Friday, April 01, 2016

Top Songs About Fools, Foolishness and Tomfoolery

It's April 1, April Fools day, otherwise known as "bring the assholes out" day.  Good innocent people will be pranked, or bombarded with bad wit and badder jokes all day long. Tears will be shed, coffee will be spit and punches will be thrown. There will be a few arrests, mostly for public nudity or boisterous college like behavior. It's not fun and its not funny, unless you have the peerless wit to pull off your silliness.

I like to stick to music related humor like raving about Kanye's new oft delayed album or championing everything Nicki Minaj has done for empowering women. Here on this blog I'm just gonna list my favorite songs with the word " FOOL" or " FOOLS" or "FOOLISH" or "FOOLED" or "FOOLING" in the title.

Here Goes.... Video attached for the ones I think you should hear.  Be nice out there, jokers.

1) Fools- Van Halen

2) Won't Get Fooled Again- The Who
3) Fooling Yourself- Styx (first appearance of STYX ever on C.O.F.)

4) Fool For the City- Foghat

5) Foolin' -Def Leppard
6) Fooled Around and Fell in Love- Elvin Bishop(but Mickey Thomas sings)

7) Fool For Your Stockings- ZZ Top

8) What a Fool Believes-The Doobie Brothers (everybody do their Michael McDonald impression now)
9) Fool To Cry-Rolling Stones
10) Fool On The Hill- The Beatles
11) Fool in the Rain-Led Zeppelin

12) Fool's Game- Michael Bolton- C'mon 80s!!!

13) Dancin' Fool- Frank Zappa  (the 70s + cocaine + colorful lighted dance floors)
14) Fool For Your Loving- Whitesnake (hair continued)
15) Chain of Fools- Aretha Franklin

16) Everybody Plays the Fool- The Main Ingredient  (watch just for the white shoes and flowered ties)

17) Nobody's Fool- Cinderella (the hairiest)
18) Ship of Fools- The Doors
19) Ship of Fools -The Grateful Dead

20) Fool's Gold- Thin Lizzy  (Irish Fools, second best solo on this list)

21) Lovefool- The Cardigans (one of the most singable 90s one hit wonders)
22) Fools Rush In- Elvis Presley

23) Foolish Heart- Steve Perry  (music to get a wisdom tooth pulled to)

24)The Fool- Camper Van Beethoven
25) Fools- Deep Purple
26) Only a Fool Would Say That- Steely Dan
27) Only A Fool- Black Crowes

28) The Fool, The Meddling Idiot- The Melvins (easily the most difficult song to get through on this list unless you're tunneling through concrete using only a plastic spoon)

29) You Were the Fool- Ween  (you never know with Ween)

30) Fools In Love- Joe Jackson

Thats it. I'm not listing songs by Ashanti, Jewel or Debbie Gibson.  That would be foolish.

Thursday, March 31, 2016

SXSW Day Three: Every Band Is A Girl

I pretty much stayed at Hotel Vegas(Hotel Hot Burrito, Mustache Central) the whole damn day and fuck you for telling me for two weeks now that I missed anything worthwhile anywhere else.

I saw Hinds from Spain. You pretty girls from the lets do reverb, everyone's doing reverb/you tube launched career of sorts did too many shows and blew your vocal wad long before your afternoon set complete with live language barriers between soundman and you. 2 chord mid tempo dour pop, yawny and scratchy(no relation to itchy, I'm talking vocal fry) Take your modeling income and pay someone to tune your guitars. The only band that had an autograph line that Id total teen town. As boredom glazed over I thought " Is Hinds a mispronounce/misspell mistake of a Spanish condiment?"  17 shows and they could have stopped at one if hype didn't force its hand.

I saw the marvelous Sunflower Bean from NYC. Trippy shredding dream rock like a faster D'arcy led Pumpkins, with the pixie dream girl Julia Cumming swaying and thumping on bad ass bass and vocals.

I saw Birdcloud. Dirty purdy bird duo of Nashvillettes all horned up and wet, and strumming and humming. Rub a dub dub on a 12 inch sub. Cowgirl soft porn, golden country greats with a harmonica inspired faux fellatio part for one of their trailer park meets I fucked a rodeo clown masterpieces. LUV. Spelled L-U-V.

