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Archive for the ‘The Dead Milkmen’ Category

Roberto Bolaño–Monsieur Pain (1999) [translated 2010]

Posted in bolanobolano.com, Chris Andrews, Communists, Death, Foreign Books, Gangsters, Meta, Roberto Bolaño, The Dead Milkmen on April 27, 2010| Leave a Comment »

SOUNDTRACK: THE DEAD MILKMEN-Stoney’s Extra Stout (Pig) (1995).

Of course, I can’t forget the Milkmen’s final release!  But, in fact, I had forgotten about it, so much so that when I played it again, I was totally surprised to realize that I knew and liked a number of these songs quite a bit.

This disc was their return to Restless records, and it almost feels like their detour to Hollywood never happened.  Back is the dominace of Rodney Anonymous’ songs andthe more chaortic, frenetic guitar work of thier earlier discs.

It opens with “Peter Bazooka” a dark meandering song that features the one consistent thread on this disc: most of Rodney’s verses are spoken rather than sung.  Which is fine, except the songs somehow feel more noveltyish when they’re delivered this way.  So even if a song like the second track “Train I Ride” is just as silly as any DM song, because it’s sung it feels more like a proper song than a novelty.  “The Girl with the Strong Arm” is even more frenetic than “Joe Bazooka” and it’s another rant (although with a more singable chorus).

But a song like “Helicopter Interiors” sounds like classic DM: simple clever guitar line, raucous guitar, and it’s under 2 minutes long.  And, while the back half of the disc is less exciting than the front, the rocking “Chaos Theory” is good fun: “Study hard and you’ll have a future, oh yeah when the hell was that ever true?”

But Joe Jack Talcum’s songs are not absent from the disc.  He appears first on “I’m Flying Away” a slow, reggae tinged track that feels too anemic to have ever been a hit.  “The Man Who Rides the Bus” is a rocking, more catchy track although again it’s missing anything even resembling a hit.

A couple songs do overstay their welcome: “Blues Song,” a parody of the blues (yawn) is over 4 minutes long (yes, the solo section is pretty funny).  Although even a lesser song like “When I Get to Heaven” is enjoyable enough (the return of odd vocal effects is also welcome).  The only real failure is the horn-fueled pseudo funk of “Crystalline.”  At this point I’m not sure if it’s wise for the DM to bust so far out of their comfort zone.

Joe Jack sings the final three songs.  “Khrissy” is a trebly love song, “Like to be Alone” is a piano ballad that doesn’t really go anywhere, but the final song “Big Deal” is a another negative song package as a humorous uplift anthem.  It concludes the DM’s output on a high note.

I’m not sure if the band should have done more after this.  And of course, there is much sadness that bassist Dave Blood killed himself a few years ago.  But I understand they still tour and they keep their website active.  DM are a wonderful staple from my college days, and I thank them.

[READ: April 16, 2010] Monsieur Pain

It is not lost on me that while I was reading a book called Monsieur Pain, I was stricken with an abscess in my cheek.  It swelled as if there was a softball in my mouth and it hurt like a mother.  And, since this happened while I was on vacation, I had the delight of going to a Virginia Urgent Care center carrying this book around with me (and the medical services were excellent, thank you all).

Of course, the Pain in the title is not a man who inflicts pain or anything, it’s just his name.  I was wondering if, since he is French, if the Pain is to be translated as “bread.”  That is never addressed.

This story exemplifies the fascinating twists and turns that Bolaño puts in his books (this one was one of his first).  In the introductory note to the book, he states that he wrote this story in 1982 and then submitted it to two different fiction contests under different titles.  He won both contests.  (Ha!).  The other fascnating thing about this story is that most of the people are real.  And while yes, that is a conceit he uses in a lot of his stories, in this one the real people are the main people: César Vallejo was a real poet (and did have the hiccups) his wife was real, Pierre Pain was indeed a mesmerist, and of course Madame Curie is real, too.

