Hello my little chickadees, and welcome to “Somebody Likes It.” Each week, we gather to talk about an album that, while very important to a lot of people, none of us really know that well. This doesn’t mean that said record is a cult classic, nay dear reader, as our intent is quite contrary to that line of thinking.
Back in October, the offices where we record were broken into and all of our equipment for producing Somebody Likes It was stolen. Three episodes that had been recorded but not completed were temporarily lost. This is the first of these episodes, recorded on September 12, 2018, where we discuss Teenage Fanclub's Grand Prix. Enjoy.
I wanted this album to be worse than it was. I begrudgingly admit there are some solid Rock And Roll songs on it. Coming from someone that HATES mainstream capital R "Rock and Roll" from 19-whenever-through-2000-yeah-still-sucks, that is a solid head-nod.
Fats Waller, son of a minister and a musician, kidnapped star of Al Capone's birthday party, and Satchmo / Pops / Louis Armstrong, perhaps the most bedrock figure in the history of American jazz, may have only played together a handful of times during Waller's lifetime before he passed in 1943. But there's little question the stride pianist and buoyant trumpeter were tuned in to the same human channel.
As monikers go, Starcrawler might be more a more literal band name than you think: this act, punctuated by art school kids and fronted by the daughter of one of LA's premier rock shutterbugs, slinks and shrieks through their initial release. It seems they were destined for stardom, well, since they were crawling.
If you've been waiting patiently, all your waking life, to immerse yourself in Aussie-bred hard rock featuring a grown-ass-man wearing a Catholic schoolboy uniform with an astonishing level of longevity, well, this is your week.
Working on this podcast as I have for a couple of years, I am often taken aback at albums that completely flew under my radar and yet still had enough buzz around them as to create a massive following.
We all know the country music songwriter's recipe: start with a stretch of hardscrabble backstory, mix in some bad luck with the ladies, stir the bottom of the bottle around, maybe sprinkle in a stint in the pokey for good measure. Rinse. Repeat.
It's a safe to say that if you have been pushing out music for the past 51 years, you've probably got a little something for everyone. It's also a pretty good chance that not everything in your catalog is going to elicit the same enthusiasm from all audiences.
We figured out somewhere along the way that our Holiday Mixtape show wasn't an annual tradition, actually. Mostly because we skipped doing it last year altogether. In retrospect, it's probably better this way:
Wolf Alice...Wolf Alice? It's one of those band names like 10,000 Maniacs that reminds you that band names are less about musical content and more about whats funny when you are having beers after band practice...
By now, we're familiar with the Blackalicious mojo: Gift of Gab throwing obsessive, complicated rhymes over the steady propulsive backbeat dropped by one Chief Xcel, a formula that's earned the pair accolades.
Let's be honest: Hug Of Thunder, for all of its good intentions, kind of sounds like something made by Hasbro: perhaps a giant, fluffy, crime-fighting machine—the likes of which, for all we know, could actually be one of the members of Broken Social Scene.
Whatever you think of Cracker -- they've been the subject of chart busting platitudes and some indie derision alike -- it's hard to understate the importance of David Lowery's contribution to popular music.
Pioneer of "trucker country," Jerry Reed, turns out, falls in my sweet spot. The man was rapping (albeit with a country twang) before that was a thing, could finger-pick his way out of a wet burlap sack, and was pretty damn funny while doing so.
Ryan shows up carrying a paper bag from which he subsequently removed a loaf of Wonder Bread and a bottle of Cream Soda. And I get it. That's how a lot of people feel when they think about the Everly Brothers. Malt shops and shit. American Graffiti.
Few bands can claim to have at least in some part founded a genre (in this case, alt-country, a.k.a. "y'all-ternative"), but in this instance it's apt. I've heard so many bands with lineage from this it's hard to quantify.
What a … tragedy. I'm not talking about when they took Surge soda off the market, or the final season of the A-Team, or even how all the eagles died because of all the DDT. No, I am referring to Billie Holiday's life. Essentially birth to death it was non-stop sadness.