I saw Mystery Lights from NYC. Sweater psyche in the raw, with a univox backbone and throttled on drums. Punk dust scattered over yelps and high kicks, and jaws dropped like flop sweat from the sky. One of the premiere sights of the day.A two beer worthy set in a mere 25 minutes.

I saw Guantanamo Baywatch from the PDX, full out tongue in cheeky rave up surf rock from the bridge city. Sloppy bass from a Blazer Jersey wearing trashette, but the songs didn't scatter the masses. Waves of people wading in.

I saw the miracle of Chicano Batman from LA. We were all cholos pogo-ing to solos from this incredible revitalized R&B meets low riding while crooning+ astrology signs plus palm trees +empenadas at the back door disco with a sunsplash of Santana and sultry burst of Yamaha organ runs from a transistor radio kinda-deal. Sexy Spaniards in powder blue tuxes fucked shit up with soul- riffic sambafied sounds.  The BAND of the DAY. This is why I come every year. I did not expect to dance. I did not know when I stopped.

I saw Thee Oh Sees pile up their ratty amps like pyramids and put the two drum kits in the middle of it all and I saw the crowd cinch up their breaths and clutch their beers like they were babysitting them and I saw the clear sg clone of a guitar slung solar plexus high on band leader John Dwers person and I saw the first squelching chord scream down and split the crowd apart like demagnetized ball bearings on a wave of phase and I saw people lifting diving crucifying themselves on the nails of outstretched arms from the crowd below their bodies. I saw the magic psychedelic mighty light leave the traveling garage and beautify the open space with amperage, spark and dance. I saw transformation, I saw sweat land in dust, I saw god with a lower case g in that courtyard for awhile. I saw no escape from a sore neck from the rollicking edge of the pit.

I saw Hundred Visions again, I saw La Luz, I saw The Sloths, I saw several other bands that were not breaking the bathroom line worthy and I felt old and tired and I felt like it was worth it one hundred times over.

I saw Sunday the next day, ate three chili dogs as the onslaught of girl bands drowning in reverb's swiss cheesy blanket surrounded me inside and out at Uncle Doug's Chili Dog Fest #7 at Empire Control Room and Side Bar.  I saw the trip home in front of a bad nights sleep and a burrito night cap. its taken a few weeks to get up to snuff and bullish enough to write about it.  Enjoy the bands in Bold. They are in my future and not just a post script or a bullet point on this silly blog.  SKB

Saturday, March 19, 2016

SXSW Day Two: Reverbolution

Ive lost my last Prednisone pill, the grackles are chatty right outside my window and rain looks threatening, but fuck it. Time to rock. But first , 2 mashed potatoes egg and cheese breakfast burritos to properly gum up the system. Rather than give you a play by play, I'm giving highlights with scatterbrained similes . Enough prattling on. 
First stop was the Antiquiet Showcase where I caught the Pom Poms set..Duane Eddy guitars washing over a dead weatherish type grind and a nice smoky voice coming out of a Gloria Estefan doppelgänger. Dark blues, leathered and pompadoured, never seen tighter jeans on a human, a good start to the day.
I headed over to the Hotel Vegas Annex while passing by a bloated bum splayed out on the sidewalk mouth agape but breathing and covered in various promotional cards dropped by desperate rappers in a lame attempt at humor. For a minute I questioned the risky selfish trip called humanity and kept going. Got there in time to see Pink Mexico, an oily coiffed trio of ruffians..lively high vocals, fuzz bubbles rising and popping above the robotic Regular John thud of drums. Reverb reared its head in comets of echoing chemtrails above the crowd, sipping cheap sponsored tequila while grafted to their phones(humanity again).
Then Next door to Hotel Vegas another loose locked trio called Heaters, or basically a modern day Ty Segall cover band. Reverb on reverb , tippy toes singer easing up to the mic while the cheeks flap from the wind tunnel forming around us. Every word was buried meters below the surface, canyon top yelping, completely unintelligible.
Luckily I saw on my digital schedule that Hundred Visions were coming up. I was up front , ears leaking burst fluid caused by the riffkrieg. Total gangbusters of crushing volume. This is racing an avalanche to your lunch date music. Monolith moving. Sending Thor home from a fight with Mjolnr between his legs. Music God uses to pass a stone to. Bamtastic melodic and throbbing. band of the day. Seek them out. They've got stuff on band camp and it hurts so good.

