Ritual Howls "their body"

Top ten albums of 2017. #1 Ritual Howls "their body" This is the band that made me realise that i am tho goth. I love #ritualhowls . I have been playing this band non-stop since discovering them. I make myself play other albums by other bands but really I'm just thinking about Ritual Howls while i do it (don't tell my dsbm albums ok? They are already on the edge.) The band does a synthy/organic thing that makes me think of a murder-obsessed depeche mode with spaghetti western guitars. To be fair this isn't even my favorite album by them (that honor goes to the flawless "into the water") but even though this isnt my favorite album it got loads of play. That's how much i love this band. I play this while I'm in the shower, i play this while I'm sorting dishes, i play this in my car... my wife can vouch. I play this so much i think my two year old likes them too (he's got a good Draco Malfoy look going for him so it may suit him). This detroit trio look like they are pretty prolific so here's to hoping the new year brings another release!

Spotlights "seismic"

Top ten albums of 2017. #2 Spotlights "seismic" The album title says it about as good as i could. Spotlights newest release is earth shaking. It's heavy and beautiful. The band takes the formula that the band Hum started in the '90s and perfected the melancholic and beautiful sound. It's akin to modern heavy shoegaze bands like Jesu and the latter-era Lantlos. If you like those records you'll love this. I was in some bands in the early 'aughts that in my head were heading towards this sound. This is one of those albums i wished i had written. It marries my love of heavy music and sad melodic indie rock perfectly. As some novel trivia: the band is a married couple with hired on drummers. I dont know how they keep it together but here's to hoping that they do for a while longer. Hop8ng to catch them live in 2018.

Drab Majesty "the demonstration "

Top ten albums of 2017. #3 Drab Majesty "the demonstration " Earlier this year i played a goth/dark wave/indie playlist on spotify at work. A couple of the artists really resonated with me and i wrote their names down to explore later. #drabmajesty struck me as really well put together and organic sounding for an electronic outfit. There is a definite synthwave feel to this album and it's goth in the same way Depeche Mode is goth. It's dark and romantic. You know, like me. I listen to this a bunch.

Cepheide "saudade"

Top ten albums of 2017. #4 Cephiede "saudade" There is something in France that makes their black metal the highest quality. I dont know if it's the cuisine, the wine or the general disdain for all things non-french but every time i hear the tag "french black metal" my ears perk up. I dont think #cepheide break alot of ground on this new release. It doesn't necessarily reinvent anything in the black metal canon but the band has a je ne sais quoi . The production is great, the songs have those hidden black metal hooks that the initiated can find easily and the vocals shriek in torment. Their last release made my list last year and this one got a lot of play after it's release in october (a perfect month for metal releases). Most of the time i listen to this stuff is on headphones. My wife and kids dont really have an affinity for things this grim. I think that the headphone play really helps this album. I believe it benefits from undivided attention. I dont know if this album will convert your musical taste to kvlt but if you have an ear for it already you will find alot to absorb here.

Rope Sect "personae ingratae"

Top ten albums of 2017. #5 Rope Sect "personae ingratae" I've been having a goth year. Over the last few months ive begun to realise that I've actually always kind of been into goth stuff. I didn't want to be. Goth to me is sort of like being a "deadhead". If you take time to listen the music isnt terrible it's just that all the cultural stuff that it drags behind it makes you repulsed by the social tag. The Grateful Dead's "american beauty " album is actually pretty damn good (just ask Wilco) but hell... crunchy hacky-sack douchbags twirling sticks in faux naturalism makes me want to kick puppys. Goth kids create a similar revulsion in me. But fuck if i dont love the music. Rope Sect are technically more "post punk" sounding (keeping tabs on genre tags is my thing) but the macabre vibe they give off definitely feels goth. This stuff is dramatic, dark and sinister (all prerequisites to make this list apparently) and avoids any of the electronic tendencies of the genre. It creates a sweaty bleeding nihilistic version of the sound as opposed to the vampire dance club version of the goth canon (which i also like).

King Woman "created in the image of suffering"

Top ten albums of 2017. #6 King Woman "created in the image of suffering" This album was in a pretty consistent play cycle after i caught the band live. It's doomy psychedelic music with ethereal female vocals. It's a heavy ass record and while it doesn't break any new ground it is still hook heavy tripped out doom that gets the head bobbing. It really is Kristina's vocal style that elevates the music. It's aching, haunting and beautiful and dances among the murky grooves and creates a dynamic that begs repeat listens. They are formidable live too so catch them if you can.

Violet Cold "anomie"

Top ten albums of 2017. #7 Violet Cold "anomie" My bandcamp account is filled with blackgaze music. Blackgaze is a sub genre of black metal that incorporates elements of shoegaze. So yeah, it's right up my alley. Its a hot genre right now with folks and there is a glut of releases (all of which i seem to track down). Violet Cold use some cool unique instrumentation and the guitars do this staccato soaring melody thing that makes the whole thing sound grimly uplifting. It definitely stands out and i think i converted a coworker to the ethereal blackened din so now i get to listen to this at work too. I like listening to the evolution of black metal that is happening right now and i think this album pushes the stuff a little further out from the blackened center.

Slow "V Oceans"

Top ten albums of 2017. #8 Slow "V oceans" I suppose it is a forgone conclusion that my year's end list will contain at least one doom metal album. I have a voracious appetite for this stuff. There were a few releases by bands that were pretty big let downs in this genre. I was getting pretty bummed about the new crop of discs from the genre's main players. This album was recommended by my friend who lives in Switzerland. We share an academic love for metal and he has a good grasp of what i like in my molten metal stew. Slow are on the funeral end of the doom spectrum which means it's an apt moniker. Great production values and enough built tension to keep the album interesting. It might be that I've saturated myself with this stuff and that's why I'm so hard to slowly please but i returned to this album a bunch at night listening on headphones in the dark in bed as my family droned in a chorus of raspy snores (which absurdly sounds like an album i would check out). #slow

Immolation "atonement"

Top ten albums of 2017 #9 Immolation "atonement" I will forever have a soft spot for death metal. Not hardcore posing as death metal or thrashy grind metal pretending to be death metal. I love thick and juicy death metal. Immolation have been doing this shit since 1991 with nary a misstep. Their recipe for music has stayed true, it has just been built into a monstrously awesome version of what they started twenty six years ago. The vocals sound like tectonic plates grinding against each other and atonal technical guitar sweeps drip off of pummeling rhythms. Hearing this album plasters a chinful grimace on my mug and rejuvenates my adolescent love of everything this genre has to offer. You can find pretty awesome death metal albums being released all the time but there is something to be said about the perspective this band's discography offers. This album sounded really good to me this year, like catching up with a death obsessed old friend. #immolation

Dirty Projectors "s/t"

Top Ten albums of 2017. #10  Dirty Projectors "s/t" This skitchy weird album is fascinating. It's a breakup studio album that sounds like the weirdest contempory r&b album ever made. It shares alot of the production values of contemporary pop albums but with none one of the mind numbing stupid lyrical hooks. In fact this record isn't easy to listen to, it's strange and engaging. I keep going back to it and mining it's textural depths. It feels futuristic, like a record that someone would be listening to in a dingy apartment pod in "Blade Runner". This kind of music bends my mind because I wouldn't know where to begin to create anything like it. I keep thinking if Skinny Puppy made an r&b pop record it would sound like this. That's how weird it is. I dont even remember why i bought it at the now closed Record Theatre, but it has haunted me since i purchased it. I have alot of music and not a ton of time to really absorb and examine records but I've made time for this one over this past year.

