Listen to this show from start to finish. It will be an interesting experience. I guarantee it. However, if you don’t enjoy the ride you are welcome to ask for your money back. “Wait a second. If this show is free of charge then how will I get my money back?” That’s precisely my point.

1) Alex Chilton — “Baron of L#ve”

2) Aerosmith — “M{}ma Kin”

3) The Dwarves — “I Want You to D+e”

3) Leatherface — “Little White G%d”

4) Operation Ivy — “Sle=p Long”

5) Hawkwind — Motorhead

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The Daily News wrote a while back about a guy who died falling down an escalator at Shea Stadium. The article described how this guy, a hard-working Dad, fell to his death while his children watched in horror. They closed the article by mentioning that this is Shea’s last season in business. Very interesting.

You know what makes me feel good? A warm shower that lasts as long as I want, and the Pegboy song, “Through My Fingers“. When Naked Raygun broke up I felt a hard punch in the gut. But when Pegboy got together and started playing shows — the pain subsided.

There is an excellent guitar solo in this song — something ole Slash would be proud of. Speaking of Slash — his new book is not half bad. I’ve got a lot to say about that book, but I’ll try and sum it up in one sentence: Love you bros, your beer, your art and the good and bad times with family.

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The riffs are ripping my chest apart while Dying Fetus go on about being born in Sodom.“This is pure grindcore,” Charlie says. Then he says, “It’s ain’t how much you write – it’s how you say it.”

I’ve got things to say. I want to tell him that. Instead, I look on in awe as he thumbs his way through his hard drive collection showing me, like a true expert, why metal matters. This guy has way too much music. We’re talking every single Sabbath album, not just the good ones. He even has the one with Toni Iommi standing off to the side by his lonesome looking into the wind, thinking – “Where the fuck is Ozzy?” And he still had the nerve to call that shite Black Sabbath. “Actually,” Charlie interrupts – “the record label made him do it.”

Charlie also plays some Witchcraft. While listening my mouth drops bits of saliva – it happens the same way when I think about a bowl of wonton soup. Rock versus WonTon soup — that would be a tough battle.

There is something about these guys from Orebro, Sweden that sounds fantastically brilliant in that heavy way that makes you pump your fist in the air with a stoic smile while yelling: “Things don’t always have to be this way.” Each song by Witchcraft is a finely crafted piece of work , and the fact that they are from Sweden and say things like “I can not wake the dead/since they are all ready alive,” makes them extra cool. That little bit came off the shredder, “Wooden Cross” from the band’s 2005 release, Firewood.

But we’re going to check out the tune “Leva” from Witchcraft’s 2007 LP, The Alchemist. In this song, frontman, Magnus Pelander sings every lick in his Sweedish brogue. What he’s saying doesn’t matter so much as the brute power behind his grave tenor. The usual references of Sabbath and Pentagram qualify this tune as straightforward doom metal. But there is something more here that I can’t put my finger through. Perhaps that’s why it’s so damn good. Thanks for the new tunes, Charlie.

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“Look Rat, it’s like riding a bike. Fall off; you’re right back on. Mess up a date, do it again.” –Mike Damone

So here we go with Episode 2. Man, time flies — seeing as Episode 1 came out just over a year ago. I hope you all enjoy, and thanks for stopping by.

The Story
Title: “Hey Little Rich Boy”
Artist: Sham 69
From: Tell Us The Truth

Title: “We All Fall Down”
Artist: Egghunt
From: Egghunt 7″

Title: “Bottle Caps”
Artist: Ann Beretta
From: Band Played On: Live At Home

Title: “Too Young To Know”
Artist: UFO
From: Phenomenon

Title: “Right Side Of My Mind”
Artist: Angry Samoans
From: Inside My Brain

Title: “Feels Like Drowning”
Artist: Lost Patrol Band
From: Lost Patrol Band

Title: “Neurotic”
Artist: Bouncing Souls
From: The Good the Bad & the Argyle

Title: “Archangel”
Artist: Samhain
From: Initium

Title: “Lonesome Warrior”
Artist: Eric Bachmann
From: To The Races

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Ah, remember college. Those were some good days: play music, chase girls, college radio, Telneting, late night 7-Layer Burritos. Ah college..

I have great memories about the band I played drums in for most of college at Western Michigan University(We were a three piece rock outfit called Fletcher). And I think we were a half decent band that may have even put a smile on 2 or 7 faces. Recently, some songs from our 7” were posted on a website dedicated to uncovering and promoting the Kalamazoo underground rock scene.

