I was so very young and inexperienced at the time. Hell, I had only been listening to albums for a year or two as a format. I revisited several years later after discovering my interest in abstract music from the alternative music scene to the Japanese noise movement; so basically everything from Sonic Youth to Merzbow, if you need name visuals.
This was when I of course realized I really dug the Residents. Explored a few records over the years, and I think The Commercial Album is still my favorite, but this one is up there too.
As for “perceiving” music beyond preconceived notions? I don’t know when I started doing that, back in the early 00s I would talk to several people who were immersed into alternative music in general (my biggest “mentor” I guess was a dude named Patrick who was a philosophy major who liked Sonic Youth, Don Cabarello, The Flaming Lips, John Fahey, Sebadoh, and so forth.) so that probably had a lot to do with me listening to something differently.
I can’t say I remember the first time I approached “outsider art”
Kickass post, Gowi! For those interested in outsider art beyond the confines of music, there's an incredible museum for it called American Visionary Art Museum in Baltimore, Maryland (not far from Washington, DC for those in other countries). It's one of my favorite museums in the entire country, and I try to go whenever I'm in the area (my brother lives in DC). It's well worth seeking out.
Malaysians are all about their malls. And holidays. They have a shitload of holidays. One of the perks of having a country composed of THREE different ethnic groups - the Chinese who are Buddhist, the Malays who are Islamic and lastly (and least I’m afraid as far as the Chinese and Malays are concerned) the Indians who are a mix of Islamic and Hindu. Because of this, they love to tell tourists that Malaysia is Asia’s melting pot. Which is a regular riot for those of us who stick around long enough and settle in. The three different cultures have zero interest in doing any mixing and segregation is the norm. The phrase separate and not equal comes to mind. Except for the mall! Where they all go in droves to escape Malaysia’s unforgiving, oppressive sun to bask in it's air conditioned halls. Especially on holidays like today.
So to celebrate this great unifier where all are welcome and catered to from the goth kids finding matching black outfits at the Hot Topic to BAWPs like me buying underwear and khakis at the Gap, we here at Repo Industries r going to go all things mall. I’m going to time travel back to my own mall rat days in the 80s when I used to hang out at Aladdin's Castle and Newport Creamery (or Friendlies depending on the mall) since there was nothing better to do in my suburban teenage wasteland known as Warwick, RI . Since it's a party, I'm going break into some modern pop that's all the rage right now on BEA and Pitchfork. (Please give recs of your favorite pop bands and singles because this is pretty much uncharted (pun intended) territory for me!)
Speaking of my junior high mall rat days, one of my favorite things to do while whiling away the empty spaces that inhabit a public school day was make lists of my favorite bands. I'd scribble them onto the cover of my notebooks as if I’d forget or something. Back then most of the bands I’d listen to would trick out their band name with gratuitous graphic art, and I would carefully try to recreate it in my lists. In fact, lets go back in time for an inside look at what one of these lists might have looked like had I actually been able to draw...
The Top 7 Bands of My Mall Rat Years
7. 6.
5.
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4. 3.
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2
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1.
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FOREVER
Btw, although the Chris Traeger is scarily close to my actual personality (perhaps 40%), when I was aimlessly looking through some video clips for this page I realized that the Brodie character in these two scenes from Mallrats eerily captures idk, maybe another 30% :...
All this talk about metal reminded me of one of very first posts on BEA when I had a totally different user name. I thought it would be fun to have TWO charts - one would act as my Listening Bin which I would update with brief notes after each listen and the other would simply be my All Time Faves. Once I learned the Repo Code (ie No user may have more than account), I deleted my listening bin chart. As some of you know, I have since merged this idea into my overall chart, but at the time it was a lot of fun having these two different charts to tweak. Now I have as many charts as my heart desires. LOL. But back then, I was limited to one wee little chart with a mere 40 albums! (*shudders at the thought*)
So, does anyone remember this post from what seems like years ago?
smilefromyrheart wrote:
koolkeithsweat wrote:
There's also ample youtube videos of full-length live performances of hair metal performances and honestly they look like they'd be a blast to go to.
I went to a run-of-the-mill suburban junior high school in the 80s and partook DEEPLY in its music culture. In other words, I was a teenage metal head.