AC/DC "for those about to rock we salute you"

With the passing of Malcolm Young i am reminded of this record and seeing #acdc live in 1986 on the "who made who" tour. My buddy and i got dropped off near the Aud and skulked around the parking lots surrounding the arena. We weaved through the dark cars and snaked through clouds of weed and the sound of breaking beer bottles. We were open to whatever forbidden adventures awaiting us. We hoped by making our long hair and leather jackets visible we would be adopted by a throng of hesher partiers and immerse ourselves in hedonistic decadence. We circled and circled the venue, each pass feeling more and more left out. We started feeling too young and desperate (and stupid for not smuggling some sort of small bottle of peach schnapps with us) Downtrodden we gave up and hoped to meet up with some generous bearers of booze or whatever inside. We made our way to our seats, watched a girl's hair burst into flames lighting a smoke and sat in the putrid cloud of burnt hair bummed to be sober. AC/DC took the stage and played hit after hit and we actually got roused and forgot our underage blues. I've always had a soft spot for this blue collar hard rock. This album has always been my fav (to fly in the face on Bon Scott purists). We trudged out of the concert and began the impossible search for our ride. When we miraculously tracked down my friend's mom she told us she had asked a police officer if he had seen her son and friend. The overwhelmed officer sighed and asked what we looked like. She responded "long hair and leather jackets" he laughed at her and walked away from her car.

Coffinworm "when all became none"

My brother and i rode motorcycles from Buffalo to Indianapolis for a doom metal festival. The trip there was a great ride. We meandered our way west through NY, PA, OH and finally arriving in Indiana. We rode through lush state forests, followed winding rivers and even found a White Castle and finally tried their burgers (meh). Early in the trip we found Route 666. I took it as a good omen for our trip and proved to be just that. It took us like 16 hours to get to our destination and every minute of it was awesome. We stopped when we wanted, we passed every car we overtook and we felt like lords of the highway. I remember when we finally hit IN the road ironed our before us and stretched into a black dagger towards the sunset. I kept thinking about how fitting finding route 666 was on this trip (and promising myself id go back and steal one of those road signs). The festival had a ton of great bands, some i knew some were new. When #coffinworm took the stage they filled the small venue with an evil sludge i found delicious. I remember commenting to my brother that this was the band the road led us to. - 5 minutes ago

1 Likes

Van Halen "1984"

Joel Menter ( @bflojoel )

I was twelve years old when this record came out. I loved the videos in MTV and got my uncle to buy me this on cassette. Two distinct memories accompany this cd. First: i was in 6th grade and we had a project in music class to create a "slideshow" music video. We had to do a series of drawings and swap them on an overhead projector during the playback. My friends and i chose "panama". I remember when we sat down to transcribe the lyrics we realised we had no fucking idea what Diamond Dave was saying or what the song meant. To this day i still don't. We drew a bunch of dudes playing guitars and didnt get a very good grade. Second: during a game of touch football on our street i scored a touchdown and did a wobbly kneed end zone dance. A junior high kid who was playing became frustrated and shoved me. When he turned his back i knocked him down and booked for my house. I remember thinking that when i got through my chain link gate i was safe but the kid hopped the fence and tackled me in my front yard. We wrestled for a few panicky seconds and somehow i ended up on top of his back with him face down on the lawn. A few inches from his head was a fresh pile of steamy beagle shit. I immediately shoved his face into it a few times. As i was doing this my mom started yelling out the kitchen window at us to stop. I rolled off of him and he was howling about the shit that was caked in his eye sockets and nostrils. I'll never forget that sight of a feces racooned dude. A few days later poop goggles prowled up the street on his bmx. I was standing with a few friends so he just glared a stare down as he rode past. Somehow while he was fixated on me his shoe got caught in his wheel and he flipped his bike and landed on his face. There is no way that kid has forgotten any of this. If i ever turn up murdered look for this guy

Buzzcocks "singles going steady"

I discovered punk rock in a reverse timeline. My transition into it was crossover thrash metal which ment the punk i was listening to in the late '80s was pretty aggressive and already evolving into hardcore punk. As i discovered more music and my tastes widened i began to dig deeper into all the records that played a part in the stiff that was coming out around me. I started college in 1990 and my musical palette was about as diverse as you could get. I loved the electonic/industrial stuff coming out of chicago, i loved the clever indie pop that canada was pumping out, i loved the blossoming death metal surge from florida and i really REALLY loved the punk coming out of San Francisco's east bay! Anything Lookout! Records released i tracked down. Splits and comps turned me onto other poppy punky stuff and i ate it all up. I dont remember who played the #buzzcocks for me for the first time. I do remember being blown away that they were from the late '70s and i was really puzzled as to why all the bands i was listening to didn't expound props to their songs (too close to home i suspect) when i went up to Home of the Hits and asked which one i should start with the slacker costumed counter guy handed me a used copy of this and almost beamed being able to put me on this musical path. I don't usually like singles compilations but the awesome title of this one kind of snuffs out any of my snobbery and it is a sharp, no-filler look at a great band. While I'm not one of those people that will tell you all the older influential acts are better than the people riding their sonic coat tails today, this cd will make that argument for me. Without this there is no Descendents, no Green Day and by extension no Brand New. Be that know-it-all and give this a spin so you can greet disdain by people with less time and interest on their hands.

0 Likes

0 Comments

Ritual Howls "into the water"

I cannot stop listening to this #ritualhowls disc. I've been really into the whole darkwave/goth thing lately. I've stopped short of wearing black eyeliner and fishnets, but that's just external. I've been coddling my inner goth with a lot of music in this vein. I discovered this band on a spotify playlist and immediately looked them up on the bandcamp app. This method of finding music has become my new standard. I used to voraciously consume 'zines and published music journals and then kept various lists of albums that intrigued me. That whole thing is antiquated and i sorely miss it. There are no music stores that carry new releases in my hometown of Buffalo anymore. There are some vinyl specialty shops, but I'll be damned if i start collecting a new format. I have a beloved used cd shop called Frizzbe's but that is a different kind of collecting. Finding other people's discarded treasures, it's rare to find new releases there when they are still new. So cd collecting has become streamlined and unromantic. Maybe that's why I'm into the dark romanticism of this music. It's sinister, cavernous, cold and has vampiric sexuality. Maybe it's that Halloween is around the corner and it's aesthetic is permeating everything in my neighborhood. Whatever it is, this cd is really hitting the spot lately.

Dio "sacred heart"

Dungeons & Dragons has been a pretty reoccurring thing in my life. While it's actually been years since I've played the tabletop pencil and dice version it seems that a lot of the people that i resonate with have a history with the game. For years my sons have leafed through my monster manuals as have i. I spent many mornings at my friend's house with graph paper, velvet mystical dice bags and number 2 pencils. My buddy was grounded a whole summer for some reason while we were in 7th grade so i used to sneak over to his house early after his parents went to work. Another guy would show up and the trio of us would slay orcs, fall into spike pits and sexually harass bar maidens. I remember riding our bmx bikes over an hour to a neighboring suburb to the only hobby store we knew that sold dice and modules (adventure story guides). We were "Stranger Things" before it was cool. It was really really uncool as a matter of fact. We listened to this #dio album alot because of me. It spoke to my obsession with swordfight fantasy. D&D, conan and beastmaster movies, "lord of the rings" and this cd paint a pretty accurate picture of my scrawny pimple-faced interests of the time. This is also on my short list of favorite album covers. One i have reproduced in ballpoint pen many times. Dio has remained a constant fixture in my music collection my whole life. The lungs of a dragon in the body of a mystical elf.

