Chapter XXIII: A Listener’s Guide To “Nine-Track Minded”

Chapter XXII: The Dawn Of A New Age

Summer of 1998.  I had gone back home after my junior year of college at Indiana University.  My wife, Amy (girlfriend at the time), stayed at IU to keep taking summer classes, however.  So, I arranged my work schedule at the small-town grocery store in such a way that my two days off each week would always be back-to-back, which allowed me the time for a weekly drive up to Bloomington (about 1.75 hours from home) to stay and hang out with her for a couple days.  These trips were obviously the high points of my summer that year, but one in particular stands out as… dare I say… LIFE ALTERING…?!?!?!?!?!

I headed out from home that morning, expecting to arrive in Bloomington around 10:00 a.m.  I knew that Amy would still be in her morning classes when I got into town, but that was OK, because I had two very serious missions to accomplish before going to her apartment.

As I hit Bloomington, my first stop was Streetside Records.  In those days, I remember there being at least nine record stores in just a one-mile stretch along Kirkwood Avenue.  Can you even comprehend that in this day and age?  NINE FUCKING RECORD STORES?  Anyway, I was a frequent customer of all of them, but Streetside was the ULTIMATE one in my book, no contest.  [Side note 1:  During that depressingly shitty early-2000s era which saw the unjust and undeserving deaths of so many amazing music stores, I was, and still am to this day, thoroughly baffled as to how Streetside was the FIRST one in Bloomington to meet its demise.]

I would regularly spend hours (yes, literally HOURS) in Streetside looking through absolutely every last goddamn thing they had.  Every aisle, every rack, every artist, every album, every genre.  Their selection was unmatched.  It was also dangerously close to the IU campus, unfortunately (or fortunately, maybe) – I can’t even begin to guess how many times I was walking to a class with the purest of intentions, and then at the last minute, decided, “Fuck this, I’m going to Streetside instead.”  But on this particular summer day in 1998, I had no time to browse the entire inventory.  I had to get right down to business so that I could move on to my second crucial mission of the day.  So, I ran in the front door, ran to the “rock/pop” section, ran to the letter “F,” excitedly grabbed Fastball’s “All The Pain Money Can Buy” with butterflies in my stomach, and ran to the cash register to check out.  [Side note 2:  That Fastball album ended up at number 21 on my “favorite albums ever” list.  See blog chapters I and XV for my full “top 80.”]

Now that my first mission was successfully accomplished, it was time to walk a couple more blocks down Kirkwood to tackle mission #2.

I arrived at the intersection of Kirkwood Avenue and Washington Street.  Sadly, the store has been gone for several years, but on that monumental day, it was the location of Roadworthy– a musical instrument store.  It was at this establishment, on this day, I purchased my first guitar.  Knowing nothing about brand names, gear, tech, craftsmanship, quality, fair pricing, how to play, or anything of the sort, I economically chose an Oscar Schmidt, which was only $150, including the canvas gig bag.

Right before the fall semester started, I stupidly demolished the holy shit out of my ankle bone, leaving me in a cast for a couple months, during which I spent a lot of time in my dorm room teaching myself how to play chords, and how to use those chords to play several songs.  I had no clue just how crap-assy this guitar was, because it was the only guitar I knew.  The playability was terrible.  The neck, strings, frets, and bridge were not even close to being set up in a comfortable way, but I didn’t know anything about that kind of stuff (and, actually, I still don’t).  Since I had no basis for comparison, I just assumed playing guitar was always that hard.  As my skills improved and I advanced on to playing better models of much-more-comfortably-playable guitars, I began to realize, “Damn, this old guitar really sucks… How did I even learn to play on this thing?”

But, major, major, major, MAJOR props go out to that Oscar Schmidt!  It took me a long-ass way through my musical development.  After learning to play on it, I wrote many of my own songs on it, I used it to record several of my songs, and I even played it at a few live performances (which was a massive pain in the ass, because it doesn’t plug in, so that means I had to play with a microphone pointed at the strings, which also means that I couldn’t move around very much).

Even though I never play it anymore, and most likely never will again, I will forever respect and salute the old bastard for all of the milestones we experienced together.  I learned everything I know about guitar on THAT guitar.  And I even think that its limitations combined with my own limitations helped me to figure out my signature sound and style– I learned that I would never be a lead guitarist, and I would never be good at guitar solos, but that was fine, because I COULD use my particular strengths to make loud, sloppy, catchy, dorky, excessively wordy, acoustic punk rock tunes that I would always be proud to play for the world.  And I would always have a goddamn good time playing them.

Chapter XXI: Fully Staged, Uncaged, And Middle-Aged

If I am ever required to issue a formal, televised speech intended for broadcast to the entire world, my one demand is that I get to stand on the stage at Square Cat Vinyl while delivering this profound statement.

I’ve played shows at a lot of venues… some were great, some were ok, some sucked ass.  But even the very best of those could never compare to Square Cat.  Performing there has always felt like I was playing with the “home court advantage.”  The staff members have always been very welcoming and very supportive, appreciating my not-quite-conventional style and experimental tendencies.  And even though the crowd is different every time, I also feel solid audience appreciation when I play there, too.  Well, maybe not from those two little kids that I made cry at a Christmas show several years back, but, hey… Can’t please absolutely everybody, I guess.  I’ve still got a lot more wins than losses, so I’ll take it.

Back in the days of yore, the record store/venue/bar/coffee shop was long from front to back and narrow from side to side.  The classic, beloved stage was against one of the long walls, about halfway back.  This was the stage that I knew and loved so well.  The stage where NO idea was too wacky to try out.  Whether I was playing xylophone, mandolin, bucket drums, or even just singing while smacking a beer bottle with a drumstick, it worked there.  When I would occasionally invite my good friend Snuggles The Clown to take the spotlight, it didn’t matter if he was menacingly screaming horror songs while pounding an electric guitar, woefully singing Smokey Robinson’s “The Tears Of A Clown” while playing the guiro, or silently wow-ing the crowd with balloon animals and contortionism, it worked there.  The one time in my music career when I fucked up a song so badly that I just had to completely stop was on that stage.  And it didn’t even shake me up or embarrass me in the least– I just told the crowd straight up, “Hey, that’s the first time I’ve ever fucked up a song so badly that I just had to completely stop!”  And it worked there.  We laughed about it together, and the show went on.

And then… COVID.

Square Cat, like pretty much everything else, shut down.  Records could still be ordered online and picked up at the front door, but that’s just no match for flipping through the racks in person.  There was no more live music, no more hanging out and chatting with friends, no more sneaking out of work to go get a coffee or beer.  One of my few comfort zones in this world was gone.

BUT– It’s not all bad news!  During the quarantine shut-down, Square Cat strategically took this time to expand into the next-door shop that had recently departed.  As the VAST remodeling project began, I was fortunate enough to get a few souvenir squares of the original stage’s carpet, complete with authentic dried sweat and spilled Schlitz.  The wall between the two spaces was removed and the entire store was doubled in size.  The stage was redesigned and rebuilt in a back corner, the inventory was significantly increased, record listening stations were added, extra seating and tables were added.  So, not only did they get to reopen, they got to reopen with a BANG.  And I had regained an old familiar comfort zone, where I could once again sip on a couple beers while browsing through the records.  Square Cat was back, in all its majestic glory.

And THEN… April 23, 2022… Record Store Day.  A religious holiday for a music dork of my caliber.  It was the first time since 2019 that it had been restored to its original form– a single day, no restrictions.  And Square Cat invited me to perform for it.  Alongside the ravenous grasping of limited-edition vinyl releases, I got to try out that sexy new stage for the first time.  The curtain backdrop, the snazzy lighting, the checkerboard tile floor and area rugs, the houseplants, the end table, the lamps, the whole 1970s aesthetic… it was like playing in Barry Manilow’s living room (and yes, that is very much a compliment– I love Barry Manilow!).  The store was filled with music enthusiasts, celebrating the joy of record collecting, soaking up the absolutely perfect spring weather, and taking in an earful or two of live performances.  As always, I tried a few new things on stage that I had never previously done, and just had a fantastic time enjoying every angle of the entire experience.  The crowd was very receptive to the sounds I was throwing down, the staff was as amazing as ever, and it was great to see so many friends come hang out and watch the show.  First time playing at Square Cat in over two years, and it was a uniquely memorable and heartwarming event.

