Attack of the Killer Bees - Archers of Loaf - All The Nations Airports - 1996

Instrumental...though it is impressive that Bachman could make his guitar sound like a killer bee.

Atom Eyes - Guided By Voices - Under the Bushes Under the Sky - 1996

Tobin Sprout's songs on the Guided by Voices albums that came out during the reign of the "classic" line-up are always a bit of an enigma. It seems inconceivable that an ego as outsized as Bob Pollard's could allow another songwriter, even a minor one, to have his moment in the spot light. Beyond that, Sprout's songs, while rarely bad (And this, along with Alien Lanes' "Little Whirl" is probably one of the two best), are generally pretty mundane affairs. Typically the fall into the niche of sub-REM mid-90's indie rock. Eschewing the arena rock gestures that always elevated GBV's lo fi days, Tobin's songs were...nice, and little more. And by and large they were interchangable, offering little sonic variation.

So again, the question is...how did they make it onto GBV albums that were already overflowing with tracks? I have no good answer...there is a temptation to say that Bob put them on the record to showcase how much they were inferior to his work...but that is hardly being fair to Uncle Bob. Also arguable is that Bob, always the coneisseur of the classic rock move, decided he needed a George Harrison to his Lennon/McCartney, a Spiral Stairs to his Malkmus...which isn't outside the realms of possiblility. Or perhaps Bob just liked Tobin's songs...we don't have an answer...instead, they just stand as interesting side alleys on albums already full of experiments, both succesful and less so.

Assassination on X-Mas Eve - Archers of Loaf - All The Nations Airports - 1996

After dropping off the car, we had a fair bit of spare time, thanks to Anand's action star driving. We got back into London and into the hotel. After that, it was back to North London on the above-ground transit train to get ready for the game. At this point it was reality...we were going to see Arsenal play a Champions League match...live! At Emirates Stadium! It was no longer the prize at the end of our trip, it was now the reality of our evening and we were going to enjoy the hell out of it.

After briefly considering a few of the other restaurants we ended up back at The Famous Cock. We figured one more night of British Pub food wouldn't kill us. As Rance pointed out, the food in that country was like someone left a 12 year old in charge of the entire cuisine.

"What do you want for dinner little Allister?"

"I want sausages and mashed potatoes, all covered in gravy!!! I want everything in a pot pie. And I want french fries at every meal!"

After 3 beers and a shot, it was time to make our way to the stadium. We walked down the street with the throngs of people all feeling the same excitement as us. The big game was coming and we were going to be there.

All the Nation's Aiports is the only Archer's album that I owned during the life of the band, I came around to the rest of their catalog after their demise. Sadly, I never got to see them live...though I've seen Crooked Fingers many times and Bachman solo once, I will always feel as if I missed one of the great bands of my generation by not seeing these guys. This song rocks.

The Ash Gray Proclamation - Robert Pollard - Not In My Airforce - 1996

Glasgow on a chilly February Sunday late night is not the most hoping place place in the world. We made our way up the street, trying to follow the bad directions the well intentioned woman at the desk had given us. The first place we found that was open was an old man bar on an empty block called The Avalon.

The old Scots still in attendance were nice enough and the beer was certainly tasty after spending all day in the car. We decided to sample the house scotch, which was on sale for 2 Pounds, but for some reason the scotch tasted like tequila. At first we thought that perhaps the glasses hadn't been well washed, but ultimately we determined that this scotch just finished like tequila...and I fucking hate tequila.

We struck up a conversation with a couple of older scots about bars in the neighborhood and where we could find a place that would serve drinks late. They pointed us in the direction of Sauchehaugh street (which is where our geographically challenged receptionist had been trying to send us in the first place) and gave us some tips about the city. In typical Scottish fashion, the tips were fairly doom laden.

Old Scot - "Can't see why you'd want to spend a vacation here, this is town's a shit hole. But you can go to some of the bars on Sauchhaugh St. They're open late, and they're safe?"

