purging

i’m not going to link directly to jaguaro.org/feature/archives/000007.html because the writing is a little too vitriolic (i.e., read this with discretion if you’re easily offended). but the recommendation is intriguing: 100 albums you should remove from your collection immediately. from the site:

the entries on this list fall roughly into three categories:

“- critically bullet-proof artifacts whose weighty presence on the shelf is complimented perfectly by their perpetual absence from the cd player.

“- albums by new artists that have only their newness and the marketing efforts of music conglomerates to recommend them. alternately, new albums by established artists that are slavishly hailed as the big comeback.

“- nostalgic favorites that maintain their place by tradition and neglect more than actual merit.

i’ve actually already taken jaguaro’s advice in a surprising number of cases, including nirvana’s nevermind, lou reed’s transformer, every morrissey album, and u2’s zooropa (among others, 17 of them in all). i plan to add, as recommended, stereolab’s transient random noise-bursts with announcements: i never ever listen to it.

and he perfectly sums up my feelings about sarah mclachlan with recommendation no. 65:

‘fumbling towards ecstasy / surfacing’ — you get to keep one. which one? flip a coin. it won’t make any difference.

reissued

rhino records is reissuing an expanded-remastered marquee moon, on which television debut right and tight and rewrite the book on new york art punk in 1977. if you’ve never heard it, you can listen here. what was that game about ‘if i had a free 20 dollars’ again? this is a fantastic album; as chris dahlen writes at pitchforkmedia.com:

“the things that make the record so classic, that pump your blood like a breath of clean air, are the guitars. this whole record’s a mash note to them. the contrast between these two essential leads is stunning: richard lloyd chisels notes out hard while verlaine works with a subtle twang and a trace of space-gazing delirium. they play lines that are stately and chiming, rutting and torrential, the riff, the solo, the rare power chord, and most of all, the power note: the second pang on the riff to ‘venus de milo’ lands like a barbell; the opening bars of ‘see no evil’ show one axe rutting the firmament while the other spirals razorwire around it.”

it took me years to understand this album, but isn’t that the way with great albums? the ones that get you going right away never seem to have staying power. it’s the whiny ones, the ones that demand you spend time with them, pay attention to them, the ones that poke you and shout ‘me, me, listen to me’ that turn out to be the keepers.