The Exploited "let's start a war..."

This is one of my all time favorite album covers.  It's a pretty simple one, it doesn't need to be finely examined for hidden nuances.  It's bold and eye grabbing and has impeccable hand done type font.  While i like #theexploited a lot (their EPs tend to be a more digestible helping) i really love their aesthetic. Giant colorful mohawks, studded leather with protest slogans scrawled on them and skulls all over the place.  The band are like motorhead's uglier younger brother.  Fast and gruff and a great deal more blunt force trauma than Lemmy and Co.  I painted this cover on my biker leather jacket when i was 17.  The jacket i bought after weeks of working at a pizzeria a couple years prior.  I actually miss the jacket alot.  The look would not work for me anymore.  It was fine when it was draped over my skeletal younger self but now i fear i would look like some well fed "sons of anarchy" extra.  The jacket was a badge before it was painted, afterwards it became a confrontational cape.  "Why do you want to start a war?" Was the snarky comment i heard.  I would try to explain the flippant irony of the title and when disregarded i would get confrontational in return. I was quick with that.  As a friend recently pointed out to me: back then teenage angst wasn't marketed through stores at the mall.  You worked hard at being an outsider and thrived on the conflict your wardrobe evoked.  It was a narrower world back then.  And while I miss the romanticism of fist fighting jocks and preppies every week i am also thankful that the wide world is more apparent and while being a punk rocker today means your clothing is more expensive and you arent much more popular with the atheletic community at least the motive is generally more understood by all.  Well it feels that way to me.  I keep wondering if today's political climate will provide punk with a generation of new disciples.  The cold war and teenage hormonal imbalances were a perfect storm for my friends and i to embrace Watty shouting these protest songs at us.

The Trans Megetti "fading left to completely on"

One of my favorite things to do when i travel is visit record stores. That activity is only rivaled by eating local and exotic foods.  I've got quite a few souvenirs from my travels by way of CDs.  I picked up this #transmegetti disc the first time my old indie rock band played North Hampton in Massachusetts. That same day we had eaten at a vegan/vegetarian restaurant called Grasshoppers (that type of restaurant was still a novelty 17 years ago)  we played at an art space called The Flywheel (a place we played at a few times over the years) with a band called The Warren Commission (who we became pretty tight with and had invited to back to Buffalo to olay a couple of times) the guitarist of that band ended up mastering our full length album.  I can remember all if these details but i cannot remember the name of the store where i purchased this disc. I remember it was near the main square of town.  I remember i overheard locals talking about sightings of J. Mascis from Dinosaur Jr. And people from Sonic Youth (all of whom apparently lived there).  This disc is chaotic indie rock with a post punk vibe.  I had read reviews of them in fanzines and their name had been scrawled into my sketchbooks so i recognized the moniker and had never seen the cd back home so i snatched it up as an adventure treasure.  Upon re listening to this it makes me smile.  It really encapsulates the kind of stuff i was buying at the turn of the century.  Everyone in the band bought stuff at the store and i remember this disc getting a non-reaction in the van on our way to Hartford Connecticut.   I got internally defensive and this disc kind of became a loved runt for me.  It has made it through many prunes of my collection because of that van ride and my soft spot for it.

Queen "flash gordon soundtrack"

I first saw the movie Flash Gordon around 1982 on cable t.v.  i had already become a young sci-fi fan through the first two Star Wars movies and television programs Battlestar Galactica and Buck Rodgers.  So this movie was definitely in my wheelhouse back then.  Even at that age i recognized that the songs in the movie were something i was drawn to, that  it was rock and synthesizer scores and not orchestral arrangements stuck out to me. "Flash! Aah-ah! He saved everyone of us!" Would get stuck in my head like a commercial jingle.  I don't listen to a lot of soundtracks.  In fact i believe i only own five of them and am intimately familiar with them (besides this one they are: Peter Gabriel's soundtrack to "the passion of christ" [a movie I've never seen] , "until the end of the world", "singles" and "grease"). I've re watched this movie a few times over the years and am always impressed by the lavish set designs and costumes.  Sure a chunk of the movie is corny and dumb but the sensual aspects are still intriguing even beyond my nostalgic affinity.  I really like #queen and this isn't even my favorite album of theirs but it is one that conjures up memories my parents tactile suede furniture in greens and golds, for some reason it makes me think of winter olympic games and my sister and i laying folding chairs down and pretending they were bobsleds. The cd is loaded with random memories from my childhood.  It takes on a second soundtrack, it becomes the soundtrack of fifth grade for me.  My oldest is in fifth grade and this parallel makes me wonder if any music is going to make him think of our family home when he is in his mid-forties.

Milf "ha ha bus"

I have curly hair. Not cool curly hair, i have shitty useless curly hair (ok HAD shitty useless curly hair). I've always hated my mop.  When i tried growing it out when i was a metal head teenager it grew wide not long, when i was heavy into punk rock when i was a little older i had a shitty curly mohawk. By the time i had reached my early twenties i had given up on it. I started shaving my head. I've had brief relapses when I've given my stupid hair another chance only to regret it and shave it again. It wasn't a popular hairstyle in the early nineties, in fact it was widely interpreted as a racist "skinhead" badge. And quite often i was accused of being one of those douche bags.
I loved the Buffalo indie band #milf. I had their seven inch singles and this their debut album of loud, catchy shoegaze rock was in heavy rotation on my stereo and i put their songs on plenty of mix tapes. They were playing a gig at the now defunct Asbury Alley and i was pretty amped to go. It was not a heavily attended show but i stood front and center when they performed so the music would overwhelm me. Their singer/guitarist walked off the stage during their set and stood in front of me shouting the lyics in my face. OI was totally confused, it really felt aggressive and i didnt understand why he had done this. I kind of just stood there shifting my weight from foot to foot waiting for a cue as to how i was supposed to respond. He continued shouting what i assume were lyrics at me and hitting me with spittle. Eventually he walked back on stage and the band abruptly finished their set.  It should be noted that the singer was a black guy. I felt distressed about what had just happened so i approached the drummer who was still packing his lit and asked what was up and he told me to "get lost". Well it had turned out someone had written some racist graffiti in the bathroom about the band and given my affinity for shorn follicles they had assumed i was the bigoted dickbag. It had kind of pissed me off that they had made that assumption and i wrote a scathing review of the event in a local 'zine. I just realised that was some white privilege shit on my part. Now I'm bummed. Stupid hair.

