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myworld.observer / plum digest
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2024.06.07
ALBUM
REVIEW: Filthy
Liars - If All
Else Fails,
Cry & Cry
Again
One
of my favorite parts of working at the smoke shop is their
sound system. There are speakers scattered all around the room
so that anything panned left or right in the mix is REALLY
panned left or right, and there's a beefy subwoofer too. In
layman's terms, this means that while I'm sorting, stocking
& schmoozing throughout the day, my tunes sound great.
I've been taking advantage of this setup to revisit some of
the records that I haven't heard in forever, and appreciate
them in the context of my life today.
The first band that I think bears
mention on these pages is Halifax, Ontario ensemble Filthy
Liars. They're long since over and done with, but their 2014
opus “If All Else Fails, Cry and Cry Again” is a masterwork of
balance between infectious, melodic hooks & everything I
love about punk rock. On opener “Flight Risk”, the lyrics
“Tell me what it's like up there with all of your choices /
but don't tell me to pick my battles / cause if I could
fucking choose I wouldn't have them” act as a rallying cry for
themes of alienation, hypocrisy and anger that permeate the
other songs. But don't get it twisted, this isn't a Neurosis
record – there's an almost radio-friendly poppiness lurking
under those riffs. I challenge anyone reading this to listen
to “Hands on Ends” or the spectacularly titled "Your Eyes Look
Like Two Pissholes In The Snow" without humming the chorus for
a few days afterward. The final track, “Home Sweet Homo (In
Too Deep)”, has maybe my favorite line on the record, though -
“Can you feel it, the amassing rage? / This fire in your
stomach is made of all the times you compromised your
integrity”. Untouchable.
I'm all in on a 5/5 for this one.
RIYL: Team Dresch, The Beths, Dinosaur Jr. Find it at Bandcamp.
~ and then, there was
a whole lotta nothin'
til... ~
2024.05.09
On the passing of Steve
Albini
t’s
around 2 am. At 7:45 or so,
I will walk down my front
steps and begin my morning
commute, hoofin’ it to the
smoke shop to observe &
assist humans in their
pursuit of cigarettes,
vapes, bongs, pipes, pipe
cleaners, incense, sparkling
water with natural peach
flavoring, etc. But that’s
then, and this is now, and
right now I need to stay up
and try to understand why
I'm so upset about the death
of Steve Albini. Frankly,
his unexpected passing has
thrown me into a full-on
mortality crisis.
One
of my clearest childhood
memories of music was
sitting in my dad’s
idiosyncratic brown car as
Nirvana’s “All Apologies”
played on the radio.
Something about the end of
the song, where Kurt and
Dave’s harmonies alone
accompany Steve’s signature
roomy drum sound, struck
6-year-old me as haunting
and kind of different than
other music I’d heard up to
that point. Since then, my
appreciation for his work
has only grown as I realized
just how many of my favorite
bands recorded with him.
Slint, The Breeders, Pixies,
Low, Guided By Voices,
Bedhead, Jawbreaker, Engine
Kid, Owls, Failure, Crain,
Magnolia Electric Co... the
list goes on.
Later on, in my own pursuits
of recording music, Steve's
uncompromising ethic of
capturing a raw, essential
live sound was and is my
north star. I guess almost
without knowing it, I
assumed that this person
would be around for as long
as I was, making records
forever. His sudden exit
(heart attack IN THE STUDIO
no less) has left me
wondering how best to use my
very non-guaranteed time on
this earth.
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Last updated
2024.06.07 ~
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