The story itself was fascinating and sometimes difficult.  (I had to re-read the scene in the movie theater a few times to get the total picture).   It is written from the point of view of Monseuir Pain.  He is contacted by Madame Reynaud (a woman he is sort of in love with, especially now that she is widow) who urgently requests that he go to see someone “profesionally.”  The someone turns out to be the husband of her friend Mrs.Vallejo (who turns out to be the poet César Vallejo–although plotwise that is not important).  She says he is dying from the hiccups. (more…)

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Diane Williams–“Ten Stories” (Harper’s, May 2010)

Posted in Diane Williams, Flash Fiction, Harper's, Holidays, Short Story, Sonic, South, Sweet Tea, The Dead Milkmen, Waffle House on April 18, 2010| Leave a Comment »

SOUNDTRACK: THE WAFFLE HOUSE Jukebox, Williamsburg, Va (2010).

My family doesn’t normal eat in chain restaurants.  We’d much rather buy local.  So, even if TGIF is good, we don’t know that.  And we pretty much never eat anywhere that has a drive through.  It’s a silly principle, but we have so few principles, that we can usually stick to it.

The big exception comes when we travel!  Especially to the south.  Because there is nothing as exciting as the Waffle House or the Sonic logo.  (I want to do Hardee’s but the Dead Milkmen have spoilt it for me).  And, mmm, sweet tea!

Anyhow, we were enjoying the awesome Pecan Waffles at a Waffle House in Virginia and the quiet jukebox suddenly shouted Turn It Up!  And proceeded to play some kind of honky tonk song.  We were startled.  But it did add some ambience to the place.

I’ve no idea who the singer was or what song it was, and I’m not about to track it down.  But what started off as a pretty obvious twangy honky tonking song ended up being quiet enjoyable.  The guitars were pretty rocking, there was a wild solo at the end, and then the song was over.

It wasn’t quite as enjoyable as the biscuits and gravy, but it was fine nonetheless.  Although the sweet tea was a little too sweet.

[READ: April 17, 2010] “Ten Stories”

Since I’ve been on vacation, I thought I’d come back with a simple, easy story.  This turned out to be ten stories, all of about 3 pages.  And, even though Williams recently won the Pushcart Prize (for a different story), I really got nothing from this collection at all. (more…)

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Roberto Bolaño–Antwerp (2002) [translated 2010]

Posted in bolanobolano.com, Books about writers, cuppa joe, Death, Foreign Books, Huh?, Infinite Zombies, Natasha Wimmer, Oddities, Poetry, Poets, Punks, Roberto Bolaño, Sex, Short Books, The Dead Milkmen, Translation, Unreliable narrator, Violence on April 15, 2010| 1 Comment »

SOUNDTRACK: THE DEAD MILKMEN-Not Richard But Dick (1993).

After the mature Milkmen of Soul Rotation, they followed up with this mini disc (at 28 minutes it’s probably an EP (even the title suggests that maybe it’s an EP) but it’s not considered one).

This album is a bit more twisted that Soul Rotation, although it still offers some of this newer more mature music.

The two most twisted songs are the largely spoken-word “I Dream of Jesus.”  It’s a rant in which the singer (who now goes by the name Arr. Trad.) talks about his mother keeping Jesus in a bottle, and the ramifications that that can have.  (It also features a sung chorus of “Jesus Loves Me”).  “Let’s Get the Baby High” has vocals that are processed so who knows who is singing.  But the title is pretty much spot on for the content of the song.

And you can pretty guess who is singing “The Infant of Prague Customized My Van.”

Butterfly Fairweather once again sings the bulk of the songs.  And most of them are fast rockers. The first song, “Leggo My Ego” could have been a hit (with the cool keboard opening) and “Little Volcano” probably should have been a  hit, it’s very catchy.

He’s also on vocals for some of those mellow songs (that remind me so much of Dromedary Records’ Cuppa Joe.  In fact, “Not Crazy” could have been done by Cuppa Joe.

The final song is a wonderfully hilarious Lou Reed impersonation with simple guitar chords, and a tin whistle!  It’s a very mellow spoken word piece about “The Woman Who was Also a Mongoose”.

Not Richard But Dick is no longer in print (Hollywood Records really gave DM the shaft).  I’m not sure if it’s worth tracking down at this point, but there’s some interesting and fun stuff on this disc.

[READ: April 7, 2010] Antwerp

Continuing with Roberto Bolaño’s fascinating melange of styles, Antwerp (technically the first “novel” he wrote (circa 1980 although he didn’t have it published until 2002) is a series of numbered sections.  I’ve heard it described as a prose poem, and, given his (at the time) recent switch from poetry to prose, that makes sense.