I really have no idea what sort of bizarre and impossible circumstances would result in me having to address the people of Earth in a worldwide broadcast, but it never hurts to think ahead.  So, keep an eye out, Square Cat… Should the apocalyptic day arrive when I am in such a position, get that stage cleared off for me, because I’m coming your way.

Chapter XX: Thank You, Arnold

Sit back and relax while we step back in time for another tale of life-altering musical discovery…

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(That line above was supposed to be the typed equivalent of a TV scene making a wavy-screened transition into a flashback. Maybe it doesn’t translate into writing all that well. But, hey— I tried.)

It’s 1993.  I’m in high school.  I’m a hard rock and heavy metal fan.  I’m also an Arnold Schwarzenegger fan.  And here comes “Last Action Hero.”  Long before its actual theatrical release, my best friend and I were already ultra-psyched about it, and rushed to the theater to see it as soon as we had the chance.  To no one’s surprise, we absolutely loved it, and were always baffled by its widespread poor reception.  Even now, I say it’s my #3 favorite Schwarzenegger movie, after “Terminator” and “Terminator 2” (I can never decide which of those I like better… it’s pretty much a tie).

The accompanying soundtrack CD to “Last Action Hero” also hit the shelves around the same time as the film was released.  It was an immediate “must-buy” for me, containing a whole slew of bands I liked– AC/DC, Tesla, Alice In Chains, Anthrax, Aerosmith, Megadeth, Def Leppard, Queensryche.  Before I ever put the CD into my player, I expected it to thoroughly kick my ass.  And it did.  But what I did NOT expect was that the most thorough and longest-running ass-kicking was delivered by one of the bands I had never heard.

Even though I wasn’t familiar with any of their music, I recognized the name Fishbone from my routine, in-depth examinations of every item in every record store I visited.  I remembered looking at their CDs many times, with no idea what style of music it was, but thinking that they had the coolest band logo on Earth.  I had always been curious about them, and this was a perfect way to figure out who they were– a song included on a soundtrack that I was buying anyway.  Their “Last Action Hero” contribution was the song “Swim.”  The first time I listened to the CD, that song won me over right away, with its slow and low, grinding guitars.  It was heavy as shit, and I really enjoyed the vocals— manic and chaotic, with several people all yelling different things at the same time.  It sounded largely ad-libbed, almost like it was recorded at a big house party, everybody just drunk and shouting random insanity while they danced.  So much frenzied energy coming out of this recording… I was immediately a Fishbone fan, and my new top priority became purchasing one of their albums.

Next time I went music shopping, I knew I was going to get a Fishbone CD, but which one should I choose?  I had seen a few different ones over the years, and since I only knew this single surprising and mysterious song, I figured I would just look at what the store had, and pick the one that “spoke” to me.  I saw that their most recent album, “Give A Monkey A Brain And He’ll Swear He’s The Center Of The Universe,” contained “Swim” (the song that I already knew), and the cover artwork on both the front and back was incredible, so I picked it.  I charged home with my purchase, anxious for another round of borderline-psychotic heavy metal to beat me in the face.  “Swim” was the first track, so, cool— kick this thing off with a great tune, and see what happens from there.  Tracks 2 and 3 were more high-energy and melodic metal, right up my alley.  Then track 4 came on… HORNS!  And a poppy, ska sound!  What the hell???  I was taken completely off guard by this move, in the best way possible.  My tastes had always been diverse, and being a trombone player, I was always a fan of rockin’ horn parts, so this unpredicted stylistic U-turn was just perfect for me.  As the album continued to play, they threw funk, soul, jazz, and punk at me, too.  I was in total hog heaven with this thing.  A group of guys exploding with frantic intensity and jumping from genre to genre effortlessly… They were speaking my language 100%.  My NEW top priority was now to get every single one of their albums.  I could not wait to see what else these dudes had to offer in their catalog.  They rapidly became one of my very favorite bands and have remained that way ever since.

I have never once gotten even slightly tired of listening to Fishbone, and their 1991 album, “The Reality Of My Surroundings,” is #4 on my “all-time favorite albums ever” list.  Along with providing me years and years of perpetually exciting entertainment, Fishbone has also been a huge inspiration and influence on my own writing and performing.  I incorporate a lot of different genres and styles into my songwriting and the bizarre covers that I choose to occasionally add into my setlists, and I play my shows with as much energy as I can give.  My songs may not exactly sound like Fishbone songs, and that’s fine– I’m not trying to sound like them.  But their adventurously wild spirit certainly fueled the way I wanted my songs and my performances to beam with diversity, originality, unpredictability, and enthusiasm.  And even this many years later, they STILL have the coolest band logo on Earth.

Chapter XIX: Not What I Expected

I consider basically any music that I enjoy to be influential, to at least some degree, in my approach to writing and/or performing.  The more different styles, artists, genres, and ideas that I can absorb into my musical makeup, the better chance I have of creating something interesting, unique, and fun, born from a diverse array of sources… even if they have nothing whatsoever in common with my own sound.  A lot of my favorite artists and albums have no sonic similarity to my songs at all, yet I consider them to be major influences, just by inspiring that inner charge of electricity that pushes me to challenge myself beyond my previous limits and to continue raising the standards that I hold for myself.  A perfect example of the “very influential yet 100% different” phenomenon is Guns N’ Roses “Chinese Democracy.”  Yeah, yeah… ten million things have been said about GNR’s years upon years of controversial behavior and the extended drama leading up to “Democracy’s” release.  There’s no need to go into any of that again– partially because it’s all been said already, and partially because it’s completely unimportant to me.  What IS important to me is the music itself and the unexpectedly shocking effect that it had on my creativity.

I was 10 years old in 1987, when I first heard “Appetite For Destruction,” shortly after it was released.  And, as you would expect, I was nuts about it right from the start.  Even as an immature pre-teen, I could tell it was clearly a cut above all the other mainstream hard rock and metal of the time.  Fast forward to 1991 (the greatest overall year of music in human history)-- The “Use Your Illusion I” and “II” albums hit the shelves.  On release date, I rode my scooter on the back roads over to the neighboring town, went to my favorite record store, and bought “II” on cassette.  And, boy, did I ever think I was cool for going over there on my own to pick it up.  When I got home and listened to the tape, it thoroughly kicked me in the ass (“Estranged” ended up becoming my #1 GNR song ever), and I immediately began plotting the fastest way possible to get back over there and buy “I” with my ultra-limited funds, as a not-wealthy, very-dependent 14-year-old.  It was only about a week before I decided to sneak back there and buy it, and then I returned home to find myself in trouble for purchasing two tapes in such a short time span.  But, fuck it– these tapes both ruled.  It was well worth getting in trouble.  Around Thanksgiving of that year, I got my first CD player, and shortly thereafter, I joined the BMG music club for the first of many times (buy 1, get 8 free, or whatever).  In my initial sign-up shipment of 4 instant freebies, “Appetite For Destruction” was one of my choices.  A couple years later, I received CD copies of “Use Your Illusion I” and “II” for Christmas, still in those insanely awesome 6” x 12” cardboard longboxes that I will always miss.

Over the years, I never stopped loving those classic GNR albums, and I kept following the ongoing news of this mythic, forever-upcoming “Chinese Democracy” album.  Will it ever actually get released?  What will it sound like?  Who is even in the band at this point?  How many songs are going to be on it?  I got a small, single-dosage taste of the new GNR incarnation through the inclusion of their song “Oh My God” on the very-kick-ass “End Of Days” soundtrack in 1999, but it wasn’t really enough to determine exactly what I should expect from a full-length album.  I think that song just prompted more questions than answers.  But it didn’t matter.  I never lost interest, I never lost faith– I knew that, no matter what, and no matter how long it took, I was all-in.