We've been spending lots of time in the 70s, it seems, almost to the point of pricing shag carpeting. Oddly, Thin Lizzy's Jailbreak, their undisputed US breakthrough record and the peak of their notoriety, takes me back...to 2009.
Hi. Are you ready to be confused? Yes? Good, because I sure am. On this week's Somebody Likes It, we cover The Yardbirds' 1966 LP "Roger the Engineer." Also known as "Over Under Sideways Down." Oh, and also known as "The Yardbirds."
If you peer into the festival hero shot of Michael D’Addario leaping through the roof of The Lemon Twigs' SXSW showcase, you'll note the giant X on his hand: despite the fawning praise, D'Addario, brother Brian and company might be primed to break big this year (they won SXSW's Grulke Prize for Best New Act) -- but they're still not old enough to drink.
At this point, it can be difficult to separate the legend of Joy Division from an honest account of either of their (intentional) releases, but here is what we know: on the eve of their first American tour with The Buzzcocks, frontman Ian Curtis hung himself in his kitchen. Technically, that's where Joy Division ends.
It’s probably best that we’re not eighteen forever. Evidence to that effect: the simple mixtape doesn’t quite cut it for us anymore. For this show, we each picked a track from the 70s, 80s, 90s and 2000s to get to know a little bit better, with curious results.
I'm not a sadist. Really. Just because every so often I bring out something like "Slippery When Wet" or "Open Up and Say Ahhhh!" that doesn't mean I enjoy torturing the other show hosts, it just means I enjoy a lively discussion…
Once you get past the intrigue of her backstory (PS Eliot drummer with her now Waxahatchee-fronting sister Katie, collaborator with her ex in the apostrophe sporting band Swearin'), Allison Crutchfield -- freshly minted solo artist -- weaves a tangled-by-way-of-intriguing tale on her first full length LP, 'Tourist In This Town.'
You could spend all day making mix-tapes of Abba or Cardigans songs, but instead let me propose this. You should maybe consider listening to this episode of Somebody Likes It wherein we discuss the album "Passive Agressive" by Swedish band Radio Dept.
Somewhere, embedded in the occasionally cracked warble of Evan Stephens Hall (which sounds like the name of a room they might play), Montclair, NJ's Pinegrove caught stride with 2016's Cardinal release.
Prolific singer-songwriter Jason Molina released 19 albums, more than a dozen EPs, and many singles between 1997 and his death in 2013. This week, we give a listen to the 7th and final release under the moniker Songs: Ohia; Magnolia Electric Company.
It would seem that I couldn’t rest until we’d covered the other of the mighty triumvirate of proto-punk bands (see also: Iggy and the Stooges, The New York Dolls), and thus unearthed this 1969 classic-to-many.
You wouldn’t call them a Gang, exactly (as two constitutes a pair), and hard to argue that they were the brightest stars in their own right, at least compared to some of their contemporaries, but if they were anything, Gang Starr were hotly anticipated by those in the know.
Welcome to another riveting installment of Somebody Likes It. Wherein our heroes brave the beginnings of another endless Texas summer heat wave to bring you beautiful musings on the 2009 inaugural release from London’s Fanfarlo, Reservoir.
This is what happens when your studio is in the house you inhabit with your bandmates, you’re bitter (or maybe just tired) about record labels and smarmy A&R guys, and you notice the onset of what has to be middle age, or at least the realization that for all your effort, maybe this thing that you’ve loved all of these years just doesn’t love you back.
Well, we gone and done it. Got in bed with ole Kenny G. and did us a jazzy record. Sounds like a bunch of fucking Mr. Rogers Going To The Land Of MakeBelieve-ass bullshit if you ask me. Ryan was able to give it his highest approval rating “I didn’t hate it”…you’ll have in to see how the rest of us felt about it.
Human frailty isn’t exactly a novel conceit, nor are we surprised by youthful angst, but then again, those sentiments aren’t always delivered in authentic ways, by burgeoning and sincere anti-ingenues.
