It does not get much more rock-n-roll than this. Here’s Jeff Tweedy just being a lead singer guy while Tommy Stinson from the temporarily reformed Replacements playing “Color Me Impressed” on guitar. This is at some festival in Mass we think. Looks fun. This is the rocking wilco we like.
I don’t know shit about this band called CRYMNL HYGNE but they have enough variety in their songs to satisfy most pavement fans, brit punk and the Swell Maps with one firm kick to the balls. I don’t know how I do it but somehow this stuff finds me this way. Which is really is the soul purpose of this blog to make me turn on my bar stool. There have been dry spells at times then suddenly a few random hits and I’m in cheap beer heaven. Mangod I hope there is such a thing? I would post every song of their’s if I could but you’ll just have to go listen for yourself on their bandcamp page like I did and drop them some dough. It’s raw at times like sorry ma forgot to take out the trash the suddenly they show-off with a guitar melody or two. Yeah this full length is that fun and raw. This is everything a college drop-out rock experience should sound like. Anyway, thank these fine folks over at www.smallsmilerecords.com collective who can spells better than us for sure.
I’m wondering when this Replacements Documentary will be On Demand so I can just watch it already. Gorman Bechard interviews Jack Rabid and Jesse Malin . My only claim to fame is I saw the Mats last show at Ritz. Anyway, the bar for a lot of documentaires is getting lower. This one is pretty raw looking judging from couple trailers but seems like they did their homework. I don’t think Paul Westerberg is interviewed. Is he? That would make it really good. There sure have been a shit load of screenings. What people really want is access. What’s the point then right?
Bowery Electric: CBGB's Exile X-Mas Jahn Xavier with Lenny Kaye, and Tish & Snooky
Here’s a very special Christmas Playlist treat straight from DJ Tone. Once upon a time there was a little club called CBGB’s OMFUG which was owned and operated by Hilly Kristal. He developed a home where a legacy of bands that defined NYC’s underground music from The Ramones, Blondie to the The Patti Smith Group could perform. Every month these wayard punks that defined an era of music get together once a month. Punks in Exile from that little club with the amazing sound system. I was lucky to play the stage myself at least a dozen times and be a witness to later era bands who graced the stage from Jesus Lizard, Sonic Youth and Bongwater to name a few. The was a iconic cultural destination. I swear everytime I walked by the place there were always tourists taking photos in front. I’d say they enjoyed quite the walk-in crowd. Anyway, here’s a playlist from our own DJ Tone who made this holiday mix called “Carols Buddies Goodfortune Bounty and Much Joy to celebrate the Holiday Season in EXILE at Bowery Electric this past week. We’re 99% certain that all the bands on this playlist played CB’s or at least in Shane Macgowan’s case he at least had a drink there.
ALBUM REVIEW: Somewhere in-between a white trash hero and flippant grandpa boy is what indie folkster John McCauley has been repainting. Deer Tick is the story of American Gothic recovering from a binge. If the Deervana stunt is any evidence. He’s literally wearing and proud of his choice of flannel rock. I’ve always been a fan of the music coming out of Providence RI, it’s always a little dark and pleasantly seedy. I think they have more Go Go Bars per square mile in their city limits juxtaposed against the art school RISD. Of course right? So is the album title Divine Providence ironic? Facial hair management may not have something to do with this combo but this band has soul and in the end it’s a simple formula. This music is the kind of thing that happens in Edge City’s like Providence, RI.
“We’re fucking men but we act like kids, We’ll Face the music next time we roll-in” – The Bump
The rock meter on this record falls somewhere in the neighborhood of The Hold Steady side of a true american bar bands and les affaire back porch of Uncle Tupelo. No flash. No real Posers. No bullshit. The exit sign here always flickers and welcomes you in. These tunes squeak authentically which at times means it’s sloppy and purposely under produced giving it that twinkle of drunken hopeless charm. Leading-off with “The Bump” it reminds me of some juke joint where PBR is the top shelf and there are no labels on the vodka you recognize but there are plenty of badly cut trucker rails being shared in the bathroom. I’ve been to this bar akin to something like The Plumb St pub in New Brunswick NJ that closes at 4am and opens at 6am for the knight workers. I don’t really want to go back but I’m glad these guys are telling me about it again. Somebody needs to experience the night ending with the sun coming up when everything looks blurry but I don’t need my eyes to hear that. The music’s all right here.
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