So now it’s 2008– It was around Thanksgiving, and “Chinese Democracy” was FINALLY scheduled to come out, as a Best Buy exclusive release.  Naturally, I went to the closest Best Buy and bought it on CD the millisecond that it was available.  I rushed home and excitedly put it in the CD player, with more than a decade of built-up anticipation…

Confusion.  This is it?  What the hell is this?  I don’t get it.  It might be cool, but I can’t tell.  So, over the next several days, I kept playing it, determined to decipher the mystery of what I was hearing.  At home, in the car, at work… anywhere I could listen to it.  Every song had about a million lyrics (which is a “plus” for me), and a ton of layers– multiple guitars, keyboards, electronic elements, sound effects, etc.  Intriguing in a way, but hard to digest.  After several listens, it slowly began to sink in… WOW– this is intense.  I finally started being able to pick apart all the little pieces that made up each song, and appreciate how involved every arrangement was, how excessively wordy and personally deep– yet still oddly vague– the lyrics felt, how much work had to have gone into each complicated track.  Once I was able to listen to the album without feeling overwhelming auditory bombardment, it blew me away on so many different levels.  The songwriting and musicianship was amazing… I could always count on GNR to rock hard, but this was an entirely different form of rocking hard.

As a songwriter myself, I sat up and took attentive notice of how incredible the composition of every song was.  It made me completely reevaluate my own craft, my own technique, my own standards, and pretty much everything I had done up to that point.  I knew that I had to start writing better songs.  I had no intention of trying to sound like GNR or anything, but I suddenly wanted (and needed) to “up” my game– better lyrics, better melodies, better instrumentation… anything I could do to take my skills up another notch or five.  So I did.  I busted more ass than ever, to push myself further than I ever had in my previous work, and create new ideas that made me surprise myself and rethink the ways I approached songwriting in the past.  It was almost like I was teaching myself how to write songs all over again, but this time with a more fiercely driven goal.  Nothing I had done before was good enough– I needed to work harder and kick more ass than I had ever thought possible.

“Chinese Democracy” came in at an impressively high #6 when I compiled my definitive “favorite albums ever” list.  My history of loving all things GNR ran deep, over the course of many years, but in terms of overall impact, none of them hit me as hard as this one did.  Yeah, a 10-year-old got his ass kicked by “Appetite.”  Yeah, a 14-year-old felt like a bad ass for going out and buying the “Use Your Illusion” tapes.  But a 31-year-old realizing that he needed to entirely change the way in which he was writing songs… that’s fucking HUGE.  And it’s an impact that I still feel every time I listen to it… which is QUITE often.

Chapter XVIII: Chomp!

Taking a stack of stuff to trade in at the record store is always a thrilling adventure.  Those few minutes of nail-biting anticipation while waiting for the store employee to assess your trades and tell you how much you get out of it… such a complicated mixture of nervousness, excitement, and tension.  Once you hear that final number served up with a mild dosage of adrenaline, it’s time to browse the racks with a sense of ravenous triumph.  “I’ve always kinda wanted this one… and now I can get it for FREE!  Oooh, this one’s a little pricey… but what the hell– IT’S FREE!”  This part always makes me feel like the music-dork equivalent of Cookie Monster.  Then, when the cash register transaction concludes and you emerge with a new pile of music that didn’t actually cost any real money, it feels like you won a prize.  Are there bigger joys in life?  Sure.  But this particular one is truly unique compared to all the others.

About 3 years ago, I took some records to Square Cat Vinyl for a trade.  First came the nail-biting anticipation, then the adrenaline, then the Cookie-Monster-shopping phase, then the afterglow of victory.  One of the excitingly free selections that I brought home was a new vinyl pressing of Metallica “Ride The Lightning.”  Of course, I had owned and loved the CD for many, many years.  It’s always been one of my favorite Metallica albums, so I was pumped to now have it on vinyl, especially for FREE.  The jacket was in perfect, pristine condition, too… no corner dings, no indentures of any kind anywhere.  It looked like it was handed to me straight off the factory line.  No– better yet, it looked like I took it straight off the factory line myself, with no other human hands having ever touched it.  When I got home, I placed my stack of new, free acquisitions (with Metallica on the top) on the kitchen counter while I walked into the bedroom to put my shoes in the closet.  I couldn’t have been away from those records for more than about 30 seconds.  But when I came back to pick them up, I saw that my cat, Goblin, had chewed through the top corner of the Metallica jacket.  Are you fucking kidding me?  Why????  Why would a cat ever feel compelled to do that?  There’s no way it actually tastes good!  And the whole thing happened so fast that it almost seemed like he had to have been planning the attack before I ever walked away– “Oh, awesome!  Mark left the room!  I can go bite that record now!”  When I first saw it, I was naturally pissed off for just a few seconds.  But then, the bigger-picture clarity hit me… Every time I play this record, I’ll think about Goblin and how he does some of the weirdest, goofiest shit on Earth.  The cat is a total nut-job who makes me laugh every day, and I’m completely crazy about him.  The record-biting incident is just one of 8 billion ways in which he keeps surprising me with his random, bizarre antics.

So, my “previously-perfect-but-now-flawed” Metallica record jacket just adds a new dimension to my decades-long history of enjoying that album.  It’s one more heartfelt memory that I will get to experience whenever I hear it, look at it, or talk about it.  And, ever since this scandalous occurrence, my wife and I have decided that if Goblin were to ever compile his own “favorite albums ever” list, “Ride The Lightning” would be in the #1 spot.

Chapter XVII: Not A “Top Ten” List… My 25 Favorite Albums Of 2021!  Now With Bonus Features!

Ten is never enough.  It was time to just admit that fact.  Instead of trying to bend the rules, make exceptions, make excuses, and cheat my way into adding extra entries, this year, I went ahead and just called it what it is… a “top 25” list.

All year long, I kept a list of all the albums I heard that I liked, so I wouldn’t forget about any of them.  When I sat down to finalize the definitive “best of 2021” elite and arrange them in preferential order, it was fun watching everything fall into place.  Lots of diversity… pop, rock, metal, jazz, country, soul, funk, ska, prog, instrumental hip-hop, and, yes, “alternative” (I will forever be a 90s guy, so I still love the term “alternative”).  So, here we go– the 25 albums of this past year that were the most aurally pleasing to my personal sense of sound…

1. Silk Sonic  “An Evening With Silk Sonic”

2. Music From The Feature Film “Chasing Whiskey”

3. Mammoth WVH  “Mammoth WVH”

4. Marty Friedman  “Tokyo Jukebox 3”

5. Sons Of Kemet  “Black To The Future”

6. Jon Batiste  “We Are”

7. Cha Wa  “My People”

8. Orgone  “Moonshadows”

9. Danny Elfman  “Big Mess”

10. Delvon Lamarr Organ Trio  “I Told You So”

11. Durand Jones & The Indications  “Private Space”

12. Weezer  “Van Weezer”

13. Midland  “The Sonic Ranch”

14. Jason Bieler & the Baron Von Bielski Orchestra  “Songs For The Apocalypse”

15. Gary Numan  “Intruder”

16. Rob Zombie  “The Lunar Injection Kool Aid Eclipse Conspiracy”

17. Duran Duran  “Future Past”

18. Dee Snider  “Leave A Scar”

19. Halsey  “If I Can’t Have Love, I Want Power”

20. The Mighty Mighty Bosstones  “When God Was Great”

21. Billie Eilish  “Happier Than Ever”

22. DJ Muggs The Black Goat  “Dies Occidendum”

23. Liquid Tension Experiment  “3”

24. Dream Theater  “A View From The Top Of The World”

25. Gilby Clarke  “The Gospel Truth”

And now, as promised by the title of this article, this year’s list includes more than just my favorite albums!  Much like a DVD, we have additional bonus features this time!-- 

Bonus feature #1:  Best albums that I first discovered in 2021, even though they existed prior to 2021 (in chronological order of discovery)

Starchild Jr.  “Hand Me Down Diapers” – A really fun Parliament/Funkadelic offshoot that genuinely keeps that original spirit alive and well.

Eleine  “Dancing In Hell” – Symphonic and melodic heavy metal that reminds me at times of Evanescence and Faith No More… and also of a massive kick in the ass!

Janelle Monae  “The Archandroid” – A mind-blowingly unpredictable combination of soul, funk, jazz, pop, and who knows what else.  I discovered this one at the National Museum Of African American Music in Nashville, Tennessee, which was a super-cool place, and also a new 2021 discovery for me.

Bonus feature #2:  Best record stores that I first discovered in 2021 (in order of preference)

Vinyl Tap (Nashville, TN) – Exciting, surprising, and vast selection of new vinyl.  Plus, you can drink draft beer while you shop.  The staff was friendly and enjoyable to chat with, too.  A slam-dunk from every angle!