I had read an excerpt from this some time ago, and I found it difficult to read as excerpts.  Unsurprisingly, I also found the entire thing a challenge as well.  And that’s because, wow, there is so much crammed into these 79 pages, and there are so many different points of view and so many unclear events (written in great detail, but trying to piece those events together…phew) that even after reading it twice, I’m still not entirely sure what’s going on. (more…)

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Roberto Bolaño–Last Evenings on Earth (1997/2001 trans. 2006)

Posted in bolanobolano.com, Books about writers, Chris Andrews, Communists, Culture Shock, Death, Dreams, Drinking, Foreign Books, Funny (ha ha), Funny (strange), Ghosts, History, Humiliation, Infinite Zombies, LGBTQ, Marriage Trouble, Mystery, Nature, Nazis, Neurotics, Oddities, Poets, Political Humor, Religion, Roberto Bolaño, Romance, Sex, Short Story, Suicide, The Dead Milkmen, Threats, Translation, Travel, Violence, Yuck! on April 14, 2010| 2 Comments »

SOUNDTRACK: THE DEAD MILKMEN-Soul Rotation (1992).

And lo, the Milkmen grow up.

This disc is not funny (well maybe, a little funny); mostly it is  “thoughtful” (and sometimes absurd).  But what is most striking about it is how mature (mellow) it is.  For this is the first album by The Dead Milkmen on Hollywood Records (a subsidiary of Disney).  This combination raises far more questions than is worth looking at.  But suffice it to say that even though this disc is the Milkmen, its a very different Milkmen.

The most obvious difference is that the majority (10 out of 13) of the songs are sung by the artist formerly known as Joe Jack Talcum, now known as Butterfly Fairweather (perhaps Hollywood knew that “”Punk Rock Girl” was their big hit?).  Past DM records were mostly sung by Rodney Anonymous (who goes by H.P. Lovecraft on this disc).  And his were the heavier, weirder, funnier, absurdist tracks, for the most part.  So, when the first four songs here are sung by Butterfly, you know something different is afoot.  Oh, there’s horns on the disc as well!

The disc feels like a pretty typical alt-rock band from the 90s.  But it’s missing the sass, it’s missing the vulgarity.  Basically, it’s kind of dull.

That’s not to say there aren’t good songs on here, because there are.  “If I Had a Gun” is a great screamy Butterfly song, and “Wonderfully Colored Plastic War Toys” is full of Lovecraft’s snark. As is “The Conspiracy Song” a lengthy rant of absurdity.

The rest of the songs drift between mellow and alt-rock rockers.  And it works as a product of the alt rock 90s.  It’s just not much of a DM album.

[READ: April 8, 2010] Last Evenings on Earth

I have been reading Bolaño’s short stories for a while now.  And so I have read a couple of the stories in this collection already. The stories in this collection were taken from his two Spanish collections of short stories: Llamadas telefônicas (1997) and Putas aseinas (2001).  And I have looked at about a dozen sources but I can’t find which stories came from which original collection (I like  to know these hings).  I can’t even find a table of contents for the original books.  Anyone want to help out?

I enjoyed these stories more than I expected to.  I have read some of his stories in The New Yorker and elsewhere, and I’ve been okay with them, but this collection blew me away.  Whether it’s being immersed in his writings or just having them all in one place, I was thrilled by this book.

There so many delightful little things that he does in his stories that I find charming or funny or something.  Like that his narrators are usually two or three people removed from the details.  Or if they’re not, they act like its been so long they doesn’t need to get all the details right:  “U insults and challenges him, hits the table (or maybe the wall) with his fist” (“Days of 1978”).

I also get a kick out of all the stories with the protagonist named B.  Which seems a not so subtle way of saying he’s the narrator (even though I ‘m sure these things never happened to him quite like it says (despite all the biographical consistencies with his own life).

The opening story “Sensini” has the narrator working as a night watchman at a campground (much like Enric in The Skating Rink…a bit of biography perhaps?).  A number of his stories are simply biographies of interesting characters (something he went to extremes with in Nazi Litearture in the Americas): “Henri Simon LePrince” a failed writer in Post-WWII France.  “Enrique Martin” a delightfully twisted story about jealousy (aren’t they all, though?) and acting impulsively and foolishly (aren’t they all though?).  This one featured  a riddle that I’m not even sure we’re meant to get:

3860+429777-469993?+51179-588904+966-39146+498207853

which the narrator thinks is a word puzzle. (more…)

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Roberto Bolaño–By Night in Chile (2000) [translated 2003]

Posted in bolanobolano.com, Books about writers, Chris Andrews, Communists, Culture Shock, Death, Demons, Foreign Books, History, Infinite Zombies, Monty Python's Flying Circus, Pablo Neruda, Political Humor, Punks, Religion, Roberto Bolaño, Short Books, Smarty Pants, The Dead Milkmen, Translation, Translators on April 13, 2010| Leave a Comment »

SOUNDTRACK: THE DEAD MILKMEN-Metaphysical Graffiti (1990).

