Snobbin: Beautiful Trash in the Pop Culture Gutter

Film Twenty Six: Zebrahead (1992). Anthony Drazan's first film documents the relationship between two teenagers: a Jewish DJ Zack (Michael Rappaport) and a black girl Nikki (N'Bushe Wright) at a high school in Detroit. Somewhat of a Romeo and Juliet story, the film quickly establishes friction, stemming from how others view their relationship. Solid performances and an interesting soundtrack do not help the film's success. Zebrahead is an enjoyable film that could be better if it tied up the loose plotlines and actually developed the relationship between Zack and Nikki instead of attempting to comment on inner-city violence, infidelity, and other social issues.

Film Twenty Three: When Pigs Fly (1993). Quirky is the word of the day in my reviews and apparently as all-too-common of a description of the films in this challenge. Sara Driver's indie ghost story fits that word to a tee. Minor key characters, particularly a fun turn by Marianne Faithfull as one of the ghosts, mesh with the supernatural as a jazz musician inherits a haunted chair that leads him on a quest to help the ghosts and perhaps assuage his loneliness. Like Baraboo , one of the first films I watched, despite being a slow character study, When Pigs Fly contains oodles of charm that makes up for the pacing.

Before Mark Oliver Everett started the Eels, he released two albums under his moniker E on Polydor records: 1992's  A Man Called E and 1993's  Broken Toy Shop . Both are long out of print, and this is a shame because they both reach the level of excellence of his later work in the Eels.  Both albums are chock full of E's wry sense of humor and penchant for self-deprecation. They also look ahead to his love of peculiar instrumentation and experimentation with programming. One quick takeaway is that E loves glockenspiel, melodica, and accordion. He plays many of the instruments on these records himself, building an atmosphere of longing and regret amidst a foundation of catchy melodies. However, the records do feel more traditional and warmer than most of the Eels catalog.  A Man Called E quickly prepares the listener for E's worldview with a pair of songs that privilege his outsider status ("Hello Cruel World," "Fitting in with the Misfits") while ack...

Califone's Stitches fulfills their role as the ultimate purveyors of slow, experimental indie-pop songs that flirt with elements of incidental music and soundtrack collage. They seamlessly blend the elements of postrock and 70s singer/songwriter conventions, while developing a soundtrack that approximates the weirdest movie-fan dream.     From the first track, “Movie Music Kills a Kiss,” they navigate this landscape, creating music that pushes this aesthetic into overdrive. Tim Rutili sings “Karen Black forgets the words / Like Memphis when the rapture breaks,” painting a seamless merging of story and song in which their acoustic harmonics and dissonant noises create a perfect backdrop for the gentle lyrics. The title track begins with a smattering of electronics before new wave vocals creep in. The sweet intermingling of   voice and the backup vocals seems disembodied from the music until he sings “the Chinese opera shows the stitches.” Califone's lyrics resemble...

I've been a Clem Snide fan for a long time, enamored with Eef Barzelay's easy, literate lyrics and the band's indie country shuffle. They have released a number of solid albums over the years, and have now turned to putting them out digitally, recently releasing several fan chosen collections of covers. For my money the best albums are Soft Spot and End of Love , although I know that The Ghost of Fashion and Your Favorite Music are strong contenders. Eef's solo records present other sides of his songwriting that have been making their way into the later band output. The first is contemplative, while the second rocks like nothing else he has done. For this edition of Track This, I wanted to review a track from his solo albums but had trouble picking one, so I chose two. The musically upbeat, yet lyrically down, "Could Be Worse" from Lose Big and the Rocket Science soundtrack cut, "I Love the Unknown." Both recognize Barzelay's ability to...

The Mountain Goats have long been critical darlings, but, more recently, they have found a wider fan base. Always consisting of John Darnielle, and in the last number of years, Peter Hughes and Jon Wurster (Also of Superchunk, Bob Mould's backing band, and the Dead Milkman song, Stuart), they put on a rocking show and turn out album after album of literary indie rock. Since 2002, particularly with the release of Tallahassee and the start of their tenure at 4AD , their output has been far more polished and now consists of more instrumentation. Darnielle's early recordings were recorded on his Panasonic RX-FT500 boombox and are very raw and immediate,  often just nasally vocals and acoustic guitar. Once in awhile keyboards or backing vocals pop up. Albums like Sweden and Coroner's Gambit primarily rely on Darnielle's impassioned delivery and clever lyrics. On All Hail West Texas and Tallahassee , the sixth and seventh albums, Darnielle started exploring album leng...