The Loop (Cleveland, OH) – Another really fun selection of new records… lots of stuff you don’t find at most stores.  It’s also a coffee shop, and holy crap, their coffee is DEEEEEE-licious!  One of the best iced mochas I’ve had in a mighty long time!

The Rhythm Section (Gatlinburg, TN) – This one was a challenge at first.  Besides the records and CDs, there is SO much other random, pop-culture-related merchandise jam-packed into every square millimeter of shelf and wall space.  When you walk in, it’s overwhelming to see… hard to even know where to start.  On top of the sensory bombardment, the aisles are extremely narrow, it’s busy as fuck at all times of day, and the records are organized spine-out, which makes them even harder to browse.  HOWEVER– once you commit to the time and effort of really digging into a full exploration of the store, it’s truly incredible.  I came away with a bizarre combination of records, CDs, and toys that I would have never expected to find, and I still feel like I only actually saw about 30% of the store’s total inventory.

Bonus feature #3:  My favorite vinyl reissue of 2021

Saigon Kick  “The Lizard” – As previously stated, I will forever be a 90s guy… permanently (and happily) stuck in the past.  Therefore, I am always more excited about vinyl reissues of old albums than I am about current new releases.  Aligned with my perpetual 90s obsession and adoration, my favorite vinyl reissue that happened in 2021 was “The Lizard” by Saigon Kick, from 1992.  I’ve been an enormous fan of this album since the CD first hit the new release rack.  It’s been sky-high on my “reissue wishlist” for years, and this past November, my wish was finally granted, when it was put out as a Record Store Day Black Friday exclusive.

There you have it.  My (somewhat sort-of) brief recap of the 2021 music experience, as I see it.  Certainly not the best of times, but certainly not the worst of times, either… plenty of good stuff, plenty of shitty stuff.  But the shitty stuff isn’t worth talking about, because it doesn’t deserve to have any further attention drawn to it.  I hope you enjoyed the list, and I hope that it helps point you toward some new musical discoveries of your own.  Let’s see what 2022 has to offer!  I already know about a few upcoming releases that I’m really looking forward to hearing…

Chapter XVI: Of Course I’m Playing Bucket Drums

I always switch around between several instruments during my performances, and I love to experiment with different instrumentation on my recordings.  The elements of variety, surprise, and originality make for a unique and memorable show, and are also a fun challenge to myself, to see what kinds of new ideas I can develop and how far I can push my creativity.  If I try something bizarre and it works, great!  If it doesn’t work… well, at least I tried something different.  I also tend to treat every instrument as a percussion instrument… aggressive, animalized pounding is perpetually my preferred method of attack… guitar, piano, xylophone, mandolin, whatever.  If it can be played at all, it should be played with enthusiasm.

So, combine all of these determined musical approaches together, and where does that philosophical path lead?  To Menards, of course.

I realize the concept of drumming on buckets or other household items is nothing new.  I enjoyed the “Stomp” show, filled with all manner of “non-instrument” instruments.  And I’ve always enjoyed seeing street performers in New Orleans do their bucket drumming.  And, then there’s my very favorite, the Blue Man Group, incorporating homemade percussion contraptions into their performances.

When I decided that I wanted to start playing a bucket drum set at my shows, I knew I wanted to set up a few different sizes, to give me a range of sounds, but I didn’t want to make it too complex, so that I could still sing while playing a basic beat and simple fills.  I also knew that regular wooden drumsticks would be too harsh of a sound hitting bare plastic and metal, so I figured my rubber percussion mallets were the perfect answer.  I grabbed my mallets and headed to Menards, to investigate their selection.

Once I located their aisle of buckets, I took one of every variety that was in stock, placed them upside-down on the floor, and went up and down the line a few times, tapping on each one to get a feel for the pitch and sound that they all had to offer.  While I was doing my shopping, a couple of customers passed by the aisle, and they both opted for the “avoid-eye-contact-and-keep-moving” panhandler-treatment tactic.  Eventually, I landed on the decision of three buckets being the best choice for me– this would provide an adequate amount of range, while still being a manageable number for playing with ease.  Then I figured out the three that worked the best together, sonically speaking.  I ended up with the metal bucket (snare drum), the 2-gallon plastic bucket (tom), and the 5-gallon plastic bucket (bass drum).  Perfection!  Well, almost… The only thing my brand new kit needed was drawings of my panicky, agoraphobic stick-figure character.  There!-- NOW it was perfection!

At shows, I’ve used the drum set for playing my song “Arsenal Of Words,” plus several fun covers–

Sir Mix-A-Lot “Baby Got Back”

Bell Biv Devoe “Poison”

Mark Ronson & Bruno Mars “Uptown Funk”

Run-DMC “Christmas In Hollis”

New Kids On The Block “Hangin’ Tough”

Using the drum set immediately became my favorite part of the setlist for every show I played.

I also used it on the home recordings of my songs “The Recipe” and “Coffee On The Floor (XXX-tra caffeinated version),” as well as my video performance of “Christmas In Hollis,” which was included in the 2020 Joyful Noise Holiday Special.

I have never been interested in the tech/gear/equipment side of the music world.  I find it completely boring and unimportant for my personal style.  If it makes noise, give it to me, and I’ll do SOMETHING with it, however unconventional or primitive it may be.  My $16.00 unofficial drum set has brought me a lot of fun experiences, memories, and recordings.  And– Hey, Menards!  Since I use and endorse your products, if you feel like sponsoring a Mark Dippel world tour or record release, I’m all ears…!  Oh, and– Hey, Miller Lite!  Since I have also used your glass bottles on recordings, I’m hitting you up next!

Chapter XIV: How To Safely Shatter Glass In The Name Of Rock And Roll

Rock and roll is supposed to be dangerous… But it doesn’t have to be dangerous to your feet or your car tires!

Many years ago, I wrote and recorded the song “Headache: An Abridged List Of Things That I Don’t Like.”  My recording equipment was (and still is) very low-budget and low-tech, so for “Headache,” as with most of my early-to-mid-era songs, I just recorded it with vocals and acoustic guitar… partially to just get the idea down in a saved form, partially to make it sound the same way it sounds when I play it live, and partially because I had not yet figured out just how crazy I could get with that low-budget, low-tech gear.  The song has been a staple at my shows for years, sometimes being played on guitar, sometimes being played on xylophone, sometimes starting out on one instrument and switching to the other mid-song, sometimes being combined into a medley with a cover of Twisted Sister’s “We’re Not Gonna Take It,”  sometimes including my ad-libbed spoken-word rants before the final chorus comes around, and sometimes even incorporating guest rappers or comedians to come up on stage and add their magic touch to the performance.  Even after this much time, I still think it’s one of my better songs… It’s definitely one of the most fun to play live, and the original version that I recorded was officially released in physical form on my “Mild Agoraphobia” record.

BUT!!!!--- I decided it was time to take this shit up a level.  As I had also recently done with “Coffee On The Floor,” I wanted to make a new-and-improved version of “Headache,” with more layers, more instruments, more excitement.  I used a lot of unconventional percussion on this one-- pots and pans, beer bottles, one of those big-ass plastic water jugs that goes on an office water dispenser, and some weird metal thing that I found in a parking lot.  At some point during the recording of this new version, I decided that, aside from being tapped with mallets, those beer bottles also needed to be shattered in rhythm.

Recording breaking glass was not new territory for me-- I smashed some bottles and light bulbs for the recording of my 2015 song “Insomnia.”  Back when I did that song, I devised a brilliant method for the shattering, which would avoid leaving me with problematic messes to clean up in my garage, and I employed the same tactic for “Headache”… 

I opened both the top and bottom of a large cardboard box, and set up the microphone over the striking zone, as illustrated in the first photo above (exhibit A).  Then I hit the “record” button and threw the bottles down onto the concrete garage floor within the “safety shield” of the box walls.  As you can see from the second photo (exhibit B), once the box is removed from the battleground, the mess is neatly confined to a 20” x 20” well-contained square, for a simple, 30-second sweep-up.  No excessive janitorial work required, no risk of stepping or driving on sharp, damaging pieces of broken glass.

