2024.05.17
ALBUM REVIEW: Filthy Liars - If All Else Fails, Cry
and 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.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
2024.05.09
In Memory of Steve Albini
It’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.