The Severed Cortex

Link: http://www.mcrut.com/mcrut/

I suppose there are those of a certain age, say 25 and under, that only know Perry Farrell as the guy who started Lollapalooza.  And, oh yeah, he used to be in a band.  For my generation that character was played by Bob Geldof.  However, there is one big difference between Bob Geldof and Perry Farrell.  Geldof's band, The Boomtown Rats, were nowhere near as good of a band as Farrell's band, Jane's Addiction.  Almost no one cites the Rats as an influence.  Almost everyone cites Juana's Adiccion.  And for good reason.  Along with bands like Nirvana, The Red Hot Chili Peppers, and Pearl Jam, they formed the core of what came to be known as the Alternative music movement.  Together they laid the groundwork for a radical shift in the kind of music, that until then, was never heard on the radio.  At least not during the light of day in middle America.  Now the furthest thing from alternative is anything labeled as Alternative music.

So given Jane's Addiction's stature, it would be no surprise that there might be a band somewhere wanting to copy that sound.  Hey, bands copy other bands sound all the time.  It's the nature of the art.  As a music snob I can respect that.  Tribute bands aside, that doesn't give a band carte blanche to sound exactly like another band.  In fact, it should be discouraged at all costs in my opinion.  In my experience, bands that set out to copy another band's sound usually only succeed in putting out a far inferior product.  When you set out to copy a band like Jane's Addiction, you have a very steep hill to climb.

Do I know that Middle Class Rut set out to copy Jane's Addiction?  In the words of Justin Timberlake as Robin Gibb: No, no I don't.

Take the 30 second spin through all the tracks on 25 Years and make up your own mind as to whether they did or not.  I think you'll agree that if they didn't blatently copy (and I don't think they did), they at least owe a giant debt to the band (I think they do).  Probably some royalties too.  Technically that's not true.  Every song on here is an original and to the band's credit the songs are well done.  There's just no equivalent to any of the great Jane's Addiction songs.  There are plenty that measure up to the level of say Chip Away or Had a Dad or Obvious, but none in the vaunted Pigs In Zen or Jane Says realm.  Second tier Jane's Addiction songs I know, but still songs that spark a pleasure point in your earhole when you hear them today.  At least they still do for me.  All this bashing doesn't mean this is a piece of crap that you should stay far away from.  25 Years is not a bad EP at all.  It's just not a great EP either.  If you are a very devout Jane's Addiction fan like me, you can appreciate this CD for what it is; a fairly well done homage to a great band.   That's the only thing that could possibly explain why I broke my rule against buying EP's.   At least that's my story and I'm sticking to it.

Link: http://www.lrs.com

They say there is no such thing as bad publicity, but then again no one wants to see their corporate logo sitting upside down on a race track.  The important thing is that Daniel walked away unscathed which is pretty amazing given that he hit the wall at an estimated 250 mph.  We all know what happened to Scott Kalitta last year.  Credit this amazing feat of survival to the safety measures of NHRA, of which Daniel's dad Tim is on the committee.

Link: http://www.psychostick.com/

In these tough economic times there's one thing that all of us could use and that's a good laugh.   Sure, you can try something above board and family friendly, but when you really need a laugh and all else fails break out the Psychostick my friends.   If you can lower yourself to the sorts of things that a 14 year old boy would find funny, and many of my friends can, Psychostick will bring about much guffawing.  Not that my friends guffaw a lot.

Since the dawn of recorded music, pretty much every genre music has produced a comedic version of themselves.   While earlier generations were stuck with listening to something as awful as Ray Stevens, the latest generation has a plethora of comedic song talent available from Asylum Street Spankers to Tenacious D.   Somewhere mixed in there is the awful, awful genre of filk music.  Ugh.  Filk aside, outside of the obvious Spinal Tap the metal genre is suprisingly missing from the group of self flagellators.  I chalk that up to the fact that metal guys have no humor.   Just like joggers, you never see a death metal guy smiling.  At least not without fresh blood dripping from his lips.  Stupid joggers and their hunger for blood.  I mean death metal guys.  OK, I don't really know that for sure.  I just heard the Reverend Horton Heat say that death metal guys eat brains.  Psychostick is not death metal, instead they refer to themselves as humorcore.  That definition would be music without brains.