Before I recorded the glass-breaking for “Insomnia,” I knew my containment system would work, but I didn’t tell my wife about the idea until after the recording was already done, because I figured she would probably tell me not to do it.  Similarly, one Christmas when I was preparing to grill steaks for the two of us, I realized that I was out of lighter fluid, so I decided to pour gasoline on the charcoal in order to get the flame going… I also did not tell her that I was doing that until after the 5-story-high fire was already lit.  In both cases, I later found out definitively that, yes, she would have indeed told me not to do either of those things.  But true, heartfelt rock and roll carries with it a certain obligation to rebellion, right?  Anyway, for this shattering session on “Headache,” I again did not tell her about it beforehand, but for a different reason this time.  I knew that I had proven myself competent the first time around, so she would not have objected to me doing it again (or, maybe she would have), but I just wanted to keep the contents of the song secret until after she heard the finished product.

Proof that you can pound out some ass-kicking rock and roll, while still being a responsible citizen, capable of cleanliness and organization.

Chapter XIII: The Pains And The Joys Of Songwriting (Part 4)

For the last several weeks, I’ve been working intensely on a new song.  To my own disbelief, the process this time around has been much smoother and less stressful than my typical songwriting project… somehow, this one has been a much different experience every step of the way.  I wanted to write down some of my thoughts and feelings about this particular musically creative adventure while they were still current and fresh in my mind, even though the song isn’t completely finished yet.

The initial inspiration struck me at a time when I was excessively pissed off.  True, most of my songs are written under the influence of anger, so that part isn’t exactly surprising.  Ironically, however, my Halloween songs about the murdering of numerous innocent victims were always written while in a fun, silly mindset.  Call me a sociopath if you must, but I’m comfortable and confident in my mental state.  Actually, that statement might just reinforce the “sociopath” argument… 

As the idea hit me, while at my angriest stage of this entire project (so far), I grabbed my notebook and started writing the first barrage of thoughts that were coming to mind.  Typically, this primary step of songwriting for me is very vague and unstructured… I always write down some basic concepts, some rhyming words that I enjoy, and some general rhythmless comments that are more like journal entries rather than song lyrics.  Putting the best pieces of my ramblings together into a more structured form with a specific number of beats per line comes later.  This time, though, I was magically able to just open the notebook and immediately write several lines of instantly finalized lyrics, fully structured in groups of 4 lines with 8 beats per line, having properly accented syllables within the rhythm, AND everything was naturally rhyming.  It almost felt like it was falling out of me, in completed form… like my subconscious had already written everything, and my hand was just catching up to what my brain had already done without me even knowing about it.  For every finished song I have, there have probably been 20 that I started and abandoned, because I didn’t like where they were going, I couldn’t get them to work the way I wanted, or I realized that they were flat-out just not good ideas.  So, having thrown away FAR more songs than I have finished, it takes quite a bit of time and effort working on a new one before I can start believing that it will be good enough to complete.  THIS one, however, was a sure thing right from the second my pen hit the paper.  I knew right away that I would be able to turn it into a full song.  I’ve never had this easy of a start to my creative process.  Encouraging!  Exciting!

After the first few days of highly productive writing, I was suddenly in a much better and more peaceful mood, and had somewhat temporarily gotten past a lot of what had pissed me off in the first place.  I wanted to keep the ideas flowing, though, since I had been on such a hot streak.  So, I attempted essentially the opposite of meditation-- I sat quietly, closed my eyes, and mentally focused as hard as I could on all of the specific events that had fueled my inspirational anger, blocking out all positive (and neutral) thoughts and everything else around me.  I felt the tension rising, I felt the bitterness coming back, I felt the fire rekindling.  It worked!  I had successfully pissed myself off and gotten back into the zone that I needed in order to write more lyrics!  Maybe it’s not the healthiest way to write, but ending up with a new song that I really like IS a healthy accomplishment, so, the way I see it, the good outweighs the bad!

I never completely get rid of anything that I write-- even when I start a song that I realize is terrible, or if I just write down a random thought that crosses my mind, I leave it in my notebooks, just in case.  And more than once, that strategy has paid off... There have been multiple times in the past when I have been writing a new song, got stuck on a line, and flipped back through old pages of my notebooks to find an old abandoned lyric that now suddenly worked when it didn’t before.  It paid off this time, too.  I was trying to write a bridge, and couldn’t figure out exactly what it needed to say in order to smoothly transition from the verses into the chorus.  After fighting with it for a couple days and not getting anywhere, I decided to look back at some old scribblings from the past.  I started looking at some of the unused ideas that I wrote while working on my previous song, “Option A Or Option B,” and I found the perfect fit-- a two-line segment that said what needed to be said, and also provided a springboard for how I wrote the last two lines of the bridge.  Swish!-- Another obstacle conquered!

Once I started writing the music to go along with these venomous lyrics, the chords and melody for the verses fell into place really quickly, as I switched back and forth between guitar and piano, to see what worked for this song.  That part doesn’t surprise me, since I always write music much faster than I write lyrics.  The music for the bridge and chorus took a bit more effort-- I was still ironing out some of the words to those sections.  But, figuring out the music part of the equation helped me to figure out how the lyrics needed to be adjusted, and on my third session of work on the music, I had a firmly established verse, bridge, and chorus melody with chords.  I played the shit over and over and over and OVER AND OVER, making sure that I liked it, making sure that it worked well, making sure that I wasn’t accidentally ripping off someone else’s song, and committing it to memory.  I determined that it passed all of my tests, so this was a very satisfying place to take a break.  I hung it up and kicked back to chill for the remainder of the evening… 

Or at least, I TRIED to chill for the remainder of the evening.  Until the time I fell asleep, I had the music stuck in my head on repeat NON FUCKING STOP.  Then, every time I woke up during the night (I tend to wake up several times every night), the melody immediately popped into my mind again and stayed there until I fell back to sleep.  Then, when I was awoken by the alarm clock, the goddamn melody was the very first thing that I thought about.  Throughout my entire morning of getting ready for work, I still could not stop playing and replaying that melody in my head incessantly.  This is nothing unusual-- it happens to me every time I get to this step in writing a new song.  So, I took the same course of action that I always take to combat the situation-- I knew I had to pick a CD to play on my commute that was catchy enough to push my own song out of my head and make me think about something else for a while… something that would make me want to sing along with every track and force my brain to sharply change directions.  I went with Jim Croce “Photographs & Memories.”  Perfect choice.  I had his greatest hits stuck in my head all day after that morning drive.

I still have a bit of touching up that I need to do on a couple lyrics here and there, and I need to figure out a couple of transitional details between sections, but that’s all very minor stuff-- the hard part is DONE!  And with so much less frustration than what it normally is.  I guess if I get pissed off enough, everything just clicks.  Pretty soon, I’ll be ready to start the recording of this thing… and that will be a whooooooole different mess of struggle and obsession… another story for another time… !

—————

[***Note: This song ended up becoming “The Recipe.”]

Chapter XII: Unplanned Soundtracks (Part 1)

It’s easy to actively construct a memorable soundtrack to everyday life… Put on a favorite album while on a road trip, at parties, on a first date, etc.  It’s only natural to want to play some beloved tunes while having a great time, and then to forever associate the experience with the accompanying music.  What I find more fascinating, though, is when the music portion of the equation is completely outside of one’s control, yet still becomes an essential, intertwined part of a lasting memory.  Even more fascinating than that is when the experience alters one’s opinion of that particular song, for better or for worse.  There have been so many songs about which I had a relatively neutral opinion, but hearing them in just the right situation made me suddenly either love them or hate them.  I have also had many songs that I already liked, which grew on me even more when unexpectedly heard under perfect circumstances (Thankfully, however, I have never had a negative experience ruin a previously-liked song for me).

A couple months ago, a new liquor store opened close to my house.  I have been inside it three times, and TWO of the times I was in there, a Steve Miller Band song was playing on their radio.  The first visit, it was “Take The Money And Run,” and the second visit, it was “Jet Airliner.”  I have liked both of those songs since I was a little kid, but something about Steve Miller playing in a liquor store multiple times just felt… PERFECT… I swear I think I like them even more now.  The combined experiences of shopping for beer and hearing those songs have somehow glued themselves together in my mind, and from here on, the Steve Miller Band is now forever going to be “liquor store music” to me.  I think the fact that it was two different songs by the same band also made it more notable than if it had just been the exact same song twice… like it became more of a statement about the place’s atmosphere and attitude… “In here, we listen to Steve Miller, goddammit!”  The other trip to that store, I heard a Lynyrd Skynyrd song, which is totally fitting, along with that same Classic Rock vibe, but since I only heard them once, it didn’t have the same impact.