Agnostic Front "victim in pain"

One of the most taste defining releases of my young music obsessing life was a free cassette sampler i got from the record label Combat/Combat Core records.  The cassette's A-side was from the label's tjrash metal roster and introduced me to a ton of cool bands.  The B-side was hardcore and crossover bands which was an exciting new take on the metal i was listening to up to this point.  I believe i eventually purchased albums by every band on this tape (well done Combat...well done indeed). The first thing i bought that got me super excited was #agnosticfront "victim in pain". It sounded nothing lile the acrobatic thrash metal i had adored up to this point, it was raw and simple and dangerous. The band performed like they were threatening me.  It was a "join us or get stomped" creed and i wanted in.  My old hesher friends weren't into this stuff but the punk rock kids i started skateboarding with totally dug it.  Looking back i realise i was a kind of "crossover" kid.  I still loved my metal and the aesthic of nihilistic thrash but also loved the heart and soul of punk and early hardcore.  I had friends in both camps but those friends were mutually exclusive of each other.  I didn't hang with all of them at any given time. While i enjoyed some of the cloak and dagger of juggling groups if friends and it was like living a split personality were i got to shift gears and explore different aspects of myself i didnt fully appreciate it because i was a young and dumb teenager.  The band just played at a small club here in Buffalo. I didnt get to go, i had already attended three concerts over the previous two weeks and couldnt fit another tuesday show into my life.  While thinking about going i realised the band was still involved in my life as duplicity.  My seperate life of doom metal, punk and rock shows from my dad life.  I really hope i can someday fold these two aspects together though.  But really what kid wants to bring his dad to a show? Coolness suicide. I hope it reconciles though, it'd warm my heart to see these boys immersed in music. Paradoxically I'd love it to be music that wants them to tell me to fuck off.

Destruction "infernal overkill"

The summer before i entered high school i was all about heavy metal.  I had only been listening to it for a year or two but i was newly grown armpit hair deep into at this point.  My close circle of friends were all hessers too and every so often one of them would show up with a new metal album to show off.  This was before the internet and before metal got any serious media coverage so basically you would go to a record store (the Cavages record store at the McKinley Mall had a sick "metal" section back then) and roll the dice on some record that had a sick band logo and cover art.  I did just that on this #destruction record.  At the time i didn't know that "german thrash" was a thing unto itself.  I just knew the logo was cool and the record cover (a skull being blown apart by a mushroom cloud explosion) seemed like something i wanted to listen to.  Disposable income wasn't a thing for me then, in fact it would take me two weeks of allowance to buy one record (That's 2 lawns mowed, 14 days of dishes and garbage taken out twice). So these records were very valuable to me.  I wanted to love them after all the effort of obtaining them (begging a ride to the mall took almost as much effort as getting the money)  i loved this record right away. Mean and gritty thrash metal.  I was psyched to share it with my buddies. Not a single one of them gave a shit.  My sweat equity demanded i like this album and constantly try to defend it and sneak a tape of it into the boom box in the field where we drank warm stolen beers on a weathered garbage picked sofa. It would always get ejected before it got to the fifth song "bestial invasion". That song being the coup de grace of the whole album.  I mean how many fucking times did we have to listen to "ride the lightning "? I put that song on a playlist at the tattoo shop and it still roundly gets ignored.  It still sounds worth the effort to me. \m/

Lee Fields & the Expressions "special night"

I keep listening to soul music at home.  I hope i'm imprinting on my kids.  I feel like good soul music is a cornerstone for appreciating music in general.  Talented vocalists crooning over technically proficient and melodic music.  While i appreciate a lot of music for being visceral the other emotional aspect that always appeals to me is melancholy (combining those two aspects explains my adoration of suicidal black metal). Soul music has sorrow in spades.  It has the same appeal to me that alot of classic country music does, and while i love some "i'm drinking because she took the kids" songs i prefer when it's backed by a nimble rhythm section.
My oldest son has taken up trumpet in his school band.  I think it's a cool instrument (while my wife would've prefered saxophone, a nod to her grandfather) and his introduction to the horn has caused me to pay more attention to it in the music in my collection.  This CD by #leefieldsandtheexpressions is my current fav of their canon and has some real hooky songs about loneliness and the band (not leastly the trumpet player) is razor sharp and the definition of tasteful playing.  I don't think the boy cares about this stuff when i play it in his presence.  Yet.  I'm hoping these sounds and songs embed themselves in the recesses of his brain not saturated with his affinity for video games and salt-engorged snacks.

Rush "hold your fire"

Anyone who knows me knows that i have been on a huge #rush kick for a couple of months. This was the album they were touring for the first time i caught them live in 1988. It's not my favorite in their canon but like so many other CDs i write about it has a nostalgic resonance i can't shake. I  have been really been contemplating the reasons i am so obsessed with their discography. I believe it's part of some sort of mid-life crisis. All of my life there has been a new Rush album. Even in the era of their career where i wasn't buying their new releases i was aware of the albums. I knew what the artwork looked like, they were always on my radar. I am currently delving into those albums and finding how much i truly enjoy the entirety of their output. A few years ago they did a retrospective tour (one of my biggest life regrets is that i did not attend for whatever reason) and all signs are pointing to the band being over. I am in uncharted territory now. A life without new Rush albums.  It made me realise that i took the comfort of their existence for granted. I have watched (and re-watched) multiple documentaries about the band, i have read Neil Peart's books, i have listened to Alex and Geddy's solo albums, i have perused youtube's hours of interview footage.  Since i started buying music they were one of the first three bands whose discographies i started collecting (Kiss and Iron Maiden were the others since you asked). It's a frantic purpose to absorb the material i took for granted in the '90s. I need it because, well... it looks like there will be no more.  That really, REALLY makes me feel abandoned and bleak. The summer before i went to college i had a summer job as a custodian at a school. I rented a room from a guy that lived near the school that i also helped with his dj and live music backline business. He had a mammoth beautiful drum kit in his dining room and on many mornings i was woken up to him pounding out the song "show don't tell" off of the album "Presto".  Every time he did it i was jarred awake (his intention) and while it may have seemed like a dick move i would smile go downstairs and shout the lyrics over the percussive din. Every time.

Michael Jackson "thriller"

I was ten years old when "thriller" was released.  This album was everywhere.  Seriously, you could not be alive in public and not be bombarded with this record. It doesnt hurt that it is a true masterpiece of pop music.  There are albums that come along and seem to change everything that comes after it ("Nevermind", "The Chronic", "OK Computer")  but this record created a template that pop music still uses today.  We were listening to the new Bruno Mars album at the tattoo shop and i kept thinking: "here is more #michaeljackson worship 35 years later".  I loved (and still love) this album.  I know all the crap that tarnishes Jackson's legacy but it really can't touch (sorry) this CD.   My sister, who is a year younger, and i had chores around the house.  We used to have to wash and dry dishes after dinner. It seemed we always played this cassette on a boom box in the kitchen.  The two of us often fought. We fought about who would wash versus dry, we fought about who got to use the "good rake" to clean the yard, we fought about who was breathing who's air.  We didnt fight over what tape to play.  She had a Michael Jackson doll that i used to stage in inappropriate positions with her Barbie doll when she wasn't around.  We used to practice moon walking on our linoleum floor. We would split a pair of gloves so we each only donned one.  My sons love pop music right now.   They are really into contemporary singles.  I try and play some of my snobby stuff or nostalgic stuff i wish they would like and they act like no music is playing at all.  When "thriller" gets played it's a Menter Family Dance Party. It doesn't sound dated.  It is still an engaging and body moving work of art.  That's powerful stuff.