You know that it would be untrue, you know that I would be a liar if I were to say to you I didn’t set your house on fire.

You don’t have to be a philosopher to appreciate the joke of this album title (actually that may hurt the joke a little). But the “runes” that accompany the disc are quite amusing.

I haven’t listened to this disc in ages, and it turns out that I remembered about half of these songs really well.  And that’s because half of the songs are really good.  And the other half are, well, okay.

It opens with a children’s chorus which morphs into one of their heaviest rocking (although fairly uninspired) songs, “Beige Sunshine.”  The disc comes into focus with track two: “Do the Brown Nose” a funny song that outlines exactly how to do the titular dance (although at nearly 5 minutes, it’s a bit long).

The single (!) “Methodist Coloring Book”: features Joe Jack Talcum singing (clearly his success with “Punk Rock Girl” had an impact on that decision).  But on this track, he sings with a dark and distorted voice (which pales to Rodney’s dark voice) and is less interesting than his whiny normal singing voice. It’s a good song (and amusing) although as a single it’s less than successful.

I’ve always enjoyed the premise of “I Tripped Over the Ottoman” although I’m not sure it’s a very good song.  While “If You Love Somebody Set them on Fire” is funny and catchy (and astonishingly irritating with the screechier higher register notes in the chorus).

“In Praise of Sha Na Na” makes the valid point that they played at Woodstock and aren’t dead.

Joe Jack’s other songs are the very slow ballad “Dollar Signs in Her Eyes” and the rollicking (and more distorted singing) of “I Hate You, I Love You.”  But the ending tracks “Now Everybody’s Me” and “Little Man in My Head” (which is musically quite a good reggae track) just don’t have a lot of oomph.

However, the final track, “Anderson Walkmen, Buttholes and Howl!” (which parodies a short-lived but much talked about prog rock band) is delightfully twisted.

The problem with the disc overall is the four or five “improv pieces”  They all feature the same bassline, and by the end of the disc you start to cringe when you hear it (especially since the last one is 6 minutes long).  Each one is a mildly funny rant (along the lines of “Stuart” from Beelzebubba, but less focused and less interesting).  Some of them are certainly funny (Earl’s maggots and the “chills me to this day” refrain is pretty good), but they feel like comedy skits that you only want to hear once.

Erlenmeyer Flask!

[READ: April 3, 2010] By Night in Chile

In continuing with my Bolaño obsession, I moved onto yet another of his short books (144 pages).  Interestingly, By Night in Chile is written in a complete different style than the other two titles I’ve recently read (Bolaño is nothing if not diverse).

This is a stream of consciousness reminiscence told by Father Sebastián Urrutia Lacroix.  The entire book is one paragraph (actually that’s not true, the final line of the book is its own paragraph).

As the book opens, Father Urrutia is dying.  But worse than that, he has been disparaged by a wizened youth.  And his entire memory/rant is a response to the accusations of this (unseen by us) wizened youth.

And Father Urrutia uses this opportunity to describe the highlights of his life.  When he was very young he decided to join the priesthood against his family’s objections. There’s a running joke about people calling him “father,” I especially enjoyed the scene where his mother calls him father. (more…)

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Roberto Bolaño–2666 [Week 12] The Part About Archimboldi (1 of 4) (2004)

Posted in Big Books, bolanobolano.com, Books about writers, Communists, Death, Foreign Books, History, Infinite Zombies, Military, Natasha Wimmer, Nazis, Punks, Racism, Religion, Roberto Bolaño, Russia, Sex, Smarty Pants, Suicide, The Dead Milkmen, Translation, Violence, Virginity (Loss of), War on April 12, 2010| Leave a Comment »

SOUNDTRACK: THE DEAD MILKMEN-Beelzebubba (1988).

