Wednesday, July 28, 2004

Albums I enjoyed listening to today but don't really feel like critically analyzing too much (in part because they subvert graspability all twisty-like and my pop brain just sat back and let it ride for a change):

Wilco, A Ghost Is Born: More interesting than A.M., more indulgent than everything since. Tweedy's a shit poet now that he's trying, but his voice sounds like Neil Young's would if post-punk had sabotaged his rock dreams. Plus, I can do the robot to "Spiders (Kidsmoke)," which at 10 minutes isn't long enough.

Mountain Goats, We Shall All Be Healed: John, please skip k thanx (been listening to this too much to say nothing about it). I blamed my indifference to Talahassee on the fact that I was nobody's folkie. ILX exposure to the bandleader inspired me to borrow three Ajax albums from the radio station and I discovered how enjoyable the verbal imagery is, even if I find it hard to focus and little sticks around after it's over ("where's the chorus?" DOWN, pop brain!). Less choppy than its immediate predecessor (though I dig the stuff from that sounds the most like this one now), this album is great folk-rock and William Bowers at Pitchfork can eat a dick (not the MG's fault you're a corny indie fuck who has no right to be pointing out "the adamancy of a virgin" in others). Ok, John you can turn back now.

Les Baton Rouge, My Body The Pistol: less anthemic than riot grrrl, but once I hook into the lyrics it may feel like a rawk Raincoats.

Fire Party, Fire Party: less anthemic than Fugazi, but more striking than Rites Of Spring and Embrace. I'm really pissed Amy Pickering didn't start another band after this one. She can holler.

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