And I must say, Hair metal, and heavy metal concerts in general, were a BLAST! The light shows and stage sets alone were a marvel. But, mostly it was the music. As the larger-than-life riffs coursed electric through your body and your devils horns rhythmically fist pumped through the air, we collectively surrendered to something bigger than ourselves. The whole experience was immensely euphoric and cathartic. I remember being completely at drained & at peace afterwards afterwards, my body caked in sweat. Quite interesting that this nice catholic boy's most religious and sexual experiences at the time were at arena-sized metal shows.
Top 10 most Essential Hair Metal Albums (in chronological order) ...
Alice Cooper - Love It to Death (1971)
New York Dolls - s/t (1973)
Kiss - s/t (1974)
Van Halen - s/t (1978)
Motley Crue - Too Fast For Love (1981)
Misfits - Walk Among Us (1982)
Def Leppard - Pyromania (1983)
Van Halen - 1984
Guns n' Roses - Appetite For Destruction (1987)
Slipknot - s/t (1999)
Honorable Mention
The Dictators - Go Girl Crazy (1975)
Regarding my unconventional Hair Metal list, I thought it would be fun to see Hair Metal in the larger context. Hair metal, more than almost any other genre, has been so pigeonholed to a very specified and restricted list of years and bands that I thought it would be useful to let it breathe a bit. Show where it came from and related trends and how its influence on the stage show survived on to the next generation of metal bands (e.g. Slipknot). It's funny how conservative we as fans are of certain genre, and I can now appreciate why rock artists always chafed at being grouped into a scene or genre. As fans, we tend to be a little too religious (interesting, that this word keeps popping up) about our genres!
At any rate, here's a completely traditional (read boring) list of my favorite (but not essential) Hair Metal Albums.
My Highly Conventional List of My Favorite Hair Metal Albums (in chronological order) ...
Def Leppard - High n’ Dry (1981)
Scorpions - Blackout (1982)
Motley Crue - Too Fast of Love (1981)
Def Leppard - Pyromania (1983)
Quiet Riot - Metal Health (1983)
Twisted Sister - You Can’t Stop Rock n’ Roll (1983)
Motley Crue - Shout at the Devil (1983)
Night Ranger - Midnight Madness (1983)
Ratt - Out of the Cellar (1984)
Whitesnake - Slide It In (1984)
Hanoi Rocks - Two Steps from the Move (1984)
Dokken - Under Lock & Key (1985)
Loudness - Thunder in the East (1985)
Bon Jovi - Slippery When Wet (1986)
Cinderella - Night Songs (1986)
Poison - Look what the Cat Dragged In (1986)
Guns n’ Roses - Appetite for Destruction (1987)
Def Leppard - Hysteria (1987)
Skid Row - s/t (1989)
I know which list I prefer.
Up the Irons!
ps: Hopefully I'll explain the weird user name, smilefromyrheart, at some point in this ULL if I get the chance. It does come from something that's quite important to me.
I’ve been debating whether to share what I’m going through with you guys for a couple of months now. Having to back out of helping with the Genre Extravaganza thread was the final straw as I owe you an explanation. It certainly had NOTHING AT ALL to do with any complaints that were brought forth - I didn’t take offense at all to be honest. That kind of stuff doesn’t bother me too much in the grand schemes of things. No, I just haven’t been feeling well and Happymeal unilaterally bringing eyezayzay, someone who had just been bashing our project and multiple genres just hours before, into the mix without discussing it with me first, made it fairly easy to finally let my involvement in the project go. I really needed to focus on…
I didn’t feel the pin. Clearly he was doing it wrong. He must be doing it wrong. This couldn’t be happening. Not to me. Not now. Not ever.
“Do it again,” I pressed nonchalantly despite the worry and pain that was coursing through my body as it had been for a few years now.
Again I didn’t feel the pin. The reassuring jab of pointy metal causing a jolt of pain. The doctor again walked the pin up my foot and lower leg and gradually I felt its sharp teeth sending the familiar yip of of pain to my frontal cortex as he reached my shin.