The other day when I was writing the "Track This" for Jawbox's "Cooling Card," something jogged my memory about music magazines I had read in my formative years, particularly those published while I was still in High School. Many, if not most, of them are gone now. They gave way to blogs and online publications. These include zines like Flipside , which covered mainstream and underground bands -- they also had some of my favorite columnists of all time, Punk Planet , which ventured further into Indie rock as it progressed, and MRR , which is still going strong. The magazines that I read often included Alternative Press and Magnet , as well as Ray Gun Publishing's huH which turned me on to a ton of great music because it included a cd with each issue that served as a sampler for what had been released that month, divided by genre. While other magazines did this, huH undoubtedly was more inclusive in the types of bands these cds covered. In fact, these col...

When I was in High School, I was addicted to the Eels. Their combination of maudlin lyrics and E's world weary vocals really touched me. I fell in even deeper when Mark Oliver Everett slowed back down and started making records that were more similar to his first solo records, A Man Called E and Broken Toy Shop . But there was something about that first album; it rocked, while speaking particularly to my teenage frame of mind. I wanted to hide in my room all the time, cranking music that mirrored my angst. When I feel this way now, I just put Beautiful Freak on and hide for a few hours, even though my head is in a much better place. The album asks for, but also acts as shelter against the arrows and slings of the outside world. Its loud moments are always tempered by slower sections, where E sings his heart out in a primal call to arms. In "Not Ready Yet," E sings, "If I leave my room, don't you tell me to lighten up / Maybe sometime sooner or later / But I ...

"Cooling Card" contains all the tricks that made Jawbox such an indie powerhouse -- interesting chord changes, J. Robbin's sputtering vocals, chiming guitars, and ever-cryptic lyrics. The lyrics are always filled with imagery, often obtuse or near impenetrable. Robbins begins the song with the lovely and poetic, "Fear as a friend I wish I never kissed / Fading hand to mouth as catalyst / Technicolor static sender / Second guess my love for danger / Bold-face it with a hand of 10 by 10" over chunky guitar chords, and the song only spirals from there. Much of the fun of listening to Jawbox lies in trying to decipher the lyrics and marvelling at the band's near pop song melodies. At the time it seemed strange that they signed to a major label, Atlantic, before any of their fiercely independent Dischord label mates, yet listening now, with the hindsight of years, it is easy to see how they were snatched up in the post-Nirvana blitzkrieg. Intricate songwriting...

I have long been a fan of the Flaming Lips and their often silly, always provocative take on the psychedelic. Lately though, I have been disappointed in how gimmicky their work has become. I first discovered the Lips in about 1995 right as their video for "She Don't Use Jelly" was getting constant rotation from MTV as a buzz clip. I was enamored by the silliness, creativity, and over-the-top lyrics of the band. Plus, they were just plain fun. They seemed to truly enjoy what they were doing, and they made great albums as they seemingly followed their own muse, record sales be damned. I purchased Transmissions from the Satellite Heart, and was not disappointed. The record had everything that my sixteen year old self was looking for in an album. It was well-produced, but not over the top. The songs were catchy with great melodies and strange lyrics.They busted out of my crappy boom box speakers with a definite purpose. The remastered vinyl reissue only amplifies the stay...

Let's Wrestle - Nursing Home  Pure fun is the perfect way to describe Let's Wrestle's new album, "Nursing Home." At first glance, the faults are apparent. Perhaps, it is a little too silly, a little too sloppy, and a little too schlocky brimming over with silliness and inside jokes, the kind that all the nerds in the room can relate to. Yet it is these qualities that endearingly make it a great album. Like their fellow travelers on the jokey, but smart indie highway, Boat, Let's Wrestle knows how to have fun with a clever turn of phrase. An earlier song, "Music is My Girlfriend" took a tired cliche and made it seem new again. In a nutshell, this technique is the genius of the band. While "Nursing Home" never reaches the same heights, it is a fine attempt. The band is a little tighter, the jokes are more coherent, and the production values a hair better. While not attempting anything as virtuosic as the new Boat album, Let's Wrestl...

Since I last blogged, lots of ridiculous stuff has gone down. I'm tired of my life and its direction. This blog is an evident attempt to pull myself up by my boot straps and really get down to some serious writing. Mostly it will be about life, adventures, and, most important of all, records. Yes, I am creating just another music blog. Hopefully, I can add something to this old and tired genre. My goals are many, but the primary one is to write about one "lost scattershot, genre-crossing classic" a week, more or less. Not all of them will be genre-crossing. Hell, not all of them will be classics, at least in a traditional sense. But they will be records, that if not genre-bending or mind-blowing, have added something to the musical landscape that was not there before. (Don't they all). I hope to pick my favorites that skirt the borders of all those indie genres (psych, punk, hardcore, post-punk, post-hardcore, etc.) Sometimes I might even dedicate a blog to an album ...