Under normal circumstances I would have alienated any self respecting audience with the threat of juvenile humor and metal music.  For those that have gone on the ride so far, ask yourself this.  Have I let you down before?  (And for those that answered yes, I still say that Abba Greatest Hits thing is cool.)   Trust me though, this metal humor works, or at least for most of the massive release of 18 songs it does.  Ha, ha.  I said massive release.  Be prepared for more.  It really is that juvenile, but lost in all these 'humor' songs is the underlying fact that this band can flat out play.  They skewer a wide variety of metal music and do them all with legitimate playing skills.   Unfortunately no one cares about that stuff so we'll get back to the juvenile lyrics of shitlick, penis stink, and anal butter.  Psychostick lives by the sword of boob humor, blonde humor, beer humor, and body odor humor, and they package it all in one handy CD.   Along the ride they occasionally die by that same sword.  Case in point are all the food parodies they cook up.  In my opinion they have far too many songs about food, but even I have to admit Weird Al did a great job with My Bologna, Eat It and I'm Fat.  Yo, ding dong man, ding dong, ding dong, yo.  Still makes me laugh.  Psychostick really delivers the goods with This is Not a Song, It's a Sandwich and The Hunger Within, but fall far short with Orange and Do You Want a Taco? As it turns out, no, I do not.  But I do want most of this CD.  Caffiene, Shower, and Girl Directions, despite its overwhelming use of the f word, are all pretty effin' funny.   And the best song may be the satirical parody of formula music titled #1 Radio $ingle.   It's not quite as entertaining as Robbie Fulks Fountains of Wayne Hotline, but it does take a much deeper stab at the industry at large.  And for that alone I like Psychostick.

OK, who am I fooling?  I like the juvenile stuff mostly and so does my 14 year old nephew.  Lighten up a little.  So should you.

Link: http://www.fcc.gov/commissioners/genachowski/speeches2009.html

Does the internet need to be corralled in order to remain unbounded as it is today?  You may have read that question twice to understand it, but when you boil it down that's the basic underlying question of net neutrality.  Today, the technology exists to block certain kinds of network traffic, whether that be a particular geographic area or perhaps an application.  I understand the need to be able to monitor network traffic and adapt accordingly.  That I like.  I also understand that when taken to the nth degree, it would be entirely possible for a ISP or telecom to block or reroute whatever they choose.  Some argue that choice may be exercised by restricting or impeding a competitor.  Or worse, you and me.  That I don't like.   When corporations are allowed to act with impunity, the track record shows that consumers lose out.

Two days ago, six senators got their collective panties in a bunch when FCC Chairman Genachowski announced his new plan to put regulations in place.  Before I could link to a story about it, they had already changed their minds.   I encourage you to read the press release from Chairman Genochowski and start to form your own opinion, keeping in mind that details are scarce and this will evolve over time.

Link: http://www.jonesbigasstruckrentalandstorage.com/

For real.  You ain't the Dukes of Hazzard.

Link: http://www.clarionledger.com/article/20090920/SPORTS030102/909200363/1079/-D--turns-in-gem

I wasn't about to ring the Bulldog cowbell after beating lowly Jackson State 45-7.  There's Division I (BCS), there's Division I-AA (FCS), and then there is the SWAC.  Yes, the SWAC conference has put together some of the finest football programs in the country, not to mention a slew of Hall of Fame players like Walter Payton, Jerry Rice et. al., but the conference has never been known to routinely beat up on SEC opponents.  In fact, it never has.  As my old pal Al Hicks used to say, this time and one more will make two.  This was the first time ever that a SEC school played a football game against a team from the SWAC.  Historic.  Let the record show: SEC 1, SWAC 0.