Summoned "lunarterial"

I meet a ton of people through my career as a tattoo artist.  Most of them i like and a few of them i get to be friends with.  I wear my interests on my sleeve (usually quite literally) so when i find common ground it makes my world a little bigger.  The kindness i encounter is actually pretty staggering and i try to pay the kindness forward often.  Recently a guy i tattooed and i had discovered a shared interest in music,  specifically melancholic blackened post-metal.  We share discoveries and rant and rave about our favorite stuff.  More recently we began to discuss inner city home ownership.  It always makes the times he comes in a pleasure: cool conversations and he likes to get skull tattoos.  He and his better half recently ventured to Philadelphia for a music festival. He returned to the shop woth a couple of CDs he purchased there that he thought i would like.  As you may have guessed i really like CDs so i was thrilled to receive the gifts.  One of the discs he gave me is this #summoned album "lunarterial".  It is a deep blackened pit of of atonal death doom.  Howled vicious vocals over a din so evil it sounds inhuman.  He hit it out of the park, i love this CD!  It's funny that something so caustic sounding can make me feel so warm and fuzzy.

Astrud Gilberto "beach samba"

The wife and i are enjoying a kid free weekend.   All three rug rats are at my mom's house in the country for the weekend.  Last night we drank too much at a few of our old haunts in the city.  We slept in and meandered off for indian food for lunch and run a bunch of errands at a leisurely pace without the constant kinetic energy of three young boys wearing us down.  We bathed the dog and are enjoying a warm day with the windows open in the house.  It's a great day for this record.  I discovered #astrudgilberto in my twenties through the album she did with stan getz and their awesome version of "girl from impanema".  I've always found her echo drenched vocals soothing and love this album on lazy warm days.  I once declares this CD the "summer album of the season" to a friend and peer.  He argued that the statement didnt make any sense and i obtusely defended my remark.  I thought it was just more playful banter but later found out he was really upset at me.  It strikes me as really funny and ironic that this warm samba album incited such animosity.  Ok, so as i wrote that i realised that the album didn't incite any animosity; my obscene love of debate did.  But that wouldn't make this memoir about a compact disc as clever.  Ill just go ahead and remind people that this is still my summer album of the season.

Smart Went Crazy "con art"

When this #smartwentcrazy disc came out i was in a very directionless point in my life.  I had a job i liked but didnt pay well at a silk-screen print shop. My first band was breaking up and i was still reeling from the heartbreak of being dumped ny my girlfriend.  I was twenty-five years old and had felt like i had blown all my chances at being the best version of myself.  I was wired to be that romantically tragic.  This CD floated into my life at precisely the right moment to be my favorite album for months on end.  It is smart indie rock with some post-punk angst wrapped up in a urban-chic melancholy that i could not resist.  To this day, twenty years after it's release, i have not found a band that has so aptly used a cello in rock music.  While laying on my bed in my cold west side apartment i remember pondering the cello and remember my brief encounter with the instrument in elementary school. In fifth grade I wanted to learn an instrument so when a sign up sheet appeared in my music classroom i looked at the available instruments and signed up for bass.  Gene Simmons played bass guitar and i figured there was a connection to the two instruments.  When it came time to be assigned instruments i was too late to get a bass but the music instructor assured me i would enjoy cello and had shown me the two instruments and it looked like a smaller version of the bass.  I was able to take the instrument home and start my lessons.  I remember it being frustrating because while i loved the vibration and tone of the instrument i was impatient with my ability to make anything that sounded like music to me.  And none of the music i loved at that age had a cello in it and i couldn't see how this instrument would ever translate to what i wanted to be a part of.  In a fit of frustration i remember snapping the bow and having to return the instrument and abandoning the lessons.  It is one of the biggest regrets of my life.  So i laid on my bed listening to this great rock album with powerful and beautiful cello incorporation and wished i could time machine myself a copy so that my impatient little self could have connected the universal dots of music.

Sepultura "roots"

Last night my family was engaged in a vicious round of the pop-o-matic board game "Trouble".  My wife plays a bloodthirsty style and was unflinching in sending our sons back to the start of the game.  She turned her relentless win-at-all-costs attention towards me and i started singing the chorus to "cut-throat" from this #sepultura album.  My middle son started joining me in throaty unison and i pulled the song up on my phone so he could hear the real deal.  He and i were the only ones enjoying the playback.  It made me realise that i am constantly scoring the soundtrack to my life.  My obsession with music has led me to a vast catalog to choose from and its rare that I'm in any situation and do not have an apt song playing in my head.  I'm not saying I'm as good as Wes Anderson or either of the "Guardians of the Galaxy" movies but it is a soundtrack that rarely stops.  When i was younger i used to hum and sing to my drawings (still do).  If i were drawing an army tank i would rattle "taps" or belt out the theme song from "First Blood".  I don't  know if it was because i spent a great deal of time watching cable TV and absorbed awesome soundtracks ("Conan the Barbarian" score still gets my blood boiling) as a kid or if music is just that deeply engrained in my genetic code.  Either way,  when you see me be assured i have a song in my head for the situation.  It also reminds me that i have clogged my recall memory with songs.  I can't remember algebraic proofs.  I cannot recall which type of motor oil my car uses.  I can't even tell you how many cups of water it takes to make a pack of ramen noodles.  Rest assured i can sing along to the english lyrics on this record and phonetically mimic the other languages while scatting guitar riffs and drum breaks.  I'm doing it while typing this.

Jawbox "jawbox"

In 1996 I caught #jawbox live at the Showplace Theater in Buffalo.  They were touring for what would ultimately be their last album.  We didn't know it at the time.  That show changed my life as a musician.  Up to that point I had been playing in a punk band and didn't really pay attention to gear. I played a hand me down bass on the biggest practice amp I could afford (a fender bxr100 amp if you're taking notes.  I couldn't tell you what make that cream bass guitar was)  I parked myself in front of the bass player's rig (which is still my custom) and the band launched into their set.  I remember really loving the set but was absolutely enthralled by Kim Coleta's bass tone. So punchy, so big.  It was the sound I wanted to make.  She played a fender jazz bass through an ampeg 8x10 cabinet and some sort of ampeg bass head I don't remember.  I left this show on a mission.  I wasn't making much money at the print shop where I was working but I bought a used ampeg svt pro head and shortly after I bought a floor model ampeg 4x10 cabinet.  I've always coveted the 8x10 cab but never had any reasonable way to lug around what amounted to a small refrigerator.  The guitar took a little longer.  With a tax return and a month of Ramen noodles I was able to purchase an american fender jazz bass guitar.  The whole process took me a couple of years.  When I had all these components I used to walk up to the band rehearsal space for the indie rock band I was in at the time and sit Indian style in front of the rig and just run the only scale I knew.  I let that sound wash over me.  It was my most prized possession in my life up to that point.
I don't know if it was that live bass sound or what but this "s/t" CD remains my favorite of their canon.  It flies in the face of what is generally regarded as their best album.  That's not my problem. The songs on here are dark and obtuse. Time changes and texture.  It's a heart wringing muscle flex of D.C. post-hardcore done with artistic flair.  I come back to this CD often.

