Stuff That I Like

I've been to Amoeba Records in the Haight-Ashbury district in San Francisco a few times, but I haven't seen Mates of State. I did hear some intriguing rapster once while I was browsing in the fantastic store, my second favorite music store anywhere--Twist & Shout in Denver gets my nod here, partly due to it being closer to a hometown place (I still consider myself to be a Coloradoan, I say to myself, we're just vacationing in Texas for a couple years). The other reason is that I think Twist & Shout always did a better job on the presentation aspect, sensibly organizing related books along with the CDs, and having nice listening areas (including information about the CDs) at the ends of many aisles. Of course, that's all based on their old location on Alameda--the wife Kathy has been to the new one, I haven't; plus, I rarely bother visiting "hardware" stores anymore, as I moving toward digitizing my collection.

Mates of State is just fun, and cute of course. A bit of a throwback sound, and the no-longer-novelty of boy-girl duet. Kathy gets into it, as does her fun-lovin'-girlfriend back "home" in Colorado Springs.

As a die-hard Kinks fan, how could I not be interested in hearing what The Village Green sounded like? I picked up their first EP a few years ago, and thought it was pretty good. Feeling the Fall, from 2006, was another matter--this was one of those rare albums that I liked through-and-through. So, what do they sound like? Maybe mid-70s, Sleepwalker era Kinks, if you wanted to stretch the Kinks relationship, but really, they sound just like Supergrass.

Supergrass, for whatever reason, is one of those bands who seem to fall beneath everyone's radar, yet they put out five good-to-great albums between 1995 and 2005. Diamond Hoo Ha, which just came out, is their first album in three years. I've listened once, perhaps I'll post my impressions once I get a chance to go back to it a few more times.

I ran a 3-hour radio show at WMUC-FM in College Park, Maryland (I wonder, how many states have a town named College Park, College Station, or something similar?) from 1983 through 1985, overlapping some of the prime "harDCore" years. I had the opportunity to see a few of the bands, and to be honest, few of them did much for me. Minor Threat (who I didn't see), were ok by me at the time (but let's not even name MacKaye's overly self-righteous follow-up act), Government Issue, fine for the most part, but I found the bulk of the other DC hardcore bands to be forgettable or even annoying. I won't name names, but try listening to Flex Your Head, a Dischord compilation from the era, and you'll hear what I mean.

But I did like Marginal Man quite a bit. I think the bassist Andre Lee was in one of my classes at Maryland, their singer (Polcari?) hung out at my show one night, and I've exchanged emails with guitarist Kenny Inouye (yes, related to that Inouye). Marginal Man had actual songs, the singer wasn't completely unlistenable, they could play, and they seemed like good fun guys (i.e. not overly serious, unlike some guy/band I've already named).

Yes, I even know all the words and could sing along. The linked video contains some introductory messing around, but is shortly followed by "Tell Me."

I'm a sucker for cheap romance and bubblegum. The Queers track "I Think She's Starting to Like Me," from their 2007 album Munki Brain, embodies many of my favorite qualities in two minutes:

• a memorable hook
• pretty non-word harmonies
• cheesy lyrics
• prominent piano chords

The only downside is that Joe Queer must be getting old and soft, like me, as the number of happy Beach Boys-like tunes has been increasing over the years. I guess that's why I'm ok with it. Still, everyone needs to sing lyrics like "I'm really going no nowhere, I hate this sh*tty life, f*ck the world I'm hanging out with you tonight" once in a while.

To listen, check out the list of songs at their myspace site, http://www.myspace.com/thequeers.

The Queers are touring the US starting in late May and running into June. It's a blast of a show, particularly for those who missed the Ramones when they were around (2000+ shows, how could you miss going to at least one?), or were too young. One song after another, no stops, and just about every one memorable. I have to figure Joe is going to call it quits not too far out, so see 'em while you can.

While searching for something else, I stumbled across The Flowers of Hell, seemingly a derivative Velvet Underground troupe that eschews vocals. Think more of the John Cage-ish and viola aspect of the Velvets; the video will give you an idea of their somewhat droning sound. Apparently there are lots of people on both sides of the Atlantic, many that you've heard of, that comprise and/or contribute to this very fluid group. I note on their home page that the North American configuration recently reproduced the entire of the Velvet Underground's Live At Max's Kansas City set. I'm looking forward to hearing what they do with the Jesus & Mary Chain's "Darklands."

For now, please visit http://www.igraq.tv/video/flowers2.swf to view the live track.

I visited Ireland in March, arriving on March 17 (my birthday, for which everyone world-wide, and the Irish in particular, choose to get drunk and celebrate me with a parade). Heading out from the airport, I picked up a cheap (6 euros--perhaps $2,500 nowadays?) Irish whistle. Like a kid, I couldn't wait to try it out, but didn't want to get yelled at by the stewardess (yeah, yeah, they show me more respect and I'll call them flight attendants again), so I bagged it until I got home.

I'm not the most disciplined of learners; I just try to play what I know. My two staples so far are "Danny Boy" and "Fiesta," mostly because these songs go well with the learning range of the tin whistle's D major scale. (Well, "Fiesta" it turns out is in a different key, per the video clip here, but I'm not trying to play along yet. And I don't think there's even a whistle in the recording.) I've also gotten good at chasing everyone out of the room by going up a couple octaves, where I can't control a single note.

The video clip of "Fiesta" is a great example of ridiculous 80s videos, made all the more annoying by how bad Shane is at lip-synching. His performance here reminds me of the laugh-inducing lip-synch job Jonathan Richman did in "There's Something About Mary."

(Speaking of which, I saw Jonathan last year, also around my birthday, at the Gypsy Team Room in Dallas shortly before it closed for good. I got to stand at the edge of the 4-foot-high stage. Fortunately, Jonathan didn't have to lip-synch, and the show was very entertaining. Lots of Spanish guitar songs, and many ludicrous poses with the maracas.)

The Sick-Bed of Cuchulainn is a thousand-year-old Irish story that tells of the mythological hero Cuchulainn, who gets whipped in his dreams by some rather twisted women. The beating causes him to suffer from wasting disease for more than a year, not in his dreams. Enticed by an underworld character Angus, some heroics and shenanigans go on after that; apparently Angus' wife ends up lusting after Cuchulainn. I found a beautiful hundred-year-old translation that didn't help clarify the convoluted story too much.

The song by the Pogues opens up their most powerful album, Rum, Sodomy, and the Lash, a wonderful treatise on love, drinking, and dying. Shane MacGowan sets the hero in more modern times--as he lays wasting, the narrator recalls how he resisted Mussolini's fascist Blackshirts and enlisted Frank Ryan's booze in fights against fascism, racism, British rule, and God knows what else.

The video shows Shane giving up a nice strong vocal, apparently not too long before his wasting disease took over.

Best lyric: 'Then they'll take you to Cloughprior and shove you in the ground, but you'll stick your head back out and shout "we'll have another round."'