I also wasn't about to get all liquored up on Jim Beam and coke in stadium cups over the Auburn game either.  Maybe I should have?  In fact, I'd rather just gloss right over that part.  Why is it that every time State plays on TV they get pummelled?  (No need to point out they get pummelled a lot.  I know.) I do give a tip of the hat to the Auburn offensive line and the dual running back threat of Ben Tate and Ontario McCalebb.  'Nuff said.

I will clang the bell this week as the Bulldogs get their first SEC win against the Eastern Division perennial doormat Vanderbilt.  Vandy appeared to look like the Vandy of old, not the Vandy that went 7-6 and knocked off Boston College in their own back yard bowl game last year.  Still, a win is a win and I am happy to take them as I get them.  Baby steps.  Next week is LSU in Starkville.  We all know how this will end.  All I can hope for is a moral victory ... and perhaps that it won't be on TV anywhere near me.

Link: http://www.crackersoul.com/

It's no secret that Cracker is one of my favorite bands.  I think over the years we've established that.  When I tell people that Cracker is one of my favorite bands I most often get a quizzical look.  Cracker?  Who is that?  Only after you play Low, or Eurotrash Girl, or Get Off This or Teen Angst for them does the light bulb go on.  Oh!  Those guys.  Yeah, those guys.  When you point out that Sunrise in the Land of Milk and Honey is their 10th real studio release, you have to wonder why these guys aren't more of a household name.

I listened to Camper van Beethoven long before Cracker was around and for good reason.  David Lowery is one hell of a witty songwriter.  Because Lowery is out front in both of those bands it's no surprise that they sound similar, and thus I like them both.  Even for the initiated, it's hard to tell a Camper song from a Cracker song.  Even Lowery admits he blurs the line sometimes.  One sure way to know it's Cracker is if there's a kick ass Johnny Hickman guitar riff.  This record has several of those riffs, but at the same time it plays along the same themes as Camper van Beethoven's latest release New Roman Times.  (I bought it but never reviewed it).  Suffice it to say there wer plenty of witticisms on the U.S. war machine, the end of the empire, culture (at large), and chewing gum.  This release talks slightly less about chewing gum.

There's plenty of the U.S. war machine though, starting off with the brilliant Yalla Yalla.  Lowery is able to produce a character study complete with authentic military slang.   In typical wry fashion, those that relate to the character probably don't understand that he's deliberately poking fun.   At the same time those who realize the character is a stereotype now know their CHU from a pogue.  It just proves that it's possible to learn and be a smart ass at the same time.   If the smart aleck doesn't appeal to you maybe your inner slacker will relate to Turn In, Tune In, Drop Out With Me.  You can probably guess the theme of the song.  No wryness needed.  I Could Be Wrong, I Could Be Right is just a good old fashioned blues rock song featuring the guitar god that is Johnny Hickman.  On top that that, this Cracker release does have something a little different.  There are several big names that guest appear.  John Doe, of the seminal West Coast punk band X, appears in the  anti-war song We All Shine A Light.  Adam Duritz, of Counting Crows fame, sings on Darling One and  Patterson Hood from Drive By Truckers sings alongside Lowery on Friends, which can somewhat arguably be called a take on the Merle Haggard/Willie Nelson duet Pancho and Lefty.  It certainly is within the spirit of the song, updated for the new milleneum of course.  You could see why Patterson Hood would make a good choice for something like that.  The same could be said about David Lowery.

The rest of the album does what most every other Cracker album does and that is provide you with solid songs told in flavors of country, blues, pop, and rock and roll.  There's even a somewhat punk tune.   None of this will make you stand up and say wow.   There is no instant gratification.  Instead you'll get a good solid journeyman rock and roll kind of record that will give you something good every time you listen to it again.  Enjoy my friends.  Enjoy.

Link: http://www.livingthingsmusic.com/

Lord knows I love things dysfunctional, especially when they come via the art form.  Specifically, when you get a group of dysfunctional individuals together in a band you can usually count on something explosive to happen.  Few from the current youth generation remember a time when Aerosmith couldn't even stand the thought of taking the stage together.  Arguably, it happened at the same moment they were considered to be at their musical best.  The same can be said for the Pixies or Oasis or any number of bands that lived on the edge of burning out in a blaze of glory.  There's something about mental tension between artists and their art form that brings out something extra, making people stand up and take note.