Headed back across the tracks to catch a fairly hyped band called Night Beats who came all the way to Texas and didn't tune up. The reverb swallowed everything in sight and sucked it into a big black hole of I don't care. So glad you spent all that time on lyrics that sound like Charlie Browns mom on three klonopin. A damn shame. Little Peter drowned in a well of you blew your one shot.

Got wind of an off the beaten path yard party starring those current Detroit demigods Protomartyr, post punk leaning foursome complete with a frumpy frontman with a marble mouth delivery and a stance and demeanor from the balled up shirts on the floor of Oscar Madison's closet. The kids died for it. I enjoyed the scenery of the rhythm of swaying carabiners, overall jorts, dirty babies running in the lumberyard/grass and lost dogs .

My earache was something no belly full of Lone Star could dissipate. Took a long break and went to The Grand Billiard Hall for the Rock Candy showcase. Saw Patsy's Rats..a fast pace Runaways aping rock band that held my attention until they motored through a cover of one of the worst songs in history..New York Groove by the genius Ace Frehley. I freely moved towards the exit, back to the sleeping porch and the cackling grackles to come.


Friday, March 18, 2016

SXSW Day One: High Waisted Jorts

High waisted jorts are in and apparently easy to perform drumming duties while wearing. I'm in Austin the morning after my first day at my almost annual trip to SXSW. I feel old and just missed skipping the whole damn thing after a three week toe to toe with inner viral catastrophe. Got me some prednisone good enough to help bench press a baby rhino and some Vicodin for straight kicks and/or ear pain.
So I'm good to go wander among the road cases the show cases and the closet cases. My bud and gracious host Alex suggest we head down to El Sapo for an hors d eurve of musicafter securing my wares on the sleeping porch so we took the short drive and happened upon an impressive trio of ladies called Moving Panoramas. A great mix of dream pop with clairol hair and hot pants. Think Mazzy Star under a glissando blanket of punch drunk reverb. And the drummer flailed gracefully around clad in high waisted jorts. We stayed for the obligatory 4 songs and returned to home base.

After meeting up with our lovely vacationing friends Eric and Alison, the boys decided to head to a place called Pendejo Park for a hidden showcase of sorts that was neither a park or very hidden. Upon arrival we were pleasantly overwhelmed with a heady mix of B.O and vegan hot dogs on the grill. Maybe they smell the same I don't know....but the "park" was a front porch extended out with a makeshift stage made of pallets and bricks. And the music was provided by a fierce but friendly trio of heathens called Bummers Eve. What a rush of huffed distortion and failed mission space scuzz these guys brought. The hipper than thous almost left their beach towels patchwork on the gravel to dance. I had a hotdog or two, passed on the moonshine, petted a few strays and we left for a place called the Carousel Lounge.

The Carousel Lounge is a circus themed bar with a low big top pitched ceiling a red puffy Naugahyde bar cover and clown murals just freaky enough to  get you to remember the wares of John Wayne Gacy.  The band we saw was yet another trio Stargazer Lillies who's guitarist insisted on bludgeoning all 12 of us with 2 100 watt Marshall Heads worth of reverb in a bar made of cinder blocks. The deer in the headlights lady singer with the gossamer voice wasted her words under this muddy wave of whatever and could not compete with joe guitars layer. Stop the trapeze I wanna cut the nets out from under me and swan dive the concrete. For some inexplicable reason they were selling tote bags which I wanted purchase just to choke myself out with.

I was left alone for a while and what's a guy to do but buy a fabulously gaudy western shirt and post a suave pic of me wearing it on the FB only to be burned at the fashion stake. That's why I stick to monotones.....