I want to go back to that same store again the next time I need beer… mostly because I can get to it without having to drive on any of the super-shitty, overcrowded streets in my area, but there is another part of me that is drawn to it simply because I want to know what song I might hear when I go.  If I walk in there the next time and hear “The Joker,” I am seriously going to flip the fuck out.

Chapter XI: An Exit To Eternal Summer Slacking (Well, Three Months Of Summer Slacking, Anyway)

As previously established in my earlier article about discovering Incubus, I clearly was not the most enthusiastic or dedicated college student.  So, no one will be surprised by another tale involving my prioritization of recreational music listening over college studies.

May of 1999… Indiana University in Bloomington, Indiana… I decided to take summer classes that year in order to get college over and done with, permanently.  By August, I would be done forever.  What was even better, though, was that I just needed to fulfill the remaining required credit hours with literally ANYTHING THE FUCK I WANTED TO TAKE.  I was done with all of the classes specifically necessary for my particular major, but I still had to get in a few more credits, for the sake of numbers.  So, I basically just needed to exist for another semester.  And, you can probably guess what that meant-- a whole list of easy-as-fuck classes that demanded zero effort from me… 

Introductory Geography-- Essentially a fourth-grade science class that was only offered for the sake of the jocks on athletic scholarships.  My wife (girlfriend at the time) and I were both in this class, and we were both the only people in the class possessing any kind of clue at all, including the instructor.  He graded on a curve, which was utterly absurd, given the elementary level of the material, but because my wife and I obliterated the curve on every assignment and test, he actually set the curve based on the third-highest score in the class.

Intro To Creative Writing-- For basically my entire life, I had always done creative writing for fun, so this was a breeze.  I will say, though, that it was a very enjoyable course.  There were some really cool people in my class, I had a good time writing the stories and poems that I turned in for my assignments, and the teacher was great.  He looked AND sounded like Samuel L. Jackson, and he had so much appreciation for everyone’s efforts.

Intro To 3-D Art-- Despite having a pompously full-of-shit teacher, I did really enjoy this class.  Again, some pretty cool people in there with me, and I had a lot of fun working on the art projects.  I lost points on some of my grades strictly because I didn’t have pretentious, phony, asshole meanings behind the work that I did, but, fuck it-- it was an easy credit to fulfill, which was the whole point.  So, I win.

Introductory Pottery-- The teacher was brain-dead, but who cares?… Pottery is fun to do, and it was another easy way to fulfill my credit hours.  My favorite project from this class was my sumo wrestler sculpture, which I still proudly display decoratively in my house.

Obviously, this course load left me with a LOT of free time.  At the beginning of the summer, I had just discovered the magic of “Crash Bandicoot” on Playstation.  So, when I wasn’t in “class,” I was playing the absolute shit out of that game.  Since the sound effects and music of the game are not essential to an excelling performance in any way, I always turned the TV volume off and listened to CDs while I played.

I always had my diverse array of bands/albums/genres that could make their way into my CD player unpredictably at any given moment, but throughout that semester, there were three albums that completely dominated my daily playlist.  Three albums that were on constant rotation, one after another, all summer long, while I incessantly video gamed.  Three albums that owned me every bit as much as I owned them:

Red Hot Chili Peppers  “Californication”

Limp Bizkit  “Significant Other”

Smash Mouth  “Astro Lounge”

All of them still instantly transport me back to that particular summer session, every time I hear them.  It was both the stupidest and the greatest semester of college that I ever had.

In those days, “midnight sales” every Monday night were still a regular event at most record stores.  New music was always released on Tuesdays, and so, the night before, as soon as the time hit 12:00, it was technically Tuesday, and new releases were legally able to be sold.  I made midnight trips to either The Den or Streetside Records for all of these albums that defined my “Summer Of 1999” (yes, it deserves to be capitalized).

I did make an effort to avoid the self-imposed requirement of attending a midnight sale for Red Hot Chili Peppers… In my pottery class on the Monday before its release, we had the local radio station playing while we sculpted.  They announced a contest in which the tenth caller would win a free copy of “Californication.”  So, I walked out of class to go find a phone elsewhere in the building, in my attempt to win the contest.  I didn’t win, but, no harm in trying-- the teacher didn’t even notice that I left the room anyway.

So, that was basically the final chapter of my college career… running Crash Bandicoot’s ass off while rocking out to the Chili Peppers, Limp Bizkit, and Smash Mouth.  Over and over and over and over and over and over.  Every once in a while, go to a super-cake class.  How in the hell could this semester ever actually count as college credit?  I kept feeling like I would eventually get “caught” or “found out,” and be told that none of those classes counted, and that I would have to start the semester again, with REAL classes this time.

Actually, I did also work part-time that summer, but that job was equally as undemanding as my course load was-- I worked at the ill-fated Hills department store, soon to be bought out by the ill-fated Ames department store.  I had a truly amazing group of co-workers, and since everyone knew that the store was closing down due to the buy-out, no one (including management) gave a fuck about anything.  A ridiculously lengthy list of pranks, jokes, and hijinks grew longer every time I clocked in, and since there were no expectations of any form of responsibility, going to work essentially felt like I was just going to hang out with my buddies.  How in the hell could I ever actually be getting PAID for this?

Seems like all this was an entirely different lifetime ago.  It’s hard to believe that it was even real… almost like it was a temporary alternate dimension.  And those beloved albums will forever remind me of the three solid months in which I was able to give the double middle-fingers to all of reality.  I have always deeply loved Prince, but if you ever ask me to party like it’s 1999, I’m throwing on “Californication,” “Significant Other,” and “Astro Lounge.”

Chapter X: Top Ten (or so) Albums Of 2020

As the author of an ongoing series of articles devoted to music obsession, it was essentially mandatory (at least, in my mind) that I put together my own “top 10 albums of 2020” list.  I was quite well prepared going into this project, though-- All year long, I kept a list of new albums that I enjoyed, in order to make the year-end evaluation easier, and also to ensure that I didn’t forget to include any of my favorites from the early months of the year.

So, here it is (with a few notes/explanations/disclaimers at the end) -- 

1 Mr. Bungle  “The Raging Wrath Of The Easter Bunny Demo”

2 Kansas  “The Absence Of Presence”

3 Green Day  “Father Of All Motherfuckers”

4 Lettuce  “Resonate”

5 Monophonics  “It’s Only Us”

6 Body Count  “Carnivore”

7 Dee Snider  “For The Love Of Metal: Live!”

8 John Petrucci  “Terminal Velocity”

9 Kidbug  “Kidbug”

10 Bootsy Collins  “The Power Of The One”

11 Kylie Minogue  “Disco”

12 The 1975  “Notes On A Conditional Form”

13 AC/DC  “Power Up”

14 Ceelo Green  “Ceelo Green Is Thomas Callaway”

15 Ghost Funk Orchestra  “An Ode To Escapism”

I had to break a few of my own longstanding, self-imposed rules in order to compile a properly accurate top 10 list of my favorite albums of the year.  Whenever I assemble any kind of “favorite albums” list, I never permit albums comprised of previously available material, whether it be re-recordings, live performances, greatest hits, or other such collections.  

HOWEVER… When considering which single album provided me the most exciting sonic enjoyment during this past year, nothing could compete with Mr. Bungle.  At first, it’s seemingly ineligible, because it’s an album of newly-recorded versions of some demos that were originally written in the mid-80s.  In partial defense of its inclusion on my list, though, the songs were not widely available in their original form.  So, yes, it’s a bit of a cheat, but bending the rules to include it felt more honest and true to the spirit of the list than eliminating it would have been.

Admittedly, though, shit gets REALLY shady with the inclusion of the Dee Snider live album.  This one is definitely an even bigger cheat than Mr. Bungle… new live performances of songs that have been well-known and easily available for years.  But, I had already broken the rules once, so I figured, might as well go ahead and break them again.  And, dammit… it’s just such a fun album to listen to-- It HAD to go on the list!

In an effort to help offset the crimes committed, I did stretch the “top 10” list out to a “top 12” list, so that it would still contain 10 albums that legally qualified for the ranking while following all of the established rules.  You might argue that adding two more spots to the list is just cheating even more and breaking the rules yet again… and, you’re right.  But then stretching it out farther to make it an even “top 15” list… well, there’s just no justification for that.  That was a straight-up dishonest move, but it was all in the name of sharing the love of great music.  So, where’s the harm?