Us - "Are there not safe bars?"

Old Scot - Nods solemnly

So, we made our way down Sauchhaugh St. which is basically just a row of college bars like you'd find in any American city. The primary difference being that the drinking age is 18 rather than 21, so the population of the bar is even younger...or at least less in need of a good fake ID.

We found a booth in the back, and tried not to feel helplessly old as we watched Scottish kids get drunk and make out. We stayed out till nearly 3 before throwing in the towel, happy that we still managed to squeeze some life into our a day that had been mostly spent in transit.

Pollard shows his softer side on this one. A nice acoustic song, of the sort he'd try more and more as the years wore on. Not the best thing on Not In My Airforce, but certainly not the worst.

Anon - Low - The Curtain Hits The Cast - 1996

"Anon" was actually the answer to a NY Times crossword puzzle question this week. "Soon, poetically" was the clue...I came through for my work crossword team on that one.

Low, being low.

The Angel With Good News - Zumpano - Goin' Through Changes - 1996

I was coming home from a birthday dinner at a Mexican place in my hood last night, when I saw something that basically proved that humanity lives for Schadenfreude. Walking down Union St. I saw a middle aged balding man in sweat pants and a t-shirt awkwardly carrying a deli bag in one hand and a granny cart in the other. As he was walking it was clear that he was either crazy, drunk, or having an exceptional bad day that was effecting his public composure. He seemed to have trouble carrying his two belongings, and he was continually muttering in an angry whisper at whatever boogie monsters he was seeing.

As he walked, he was attempting to unfold the granny cart and the handle got snagged on his pants. All the sudden the baggy sweat pants were around his ankles. Thankfully he was wearing boxers. But instead of the obliviousness you usually get from the half naked crazies in the city, he was totally mortified. He immediately dropped everything and started struggling to pull up his pants, but whatever condition he was suffering some made this extremely difficult. He pulled at his sweats while the angry mutters of "Ohhh geez, ohhhh man" got louder.

We were probably less than 10 feet behind him when it happened, and 3 of the 5 people in our party were lovely young women, which probably did not help his extreme embarrasment. We did our best to make it to the other side of before we burst out into laughter...but I had to think he heard us.

Anyway, due to the coincidences of song titles, I've already had plenty of opportunity to complain about what I a disappointingly limp album I find The New Pornographer's Challengers to be...but it was not completely unprecedented. The second Zumpano album was something of a disappointment to those that loved the bouyancy of the first. Songs like The Angel With Good News might have pleased the fans who wanted Zumpano to persue its more Harry Nilson/Burt Bacharach vibes...but for those of us who loved the power pop drive of the first album, it was, with a few exceptions, something of a snooze fest. This song is a prime example of said snooze fest.

Do

Along The Banks of the River - Tortoise - Millions Now Living Will Never Die - 1996

Has anyone else noticed the odd trend towards giant men's watches? It's like people are going to start wearing sundials and old school alarm clocks on their wrists before it's all over. Anyone who saw Roberto Donadoni's watch at the Euro 2008 games will know exactly what I'm talking about. If you didn't...Google that shit.

With their obvious debts to Ennio Morricone and Angelo Badalamenti, Scottish post-rock bands like Tortoise and Mogwai always owed something to the cinema. But following Mogwai's work on 28 Day's Later, it seems like post-rock has become the defacto music for edgy, tense soundtracks. The backwards effect of this is to make even post-rock albums that pre-date this trend seem like soundtracks. I listen to this, and I expect to be stumbling upon Laura Palmer's body any second now.

All The Negatives Have Been Destroyed - Spoon - Telephono - 1996

So this new ice cream place opened up on my block this weekend. Okay, you're thinking...ice cream memorial day weekend, nice weather, ice cream...what could be better? But the issue is a touch more complicated than all that. My once predominately west indian block is facing the ever present Brooklynite threat of "Gentrification"...and to make matters worse, the ice cream shop was marketed explicitly to children, including providing a "play space" for children in the back room. All day long on Saturday (literally all day long...) there were lines of strollers coming out the store.