Welp, I kept hearing about this up-start band called the Rolling Stones and I figured since we over here at Somebody Likes It Central Command are nothing if not full of lots of emotions of pity for the “little guy”.
As cliched as it sounds, Sadie Dupuis might actually be some sort of tour de force: the chief creative element behind the ascending Speedy Ortiz (which, best I can tell, is neither speedy nor boasts an Ortiz), Dupuis recently knocked out an MFA in poetry, which she wields to hone razor-sharp lyrics on Speedy tracks.
When Ryan suggested we listen to Clarence Carter’s 1986 ode to sexy time Strokin’ I couldn’t wait! Not only had we never devoted an entire show to just one song, but this song in particular is chockablock with subtlely and context!
Listen closely (or not that closely if that’s how you prefer to listen) to the beginning of this episode and I clearly state that I expect everyone to stick to a discussion of Workingman’s Dead and to try and stay away from those all too iconic Grateful Dead live show images.
Remember that shitty song Everything Zen by Bush? Awful awful song. Well this album isn’t that. It’s like the opposite of Bush. Zen Arcade (the seminal 1984 record by Hüsker Dü) landed in our laps this week, and let’s just say it definitely wasn’t what we expected it to be.
This week we listen to the album Sylvan Esso by the band “Sylvan Esso”…well, not exactly a band, but it is two people making music, so not exactly a solo act. I guess I could have said “duo”, but somehow that just doesn’t feel right.
Somewhere around the time dinosaurs walked the earth and Prince Charles started wearing Lady Diana’s clothes, I spent a summer working in radio. Those were odd days — or nights rather — plugging in commercials in the middle of the night to avoid the radio tax shows we were running (aka ‘ratings juggernaut’), and I used to take chances, mostly to keep myself awake beyond the darkness.
If you are sitting at a bar after recording a podcast, and you are trying to explain to someone what your podcast is about, Television quickly becomes a “who’s on first”. It’s really hard to tell someone what you are doing a podcast about when you say Television and you immediately have to say “the band” Television…which is weird cause nobody EVER says “television” when referencing a television, they say “T.V…"
There are a few musical artists that nobody hates. Willie Nelson, Bob Marley, Van Morrison. Marvin Gaye. Jimi Hendrix. Janis Joplin. Billie Holiday. Even if you don’t want to listen to them, you still kind of love them. Even if it’s a begrudging love, you still love them. Admit it.
Fine. Maybe it was my fault this once. Whatever fault that might be…maybe this time I should just own up to it. You win, Chris Cox. We listened to Doves The Last Broadcast this week, and not Iggy and The Stooges Raw Power…you win this time. But you have to admit that I sure do have a tin ear for dialogue.
I never found the 3 Stooges very funny, but a few days ago I was up late and caught a few episodes on AMC and they aren’t half bad..wait, what are you whispering to me over the tubes that make up the internet? —rustling of papers—
Boy is my face red. Different Stooges I guess? I’m being told I’m not supposed to write about the Moe, Larry, Curley shit, but a band that we listened to? Get it together Bartell.
I feel like I want to…NEED TO…say something about how I felt about this album…but Chris Cox has told me that when I am doing these write-ups to keep it in my pants…so I won’t say anything about this record…I might have told you that it is the best god-damned thing I’ve heard in years…that it marries Josh Tillman’s incredible gift for melodies, crazy ass lyrics, and brilliantly over the top production in a way that somehow is even better than his 2012 album “Fear, Fun”. I might have said that listening to it makes me want to run outside, climb on my roof, and yell at the world that the world (at least my neighbors that are probably calling the cops on me already) is seriously losing the heck out if they (the world) haven’t heard this album…but I won’t do that.
ASK…and ye shall receive! We finally got around to answering the question, “So, what’s the chance you look up from your collective 4 navels for half a second, and listen to a record that a member of the unwashed masses thinks might be an interesting listen”?
Remember the first time you asked yourself “What the fuck is a Wonderwall”? Cause you heard that song by Oasis, and had no idea what the hell Liam Gallagher was yelling about? At one time Wonderwall was a cultural touchstone pretty much on par with the Kennedy Assassination, and the Challenger Explosion, but I feel like we as a country have pretty much forgotten that. And that’s shameful. Shame on us.