Kalamzoo was a cornerstone of the Midwest rock circuit. I went to a Thought Industry basement show when I was still in high school, circa ’91, and overheard some dude say “K-zoo” was going to be the next Seattle. Shit, that long-hair’s pontification in that dingy basement with a belly full of Bush was enough to reject Michigan State University, a far more prestigious university than “Wastern”. My Mom never quite understood my logic “I’m telling you, Ma – A&R dudes like live there.”

Anyway, I love the 7” and am glad it’s available for the world to see. It’s also a personal thrill to have the digital files in my possession, because I’ll be honest, I still haven’t gotten around to transferring my vinyl to .mp3 – probably never will. And these tunes make for great headphone nostalgia while the dog walks me around the park.

It’s a toss-up, but I think my favorite tune on this 1995 release was “You’re a Tramp”. I think my drumming is a bit sloppy (practicing rudiments was never top priority) but it fit the band — precision was never our strong suit. Having fun, jumping around and playing our hearts out – that definitely counted for something, though: “Yeah man, we opened for the Laughing Hyena’s,” says me 9-years ago, trying to get some girl to kiss me at a Sensefield show at the Shelter. This was Fletcher.

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A few weeks back some guy at a party started talking to me because he noticed I was wearing a Dag Nasty T-shirt. I was pretty excited because it’s not often I get the opportunity to talk about the impact melodic hardcore albums like Can I Say made on my life. Turns out, all this guy wanted to do was spurt out a self-congratulatory soliloquy about his “rare” 7” collection. Oh well, I guess it’s better than trying to wing my way through a conversation about NFL statistics. Once in awhile, though – I come in contact with someone that shares a similar agenda: talk about the music we dig because it makes us feel good. The other day I had one of those convo’s with a friend I work with. We were having a serious conversation about the impact of data on instruction when suddenly our focus shifted, and we slipped into an ongoing debate we’ve been having for months about the greatness of the early Afghan Whigs versus their post Congregation material. I lean towards the early days, while my pal feels Dulli’s greatest output started with the release of Gentlemen. Don’t get me wrong – I dig the boozy soul romps found on albums like 1965 and Black Love. And what about when they turn up in the bar scene in “Beautiful Girls” when Rappaport tries to suck face with Uma hot lips Thurman? They were the first band to convince me that dudes with slick looking suits could rock.

But at the end of the day the battle is a no brainer, and I always come back to my early year’s staple, Up In It. Now, these conversations with my pal aren’t so much debates as they are a chance to get dirty in the sandbox, and allow our minds a short water break. In keeping with the spirit of the debate, I think my pal has yet to hear the blast of punk dynamite provided by the Whigs on their early releases. So, here’s one for ya’, pal. Be prepared to discuss tomorrow morning.

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New podcast in the works.

The question is — do I stick with option 1 (the standard formula: play tunes, say “hi” about the bands and what not: “Uh, that was Leftover Crack off their Rock the 40oz LP”.). Or go with option 2: Try and work in a story about an event from my life, all the while connecting the songs to that story. Or how about option 3: base the show on a theme, like freindship or sour relationships.

Maybe there is also a 4th or 5th or 6th option as well.

The truth is, I started a new podcast a few weeks back, and am more than half-way through, but I think I might shit-can it for awhile. The problem with option 2 is that the podcast’s narrator becomes way too self-absorbed with the story, and he loses sight of the show’s purpose — playing rockin songs.

And so where do we go from here?

So, there is a hell of a show(s) coming to Brooklyn next week. The legends of doom, Neurosis, will be making a special appearance at the Brooklyn Masonic Temple in good ole’ Fort Greene. I imagine it’s going to be an intense affair, the kind of night that will vibrate in one’s head for many days to follow. Cheers to the fine promoter who thought long and hard about putting this event together.

Neurosis were one of those bands that crossed over to all sorts of dudes. (I say dudes because I never met too many girls who got off on the heavy turbulance garnered from a Neurosis tune.) So you’d have your anaracho MRR punk talking about the aesthetics of Scott Kelly’s violent licks, while some hessian dude in a Voivod T-Shirt and a thin mustache listened to the sounds off “Souls at Zero” with a glazed smile on his face. All were welcome if they could take the pain. And it was the power of that mucky sludge that kept us coming back for more.

I want to check out a track off the 2001 Relapse release, “A Sun That Never Sets”. A lot of people panned this album when it first came out because it wasn’t as heavy as their earlier work. But after many listens the songs start to unravel in your head, and you come to realize that acts of quiet desperation are far scarier than quick jabs to the throat. Here is a band that can inspire us all to pay attention to the notion that less certainly can rock a lot fuckin harder than more.

