The records that sorta made a big impact on me, part 4

The records that sorta made a big impact on me, part 4

March 12, 2009, 2:10 am
Filed under: cold blooded old times, mp3s, music

The show must go on. Read Parts One, Two, and Three.

75 Belle & Sebastian — If You’re Feeling Sinister (1996) CD
This came out during my junior year of college and I fell madly in love with it. I listened to it while walking across campus and felt so unique in comparison to my surroundings. Here I was attending a rural college of mostly rural, small town folks. I felt so out of sorts — not because my heritage was different from my peers, but rather my expectations had broadened so widely. I didn’t know many people who liked the same things as me. At the time, I had a long-distance relationship with a girl who I did share such things with, and Sinister was one of the cultural tidbits that glued our relationship together. That’s one of the many reasons this album rarely left my Walkman. This is one of my ten favorite albums of all time, and I doubt I’ll ever tire of listening to it.

“Like Dylan in the Movies”

74 The Cure — Mixed Up (1990) cassette
My introduction to The Cure did not come via the heralded precursor to this album, Disintegration, but rather this collection of remixes and re-recordings. I can not disassociate Mixed Up from my high school years. It reminds me of my weirdo high school girl friends (two words) and is truly one of the first exotic (and erotic!) albums I listened to. Some of my favorite bass lines exist on this album (I’m looking at you, “Lovesong” and “Fascination Street” and “Hot Hot Hot!!!”).

“Lovesong”

73 Madonna — True Blue (1986) cassette
Like a Virgin came out in ’84 and made sure Madonna was all over the radio, but it was True Blue that I fell for. Outside of the title track, the singles from this record were all mostly weird and moody to my 10-year-old ears. Even “Open Your Heart” had this sense of longing to it that I found entirely compelling. “Live to Tell” and “La Isla Bonita” were my favorites, though. The former creeped me out and will forever be linked in my memory to this kid from my school who was killed when he was struck by a truck that pinned him against a tree. Every time I went to church we drove past that tree, and on at least one occasion this song was playing on the radio at that time. So “Live to Tell” took on a different meaning than Madonna intended. The latter song also has a tie to church, but in a more positive way. Sarah, my best friend from church, and I memorized the lyrics to “La Isla Bonita,” and I recall going somewhere for a church trip — probably a ski trip but I can’t be certain — and us singing that song the entire way there and back. Man, Mad Libs and Madonna, what a combo.

“Live to Tell”

72 Prince — Dirty Mind (1980) LP
This was one of Prince’s two earlier records that I picked up for “free” (the other being Controversy) while in high school. I was already quite familiar with Prince due to the success of 1999 and Purple Rain, but it wasn’t until my high school years that I began to dig deeper into his catalog. One of my high school girlfriends, Cindy, loved Prince, too. But she didn’t like his older stuff that much. I dug this album a lot, mostly because it was perverse and, in general, more funky. Prince, along with the Ohio Players, Sly, the Chili Peppers, and P-Funk, really got me into funk music in a big way. And, this record includes the original of one of my favorite Cyndi Lauper tunes, “When You Were Mine.”

“Head”

71 Neutral Milk Hotel — On Avery Island (1996) CD

I loved In the Aeroplane and still think it’s a brilliant record, but On Avery Island served as my introduction to Jeff Mangum and really did blow me away on first listen. So while Aeroplane is considered his critical masterpiece — and rightly so — this record paved the way for me and hence holds a bit more significance. “A Baby for Pree” and it’s companion, “Where You’ll Find Me Now,” are also among the very best songs he’s ever written, in my book. Oddly enough, this was the free CD I selected to accompany my subscription to Magnet. Thanks, Magnet!

“Where You’ll Find Me Now”

70 Smog — Knock Knock (1999) CD
Picking my favorite Smog record is a tough proposition, but this is the one that I listened to the most, save for possibly the Kicking A Couple Around EP. Bill Callahan really put it all together on this one, and it highlights his songwriting diversity quite well. This was my favorite new record for about six months.

“Held”

69 Sonic Youth — Goo (1990) cassette
I’m pretty sure I purchased Goo the same time I got Dirty in 1992, because I remember listening to the two albums in tandem for some time. At the time, I favored Goo for some reason. Then, a couple years later, Jon (as Boddha) covered “Mildred Pierce” at the Madison, which was rad as fuck! Anyway, Pump Up the Volume provided my informal introduction to Sonic Youth, and I distinctly remember upon seeing that film and purchasing the soundtrack that I really wanted to love Sonic Youth, because I knew they were a hot-shit band, but I just couldn’t get into them. Goo changed that. It certainly helped that both Goo and Dirty had some poppy songs, because my young mind didn’t quite know what to do with all the noise.

