Brook Pridemore (of Brook Pridemore)

So, basically, Sal follows Dean around America, hoping to eventually live the Dream, only for Dean to abandon him, sick with dysentery, in a foreign land?

I thought it was, “Bros Before Hos.”

Top 10, 2012.

Below is a list of my Top 10 albums for the year of 2012, followed by my Top 10 singles.  There wasn’t room for commentary, in Tris McColl’s poll, but I wrote it.  Submitted for your approval, my Top 10 of 2012.

 

 

1.  Swans-The Seer- You know, I saw M. Gira, once, in 2002.  About a month after I moved to New York, during the CMJ Fest.  The showcase was at CB’s Lounge, horribly inappropriate for a folk show, because there was a foundation-shaking punk show going on next door.  We were so terrified of Gira, solo, that I swore out loud I’d never listen to any music he made, ever again [it should be mentioned here that my favorite record of the day was Ryan Adams’ Heartbreaker].   A decade goes by, and I accidentally hear the middle passage on “The Seer,” this album’s 30 plus minute title track.  Imagining the fun the band must have been having, hitting that same power chord over and again, had me in stitches.  I picked up the triple vinyl [I’m lamenting, now, not getting the CD, for parts of this album are stretched across multiple sides], and am surprised how well it still holds up.  Gira considers The Seer to be the culmination of 30 years of Swans music.  If that’s the case, I’m not sure I can bring myself to delve into their earlier material.  This album is fucking perfect: raw, skull-crushing rock music with moments of razor-sharp beauty.

2.  Fergus and Geronimo-Funky Was The State of Affairs- Boy.  It was a little jarring, picking up this record, expecting to hear another punk rock take on the first two Mothers of Invention albums.  What the initiated all got, instead, was a cheeky take on Parliament/Funkadelic, with occasional bubblegum punk thrown in.  There’s a whole concept about disintegrating modes of communication on Planet Earth, or something.  I, for one, can’t get past Jason Kelly’s insistent, pounding bass drum and A. Savage’s stoned-yet-nasal delivery.

3.  Ariel Pink’ Haunted Graffiti-Mature Themes- I picked up Donnie and Joe Emerson’s Dreaming Wild based on Ariel Pink’s glowing review on that album’s cover.  I then picked up the new APHG, because I had no clue who he actually was.  Mature Themes apes every era of Beck’s career, at once, in a good way.  Lyrics are seemingly an afterthought, though delivered in a deadpan not unlike early Adam Green.

4.  The Mountain Goats-Transcendental Youth- I’m just starting to get completely sick and tired of disappointing new Mountain Goats albums, and then Darnielle and Co. breathe new life into the old horse, once again.  Nothing particularly new here, in terms of lyrical themes, but the three of them are clearly getting comfortable playing together, and Matthew E. White’s horn section guest throughout, to surprisingly pretty ends.

5.  Archers of Loaf-White Trash Heroes reissue- I’m not sure I ever listened to this album, all the way through, in its day [though I was one of only about fifty people at the Detroit stop on their breakup tour, so that’s something].  The glitchy, skittery keyboards and sense of impending doom throughout make White Trash Heroes the perfect American counterpart to Kid A.  Possibly the best Archers album, after all.

6.  Thomas Patrick Maguire-No Supression, Gentleman Drunk- This one seemed a little muted after 2010’s Temper Tantrums Cause Delays, but the dialled down effect really suit this moody batch of introspective songs.  Plus, the sound here is more true to what TPM sounds like, in front of microphones, in bars.

7.  Ty Segall and White Fence-Hair- It’s hard to pick a favorite of the three albums Segall released in 2012 [further, it’s the 23rd of January as I write, and two more Ty Segall albums were released, yesterday.  God.],  but this one probably gets the most replay around the house.  A perfect balance between the homespun quality of his solo albums and the brute force of the live show.

8.  Sharon Van Etten-Tramp- didn’t have quite the replay value I was hoping for, but was more or less ubiquitous around our house and in my headphones for about a month.

9.  The Evens-The Odds- Goddamn, I really don’t want to like Ian Mackay.  I don’t know why, I just don’t want to.  I can’t help but find my fingers and toes popping to the simple yet potent rhythms these two produce.

10.  Bonnie Prince Billy-Now Here’s My Plan- Mostly just for the version of “I See A Darkness, herein.  For a guy who’s not very good live, he sure does release a lot of live albums, huh?

Honorable Mention-Brook Pridemore’s Gory Details, which still hasn’t found a home for release yet.  This album is being held prisoner, until a time when the world is ready for it.

Ten Singles (?)

1.  Bonnie “Prince” Billy-Hummingbird 10”- surprisingly, worth the $65 I had to pay to secure a copy.  No, you can’t have the mp3s.  They cost $65.

2.  The Oh Sees-Wait, Let’s Go- I don’t even remember who’s on the B side to this, I still haven’t gotten over how good the A side is.

3.  The Mountain Goats-Steal Smoked Fish- proving, again, that Darnielle has songs to throw away, “Steal Smoked Fish” is up there among the likes of “Attention All Pickpockets,” in terms of high-quality TMG B-sides.

4.  The Beets-”God” 7”-I’m sure this is old, but The Beets “cover” of “The Locomotion” is the pinnacle of their minimal psychedelia, to date.