Chapter IX: Christmas Music! (Part 1)

November 1st.  Time to put away the Halloween stuff… and it’s the start of Christmas season!  Well, at least, that’s how it works in my house.  My wife and I are both completely crazy about Christmas… the decorations, lights, gifts, cookies, parties, movies, and music.  Christmas music sparks the warmest sensation of festivity and nostalgia inside me… I love thinking about grade school classes letting out for the year, and how the building excitement made those last few days before Christmas pass by so slowly.  I love thinking about flipping through the Sears Wish Book for the 600th time, and how it magically continued to be an action-packed thrill ride, despite the excessive repetition (and despite the fact that there were really only about 5 of its 200 pages that even contained items I would want).  I love thinking about lying in bed wide awake on Christmas Eve night, squirming with hyperactive anticipation, wondering what kinds of presents may be waiting for me in the morning (well, let’s be perfectly honest here… I still kinda do that a little bit).  And, in more recent history, I love the modern traditions, memories, jokes, and stories that my wife and I have created for ourselves over the years… decorating our house, shopping for each other’s presents, watching our annual list of mandatory Christmas movies, going to see the lights at the zoo, and so much more, all with an endless stream of Christmas tunes playing in the background.

I considered the notion of assembling a “top 10” list of favorite Christmas songs or albums, but that’s just too difficult, for several reasons.  So instead, I wanted to just reflect on the memories of the one record that has meant the most to me every holiday season, for essentially my entire life.  The one record that sonically sums up everything that I love about Christmas, every time I hear it--  The Ventures: “The Ventures’ Christmas Album”

This is my absolute favorite Christmas album, and it even rose above existing solely in the “Christmas” genre and landed a spot on my “all-time favorite albums ever” list, coming in at number 37.  As a little kid, I discovered it in my dad’s record collection.  I knew who the Ventures were already, from hearing their pop hits on oldies radio stations since birth, so I was interested in checking out their Christmas album.  It was not in very good shape-- the inner sleeve was missing, and the jacket was only connected on the spine and the bottom, as the top edge had been split all the way across.  The record itself was pretty scratched up and noisy, but it played all the way through, except for one minor flaw that made the needle do a quick jump every time.  The poor condition of the vinyl and the jacket was pretty uncharacteristic of my dad’s collection.  He took good care of his records, but he did have a few junkier ones that he said had first either belonged to one of his other family members or to a family friend (including a copy of The Beatles’ “White Album” that disturbingly had someone’s name written on the cover and was inexcusably missing the second disc).  This Ventures LP was one that was not originally his.  But, fueled by the constant desire to always hear more music, and also by the excitement of the Christmas season, I had to check this thing out.  I was instantly in love with it on first listen.  Lively, upbeat, and energetic, and it was completely different from all of the other Christmas records in his collection.  It was an immediate favorite.  I gave that top edge a nice tape job all the way across to close it up, because I wanted the album to be as protected as possible, and I wanted to make sure that it was getting the proper amount of love that it deserved.  During grade school, I took it with me a couple times when students had the opportunity to bring in Christmas records to play in class.  Once I got older and bought myself a copy of this album on CD, I remembered exactly where that needle jump on my dad’s record always happened, and thought about it every time I played the disc.  After I got my own turntable, I was ecstatic to find a vinyl copy of it at Vinyl Rescue Project in Greenwood.

On Christmas morning, my wife and I have a very long, drawn-out present-opening ceremony.  We start out making coffee and waffles (relatively quickly after the coffee is gone, I switch to Miller Lite).  As we open presents, we share stories about shopping for each other, we have wrapping paper wars, we bury the pets in paper, and we play Christmas music.  The Ventures’ record is always part of the festivities, bringing back old memories and becoming tied to new ones at the same time.

As I get older, I think this album keeps getting better and better.  I can’t imagine Christmas without it.  Actually, I don’t think Christmas would even be allowed to come to my house at all without it.  The Ghosts Of Christmas Past, Present, and Future could have saved a lot of effort on Scrooge if they had just played the Ventures for him… no time traveling, no running around all over town-- Those holly jolly surf guitars would have had him in the holiday spirit before side one was even over.

Chapter VIII: The Best S.C.I.E.N.C.E. Class I Ever Took

Incubus “S.C.I.E.N.C.E.” -- number 16 on my “all-time favorite albums” list.  Discovering this one was a combination of good luck, musical instinct, and defiant spending.

I was at Indiana University, in the school bookstore, purchasing my hundreds of dollars worth of pointless books for the upcoming semester.  Aside from IU textbooks and the standard school/office supplies, the bookstore also carried a small selection of CDs.  And, come on, how can a true music dork resist picking up something new at any place that sells music?

It was the late 90s, and being a metalhead for many years already, I was stoked about the rising resurgence of metal that had recently begun.  I was NOT stoked, however, about having to start another semester of classes that did not interest me, to inadequately prepare me for an uncertain future that I wasn’t ready to consider.  After locating the required books that I would never actually read, I headed to the music section to see what CDs they had.  It’s actually amazing that I picked up my books BEFORE checking out the music department.

While meticulously browsing every single title in the CD section with more dedication than I would ever put forth in my actual college classes, I came across a very intriguing item… Incubus “S.C.I.E.N.C.E.”  I had never heard of this band, but something about the album cover just spoke to me and gave me a good vibe.  I also noticed the Immortal Records logo on the back, which indicated that it was most likely going to be something straight up my alley.  I figured, hey, I’m already spending 320 bucks on bullshit... why not make it 335 bucks?  So, I added it to my pile and headed for the checkout.

Turns out, that 15 dollar CD did more for me than any of the books or classes that I remember nothing about.  I got back to my dorm room, disgustedly dropped the books, excitedly opened the Incubus CD, and stuck it in my player.  HOLY SHIT!  This was incredible!  I was blown away by the sound, the diversity, the energy, and the quirky, wordy lyrics.  I had never heard anything like this, and I still have never heard anything quite like it.  Even other Incubus albums can’t really be compared to this one.  At the time, I was not yet writing songs, but once I started songwriting and began developing my style, it’s a certainty that the energetic, densely lyrical style of this album played a part in influencing my own voice.

I couldn’t tell you a goddamn thing about the classes I took that semester, but I can tell you that, even 20+ years later, I still get a rush of excitement and adrenaline every single time I put this album on.  Not only does it continue to aggressively kick me in the ass, but it gives me that fun, nostalgic memory of a very specific and very brief time period… not a kid anymore, but not quite an adult yet.

Chapter VII: I Think I Hear A Voice… It’s Outside The Door…

As deeply as I love horror movies, haunted houses, and all manner of frightening fun nowadays, it’s so hard to believe that I used to be a total scaredy-cat chicken-shit when I was a little kid.  Somewhere along the line, probably during middle school, I did a complete flip.  I suddenly loved all things warped, demented, and terrifying.  No idea what sparked such a dramatic change in me, but I’m sure glad it happened.

I think the seeds for my passion for the macabre were planted during infancy, and possibly even before birth, due to the inclusion of Alice Cooper’s “Welcome To My Nightmare” album in my dad’s record collection.  It’s one of those albums that I have no memory of ever NOT knowing front-to-back.

I remember hearing it as a toddler.  I remember liking it as a toddler.  And I remember it scaring the fuck out of me as a toddler.  Somehow, even though it scared me (which wasn’t hard to do back then), I still loved it.  I guess I was able to cope with fear when the horror was delivered to me through musical means.  Granted, not all of the tracks were scary.  “Escape,” “Only Women Bleed,” and “Department Of Youth” are harmless and not threatening (although still great songs).  BUT--- holy shit, was I terrified of “Years Ago” and “Steven.”  Even though they caused me plenty of sleepless nights lying in bed, watching the door, fearing what might be walking into my room at any minute, I still enjoyed listening to the record and always looked forward to hearing it again.

Some of the other songs didn’t scare me quite as badly as those two, but still made me feel somewhere between “uncomfortable” and “nervous”--  “The Awakening,” “Devil’s Food,” “The Black Widow,” and the title track all made me uneasy, but still couldn’t chase me away from listening to the album again and again.

