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Hey friends, how are you. Couple of things:
RIP The Washington Post, kinda how like Time magazine turned into a pamphlet but way worse. One collateral victim here was their 16-year veteran music editor Chris Richards, who gracefully moved from playing in Q and Not U to the desk. I don’t always agree with Chris (too much screamo, though it’s understandable from a heritage standpoint, I’m the same way with early ‘90s noise rock) but I do have a ton of respect for him, and his commitment to regionalism and the passion he feels for music are not to be denied. Chris just started a Substack in the wake of all this called THE FUTURE IS OURS TO MAKE and I think you should subscribe. Once again, good work is coming from all angles and an independent point of view rising above the bullshit does require you to have some of your skin in the game, so that those of us out here can keep our hides. Give him a look, pay the man and feel what he feels.
I would be extremely remiss if I didn’t give once more the props due to Commie Francis’ incredible compilations to support Gaza Soup Kitchen, which have raised over $50K to help keep Palestinians fed during a genocide. Pretty much any band with a conscience in punk/HC/postpunk/etc. has contributed, and this incredible Peel Sessions-esque graphic shows the scope of that. Bandcamp Fridays are a great way to boost that signal and get these charities paid, so if you haven’t yet, please check these out.
Those of you asking about the second newsletter — it’s coming, just need to do some setups and subscription configuration. I bought a stack of records yesterday to write about on there and I’m pretty excited at what I’m planning. More to come on that.
Since there were only three reviews last Friday, here’s seven to balance it out.
Please keep em coming to PO Box 25717 Chicago IL 60625 USA // [email protected] — going to feature a bunch of vinyl submissions from the past few months on Tuesday’s edition. I have the time to get to them all.
KARL HUNGUS was expert, he’d click on this too. “He fixes the cable?”
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Here’s a couple for ya, the rest are beyond the Garfield wall.
ER JURKEN To Be Continued LP (Country Thyme)
Mr. Jurken is back with another set of rootsy Western pop with absolutely no pretense. His high-register voice and studious lyrics bring an elevation to the form that puts it out of reach of the most obvious comparisons, and the music (largely played by Chicago instrumentalists Junegrass, showing keen aptitude when given an assignment, with additional horn charts and orchestration) achieves a formal charm that’s hard to ignore. Getting a little fed up with calling music “literate” and apologize for any past violations; the notion of literacy has a lot of meanings, and certainly I wouldn’t go around calling most music “illiterate” because that has an even bigger charge. What I’m trying to get at is that those kinds of people who enjoy(ed) The Decemberists, because it made them feel smarter and more clever than they might all be, probably got there because they were being told a story (albeit as trite of one as any grad student of the arts, or pre-college mop, or “gifted class” special lords and ladies would be mistaken for the real thing) that subbed against their own creative-cum-neolib impulses. Most people do not make things of note. You get it. To Be Continued, however, is clocked on actual real thing hours, with story-songs that feel lived as they do imagined, and should have as giant a following, especially by people who push more than corn. I got snagged on “Lady of Renown” and see no reason why you wouldn’t either.
BLOOD COOKIE Bless This Mess CS (Tern and Crow)
Minneapolis checkin’ in – keep strong, it’s working. Pretty great trio work here, doing speedy, anxious guitar pop leaning heavily on the reverb and chorus pedals for a vector of chaos that music like this can only benefit from. Some real nice chaos going on in the solo of “The Human World,” some SNL/Jane Wickline style lyrics on “Stick in the Mud” which flaunts its biggest weakness, the speak-sing vocals (shades of a worse time in music, a la that one duo on Mountain Dew Records) that stand in easy relief from the baling wire guitars slashing beneath. Whatever. This is really good and reminds me of a lost-in-one’s-head take on Joanna Gruesome style bearsuit pop crust and should be taking whatever reins the indie pop circuit might still have and giving them a good yank, throwing a bottle of piss into a frozen government-funded car driven by illiterate boneheads (see? there’s a good use of that pejorative), and letting the work do the rest.
Subscribe to read the rest. Many of you have, many more should.