Why the hell do you think they call it a burrow owl anyway?

Beelzebubba is pretty close to the pinnacle of The Dead Milkmen’s career.  Of the 17 songs, there’s only one or two that fall flat.  But there are so many that rise to greatness.  The wholly un-PC James Brown-mocking song “RC’s Mom” which is pretty much all about beating your wife is in hugely questionable taste, but the funk is quite funky.

The brilliant “Stuart” is the culmination of all of the white trash mocking/spoken word nonsense songs.  And then there’s the outstanding single “Punk Rock Girl.”  It is simultaneously catchy as all hell and yet whiny and kind of off-key.  It’s really magnificent and was suitably lauded.

The strange thing to me is that the actual released “single” was for “Smokin’ Banana Peels” (an EP with that title was released with an absurd number of dance remixes).

“Sri Lanka Sex Hotel” is an angry rant that references The Killer Inside Me and talks about having sex with everything.  It’s pretty bizarre, but is musically fantastic.

True, the back half of the disc suffers somewhat (“Howard Beware” and “Ringo Buys a Rifle” are just okay), but the disc ends with the sublimely vulgar “Life is Shit” a gospel-tinged song that matches Monty Python’s “Always Look on the Bright Side of Life” for faux uplift.

Future DM discs would feature some good songs, but the band pretty much peaked with this one.  I’m so bored I’m drinking bleach.

[READ: Week of April 5, 2010]  2666 [pg 637-701]

What a difference a week makes.  The style and writing of Part 5 is markedly different from Part 4.  It is far more laid back and focuses primarily on one individual, Hans Reiter (who we know from Part One is Archimboldi).

The Part opens with information about his parents: his father had one leg (he lost the other in WW1) and his mother was blind in one eye.

Hans’ father, after losing his leg, was in the hospital, expounding on the greatness of smoking.  (He even gives a smoke to a man wrapped head to toe in bandages–and smoke pours out from all the cracks).  When he left the hospital, he walked home–for three weeks.  And when he arrived back home he sought the one-eyed girl in the village and asked for her hand in marriage.

Hans Reiter was born in 1920. He proved to be unreasonably tall: (At 3 he was taller than all the 5 year olds etc).  And he was most interested in the seabed.  There is much information from his childhood of his love of the sea (when his mother bathed him, he would slip under the water until rescued).  At six he stole a book, Animals and Plants of the European Coastal Region, which he more or less memorized and was the only book he read.  And then he began diving, investigating the shoreline.

His father evidently hates everyone and thinks all nations are full of swine (except the Prussians).

Hans also enjoyed walking and he would often walk to the surrounding towns: The Village of Red Men (where they sold peat), The Village of Blue Women , The Town of the Fat (animals and butcher shops); or in the other direction, he went to Egg Village or Pig Village.  Or even further along was the Town of Chattering Girls (who went to parties and dances).

He almost drowned twice.  The first time he was initially mistaken for seaweed as he was floating in the water.  (After he had discovered laminaria digitata).  He also began to draw seaweed in his book.  (The seaweed connection is pretty thorough as he was described as looking like seaweed when he was born).  The tourist who saved him was named Vogel.  He believed in the general goodness of humanity, but he felt that he was a bad person for initially mistaking Hans for seaweed.  Vogel also talked endlessly about the virtues of masturbation (citing Kant as an example). (more…)

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Roberto Bolaño–Nazi Literature in the Americas (1996) [translated 2008]

Posted in 19th Century, bolanobolano.com, Books about writers, Chris Andrews, Death, Foreign Books, Funny (ha ha), Funny (strange), Infinite Zombies, Magicians, Nazis, Poets, Political Humor, Punks, Research, Roberto Bolaño, Short Books, The Dead Milkmen, Translation, Violence, War on April 11, 2010| Leave a Comment »

SOUNDTRACK: THE DEAD MILKMEN-Bucky Fellini (1987).

C’mon, I’m the walrus, damnit.

Bucky Fellini ups the ante from Eat Your Paisley in that the band sounds really accomplished at this point.  The songs are still silly, but they’re not quite as jokey (except for the hit single, but more on that in a second). There’s even lap steel guitar, violin and backing vocals!

Dave Blood’s bass is really something of a force at this point, propelling songs with interesting riffs.  Rodney  “Cosloy” Anonymous sounds great.  And, Joe Jack Talcum gets quite a number of songs to sing: the mellow (and very twisted) “Watching Scotty Die” and the more rocking “Rocketship.”