We regrouped at the fabulous Spiderhouse compound...hard to call it a bar ..itsa massive malaise of everything complete with a taco trailer and a ballroom where I saw my favorite band of the day, Pujol from Nashville TN. Super hyper power pop foursome with tight harmonies, steady pulsing
drums and busy bass....with screamy warm fender solos on top..think Big Star and Television in a practice space next to immense meth vats. Their new album is called Kisses and the future looks like a fresh pile of tight flannels and skinny jeans for these four men. Other bands we caught at Spiderhouse included the wacky Lemons.... a straight up mix of the Fugs and the Archies, and Apache with a squirrelly shirtless Apache? Frontman doing his best Ramones/Dolls impression. Loads of messy Thunders licks and the crowd's attention.

The night ended up,the road on Guadalupe at the legendary Hole in the Wall where for some strange reason on ST Patrick's day....they were serving free  Sapporo. We caught Very Fresh(Brooklyn) set. This trio(again) harkened to a feminine tinged Velvets with more melodramatic quips like Lou Reed on the tail end of his period.

So far, one day in to SXSW, lots of estrogender specification, lots of rock because, #rocklivesmatter, tight harmonies,,I still like my new shirt, my wristbands number three as of now, hook em horns, I got some fill of good music in only half a day...good music,  some sophomoric, some laborious, but mostly glorious.
I'm hoping for double the tacos, double the bands, double the groundswell of reporting today on day two.

Wednesday, December 16, 2015

My Favorite Albums of 2015

What do we have, two weeks left in the year and everybody and their brother(because most "journalists" are under 35, and thus still relevant) have put that Kendrick Lamar album on a fuckload of year end best album lists...and the rest of us, who actually realize that we have no lyrical connection whatsoever to Kendrick, we don't give a shit about Compton(cue the struggle) and we don't really want to pass the time thinking about what the fuck "To Pimp a Butterfly" means. I'm sure its deep, but connection to most of us, whatsoever. "Us" being rock fans. 

Lets be honest, hip hop is for younger than me people who like to dance, bounce their heads up and down in an unchallenging mid tempo rhythm, smoke, and buy very expensive sneakers that they put on display. Among a long list of reasons that would(in this quick edit, reactionary world) brand me a racist, I never liked it because the poetry relied much more on style, not substance. I'll give you your debut album to get all of that struggle out, but you gotta move on after that, cmon. No real, well read human being wants to hear about all of the beautiful people, places and things you acquired after your accountant told you you could go balls out and buy stuff that the small brained and disenfranchised covet.

But in terms of music, a genre, it has legs, it has influence, a heritage apparently important to culture and lots and lots of grown humans all over the world, love it, champion it and put a shitload of it on their best of lists.

But fuck it, not me. I'm almost 50, and I'm cool with being an avid proponent of hip hop. I get the fact that millions of all y'all connect with it. I never did, and I never does nothing for me but make me feel cheated, bored. Maybe its different for musicians whose chosen genres, rely on a shitload of woodshedding alone in basements and bedrooms...lots and lots of trial and error with no help from a producer, another "featured" artist, or somebody actually "selling" beats like a digital carnival barker, as a cheap shortcut infused to the foundation to your hustle and flow.

That said and with complete control of this non sequitur...Here are my favorite albums of 2015.

1) Wand-Golem (blew my mind live 2x in 2015, thats high praise..almost religious)
2) Fuzz-Fuzz II (Ty remains teflon)
3) Clutch-Psychic Warfare( a smidge of a step down from Earth Rocker, but Neil is still a lyrical genius)
4) Built to Spill- Untethered Moon-
5) Ava Luna -Infinite House (the best band from SXSW 2015)
6) Wilco-Star Wars
7) Le Butcherettes- A Raw Youth (aint no frontwoman alive right now better than Teri Gender Bender)
8) High on Fire-Luminiferous
9) Sun Kil Moon-Universal Themes....But Benji from 2014 changed my life
10) Jason Isbell-Something More than Free(quite simply one of the best songwriters on the planet right now.)

Thats all I got. Send hate mail to me...