“My Friend Goo”

68 Michael Hurley — Armchair Boogie (1970) mp3
Michael Hurley is an oddball folkie from the Greenwich Village 1960s scene and sometime collaborator with the Holy Modal Rounders. Recently, Cat Power has covered a couple of his songs. No one (that I’ve heard) has a style and sound quite like Hurley, as evidenced by the stellar “Sweedeedee,” one of my favorite songs of all time. But Hurley was also fiddlin’ and singing songs about “light green fellows” and werewolves, so he can be a bit out there. Regardless, there’s a certain resolute, tangible quality to Hurley’s songwriting that makes it incredibly powerful, yet still fun. You can’t find this on CD right now, but it was very recently reissued on vinyl.

“Sweedeedee”

67 Dungen — Ta Det Lugnt (2004) CD
In hindsight, I find it perplexing that this record blew up the way it did. I suppose there are other examples of bands playing psychedelic music and singing in foreign (or made up) languages who became critical darlings overnight. Sigor Rós comes to mind. But their music is lulling and largely agreeable, whereas Dungen is a full-fledged psych rock band. And that’s why this record flattened me. It’s easily one of my five favorite albums recorded since the turn of the century. A true masterpiece, methinks.

“Festival”

66 The Silver Apples — Contact (1969) CD
I first heard The Silver Apples about a decade ago and I definitely wasn’t ready for them, yet. I hated them, actually. It took me a long time to give them another chance, but I finally caved last year and picked up both of their records. Man, what had I been depriving myself of? Listening to this record made me feel all gooey and upside down, like the way I felt the first time I heard Can. It’s so fun to stumble into music like this once you get to the point where your musical universe is starting to feel sort of stale, which happens with greater frequency the older I get.

“Ruby”

65 Codeine — Barely Real EP (1992) CD
When I listened to Codeine, all seemed right in my world. Their debut full-length, Frigid Stars, could just as easily have been given the nod here, but it was Barely Real that I first heard. “Realize” and the title track are sledgehammers of relational distress. When Stephen Immerwahr sings, “I feel like string. I feel like nothing,” I melt into a puddle of EMO.

“Barely Real”

64 Neil Young — On the Beach (1974) CD
When this was finally re-released a few years ago, it instantly became my new favorite Neil Young record. On the Beach combines the best of all aspects of Young’s 1970s catalog into one record: the funkier rockin’ pop, the mellow ballad, the rawer electric blues, the acoustic old-timey country, and Neil’s typical social dialogues and rants. And there’s not a bummer in the bunch.

“Walk On”

63 Yabby U — King Tubby’s Prophecy of Dub (1995) CD
Yabby U — or Yabby You, depending on, well, I don’t really know what — was a centerpiece of Jamaican reggae/dub singers, which you really wouldn’t know by listening to this record. The great dub producer King Tubby strips all of the vocal tracks from the original recordings, leaving just the skeletal remains of Yabby’s mid-’70s songs, which Tubby then fucks with in typical dub fashion. This record is phenomenal and is solely responsible for my fascination with dub music. The fact that I bought such an obscure compilation at Best Buy is hilarious.

“Version Dub”

62 Versus — Dead Leaves (1995) LP
Allmusic says, “Energetic but erratic, it’s by no means the best introduction to the group.” Huh, I’d have to disagree. This collection of singles and outtakes is fucking spectacular. Good ole Art introduced me to these guys and I was instantly drawn to the bombast, the odd lyrics, and the dynamic between Fontaine Toups and Richard Baluyut. Songs like “Forest Fire” and “Insomnia” still sound vital to this day. And the pop tunes — “Merry Go Round,” “Tin Foil Star,” really the whole of Side B — are so enjoyable. Versus was a criminally overlooked band. You can have your Superchunk; I’ll take my Versus.

“Forest Fire”

61 U2 — Achtung Baby (1991) cassette
They don’t make rock records like this anymore. And by they, I don’t just mean U2.

“Zoo Station”

60 Television — Marquee Moon (1977) CD
They don’t make rock records like this anymore. And by they, I don’t just mean Richard Lloyd and Tom Verlaine. It’s one thing to say that I had never heard guitars played like this before. That’s true, but doesn’t tell the whole story. Verlaine’s exceptional lyrics and totally wild singing voice can’t be neglected. Put two and two together and you end up with a record that baffles small-town Midwestern minds like mine. I was 19 when I first heard this record, and it instantly became a classic for me. It sounded like the most spectacular collision of notes I had ever heard.

“Venus”

59 Iron & Wine — The Creek Drank the Cradle (2002) CD
I came to this record about a year late. None of my friends at the time were spinning it and for some reason I had suppressed any interest in finding out what the hype was all about. I don’t remember exactly who eventually convinced me to give it a shot, but I’d like to buy that person a beer. Sam Beam is not the most original voice, but he is a masterful songwriter and lyricist. This record tugged at my shirt sleeve for months after I bought it. I was just falling in love with a new girl, M, and starting a new career, and so my life was in an exciting transitional phase. But with that transition, for various reasons, came a general anxiousness and unease, as if I was about to solve my biggest puzzle to date. The melancholy, contemplative mood on this album resonated with me for that reason and so these songs will always remind me of M.