For those that haven't followed such items as this:
http://www.nytimes.com/2008/05/18/fashion/18slope.html?ex=1368676800&en=2d86b649d544b327&ei=5124&partner=facebook&exprod=facebook
...the stroller is something of a symbol for everything a certain contingent of us do not want to see Brooklyn become. So seeing this line of strollers, all day long, ignoring the countless chicken wing-bones and broken glass on the sidewalk...just to access a glorified McDonald land park did not sit well with me.

I do have to say though...the ice cream was pretty decent.

Anyway, this is from Spoon's first album, before they had really figured out their own identity and were still trying to be a Texan Pixies clone. This is one of the better songs off of Telephono though.

All The Nations Airports - Archers of Loaf - All The Nations Airports - 1996

If Iwere to chart a progression in my musical tastes then this album would hold a fairly signifigant place. Not that I loved it that much at the time, or love it that much now, or even listen to it much these days...but Archers of Loaf is the point at which I stepped out from the shadows of Alternative Nation and started actually following "Indie Rock" rather than a corporate idea of what that concept was supposed to be.

I sometimes take some shit/feel self-concious that I wasn't one of those guys you meet who were into the Pixies in 7th grade, that never had bad taste, that were seemingly born cool. But then I think about the circumstances, I had no older brother, there were no college stations in Kokomo Indiana, and no cable tv in the Geary household (I lived with my grandparents in High School, long story). All things considered the path from GnR to U2/REM to Led Zeppelin to Nirvana to Pearl Jam to real indie rock isn't so bad. At least I was never in a Garth Brooks phase. And besides, those people that were always cool...they are generally assholes.

Afraid Himself to Be - Jason Faulkner - Present Author Unknown - 1996

In my late teens/early twenties I had a lot of fondness for guys like Jason Faulkner. Sharp witted guys with broken hearts and a knack for writing a catchy tune. Faulkner is like Matthew Sweet but with the bitterness dialed down (and without the stable of post-punk guitar heroes). Not my favorite track, but pleasant enough...and like any of his tunes, plenty hum-able.

Across The Sea - Weezer - Pinkerton - 1996

A friend of mine who used to work for MTV productions told me a story about how while setting up a Weezer concert they had to wheel Rivers Cuomo out to the stage inside of a crate, so that he wouldn't have to interact with anyone.

When he first arrived on the scene he seemed like validation to all of us nerds, little did we know this guy was far more fucked up and awful than any of us could ever claim to be. Pinkerton was the first clue that this was the case.

I mean, sure dude, we all like to think about teenage Japanese girls masturbating, but most of us don't say that out loud, let alone write a song about it.

Across The Great Divide - Semisonic - Great Divide - 1996

And speaking as we were of 90's nostalgia music...

Acromegaly - Archers of Loaf - All The Nations Airports - 1996

I completely messed up my sleep schedule over the weekend and just can not get it back on track. Was in bed at 1030 last night only to be wide awake at 545. This is not good.

Instrumental track from the Archers, showing off Bachman's weird guitar tuning. Not much else to say about this one.

Acorns and Orioles - Guided by Voices - Under Bushes, Under Stars - 1996

One of the few things I miss about the midwest is the sound of trains. I can think of few sounds more evocative than a train whistle blowing in the night, off in the distance. According to the GBV book, Hunting Accidents, Bob wrote this song after walking along the train tracks late at night smoking a joint. And as a fellow midwesterner, Bob captured it perfectly. The shimmery feedback- y noise in the back ground perfectly captures the sad foreboding that the of the song. And as usual, Pollard's trick of making a seemingly meaningless phrase heavy with implied feeling is wonderfully executed. By the time he's chanting "I can't tell you anything, you don't already know" you feel like the weight of 1,000, 000 fights rests on the back of those lyrics.

Truly a great, great song.