Descendents "milo goes to college"

In 1989 I bought #descendents "milo goes to college" because a friend of mine told me it had the drummer from Black Flag.  I remember being bummed that this album wasn't as ferocious as "damaged" but I listened to this alot at the pizzeria I worked at. It's catchy proto - pop punk won over the cute blonde at work so it won me over too.  On one occasion I was skateboarding through Como Park on my way to meet my friends.  I was listening to this on my Walkman cassette player when a Camaro swerved towards me on the park road. I naturally yelled obscenities at them and flipped them the bird. The car screeched to a halt and did a burn out u-turn back towards me.  I kicked my skateboard into my hand and stepped onto the grass next to the road.  The car loudly screeched to a stop just a few feet from me and I remember the smell of but rubber from all of their muscle car heroics.  I saw there were two dudes in the car as it stopped and as the passenger door opened towards me in a fit of blind anger and self-defence I rushed the car and swung my skateboard at my would-be assailant.  It struck him broad side in his melon and he crumpled back into the car seat and the Camaro peeled off.  I stood there basking in pride of staving off bullies when a family at a nearby picnic table yelled after me that I was an "animal".  That still stings to this day. The errant assessment that labeled me an "animal" .  I skated my ass off to my friend's house fearing the return of the bitchin' Camaro (I swear I'm not making this shit up) with reinforcements.  My buddie's were frenzied up at my tale of skateboard swordplay and we all skated en masse to the park looking for a fight.  The car never came back.  The passenger of the car was later identified due to the large grip tape brush burn on his forehead and it was a summer of conflict between our two groups culminating in another fist fight at a C.Y.O. dance (which I lost).  You'd think this linked memory would make this disc something that would agitate me, but my clearest memory of the event was the smell of cut grass in the park and the rumble of its rough pavement under my skateboard wheels.  It makes this a summer standard for me.

Hellhammer "apocalyptic raids"

The first time I heard #hellhammer was around 1987.  A friend had given me a cassette with this album on one side and Onslaught "power from hell" on the flip (a great album in its own right).  I LOVED this Hellhammer album right from the first listen.  I've read accounts of how despised this band was upon it's release.  I'm always a little surprised.  Yeah, it's primitive and borders on cheesy in it's desire to be evil as hell.  I think the thing that sells it though is the sincerity of artistic focus.  The album exists solely as an honest statement, it is not derivitive and I believe that resonates with those of us who love this shit.  I was talking about "true metal" with one of my co-workers yesterday and I believe that there is no truer metal than this.  It is heavy metal distilled down to it's concentrated essence.  Leather, spikes, long hair, double bass drums and smear distorted riffs.  There's no pandering to non-metal.  The music is singular in it's appeal.  That purity is what I freaking love about this album.  As an album I actually prefer the follow up Celtic Frost's "morbid tales" but as a statement of extreme heavy metalness I believe this album is unprecedented.

Steppenwolf "16 greatest hits "

I've always had a love affair with motorcycles.  I had Evel Knievel toys as a kid, I remember some psychedelic chopper children's book I used to check out of my elementary school library repeatedly (I've searched repeatedly for that book but have been unable to find it with such little clues)  I watched "easy rider" as a teenager and fantasized of the rebellious freedom. In high school I read Robert M. Pirsig's "zen and the art of motorcycle maintenance" and it literally changed my internal wiring. I've read a trio of books more than three times each in my life. Pirsig's "zen..." Tolkien's "lord of the rings" (I count it as one book.) and Herman Hesse's "steppenwolf".  Those three books have resonated with me over and over.  I discovered the band #steppenwolf while watching "easy rider", it wasn't for a few years I discovered the book the stole their name from.  I bought a cassette of "16 hits" in high school smack dab in my heavy metal phase.  I was also into Pink Floyd's "the wall" at that time.  There was something hesher-historic about the band (they did coin the phrase "heavy metal thunder") and I really loved the collection of songs.  When I finally started riding motorcycles I found "born to be wild" was consistently my inner-soundtrack.  I realise how cliche that is.  I'm not ashamed of it.  My love of motorcycles is a conundrum for me: I realise how dangerous they are. My father was killed on one.  My wife works as a nurse in the er of a hospital.  She was fearful every summer seeing the parade of maimed motorcyclists. I gave mine up because it became an issue to ride with my obligations to my small children and storage of beloved metal steed.  I long for another bike.  When the kids are older I'll get another.  The warmer months are painful for me.  Hearing bikes and seeing them on open country roads calls to me like a siren.  I can't wait to have that steppenwolf song stuck in my head again as I use all of my senses to navigate and manipulate another bike.

Jawbreaker "unfun"

In 1991 I somehow landed a copy of the "Hardcore Breakout" compilation.  It introduced me to two of my all-time favorite bands: Samiam and #jawbreaker . I rarely, if ever purchase compilation CDs anymore but there was a time that this format was how I discovered bands.  I could rattle off a dozen discs I purchased from strong appearances on compilations and split 7"s.  I was turned on to jawbreaker at first because of the tonality and style of the vocals (actually that's what turned me on to samiam too, but in a different way)  I ordered this disc (still the original) directly from the label through an ad in Maximum Rock n'Roll.  I remember I sent cash folded into some drawings.  The dude from the label included a note saying the drawings were awesome when I received this cd.  It was a very encouraging moment and actually bolstered my artistic efforts. I don't remember what I sent and I could have sworn I tucked that note inside this cd booklet but it's not there and I'm pretty bummed.  With every release Jawbreaker got better but this first album still holds a dear (you) place in my heart.  The song "fine day" made its way onto mix tapes I made for years.   It was just announced that the band is reuniting for the first time in 21 years (fuck, I bought this cd and have been carting it around for 27 years.  I'm old).  They have announced a single festival date that I probably won't be able to attend (though I really really want to)  I really hope the band can hold it together for at least a tour and maybe, dare I hope, a new album. I've followed all the band members since the breakup and bought their subsequent discs but I'd love the alchemy of Jawbreaker to release some more songs.  And Fugazi, if you're reading this: we need you too.

Portal "swarth"

There aren't many bands than can unnerve me with a live performance. #portal is one of them.  A friend accompanied me to a metal show at the Mohawk Place in Buffalo.  We were excited to see black metallers Krallice and didn't really know anything about the other bands on the bill.  The club was not packed but the people that were there were all into the fringes of metal.  I had heard rumblings that dude who runs Profound Lore records was there (impeccable metal record label, you can throw a dart at their catalog and hit an awesome album) so we started getting excited about the show.  I did my customary trip to the merch tables.   I love when bands bring stuff by other bands, like a travelling underground record store.  I bought CDs by everyone on the bill (including this one ) and started drinking cheap beer at the bar.  While I am a beer snob there is something mystical about metal (and punk) shows that makes cheap beer not only palatable but actually desirable.  So we watched the band's plow through their sets and were enjoying the evening  (and getting rather drunk) when the headliners Portal finally took the stage.  All of the lights were turned off except for two red bulbs, the band took the stage dressed all in black with black sacks over their heads and large nooses tied around their necks.  The kicked into a blackened noise of arpeggio riffs and the vocalist took the stage in a black pope's outfit with a sheer opaque black mask over his face.  The vocalist made grand gestures while grotesquely grumbling over the din.  I was raised Roman catholic and the entire scene was obscene and unsettling.  I loved it. Ghost came out a couple years later and while I enjoy their similar aesthetic it seems like a Kiss Army characature compared to Portal.  My friend and I had no idea what we were in store for.  We were mesmerized by the unlistenable experience.  This disc and this band are only vaguely musical.  All of the necessary rock instruments are present but the band plays a roaring vacuum,  not songs.  They feel menacing and evil but sound like nothing else.  I can't say I love this cd.  I can say it changed how I appreciate the artistic aesthetic of music.