The neuro exam. It was an exam I had performed thousands of time in the past. On other people. On other patients. I never imagined that one day I myself would be sitting on the rumbled, crinkly sanitary paper. Waiting expectantly for what felt like an eternity to be seen by “the doctor.” Waiting for someone else to pass judgement on my life. On my prospects.
I could bluff and say that was the worst part. The loss of control. But I’d be lying. Because nothing could touch the pain. I would have done anything to stop the pain. Day in & day out without any relief in sight. I’d already been on high level pain meds for years at this point. Not your Percocets or Norcos that I could take like candy at that point with no effect. I’m talking Morphine grade prescription drugs. The strongest stuff at the strongest doses and still nothing could dull the pain at times. Especially when I’d wake up in the morning literally feeling like I’d ben hit by a truck. Or that stakes had been nailed into my shoulders and hips over night. Most of the time I couldn’t even localize where the pain was coming from. My entire body was eclipsed in pain like a full body migraine.
We all think we know what pain feels like. What we don’t realize that there is no end to the levels of pain that we could be in. It's like Dante’s levels of hell, just when you think it cannot get any worse, you drop another level. As a doctor, we always made fun of the patients that would come in wailing that there pain was an 11 or 15 or a 30. We grade pain on a scale of 1 to 10 with 10 being the worse pain imaginable. Well I’d had gone way past ten. I could never have imagined what I have had to endure. We all think that pleasure and pain most be at least somewhat commensurate in this life. Well that’s bonkers. On the pleasure - pain continuum I came to realize that pain end of the spectrum goes on for miles compared to pleasure’s mere meters in comparison.
And I knew pleasure. I’d had surf waves up and down both coasts of the continental US as well as Hawaii, moshed at thousands of concerts headlined by a veritable who’s who of punk and indie rock, graduated from an esteemed Ivy League college and medical school, and gotten married on a mountain top overlooking Arches National Park in Moab, Utah. And best of all, I was a Daddy to two wonderful little girls.
So this couldn’t be happening to me, right? Right?!
The doctor struck the tuning fork against the bony part of his hand as I had done a thousand times before. He pressed its end against the bony part of my big toe. And again, I felt just a muted buzz where there should have vibratory buzzsaw.
It all became clear. And sometimes clarity sucks.
Everyone of course assumes that being neurologist and knowing exactly what was going on would be helpful in such a situation. Well, bullocks to that. Because there was no ignorance or uncertainty to soften the blow. I knew exactly what this meant - I was fucked - and exactly what my prognosis was - I was fucking FUCKED.
You see now everything made sense - the inability to pee, the constipation, the struggle to breathe, the severe pain that wracked my entire body, and the bizarre wasting and atrophy of my muscles. The sensory nerves that made up the autonomic and peripheral nerves of my body were dying. Being attacked by my own antibodies that had mistakenly identified my own peripheral and autonomic nerves as the enemy. It was a big misunderstanding. And it was going to kill me in the most horrible way imaginable - a slow, creeping, crippling and unimaginably painful death.
On the ride back home from the doctor’s office, I felt surprisingly nothing. I just went numb. I think I might even have laughed. What else was there else to do? There were no cures. No colorful pills that would make everything better. No surgeries to ease the pain. My disease was one in a billion so there were no experimental treatments line up. And the drugs to minimize and ameliorate the symptoms range from ineffective to harmful. In short, there was nothing that Western medicine could do. And who better to know that than me, a trained neurologist at one of the finest rehabilitation hospitals in the world.
As my wife drive us home, she kept looking over at me. Waiting for some kind of reaction. But I felt nothing. Just emptiness. I felt sadness for my little girls who now seemed destined to grow up without having a Daddy. I felt sadness for me. I felt sadness for everyone in a similar plight. Everyone who came face to face with the reality that life is often meaningless. That no, everything doesn’t happen for a reason. Sometimes life is just fucking cruel.
I walked into the house and headed straight downstairs to my sound system. Normally, I would have just put on The Cure’s Pornography, but instead put on this record I had just bought the day before...
If you want to come as close as you can to knowing how I felt at that moment, I encourage you to give it a spin. I surrendered into its nothingness which was a mirror to my own. But underneath that nothingness was something more. Some spark of being part of something bigger than myself. I resolved to not give up. To not surrender.
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