I very clearly remember the first time I heard Doo-Wop (That Thing), the single from Lauren Hill’s break-out solo record from 1999. I was sitting in a car in horrible Portland Oregon rush hour traffic with my room-mate Mary, and after the song ended we looked at each other, nodding in wordless acknowledgement of how great the song we just heard was. I remember thinking that it sounded like the future of R&B, but as my life was in transition at that time, I never really followed up on exploring that.
This week we cover a wide variety of topics, like the Brothers Reid, the confluence between bands we can’t seem to separate in our minds, and the stilted, occasionally simplistic takes shared in reviews of records that are, in retrospect, the foundations for entire movements or scenes, not — hey! — unlike this week’s record, The Jesus And Mary Chain offering PsychoCandy.
This week I picked Styx’s 1983 back-masked classic Kilroy Was Here as my torture device, err, album to listen to. You all remember Killroy Was Here right? It spawned the huge hit Mr. Roboto a song that has aged as well as a yogurt cup left out in the sun. I highly recommend everyone take a listen.
Instead of the way we usually do things, in which we all rotate picking the 3 segments, Mark would take over the show and pick the album, the video in A Few Minutes With and the song for A Current Affair. It was so much fun to just turn it over to him, and be surprised with his ideas. So for your listening pleasure, here is Producer Mark Hijacks the Show…The Who Sell Out is how we start things off.
It’s been a year since we started doing this damn thing, and Ryan even brought in a bottle of bubbly to commemorate the occasion. So in order to celebrate our first 365 days on ONEOFUS.NET we decided to do a supersized mixtape show for you guys. A mixtape show is pretty much the same as a regular show, only instead of just discussing one album, we all pick videos to surprise each other with, and alternate until no man is left alive. Or something like that.
This week it’s my pick, Pavement’s Brighten the Corners, proving that I’m extra lazy as I just picked another record off of Matador’s mid-90’s roster. It was fun to compare Pavement and Yo La Tengo! Well, not exactly “compare” as much as not even compare them at all.
Kevin keeps getting ideas. This week, he suggested that in honor of The Moontower Comedy Festival, an event here in Austin that draws comedians from all over, we listen to (then discuss) another comedy album.
This week we crack the 50’s with Frank Sinatra’s ode to lost love In the Wee Small Hours. As I suspected going in, it was way too easy to get caught up in the myth of Frank Sinatra, and it took a lot of concentration to stay on task and discuss the actual album.
This week, we spend some time getting to know chaos. Both in the body of The Yeah Yeah Yeahs Fever to Tell, and in Mark’s garage. Both an existential and recorded. But damn, sometimes I think you need to unravel a little bit so you can feel alive!
I got a text from Ryan a few days before I had listened to All The Right Reasons by Canadian powerhouse Nickleback. He informed me he was currently listening to “All The Right Reasons” by Nickleback, and it “wasn’t as bad” as he had expected it to be. So, going in, I was expecting something not as bad as I had feared. Well, let me tell you, I now consider Ryan to be a dirty liar and/or a masochistic sociopath.
Well, SXSW came and went, and all of were still of (relatively) sound mind and body, so we decided to congregate in Mark’s garage and do the show. This week we were joined by our good friend Marcus Rice and we graciously allowed him to choose this week’s album, Heaven or Las Vegas, The Cocteau Twins 1990 effort. A fine time was had by all and much spirited discussion ensued.
It occurred to me a little while back that all the rap albums we’ve talked about were all released before 1990. I thought maybe we should step up our game here, so I picked one that came out a few months ago Tetsuo and Youth by Lupe Fiasco.
The history of the world is full of brave heroes. Men and women that took on things that no one else would consider touching with a pole of any length. Well, I think you can add Kevin, Ryan, and Myself to that list. Who else would have had the huevos grande (that’s big balls for those monolinguals) to take on a critical discussion of Bob Dylan’s “Blood on the Tracks”?