“Big Time Operator” is a supremely silly song based on a very simple blues riff.  It features the first (utterly wretched) DM guitar solo (look out Stevie Ray Vaughn!) and even showcases a “humming” solo from Rodney (just me!).  While  on the other end of the spectrum, “Surfin’ Cow” is mostly instrumental which is catchy and full of surprising intricacy.

“Instant Club Hit (You’ll Dance to Anything)” was indeed a club hit.  It’s snarky and silly (complete with a drum machine) and it name-checks some of the most prominent college radio bands of the time.  You could easily have built a good collection of British college rock from their list of who you’ll dance to. (instead of giving your money to a decent American artist like himself).

The Dead Milkmen keep getting better and better.  They’re still funny, but they’ve proven themselves to be far more than a novelty act.  Blow it out your hairdoo cause you work at Hardees.

[READ: April 1, 2010] Nazi Literature in America

I’ve read a lot of books that are, shall I say, weird.  But this one is definitely the most unusual when I think:  what would possess a person to write it?

Nazi Literature in the Americas is written as an encyclopedia of Nazis writers who have lived in North, Central and South America.  Except that all of the writers are fake.  So, essentially Bolaño has invented 30 characters, and created rich, fully detailed biographies about all of them.

Some of them are very short (a couple of pages) while a few are over ten pages long, with details of books/poems published, critical reception and even untimely deaths.   The biographies are grouped according to categories (The Mendiluce Clan; Itinerant Heroes or the Fragility of Mirrors, Forerunners and Figures of the Anti-Enlightenment; Poètes Maudis; Wandering Women of Letters; Two Germans at the End of the earth; Speculative and Science Fiction; Magicians, Mercenaries and Miserable Creatures; The Many Masks of Max Mirebalais; North American Poets; The Aryan Brotherhood; The Fabulous Schiaffino Boys; The Infamous Ramírez Hoffman).

And although they are not chronological, Luz Mendiluce (whose bio I read separately) features prominently as a constant “reference point” and creator of one of the prominent Nazi publishing houses.  She had created a publishing empire where Nazi works were spread throughout the continent, and it seems that everyone had a title published by her company Fourth Reich.

What’s so weird about the book is that the people are fake, everything about them is fake (although they are placed firmly within history) and yet their stories are still compelling.  Bolaño has employed a mildly sympathetic tone to these people.  Not sympathizing with the Nazi aspect, but sympathizing with them as humans.

There were one or two who I didn’t really enjoy.  And I admit that I enjoyed the North Americans more; since I know more about North than South America, the facts surrounding these authors resonated more.  But I thoroughly enjoyed most of these biographies.

Of course, just when you think the book is all the same, the final biography changes everything.  In this one, Bolaño himself appears as the writer of the book.  He writes about Ramírez Hoffman in the first person, mentioning himself by name and getting personally involved in the story of this final, skywriting author.  It completely subverts the work before it and leaves you more confused than when you started (although a lot happier for having read it).

The final section of the book is an Epilogue foe Monsters.  It provides a brief biography for all of the secondary characters mentioned in the main body.  It also details the publishing houses and magazines, and finally lists  a bibliography of all books published.  The amount of detail that Bolaño created here is staggering.

But aside from all the Nazism, the book can be quite funny.  Like the conclusion for Luz Mendiluce Thompson, which ends with her driving a car into a gas station.  The final line: “The explosion was considerable.”

It’s tempting to say that this “novel” is not representative of Bolaño’s writing, but I think that’s false.  From what I’ve read so far, Bolaño doesn’t conform to any style in his books: each book is designed differently.  But like this one, they all deal with South America, with violence, with politics and are filled with humor.  So, yes, I guess this is pretty representative.

Oh, and the translation by Chris Andrews is, once again, fantastic.

For ease of searching I include: Bolano

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Collins Gibson–The Trinity [a screenplay, final draft] (2010)

Posted in Adventure, Big Books, Death, Dystopia, End of the World, Military, Red Dwarf, Sex, Technology, The Beautiful South, The Dead Milkmen, The Future, Violence, WMMR 93.3 FM--Philadelphia, PA, WXPN 88.5 FM--Philadelphia, PA, WYSP 94 FM--Philadelphia, PA on April 10, 2010| 2 Comments »

SOUNDTRACK: Philadelphia Radio Stations (circa 1990 and 2010)

There’s a Dead Milkmen song called “The Big Sleazy” in which the chorus is

“I hate MMR I hate YSP/You know that classic rock/Does not interest me.”