Prince and the Revolution "purple rain"

In 1984 I was twelve years old.  My blossoming hormones had not missed Appolonia. It was and is a fantastic movie with arguably the best soundtrack ever.  I had spent a morning playing Dungeons & Dragons at my friends house.  We spent the morning with dice, graph paper and off-brand soda pop.  The three of us wrangled with whatever module we had managed to get our hands on for a few hours before  my friend had to leave.  I retired to my buddy's basement where their record player was and we listened to #princeandtherevolution sing about things we had no grasp of.  We were definitely excited by "darling nikki" but really were too naive still to fully grasp how filthy that song really is.  We played the backward vocals back word by disengaging the record players belt by leaving the speed knob stuck between 33 and 45rpm.  Maybe we were seduced by the hedonistic world of Prince, maybe rock and roll is actually the devil's music or maybe we were just dumb but it was then that we decided to sample the booze in my friend's  father's fully stocked basement bar.  We were innocently enough just trying to sample what all the hub bub was about.  Why were certain brands in George Thorogood songs?  We sipped and reeled from many of the bottles as "baby I'm a star" egged us on.  We didn't realise we would end up getting smashed.  In hindsight we were really just that dumb, but at the time that outcome hadn't occurred to us.  We got drunk goofey.  We knew we had to get away from the scene of the crime and tried to ride our bikes to the playground behind the elementary school.  We repeatedly crashed and fell.  We were unfamiliarly dizzy and without any of our faculties.  We pushed our bikes and laughed and drool spit our way to the end of our street where we ended up just sitting on someone's front lawn and rolled around laughing.  I don't remember how long it took us to sober up and I know we never got caught, which amazes me really.  The episode was a PMRC wet dream.  That Prince record is some powerful stuff.

Sir Mix Alot "baby got back"

I hate karaoke.  I've tried to like it.  I don't mind going with others who want to sing but I hate doing it.  There was a stretch of time where a bunch of my musician friends were roving around western New York trying out different karaoke nights at different bars.  They were all into it and it made for fun nights.  My friends put on shows.  Acting like schmaltzy lounge singers (even going so far as to attend events in tuxedos and wigs) or stadium rockers with abandon.  Some could sing very well, some couldn't.  They started entering competitions and the whole thing took on a life of its own.  It was great fun to spectate.  My dirty secret is that I hate performing.  Yeah, I've been in bands for years and played many shows around the country.  It's my least favorite part of being a musician. I loved rehearsals.  You and your friends conjuring songs and jokes. I loved recording.  The wizardry of the studio and documentation of your efforts.  Performing live in a band you can sort of hide personally behind the band is an entiry. That and beer were the reasons I got through it.  Always had the jitters and always wanted to bolt afterwards.   The only thing more embarassing than performing is small talking about your performance afterwards. 
This is the only song I've ever sung at karaoke.  I chose it because it's goofy,  it's a rap  (so tonality doesn't matter as much) and because I know all the words.  I twerked, I lap danced and I spat the lyrics out.  I received riotus applause and knew at that moment I would never do anything like that again. 
By the way I also know all the words to the b-side "cake boy".
"You drink much brew-ha, got a body like buddha"

Curve "frozen"

I sorely miss the days when CDeps and CD singles were widely used.  I miss their exclusive tracks/b-sides and remixes.  They were affordable and came with artwork outside of the band's full length canon. They were a way to get a sizable sample of band's work outside of an isolated compilation track.  This ep by #curve sounds really dated. It's '90s production is almost overpowering but it is a compliment to the dark and sultry electro -pop.  There are shoegaze elements and a twin peaks/Angelo Badlamenti vibe to the thing that I loved when I purchased this back in 1991.  This was a period in my life I was into indestrial/electronic music.  I'd buy anything on wax trax! Records and coveted my Ministry, Skinny Puppy and KMFDM albums.  Curve fall into a more shoegazey end of that sort of music and the song "the colour hurts" was making it onto all of my mix tapes.  I bought their follow up full length "doppleganger" (one of my favorite words) and they continued in the quasi-gothic brooding vein but I seem to always return to this ep.  What's especially great about this ep is that as far as I know none of these four songs appeared on any other of their releases.  I have carted this copy around since 1991,  that is saying something.  Through my countless moves and subsequent collection purging this cd has consistently made the cut.  I've liked this disc enough through all my musical phases to never let it go to make room for new stuff.  It may be the nostalgia, this thing is a time capsule that teleports me back to my freshman year of college, it may be my underlying affinity for anything melancholic or it might be an effect of how deeply I miss the extended playing format.  In any event I don't see this cd going anywhere.

Garden Variety "knocking the skill level"

In the '90s I had been doing illustrations and writing reviews for fanzines.  I didn't get paid for it, but I did receive CDs which I would have inevitably spent the money on anyhow.  This period of my life opened me up to a ton of stuff,  a great deal of it I didn't like and would often wrestle with writing non-dismissive reviews because I appreciated someone spent a lot of time and effort on these shiny plastic discs.  There were a few real game changing gems that I received though too and this #gardenvariety disc was one of them.  It's a D.C./post-hardcore vibe with personal lyrics.  Getting an album this good in the mail just affirmed the time I spent on the art and writing.  I mean I have been obsessed over music since I discovered it as an amassable entity.  At this time of my life though nothing else really mattered to me.  I had started playing bass guitar in a band, I was neck deep 'zine culture, I was working with a punk rock television show, I attending any show I could and drank coffee (which was not musical in nature but was social and I would yammer on about music to anyone who was within earshot).  I was singular in purpose.  That singularity of purpose has happened a few times in my life: tattooing and fatherhood being the others.  That trinity of obsessions really does define me.  There is nothing I do that doesn't fall under those three catagories.  While writing this the song "soft on the name" is playing and the lyrical refrain is repeating: "you're always the last one left to find out" and maybe there are people who find their "centers" in life sooner than I did. It turns out to navigate there I had to triangulate.
This disc came out in 1995.  If I really think about the 22 years since I got it on its release alot of heavy shit has transpired, but this disc still sounds great and still resonates with me.  It makes me want to play music.  It makes me want to drink the rest of this pot of coffee and research what these band members have been up to.  It makes me want to listen to it again while I tattoo tomorrow.  It reminds me of walking around buffalo with headphones so I'm going to get the boys together and go for a walk today. Centered.

