Notable Remarks Spoken To Or Near Me By Record Store Clerks
“Yeah, well, you’re either on drugs or fuckin’ crazy if you think Hate Your Friends is the best Lemonheads album.”
“You gotta hear this cover of ‘Strutter’ by the Donnas. It’s really respectful to Kiss’s original vision and the guitarist, she just nails Ace’s solo!”
“That’s so disrespectful, man. Helloween’s not hair metal. Hair metal is, like, Vince Neil, Mötley Crüe.”
“Before Wheels of Fire came out I dreamt that Cream would release a double album with a silver cover. And then they did! Can you believe that?”
“Hey, I know you’re into all that Touch & Go shit. You know, whatever, I just wanna know where to start with all that fucking shit.”
“Mudnohey, huh? How do you think they feel about you buying their record?”
“Bricks Are Heavy? Pfft, you can have my copy. Let me go home and get it.”
“I know you’re only like ten or eleven but you have to learn what the real world is like. I can’t sell you this Van Halen cassette because you have most of the money. I need all of the money.”
“Oh great, that dog snuck in here and shit near the register again.”
“I’m gonna open this Nashville Pussy CD and put it on the shelf uncensored and I’m gonna blame you so I don’t get fired. Because I don’t like you.”
“This kid just stole a Master P CD and it’s like, I don’t mind except that Master P sucks. If you’re gonna steal something, steal something good.”
Unsolicited Mini-Reviews Of LP Record Albums That Have Recently Crossed My Path
DJ Screw – Codeine Fiend
This guy was apparently a big deal in the underground a decade ago. His deal was he slowed rap songs down to simulate the effects of hearing music while totally fucked up on depressants. It’s kind of neat the first time you hear it, but after that you just wonder, “What the hell’s wrong with my tape deck?” Then you remember you don’t even have a tape deck anymore, it’s 2009, and you’re actively listening to Da Brat two or three speeds too slow. Still, outsider music freaks should check out Codeine Fiend (or one of the other 9,000 mix tapes DJ Screw made); I bet if you blasted this stuff on Halloween, you’re whole neighborhood will think the Devil just learned how to rock the mic.
V/A – Weezer – The 8-bit Album
No band from the past two decades is better suited to have their music transformed into a soundtrack for an NES game that never existed. Have fun imagining a bespectacled Mario running away from Goombas and writing the Princess love notes he’ll never deliver to sparse renditions of “El Scorcho” and “In The Garage.” The only thing that kills this album is that sometimes the participants add vocals, which instantly turns 8-bit novelty into frightening Japanese techno pop. You can download the whole thing here. WARNING: putting this on your computer will make you the nerdiest person on your block (unless you actually live next store to a member of Weezer).
The Resonars – That Evil Drone
One-man nostalgia act Matt Rendon continues to defy the 21st Century by churning out retro 60s garage rock so authentic that calling it retro should be a federal crime. Most impressive here is the instrumental “Run Kodiak Run,” a playful acoustic guitar piece I can easily imagine bears in the wild frolicking to. Also, the stormy “Black Breath” demands your attention for all two minutes and thirty-six seconds of its time. Anyone still pissed off that the Who became a sweaty ball rock arena band should dive head first into Matt’s Resonars. Mod comfort has never flowed this effortlessly.
Demolition Hammer – Skull Fracturing Nightmare
The virgin 1988 release from an underrated Bronx thrash band. I found it on this amazing blog. Pretty tight, dense stuff. Nothing Earth-shattering, but great when you want to get your mosh on and you’re sick of the big boys. You wanna know something crazy about Demolition Hammer? Their drummer died from Globefish poisoning in 1996. Guess that means no reunion anytime soon. Bummer.
Nashville Pussy – Let Them Eat Pussy
I can’t believe I waited until 2009 to check out this album. I remember the day it came out eleven years ago like it was yesterday. The two clerks at the record store were arguing about whether or not to remove the wrapper blocking the controversial cover art. The one guy just said, “Fuck it!” and ripped it off. Weren’t we shocked to see two hot chicks gleefully forcing a couple of male sex slaves to munch their hard-rockin’ carpets? Yes, yes we were. Well, perhaps not so much “shocked” as “incredibly aroused and suddenly willing to pledge our complete allegiance to at least the idea of this new band.” ANYWAY, LTEP is a terse shit-kicker of an album, hampered only by Blaine Cartwright’s flat vocals and the somewhat rigid samey-ness of the material. But hey, if you’re just looking to get your wang in shape before pounding some Polk County cooch in the back of your Daddy’s El Camino, crank this shit ’til the break of dawn (preferably in a 7-11 parking lot while guzzling off-brand whiskey from a paper bag).