I’ve always been amused by the song, especially when I travel to Philly and hear these stations.  That song is from 1990, so 20 years later I’m not sure what the band would think of their new playlists.

But one thing I never really noticed before is the middle verse which is about one of my favorite Philly stations WXPN.  The verse is:

I hate what they’ve done to XPN
Those folk Nazis ruined my favorite station
I hate what they’ve done to XPN
If you hear it now it’s just a pale imitation.

Now, I have no idea what XPN was like before, but, yea, I can see that he folk Nazis are in charge.  Of course, I rather like that.  However, XPN also plays a bunch of artists who are broader than the folk label, so I wonder if they have changed even more since 1990.

History is fascinating, innit?

[READ: April 3, 2010] Trinity

Collins Gibson is a patron at our library.  He has been working on this book for a few years now.  The first time I looked at a bit of it, it was a novel.  I hadn’t seen him for a while and now he has brought the book back as a screenplay.

I didn’t read enough of the original novel to know whether this works better as a novel or a screenplay, but given the very visual nature of the story, it seems like screenplay fits the story better. And so, since Collins is a good guy, I’m going to do my part to get the word out about the story. (more…)

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Roberto Bolaño–The Skating Rink (1993) [translated 2009]

Posted in bolanobolano.com, Chris Andrews, Death, Figure Skating, Hüsker Dü, Infinite Zombies, Marriage Trouble, Poets, Punks, Roberto Bolaño, Short Books, The Dead Milkmen, Translation, Translators, Violence on April 9, 2010| Leave a Comment »

SOUNDTRACK: THE DEAD MILKMEN-Eat Your Paisley (1986).

Who has angered the volcano gods?

My friend Paula is the only person I know who truly appreciated the Dead Milkmen.  And we spent many a car trip singing/shouting lyrics like “B.F. Skinner has eaten my dinner” (“Where the Tarantula Lives”).  While this may not be great literature or even terribly clever, there’s not too many songs (punk or otherwise) who name check B.F. Skinner.  So there.

Of course, “Beach Party Vietnam” is not quite as clever, although

– Hey Frankie, aren’t you gonna give me your class ring?
– Oh I’m afraid I can’t do that, Annette
– Why not?
– ‘Cause I don’t have any arms!

Never fails to entertain.

This second Milkmen disc jumps light years above the first.  The band sounds more accomplished, the recording is fuller and the lyrics are more bizarre and often funnier.  Rodney Anonymous Melloncamp does wondrous things with his vocal stylings (he’s still very bratty, but he does different “accents” this time).

It even features an interesting instrumental “KKSuck2” which, while under 2 minutes, holds up quite well as a solid song. And there’s some fun being poked at Hüsker Dü on “The Thing That Only Eats Hippies” (“Now it’s got  a sweet tooth for long hair so Bob and Greg and Grant you should beware.”)

Joe Jack Talcum is featured on vocals on “I Hear Your Name.” (a rather tender ballad) and on prominent background vocals on the wonderfully chaotic and super fun to sing along to “Two Feet Off the Ground.”  And “Moron” has the delicious opening verse: “Hanging out on the commode listening to Depeche Mode.”

Only six songs are under two minutes here, and that’s a good thing: their songs seems more fully realized (with actual parts!).  “Earwig” has three  different sections, even.  And while two songs are around 5 minutes long, the bulk are just under 3, the perfect length for a punk pop song (well, not quite pop, but at least pop-skewering.)

This is definitely the album to pick up for early DM fun.  ‘Scuse me while I puke and die (ha ha ha ha).

[READ: March 31, 2010] The Skating Rink

I simply can’t keep away from Bolaño these days.  I don’t even love 2666 and yet I’m very happily tracking down Bolaño’s other books, starting with this one.  (Which I guess technically is his third written novel if this bibliography is true–and why wouldn’t it be?).

This story is written in a fascinating way:  There are three narrators.  Each gets a chapter (from 1 to 10 pages) to tell the next part of the story.  The narrators are: Remo Morán, Gaspar Hereda and Enric Rosquelles.