5.  Fergus and Geronimo-”Blind Muslim Girl” 7”-irremovable from your ear, from first listen.

6.  The lot of Headcoats/Headcoatees singles I won on Ebay.  Especially The Headcoatees almost-better-than-the-original cover of Plastic Bertrand’s “Ca Plaine Pour Moi.”

7.  Ninjasonik-”Tight Pants.”

8.  Houseboat-”21st Century Breakroom”-The east coast response to NOFX’s “The Decline.”  But, you know.  Not made by the morally reprehensible.

9.  Millbrae Brothers-”Peanut Butter Mountain”- Six songs on one 7” single.  Neil Young gone wrong garage rock.  An almost perfect concept album in ten minutes.

10.  M. Ward-”Primitive Girl” 7” Specifically, the B-side, “The Twist,” which belies a lyrical playfulness and rollicking groove not typically present in Ward records.

One Thing About The 90s.

I’ve long been a champion of all things 90s. In 2009, I wrote a serialized editorial called The Nineties-ist.  In those twenty or so weeks, I chronicled the downfall and end of the music industry, as we know it, beginning in 1985 and ending in 2003.  I wrote about a different year each week.  My process included looking for interesting coincidences around the internet (did you know that Husker Du’s Zen Arcade and Phil Collins’ No Jacket Required were released on the same day?), combining them with well-known historical facts, and slathering my own opinion across it.  I’ll post that serial here, someday, as the site that hosted it has since gone the way of the buffalo.  
Here’s something that’s been bothering me, though.  As far as I can remember, I never wrote about it, in the day.
There was this phenomenon, throughout the 1990s, that bands hit the big time, and disavowed the song that had made them famous.  I can think of countless examples, but here are a few.

1.  Eels refused to play their 1996 debut single “Novocaine For The Soul” in its’ original version.  Instead, E talked his way through a modified version of the song, the bass and over-driven guitars replaced by a glockenspiel.
2.  Ben Folds Five rarely played their biggest hit, “Brick,” citing the fact that it was in a much lower key than Ben Folds could comfortably sing in.
3.  Ween pointedly did not include a live version of “Push Th’ Little Daisies” on their Paintin’ the Town Brown CD, claiming that they rarely played the song live, anyway.
4.  The Cardigans’ Nina Persson had this bit of faintly damning praise for her band’s only US hit, “Lovefool”- “The biggest hits are the ones that are easiest to write.”
5.  Radiohead play “Creep” so rarely that fans routinely refer to a particular show as “that one where they played ‘Creep.’”  (This last one may be because, in fact, virtually every other Radiohead song is better than “Creep.”)

The list goes on.  And I can’t take it.

Throughout the 90s, kids my age were taught to hate songs on the radio.  We were conditioned to roll our eyes, jaded-ly, when Rancid kicked into the opening riff of “Ruby Soho.”  Popular musicians’ disavowment of their biggest hits instilled this I’m-cooler-than-you-because-I-liked-this-band’s-first-album-and-not-just-their-hits attitude in my peers that made me sick with fear of being called a poser, in the day.  

I don’t harbor any illusions about where my tastes come from.  Yes, the music I listen to has changed, over time.  Certain bands, I find a little embarrassing to cop to the love I once felt for them.  But the fact is, I wouldn’t have seen Thee Oh Sees last September if I hadn’t Ty Segall’s garage-grunge-punk earlier in the year; and I wouldn’t have heard him if I hadn’t gone to the shop looking for something that sounded like Thee Headcoats; and I wouldn’t have heard of them if I hadn’t gone looking for something bare bones, like Operation Ivy.  I wouldn’t have heard OPIV if I hadn’t gotten so into Rancid when they got big, and Rancid probably wouldn’t have crossed my periphery if I hadn’t seen Green Day on MTV, and I mightn’t have been open to Green Day if They Might Be Giants hadn’t been featured on Tiny Toons, that fateful Saturday morning in 1992, and changed my life forever.

Do you see how interconnected things are?  Today, our indie rock bands are lucky to have a single touch the cultural zeitgeist, but there was so much fat, dripping off the cultural bone in the 90s that bands scoffed at their mass audiences, and taught their fans to scoff, in turn.

Music brings people together.  It’s the one thing all people have in common.  We all have a natural rhythm and melody inherent in ourselves.  When we introduce exclusivity, we introduce death.  I could go on and on, I’m sure.  Maybe next time.

I Still Do This, For This Reason.

Hey, all.

I saw this post on my Facebook band page, tonight.  Which, by the way, www.facebook.com/brookpridemoremusic

This is why I still keep on singing and writing.  I love you all, individually.

b

Hey Brook. I saw you at AS220 a few years back and I lost my shit (literally started balling my eyes out) when you started playing The Year I Get It Right. It hit me hard (for many reasons I’m sure). I snagged your CD that evening and I love it, especially that song. I just wanted to pop in and thank you and, also, let you know my last tattoo was in honor of that tune. I got a key on my wrist in homage to the line “Shut the lock so hard I broke the key, now there’s nothing there between the world and me.” That’s the best I can really do to explain how much that songs moves me without getting super sappy. So, thanks again, look forward to seeing you around my neck of the woods again.