Mentors "you axed for it"

I discovered the #mentors by listening to the college radio station WBNY in the late '80s.  Where I lived in the suburbs it took a lot of work to listen to the station.  It's grossly under powered transmission was meant for the campus only so tuning it in my neighborhood was like summoning a demonic overlord.  I would go to the northwest corner of my grandmother's apartment upstairs in the duplex where we lived.  I'd sit by the window (opened if possible, weather permitting ) and in this precise area at a precise time I would fold what must have been pounds of tin foil in exotic origami like shapes to the fully extended antennae of my boom box. I would constantly wiggle and adjust the setup until the crackly semi-clear transmission could be heard.  I would have a cassette tape cues up to record with the pause button engaged so that I could record songs with a gentle button push so as not to disturb my delicate and tenuous set up.  The metal show on wbny was legendary to my circle of friends, they played tons of underground stuff that we devoured.  A friend of mine had captured the song "four F club" from this album on tape and we all poured over it's vulgar lyrics and cave man metal. We had spent hours memorizing John Valby tapes (look him up) so the sexist dirty lyrics were a welcome addition to our collection of forbidden media.  It was a song I had always hoped to catch myself.  It was a quest.  We traded these tapes we made of the show and compiled our favorite songs (Thrust's "posers will die" became legendary this way)  but I really wanted my own Mentors song trapped on my own cassette.  Actually, come to think of it that song had no business on the radio but WBNY felt like a pirate radio and I suppose at the time it kinda was.  I eventually caught "four F club" and "sandwich of love" on tape.  It wasn't until pretty recently that I ever owned a proper release by the band.  I try not to smirk at the gross lyrics but I still do.  This is not a cd I play when the kids are around.

Slayer "show no mercy"

In the spring of 1985 I had been given a cassette which had Venom's "at war with satan" on one side and Slayer's "hell awaits" on the other.  That tape opened Pandora's box of heavy metal.  I searched out albums by both bands and at Cavages record store I found my own copies of #slayer "hell awaits", "haunting the chapel" and "show no mercy". I was already hooked on Iron Maiden but this was a whole new level of dangerous sounding music.  By the end of ninth grade I was ready to replace my Maiden back patch (I had shredded the jacket it was on getting drunk in a field behind the elementary school)  I went to our trusted head shop Pavillion International and got a back patch of this album cover.  A goat - headed sword welding satan in front of Slayer's original (and sorely missed) logo.  I wore that badge of confrontation proudly.  It led to confrontation.  That jean jacket never left my flesh and every day in the cafeteria there was a table of jocks that would mockingly exclaim "slayer!" as I walked past their lunch table. They had done it for weeks and laughed to each other.  One day one of them upped the humiliation and chucked a tater tot at me as I slunk past.  I was already an angry kid and the rage had been building over this incessant harassment.  The tot hit my shoulder and then ricochet to my head. I stopped and pivoted 90 degrees to my left, took three steps and smashed the closest dude in the face with my lunch tray. He tried to stand up and I punched him and he toppled.  I grabbed the chair he had been sitting in and threw it indiscriminately at the person who had been seated at his right. While I was enraged I remember time slowing to an almost serene pace. I threw some ineffective punches at someone's back, whoever I could reach and was then grabbed from behind by our gym teacher. He roughly and silently shoved me out of the cafeteria towards the school office.  I received a week of in-school suspension.  When the week was up and I returned to classes I was dreading lunch and the jock retaliation.  My head was on a paranoid swivel all day. Every guy in a letterman jacket a potential threat.  I anxiously waited for retribution all day.  None came.  Not a peep.  I nervously went to school the next day.  Still nothing.  No jeers of "slayer!"  Years later I ran into a guy I didn't know who was at that table.  He was bouncing at a bar on Chippewa.   He asked me of my name was Joel Menter. I responded that it was.  He then told me that I beat his friend in high school with a chair (not entirely accurate) and that it was the most bad ass thing he had ever seen.  He said they were all terrified of me and believed I was a satanic cultist.  He laughed and shook my hand and let me in the bar without paying the cover.  Man, I wish I still had that jacket.

Immolation "here in after"

In the late '90s I was working at a silk screening shop.  We hand pulled greeting cards for a local company. It was here I ended up meeting one of my best friends.  When I started at the shop he had long hair down to his ass, and was obviously a metal head.  I had been deeply involved in indie rock and the first wave of emo for a few years but found myself welcoming his turns on the shop cd player.  It was through him I rediscovered my love for death metal.  I had asked him to make me a "best of" compilation of Morbid Angel and he also made a general mix of death metal.  On that mix was "Christ's Cage" by #immolation .   Back in the day I had a cassette that someone put their demo on.  I remember loving the vocals but I don't remember much else.  When I heard this song I was hooked on death metal all over again and through my buddie's guidance (and his personal cd collection ) I started mining the depths of the genre again.  My rekindled relationship with metal became kind of an inside joke with the bands I was involved with at the time, most of the other members  (actually, none of the other members) had any history with heavy music let alone death metal.  It became a special sort of insular musical cocoon for me at the time.  My buddie and I started attending the odd metal show together and all the reasons I loved metal in the first place kind of just bubbled to the surface again and it wasn't long before I was re-immersed in it's evil din.  Prior to working at that print shop my cd collection contained Slayer's "reign in blood" and the first four Black Sabbath albums.  Now almost half of my collection falls under the heavy metal flag.  The music just doesn't ever let you go.  "Christ's Cage" is still one of my favorite songs in its wide world.

Sparks "angst in my pants"

I learned everything I know about romance from the movie "Valley Girl".  Nicholas Cage was my spirit animal in 1984.  The sound track's centerpiece is Modern English's "I melt with you" and is in my opinion the greatest love song ever written, but that's another blog.  This #sparks album has two tracks in that movie.  I discovered this record over a decade later while in my late twenties. It encapsulates new wave music for me. Catchy synth - driven pop songs with lyrics informed by punk rock's self deprecating and crass sense of humor.  In the movie the song "angst in my pants" played during a valley dance party in which the party goers eat sushi and molly-ringwald-dance in a carpeted living room.  The setting was as alien to me then as much as now.  The other song in the movie: "eaten by the monster of love" plays during a jeans-tightening scene where a girl's mother tries to seduce her teen daughter's love interest.  A risqué concept then and taboo beyond belief now.  So yeah, that sequence and sing shoot straight to my id.  I imagine that if I make it to nursing home age while the nurses are sponge bathing my wrinkled nethers that song will be playing in my head. A fitting bookend to my sexual awareness.

Social Distortion "s/t"

In the spring of 1990 my senior year was winding down and I was hanging out at my buddy's house.  We were having a pretty intense and animated tournament of Double Dribble on the NES.  My friend's dad was an intimidating giant brick shit house of a man.  A veteran and firefighter with an authoritarian streak 100 miles wide.  While my friend and I were playing the game our smack talk got pretty colorful and uninterrupted.   Verbal jabs were being tossed around indiscriminately. It was at this point his imposing father must have entered the room because we were both startled by a booming voice declaring: "these video games are a sickness with you!"  In our frenzied state of shit-talk my poor friend responded to him "oh yeah? What about your stamp collection?".  I couldn't fucking believe it. I swung my head in disbelief to look at him.  He was already looking at me, fear vibrating in his eyes.  I heard two booming footsteps and he disappeared from view. I reeled around to see his father one-armed pick him up and chuck him over their coffee table onto their couch.  I panicked and actually thought about diving through a window. He snarled "joel, it's time to leave." I was already in motion towards the door abandoning my friend to his fate.  The next day I skated to his house and timidly knocked on the door when I saw his father's car wasn't there.  We joked about our near death experience and marveled at my friends loose lips.  We spent that afternoon grateful he was alive and hit a parking lot with yellow parking curbs to skate and listened to this tape on a boombox. We started shit talking again almost immediately.