What happens when that dysfunction is planned out ahead of time?  I'm not talking reality show planned out.  I'm talking about when all the pieces seem to fit together just a little too perfectly.  Enter Living Things, three brothers, and their friend, from none other than the whitebread suburbs of northwest Saint Louis county.  How could that be dysfunctional you ask?  Well, the brothers were raised by what can be described as a left wing loony mother and a carny father.  They got the musical bug as small kids by playing at the carnivals their dad travelled to.  Sort of like Hanson, but most likely much darker.  Playing carnivals most certainly warped them.  Need proof?   They refer to themselves as Lillian Berlin, Eve Berlin, and Bosh Berlin?  Yes, they do.  Starting to get the dysfunctional picture now?  Although I know little about Cory Becker, the other member, I'll assume he has his share of issues too.  Guilt by association.

Tired of midwest sensabilities, the boys run off to L.A., land a very quick record deal, and continue the unlikely good fortune by working with none other than Steve Albini for their debut on Jive Records, a very mainstream label.  You may not be a fan of Albini's music starting with Big Black, but I guarantee you love something that Steve Albini produced.  Once you start  bandying Steve Albini's name in reference to your record, you pretty much are at the pinnacle of the unheralded music world.  Living Things music seems to move past being a good band that no one ever hears about though.

They manage to do that by making what is considerally more of  a mainstream record than their debut. For Habeaus Corpus, the band didn't use Steve Albini.  Why stay the best unknown band if you don't have to?  You have the musical chops, you have the stage presence, and you have the background story.  Might as well kick it up a notch, right?  So is this whole thing choreographed by some master puppeteer?  Probably, but if so, it does manage to crank out several good tunes along the way.  Most notable are the first four songs.  Brass Knuckles sets the tone by kicking out a straight ahead rocker highlighted by fuzzy guitars and some nifty vocal hooks.  Mercedes Marxist showcases the lefty leanings of Lillian, and I presume the other members too.  In fairness he does refer to both the left wing and right wing as parasites.  It's clear that mom's teachings are an influence as there is an overt reference to her mid song.  Let it Rain can't get any more mainstream since it sounds like it should be heard in any number of movies or TV shows.  Normally that would turn me off but it doesn't in this case.  Oxygen is a slight step down from the first three but still packs a punch.  From that point on, the album sort of levels off, with the exception of Island In Your Heart which is just plain awful.  Everything else maintains the same guitar fuzz and vocal hooks just like the first half of the record, especially Shake Your Shimmy, but the songs don't quite live up to the power of the lead tracks.  The rest of the songs also contain a fair amount a left leaning politics so if that ain't your thing you may be turned off.  I take them with a grain of salt.  There's plenty of protest music in rock and roll, as well as whatever you classify Ted Nugent and Charlie Daniels as.  There's room for everyone if you ask me.   The point is, with different lyrics you'd be humming these songs in your car regardless of political leanings for no other reason than they are solid pop songs.

If this meteoric rise to this point has been nothing more than a choreographed progression designed specifically to become the next big thing, you can't argue that it hasn't worked.  There is enough good material, and I'm sure enough residual income, to warrant another studio release.  Provided of course the dysfunction, planned or not, winds up pushing the band over the edge.  If it does happen, this record will probably be considered their finest work.  Get in on it now while you can.

Yes. Yes I did.

I figure if I'm going to go ahead and give you all this sage musical wisdom, the least you could do is to give me a nickel or so for my troubles.  One of the reasons for upgrading my blog software was to add better content.  It just so happens that in my language the words 'better content' is a synonym for generate revenue.   Bread. Dough. Green. Wampum. Cheddar. Dead presidents.  I figure that if you are going to buy a recording, and you based some of that decision making on input you gathered from this blog, you should go ahead and take food out of the mouths of children of corporate entities and instead put that food in my mouth.  No I'm not a greedy capitalist pig.  At least not completely. I'm not going to get rich from this by any stretch of the imagination.  I get 5% whether you buy from Amazon or iTunes so take your pick as to which one you prefer.