“Southern Anthem”

58 INXS — Kick (1987) cassette
I was only 11 when this came out, and I recall riding my bike to K-Mart to purchase “Need You Tonight” on seven inch. It was one of the few seven inches I purchased before they were phased out in favor of cassingles, then CD singles. I purchased the entire album shortly after buying that seven inch and I listened to it tirelessly. I remember hauling my boombox outside and listening to Kick while I tossed a tennis ball onto the roof of our three-story house and waited for it to drop back down into my baseball glove. I also remember slow-dancing to “Never Tear Us Apart” with Carla, one of my earliest girlfriends, in sixth grade. We made a good couple, briefly.

“Need You Tonight/Mediate”

57 Bob Dylan — Highway 61 Revisited (1965) LP
Everyone has a Bob Dylan moment, right? Mine came during my junior year of high school, when this record magically came into my possession. How did it feel, you ask, to be on my own, with no direction home, a complete unknown, like a rolling stone? It felt fucking fabulous. Every few years I get obsessed with a different song on this album, possibly as my general tastes shift and expand. Lately, it’s been “From a Buick 6,” which is just a badass song.

“From a Buick 6”

56 The Blackouts — Living in Blue (2005) CD
After having spent several years following and chronicling the C-U scene, a band that I really loved finally released a record that I could stand firmly behind. I gave The Blackouts their first taste of national press when I interviewed them for Skyscraper. While I doubt that press did them a whole lot of good in the long run, it felt good to watch them grow up, sonically speaking. These guys are by far my favorite local band of old and this record is a fine testament to their talent and the promise many of us once saw in them. Put these guys in a bigger pond with more media attention and I think they would’ve hopped on a hype machine and worked it to their advantage. The reason this record makes the list is simple: those of us who have enjoyed being a part of a local scene know that following a scene, growing along with it in an organic sense, can really be a life-affirming experience. I have no problem admitting that I lived vicariously through many of the bands I covered and watched on stage. And it was damn fun.

“No Tomorrow”

55 Los Dug Dug’s — Los Dug Dug’s (1971) CD
No band better represents my quest to collect garage rock from around the world than Los Dug Dug’s, who in 1971 broke barriers by releasing an English-language rock record in Mexico. This was one of the earlier full lengths I picked up as I began seriously searching out global garage’edelia™ several years ago, and it’s a spectacular record. For every so-so obscure dud I’ve purchased, a record like this makes up for five of ’em. The Dug Dug’s convinced me to continue collecting — and not just because we share a namesake.

“Eclipse”

54 Nirvana — Nevermind (1991) cassette
So of course this record dented my skull when I was in high school. I gave up an entire letter grade in band to see Nirvana perform live 0n the In Utero tour. (Long story, but it involves skipping a day’s worth of classes without telling my parents. And they found out.) I don’t often find myself wanting to listen to this record. I suppose that is because I listened to it so often when I was a teenager that its notes, rhythms, and lyrics have permanently settled into my bloodstream. However …

“Breed”

53 Nirvana — Bleach (1989) cassette
… I still listen to Bleach with regularity. I purchased it from the Coconut’s in Peoria shortly before Nevermind came out. I remember gravitating toward Bleach moreso than Nevermind for a good stretch of time, in part because I wanted to seem cooler than all the Nirvana poseurs, and in part because I loved the rawness of the record. Maybe the songs weren’t as good as on Nevermind, but the entire record had the same sound as the first ten seconds of “Breed.” To me, that lack of slickness and that sound — a sludgy, mechanical, metallic noise  — was pure vitriol. Bleach was punk as fuck.

“Negative Creep”

52 The Ramones — Road to Ruin (1978) LP
The Ramones released four records in two years — quite a kickstart to their career. This was the last of those four records and certainly the least appreciated. That’s probably deservedly so, but while “Blitzkrieg Bop” and “Now I Wanna Sniff Some Glue” was The Ramones to many, “I Wanna Be Sedated” was The Ramones to me circa my freshman year of high school. That’s when my younger, older brother passed his tiny punk rock collection on to me. (I also got Pleasant Dreams!) So I fell in love with The Ramones trying to be Rock Stars instead of The Ramones trying to be Punk Rock Stars. Whatever.

“Don’t Come Close”

51 The Fall — Palace of Swords Reversed (1987) CD
I first heard The Fall after I had already begun listening to a shitload of indie rock bands who were obviously paying tribute to Mark E. Smith and Co. Has there ever been a better song than “Totally Wired” to flail your arms about madly while spinning yourself into a nauseous, crumpled mess? I think not. Anyway, a couple years later I got my first look at Mark E. Smith thanks to some VHS tape at Rentertainment and I felt like I had definitely found someone disgusting enough to be worshipped.

“Totally Wired”

Next up, Nos. 50–26

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