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Someone said this in the January ’08 issue of Esquire – “If you watch more than three TV shows a week regularly, you need to be doing more with your life.” I will now provide context.

Here is my top ten list for 2007. The songs listed were not necessairly released during this past year. The only criteria is that I came in contact with the bands, artists, songs etc. during 2007.

1) “Is There a Ghost” — Band of Horses — I first heard this on XM with some friends while we drove to a shake joint in Detroit.

2) “Pirate Love” – Heartbreakers – This song feels like a combination of the Stones (circa Exile) meets the White Stripes. The bass line bridge is worth every quarter.

3) “Simple Man” –Lynard Skynard – What more does one need than a little heartfelt advice from one’s mama backed by multiple layers of anthemic chord changes.

4) “T.V. World” – The Methodones — Everything about this tune is perfect. Listen below and you’ll see why.

5) “In the Ghetto” (Feat. Rick James) Busta Rhymes – My brother-in-law played this for me one night when we were driving back from dinner at the Olive Garden. I asked him to play me something real.

6. “Missed the Boat” – Modest Mouse – At first I thought the newest Modest Mouse release was a mix of artsy carpaccio mixed with a touch of high falutant white pepper. Then I heard this tune on shuffle a few weeks later, and remembered why I will never stop listening to these fine fellas from the state of Washington.

7”I’ll Believe in Anything” – Wolf Parade. “Nobody knows you and nobody gives a damn either way.”

8. “History’s Stranglers” – The Bronx – This tune works really well when you’re waiting for an old lady in her Buick to pull out of a spot you desperately need so you can make it to a movie on time. Turn it up loud.

9. “*Been There All The Time” – Dinosaur Jr. – I was walking to the store to buy some Advil for a headache that wouldn’t go away. I listened to this song and –bam – everything felt all right. *Beyond is the first studio album released by Dinosaur Jr. in ten years, and it was well worth the wait.

10. “Don’t Make Me A Target” – Spoon – If you ever get the urge to live in your own P.T. Anderson film – throw on this tune and start walking.

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A couple weeks ago, I saw Mudhoney perform Superfuzz Bigmuff plus Early Singles in its entirety. It was an experience to put in the books on a rainy Sunday night off the Bowery. “Burn it clean,” howled front man Mark Arm as his eyes penetrated my skull. “Burn it clean.”

The six songs on the Superfuzz EP was released by Sub Pop in 1988, and the singles comp came out in ’90. During the fall of ’90, or maybe it was ’91, Mudhoney came to town to headline St. Andrew’s Hall. I quickly snatched up a ticket and made plans to hit the show with my good pal, B.J. Three or four weeks later, I was on my bed staring up at my Misfits poster blasting “In ‘n Out of Grace” through my crappy Kenwood speakers. It was the evening of the show, and I was readying myself for the experience, “Jesus take me to a higher place!!!”

“What’s going on in here,” squealed my Mom, who hadn’t yet quite come to terms with my undying love for the rock.

“Oh, hi Ma. I’m going to Detroit tonight to hit a show with B.J.” She always felt more comfortable when I hung out with B.J. because he was Jewish too. “Don’t worry, I won’t be out too late.”

“You’re not going to another one of those shows. It’s Yom Kippur tomorrow, and we’re going to your Aunt Mae’s for dinner. So change out of those black jeans and throw on something presentable.”

It was worse then a pistol whip to the head. I put up a fight, tried explaining to her the impact Mudhoney had made on my mind in the past months. “There is so much I need,” I said, quoting from the greatness. “You can’t keep me from what I want to do.” And it went on and on back and fourth. But in the end I made the call to B.J., tears streaming down my face.

“Dude, my Mom says I can’t go because it’s Yom Kippur.”

“Bummer, man. Yeah, I got lucky – we ate early.”

“Click you,” said my phone.

Some 17-years later, and I honestly think I never ever got over missing that show. Superfuzz impacted my nerves in all the right places, and poked holes in the discrepancies I saw, but never knew how to articulate, except through the occasional broken bottle and angst-ridden curse. Hats off to whoever decided it was time to bring back the raw grunge for the masses to absorb one last time; clearly this was a unique album that burnt itself into the consciousness of the underground. Now, I can finally bury the hatchet with my Mom, and move forward knowing I finally got a chance to soak up the all the fuzzy splendor put fourth by four dudes from a band called Mudhoney.

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