And so to kick off my brilliant 'make a ton of money and take over the world scheme', I offer you this delightful choice.  This is my pick for most underrated pop record of all time.  Neon & Ruin is the first release from the band Slender Means who hail from Seattle.  This 2005 record flew under the radar completely, but after a couple spins you'll wonder why.  Every song on here is a pop gem full of great hooks and infectious melodies.  Get drawn in by Painless Life and learn to love (and relate to) The Clerk.  Rumor is that they will be releasing something new this year.  I say that as if I'm somehow privy to the Seattle music scene.  I think I read it somewhere.  Get this record while it is still in print in the meantime.

Just in case you wondered, I have still been hanging out with Robert regularly even if I haven't written about it. August marked our 3rd anniversary with BBBS and surprisingly he still likes hanging out with me. That's even after I tricked him and his sister into eating a hot pepper last week. His sister didn't fall for it so much. She just took a small nibble off the tip of the pepper. Robert bit off a chunk, and before it could get hot in his mouth he bit off another one. It got hot about 0.2 seconds after that and he desparately searched for ice cream, swigged a whole Sprite, and begged Nancy for milk to drink. And before you give me a bunch of grief, let me say in my defense that I did tell them the peppers were sort of hot. Hey, no one told me that the persimmons would suck all the moisture out of my mouth for hours when the camp counselor tricked me into eating one of those. It's a life lesson and it's not like I tricked them into eating a dog turd.

Since the last time I wrote about Robert we have done a ton of cool things. One of the coolest was going to the NHRA drag races at Gateway National. Extra loud of course but plenty cool. Our guy is Tim Wilkerson and he drives the top fuel Levi, Ray & Shoup Funny Car. Yes, you read that right. My company sponsors a professional drag racer. If you've never seen an 8,000 horsepower car drive 1000 feet in 4 seconds in person, let me tell you it is quite awe inspiring. Bring earplugs. I've had the pleasure of meeting Tim and he's a hell of a nice guy. How he manages to be so calm and collected after being subjected to the mighty G-forces a funny car produces is beyond me. I've heard the impact of opening the chute at that speed will make your eyeballs pop out if you don't close your eyes. Man, if it were me, I'd be wound tighter than a mantle clock at the Home for the OCD. For those not in the know of drag racing, and you can place me squarely in that category up until this year, there are four main classes: Top Fuel Dragster, Top Fuel Funny Car, Pro Stock, and Pro Motorcycle. Those are ordered by speed with Dragsters being the fastest at over 300 mph. Funny Car reaches speeds over 300 mph on occasion too. There are other classes of very serious drivers and teams besides those four, but the aforementioned are the main draw at a NHRA event. No offense to either Top Fuel class but I actually like Pro Stock best. The cars are fast but not so fast that the race is over in 4 seconds. Motorcycle drag racers on the other hand are just nucking futs. Why you would want to go 200 miles an hour on a motorcycle is beyond me. During the more boring parts we got to hang out in the LRS courtesy tent. Damn nice. Nothing beats free beverages and snacks.

We got to catch a Cardinals game on a lovely Sunday afternoon in June. The tickets were certainly decent but it did mark the first time since the new stadium opened that my seat was in the upper deck. I've been to probably 25 or 30 games since the new stadium opened and every time I've scored tickets in either the lower deck or in one of the party rooms. I even got tickets to Game 3 of the World Series in club seats. Lucky I guess. This game turned out to be the debut of Mark DeRosa, although we didn't know that until roughly 24 hours beforehand. He got a rousing ovation from the crowd, but didn't get a hit. He did make a very nice running catch in front of us. And of course Cardinal fans cheered the catch with great enthusiasm. The Cardinals lost to the lowly Twins that day but it was a fantastic day to be at a game. Here's the recap where DeRosa's catch is available on video. Afterward we went to Crown Candy Kitchen and drank malts.