This week at the show there’s a bit of a wrench thrown into the works. Namely, Chris (me, who’s writing this week’s text), one of your heroic leaders at OneOfUs.net. I’m a big fan of what these guys do at “Somebody Likes It“ and had been talking with Shane about coming on the show to talk an album up for some time now. And that some time…is now.
I realize that generally speaking the idea has been for the guys to listen to an album they weren’t overwhelmingly familiar with (if at all) that’s otherwise well known. I broke all the rules and brought in one of my favorite records, showing my age, the unexpected 1990 pop masterpiece by Sonic Youth, “Goo“.
For our album this week, Kevin picked “The Modern Lovers” 1976 Eponymous album. All I had known about The Modern Lovers prior to this listen was that Jonathan Richman was the main dude, and all I knew about Jonathan Richman prior to this listen was he was in that movie where Ben Stiller got his dick stuck in his zipper. But I’m sure glad I got the chance to listen to it.
I picked the record this week, and it’s “The Kinks are The Village Green Preservation Society” by…wait for it…The Kinks (wouldn’t it have been wonderful if I dropped in C and C Music Factory right there?). I love the British Invasion, I think the Beatles were the most confounding and amazing band ever, most of my all time favorite bands and records hail from The British Isles…but somehow the Kinks had mostly fallen off of my radar. And that’s not for lack of people nudging me toward them (looking at you Darin Murphy). Long story short, I finally understood all of the comparisons to Blur- Parklife I’ve heard over the years.
I want to start this out with a warning. We had some new developments in the garage this week that both unleashed Kevin from his production role, and encouraged his usage of “Dad Pun Humor”. While this show was extremely fun for us, I can’t really tell you that you will be free from some freewheeling “humor”, a lot of which involves old-dude 80’s sitcom “Newhart”. Which is such an obvious go-to seeing as how we are discussing RUN-DMC’s 1988 mixed bag of tricks “Tougher Than Leather”.
In anticipation of reviewing Sturgill Simpson’s album “Metamodern Sounds In Country Music” I decided to take a bunch of acid and mushrooms and remind myself of how Psychedelic Thought and Eastern Philosophy had such incredible commonalities…
This week’s show features Demetri Martin’s 2012 record “Standup Comedian”. I’m not gonna say it wasn’t fun figuring out how to talk about a comedy record, or that we won’t do another record in the future, but it sure was an interesting choice.
This week we took on LCD Soundsystem and Ryan and I disagreed a lot.
But I’m WAAAAAAYYYYY less interested in that discussion than I am in what we listened to and talked about during A Few Minutes With.
Camper Van Beethoven. Well who the fuck knew? I had heard stuff before, but in my head they had kind of defined the mid-80’s “let’s throw everything at the wall, and fuck it, let’s try and be funny at the same time” ethos I found so spread all over the place during that period of time. But this damn album, “Key Lime Pie“, got my attention.
This week we were all subjected to the god-awful piece of shit that is Meatloaf’s “Bat Out of Hell”. The less I say the better ’cause after this week, I am going to try and forget I ever even heard of that record. Gonna try really really really really hard to forget. It’s that bad.
My Bloody Valentine’s seminal, revered work “Loveless” is lots of things: a swirling miasma of sonic assault, the birth of the legend of Kevin Shields’ madness (which saw the record make its way through nineteen studios and damn near bankrupt its label), and a layered, and above all, loud approach to song-making. So I guess what it is more than anything is a good story, and we love those.
This week we listened to “Electr-O-Pura” by Yo La Tengo. I liked it quite a bit. Kevin a little less so. But Ryan? Let’s just say somebody took over the first part of this podcast like a drunk fat guy working on a plate of ribs. In fact, I’ll let him tell you a little about it.
When I was in 5th grade, the hot girls in my school would choreograph dance routines to Janet Jackson’s “Control”. So naturally I’ve always had a soft spot for that record. I mean, I don’t like the songs, and would never ever choose to listen to them, but for some reason I’ve always thought fondly of it. Nonetheless, Ryan and Kevin had a different take on it. Ryan especially hated it.