As the story opens we learn pretty quickly that a murder has taken place.  But we don’t learn any details at all.  We also learn that the titular skating rink is going to play an enormous part in the story.  The story is set in Spain in the city of Z (which is quite close to the cities of X and Y).

In the first story line, we learn that Gaspar has gotten a job from Remo.  He knew Remo a long time ago, and when he returned to town, although he didn’t seek Remo out, it was quite fortuitous that they were acquainted.  And this job is as a night watchman at a local vacation campground.  He hangs out with El Carajillo and learns the ins and outs of the camp.  Eventually he becomes infatuated with two women, an opera singer and her younger charge.  He shares many conversations with the younger woman, and she seems (distantly) fond of him. (more…)

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Junot Díaz–“The Pura Principle” (New Yorker, March 22, 2010)

Posted in Boredom, Cancer as plot device, Consumerism, Corporate skewering, Drugs, Junot Díaz, Language, Marriage Trouble, New Yorker, Punks, Set in New Jersey!, Short Story, Smarty Pants, The Dead Milkmen, Violence, Word usage on April 8, 2010| Leave a Comment »

SOUNDTRACK: THE DEAD MILKMEN-Big Lizard in My Backyard (1985).

My friend Alison said the other day that she had “Bitchin’ Camaro” stuck in her head.  And soon thereafter, so did I.  So Philadelphia’s Dead Milkmen are a bratty punk band.  They skewer all kinds of things: pop culture, racists,  right wing pigeons, junkies and, quite possibly, music itself.

This first record showcases quite a breadth of song styles.  Although they stay comfortably within the realm of two-minute punk, they plays “blues,” “jazz,” and even “surf.”  Interestingly, their guitars are quite treble-filled which is a bit unusual for a punk band (typically pretty bass heavy). And yet a song like “Swordfish” (“I believe in swordfish!”) has a pretty wild and creative bass line running through it.

But I think the Milkmen are most well-known for their lyrics.  So Big Lizard starts in right away with lyrics that could easily offend the wrong target: ‘Cause we hate blacks and we hate Jews/And we hate punks but we love the F.U.s.”  Of course, the chorus reveals the truth: This is a tiny town and we don’t want you hanging round.”

“V.F.W.” stands for veterans of a fucked up world.  “Beach Song” opens up like a beach song until you get the bratty, screamed lyrics: I don’t wanna be on the beach NO FUN!.”  Of course, “Violence Rules” tackles a real issue: “violence rules, guns are cool and we’ve got guns in our school.”  And there’s the twisted, “Takin’ Retards to the Zoo.”

We also get one of my favorite catchy lyrics (from “Nutrition”): “I’ve got nowhere to go/Just hang out on the street/My folks say I’ve got no ambition/ At least I give a shit/About the stuff I eat/Yeah! I care about nutrition.”

Only 6 of the 21 songs are over 2 minutes, so musical styles definitely come fast.  Rodney Anonymous’ vocals are snotty and funny (even when the lyrics aren’t especially funny, the delivery is).  We only get one song with Joe JAck Talcum singing (he’s the whiny guy).  It’s so hard to tell if his delivery is serious at all, and yet I find it very endearing (and he’ll get much more prominence on later discs).  So, this disc is fairly simple, but it works very well for what it is: in your fast, bratty music, that is quite often very funny.  It’s not perfect, but it’s pretty darn good.

And it features “Bitchin’ Camaro.”  I’m going to go to a hardcore show and see F.O.D.

[READ: March 23, 2010] “The Pura Principle”

I have been intending to read Díaz’ The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao for quite some time.  I just haven’t yet.  So I was pleased to get a chance to read one of his short stories to get a feel for his writing.

One thing I had been told about Oscar Wao was that it mixes English, Spanish, Spanglish and a kind of ghetto slang which makes the book shall we say, more difficult to read if you’re a suburban gringo like myself.  But hey it’s set in New Jersey, so at least I know the towns he’s talking about!

This story is like a short story version of that summary of the book.  The writing is indeed in English, Spanish and Spanglish (and when the second sentence–the crux of the story– is “No way of wrapping it pretty or pretending otherwise: Rada estaba jodido” you know this is not your typical English short story.  I still don’t have an exact translation for that sentence (and it took a while to realize that Rafa was a person’s name) but I got the gist, and I was delighted by how much I followed the story. (more…)

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