We don't just go to sporting events. We've seen a couple of movies. Night at the Museum 2 was pretty decent. It was at least as good as the first one even if the museum comes alive thing had already been played out. We also checked out Monsters vs. Aliens. Before the movie I bet him Aliens would win and he took the bet. I didn't know he already knew that the Monsters win. Spoiler alert. Oh wait. That's too late isn't it? As winner of the bet he chose to eat lots of Sonic food despite the fact we gorged ourselves on buttered popcorn and Sqwigglies earlier.

I took him to our company picnic at Knight's Action Park. We swam around the lazy river and shivered like popsicles when we got out. It was a chilly 68 degrees, cloudy, and very windy that day. Instead of getting all pruney from playing in the water, we rode the paddle boats, played video games, and wore our hands sore from swinging in the batting cages. Robert swings a pretty good bat. It was disappointing that we didn't get to ride the cool slides but fun was had nonetheless.

Oh, wait. There was more sporting events. Kind of. We decided, or should I say I decided, to go to All Star Fan Fest. My thinking was that the All Star Game only comes to town once every 30 plus years and this may be our only opportunity at seeing it. After seeing it, I probably could have skipped it. It was somewhat interesting but Robert was totally not into it. We got there early and the place wasn't too crowded. A couple hours later the place started filling up. (I'm guessing at time here because when you wander inside a building as large as the convention center it is tough to gauge time) We learned, as we were leaving, that the Futures game being played that afternoon was delayed because of heavy rain. Most of those people opted to come indoors for the Fan Fest rather than wait around paying 8 bucks for beer in the rain. Because of that, indoors was mobbed. As luck would have it, we happened to run into an old coworker who had brought her son Ben. Ben and I talked Robert into doing some of the activities even though he wasn't crazy about any of it. Plus, by this time he was full of funnel cake and probably feeling a little ill. Fried dough will do that to you. The lines were crazy long but we stuck it out. The line to run the bases took about a half hour to get through, and once we got through it we were allowed to run three people at once. I lost to Ben by .02 seconds. Robert lost by .02 seconds to me. I think it was one of the better trios that ran all day as we all posted respectable times in the low 4's, complete with photo finish. We weren't in the top 10 for sure but we didn't embarrass ourselves either. The line for the batting cages took almost an hour and a half however. For our miserable wait I got to whiff at five pitches from a video Randy Johnson. Robert whiffed on all five tosses from video Mark Buerhle. At least the teenager didn't show us up. He whiffed five times too. I won't say who did manage a hit. You can figure it out for yourself, and yes I am embarrassed. It turned out to be an OK day, but I'm not sure I'd do it again. I wouldn't recommend it to anyone whose kid isn't really into baseball. I'm sure when it comes close to me again they will have something cool like virtual reality baseball and I'll talk myself into going anyway.

And then last week we went to the State Fair. Forty-three years old and I had never been to a State Fair. Living in Southeast Missouri makes you a solid 7 hour drive to Sedalia, home of the Missouri State Fair. Better pack a lunch if you want your state fair fix, and you can guess that it never happened in my family. I could barely talk my parents into the 1 hour drive to Memphis for the Mid-South Fair, which by the way seemed much larger than the Illinois State Fair. But, now that I live somewhere with handy access to (questionable meat product) covered in equally questionable semi permeable liquid substance) on a stick, I felt compelled to go. I should caveat that going to the State Fair with Robert and his sister was technically not the first time I attended a State Fair. That dubious distinction technically happened a week before when I met my friend Nancy there. We mostly just walked around and drank beer in the beer tents. With Robert, and his sister Keyani, no beer was consumed. Instead, we rode rides in a circle and checked out the butter cow, which was carved right next to the butter Abe Lincoln. If you postioned yourself right you could make it look like Abe had his mouth on the cows udder. That's my brain in action folks. My only regret is that I didn't have any crackers. And as with anything with the name Fair at the end of it, a good time was had by all, as witnessed by a ride on The Scrambler.