Oh the things I wanted to say about Vampire Weekend before I was actually forced to listen to their eponymous album (wait for it) “Vampire Weekend”. I was prepared to like it way more than its preppy pedigree (I did)…I was prepared to hear myself deconstruct the album along those lines.
I have a hard time navigating my day if I have more than 2 or three things to accomplish in an afternoon. I do best when I have an entire morning to decide whether it’s gonna be a t-shirt or polo shirt day. So when I read about this Ty Segall motherfucker putting out like 20 albums in the last 5 years, I kind of wanted to punch him in the face. Not just because of his feverish work ethic, but because nobody that puts out that many songs in such a short period of time can possibly write any songs worth a damn.
It’s nearly impossible to speak the man’s name in any manner other than in all caps.
And yeah, the Brothers Newsum met with their ally Shane Bartell in Kevin’s un-air-conditioned lair in order to drink flagons of mead (or chalices of American craft beers) and tell tales of their fallen King, Ronnie James Dio, he of the mighty voice and the tiny legs.
Holy Shit! Hank Williams Jr. is lazy. I mean, I’m not questioning his actual work ethic or anything (judging from the inclusion of a private jet on the cover of “High Notes”, he probably flies around a lot), no, I’m aiming square at the shit he writes about.
THE SUPER BADASS LABOR DAY MIX-TAPE SHOW!!!!
So, after last week’s show (where-in we discuss the objectively god awful “Live Through This”), Ryan, Kevin, and Myself were having a well-deserved post-show beer (look, this shit is hard…not like lifting a car over your head hard, more like convincing your nephew that there’s no more “rest of the candy” hard) and we decided to do something special for our Labor Day show. Kevin wisely pointed out that no-one would even hear the show until like 10 days after Labor Day, but I didn’t see any reason to act like it didn’t even happen (yeah, apparently Kevin is spearheading a “War on Grilling Out”…where’s your outrage Bill O’Reilly?). After all, we could just tell everybody what the deal was. Eventually, I won this argument.
Whether we’re talking about her fiery role as Mrs. Kurt Cobain, her occasionally (and reputedly) laissez-faire turn as maternal figure, or, perhaps, her grunge-to-glam trajectory as lyricist and lead singer of the band Hole, Courtney and company lit a twisted fuse of stardom, baggage and frayed anger on Live Through This that seems to stalk her to this day.
What does one say about Josh Tillman? He is an odd dude. That said, the three of us kind of had a love-in discussing the Father John Misty Album “Fear Fun”. I earned back some good-will after the whole Bon Jovi incident (which I’m gonna need when they see what I have planned next.)
For some of us that came of age in the 90’s, Pavement pretty much defined the middle part of that decade ( for a whole hell of a lot of people it defined the whole decade.) I fall somewhere in the middle of that line of thinking…Pavement was everywhere but always in the background. I have many fond memories set to their soundtrack.
This week we take on the truly groundbreaking 1988 classic, “Straight Outta Compton”. I was tempted to write this in some clever fashion, with lots of puns and references to how white we are, but as funny and subversive that kind of humor is, I guess I’m just feeling a little blasé this week. I do want to comment on how hilariously silly the lyrics to this album are, and how much things have changed in the intervening 25 years since Straight Outta Compton was released.
For our third episode, we decided to tackle “Rumours” by Fleetwood Mac. At first glance it seemed kind of an odd choice to me (Ryan’s turn to choose), but when I was listening to it I realized that so many of the songs had become like wall paper to me. Their ubiquitous nature had removed any emotion from them. However, this is one of the bestselling records of all time. At 40 million sold (and counting) somebody really fucking likes this. I think we all came to the realization that the back story was pretty important to a lot of those songs, and by extension, a lot of those sales.
This week we’ll be discussing Paul’s Boutique, the record that set the stage for the second act of the Beastie Boys career. I think after the show we all walked away with a better understanding of why Ryan thinks the Beastie Boys are always yelling at him.