In 2007, I made the decision that, since Halloween is every bit as great of a holiday as Christmas is, it should have its own designated songs to celebrate the season, just like Christmas does.  So, I took the responsibility upon myself to begin writing “Halloween carols,” intended to honor the sacred holiday.  “The Shed” was the first of my creations… basically horror movie lyrics set to music.  I kept writing about one a year after that for a while, gradually adding “The Basement,” “Three Weeks,” “The Backyard,” “Hunger,” and “Even More Fascinating” to my catalog (in that order).  All done in good, silly fun, to try to capture and enhance the Halloween spirit.  The “Welcome To My Nightmare” album clearly played the biggest role in influencing this alternate musical tangent that I would occasionally explore.  Pull up these songs on my Soundcloud page if you feel like taking in some evil, creepy fun.  And then give Alice’s “Nightmare” album a listen, because it’s a straight-up classic, and it’s what first started me down that road to twisted darkness.

Thank you, Alice Cooper, for scaring the piss out of me as a child-- because it scared the piss out of me in a way that inspired my imagination and creativity.  I can only hope that my scary songs are also keeping someone else out there awake at night in terror, just like 3-year-old me, shaking in my bed, begging for daylight to come.

Chapter VI: Didn’t Know I Was Looking For It, But I Found It

My first exposure to Ben Folds Five was during the 1997 H.O.R.D.E. Festival (damn, I miss the era of the traveling, single-day music fests).  I had heard the band name before (probably from my constant analyzing of every item in every record store I visited), but I had no idea who they were or what they sounded like.  My wife (girlfriend at the time) and I were strolling back and forth between both stages at the festival, just to check out at least a little bit of every act, to see what everything was, and to hopefully discover something new and exciting.

It was still pretty early in the day… mid-afternoon… and we were heading to the second, smaller stage where the lesser-known bands played.  The schedule said that the next act on that stage was Ben Folds Five (this was just a few months before “Brick” was released as a single, so they were not yet a household name).  I had no idea what to expect, but I was open-minded and ready to learn about a band I had never heard.  They opened their set with “One Angry Dwarf And 200 Solemn Faces.”  I have NEVER in my life become such a hardcore fan of ANY band as quickly as I became a diehard Ben Folds Five fan that day.  It didn’t even take a full minute into this first song, and I was absolutely blown away like I never had been before, and actually never have been since.  The energy, the musicianship, the melody, the lyrics, everything… I immediately knew that this was huge for me.  I couldn’t believe how much I was affected by a live performance of a band that I didn’t even know.  I was fully aware that I was already a lifelong fan.

Naturally, the first opportunity I had after that show, I headed straight for the music store and bought one of their CDs (“Whatever And Ever Amen,” their second album).  As one might also expect, it wasn’t long after that when I bought their self-titled album, too.  What I heard on the stage smacked me right in the face, and I knew right away that it was something I would love forever, but once I had the CDs, I was able to listen closely and repeatedly, and to fully digest everything… That’s when it all sank in really deeply, and I became even more amazed with the skill that was put into every song.  It was the most perfect combination of strong, memorable melodies and witty, unique lyrics.

Ben Folds as a songwriter has unquestionably been the number one influence on my own songwriting.  Attention-grabbing melodies and lyrics are the things that I most enjoy when listening to music, and I approach every song I write with the goal of incorporating both.  Ben showed me, more than anyone, how well the two can be fused together.

Chapter V: Many Years, Many Spins

There are so many obscure, indescribable factors that played into the creation of my “best albums ever” list.  I could never come close to explaining it all, and I don’t think I could come close to even understanding it all myself.  Any album that I consider to be great just sparks a wildly various combination of feelings and thoughts in me that somehow all glue themselves together to become one enormous, abstract emotion.  And that fully-formed, multi-layered mass of brain function is even harder to describe in words than each individual component of the whole mess is.  Plus, with so many fantastically brilliant albums out there, it’s a lot of information to process and ponder when narrowing it down to the BEST of the best.  To then rank them in order requires another deeper level of intangible evaluation.  What makes one album better than the next?  How do I compare my reactions to so many different albums when the reaction itself defies description?  Despite all of these questions that have no answers, and all of these emotions that have no definition, in my head, it still somehow makes perfect sense.

So, in my #1 slot, I have the Spin Doctors “Pocket Full Of Kryptonite.”  Since I know that I can never accurately explain the reasons why, I want to talk about some of my history with it.

When I was in high school, one of my uncles gave me the CD for Christmas, along with The Who “Who’s Next.”  He knew that I wanted the Spin Doctors, but just took a chance on putting The Who along with it.  And, goddamn, that was a slam-dunk!  I was familiar with The Who, but not that particular album.  I fell in love with it immediately and intensely, and I still love it today.  And then there was the Spin Doctors.  On first listen, I liked it a lot.  It’s poppy, it’s catchy, it’s witty, it’s fun.  I already knew the two big hits, of course, and the rest of the album was also really enjoyable.  The CD made its way into my player in pretty frequent rotation, always thoroughly satisfying.

Over time, I realized that for years, I had been listening to it more often than most of the other stuff in my collection.  I think that realization prompted me to start listening to it even harder and with more fascination, trying to understand and analyze the grip that it had on me.  Somehow, I kept loving it more and more, every time I heard it.  I think it was maybe shortly after college when I finally figured out that it had to be one of my favorite albums ever made.

In the summer of 2005, I got my first chance to see them play live, at the Indianapolis rib fest, just a few weeks before they released their “Nice Talking To Me” album.  It was a BLAST-- I drank a lot of overpriced beer, ate a severely unhealthy amount of pulled pork, and watched the reunited classic lineup deliver a killer performance, packed with songs that I had loved for more than a decade.  They also threw a few songs from the upcoming album into the set, too, which I instantly loved.  Right away, I started a countdown to the release date so that I could buy it within seconds of its availability.  It was probably right around this time when I definitively settled on the decision that “Pocket Full Of Kryptonite” was not only “one of my favorite albums,” but was indeed my #1 all-time favorite album, period.

I got my second opportunity to see them live in 2019… at ANOTHER rib fest!  This time, in Kalamazoo, Michigan.  The fine folks at Joyful Noise Recordings gifted me and my wife with two VIP passes to the show… We had front-row seating (in the SHADE), our own exclusive beer tent that the lowly general-admission ticket-purchasers could not enter, a handful of free food tickets, and access to air-conditioned bathrooms in a fancy trailer (as opposed to the revolting port-a-potties used by the peasants in the regular seating).  Ooh la la-- Livin’ LARGE, motherfuckers!  And this show was even better than the first one— I drank a lot of very reasonably-priced beer, ate a comfortably filling amount of pulled pork, and watched the still-united classic lineup deliver a killer performance, packed with songs that I had loved for almost three decades.  Certainly one of my favorite overall concert experiences that I’ve ever had.

Bonus: I was in desperate need of some kind of fun weekend break away from reality anyway, when this super-cool gift happened.

Double bonus: I briefly met the bass player after their show ended.

[This next portion has nothing to do with the Spin Doctors themselves, but is still extremely important and relevant, in order to emphasize the awesomeness of the entire Kalamazoo weekend. --> The Spin Doctors performance was on a Saturday, but we went up on Friday, because the same rib fest also had Everclear playing that first night.  Those guys knew exactly what songs the audience wanted to hear, so that’s exactly how they filled their set (I was particularly stoked that they played their song from the “Romeo + Juliet” soundtrack).  Also on that Friday, for reasons completely unknown and bafflingly illogical, the main beer tent decided to GIVE thousands of gallons of beer away for free, to anyone who approached the counter and asked for it.  Needless to say, this meant that I would be getting two at a time for the remainder of the evening.]

Any time I wake up having a rough morning, not really ready to start a workday, possibly in a shitty mood, or having not slept well, I put on “Pocket Full Of Kryptonite” in the car for my commute.  It helps at least a little bit, every single time.  And, it’s SO easy to sing along with the entire thing.  Every song is perfectly within the comfort zone of my vocal range.  If I haven’t gotten sick of this album by now, I’m positive there’s no way I ever will.

-------

Number 2 on my “favorite albums” list is Meat Loaf “Bat Out Of Hell.”  Really, it runs neck-and-neck with the Spin Doctors, nearly sharing the top spot.  But, even though they are so unbelievably close to being equal to my ears, “Kryptonite” always comes out on top, just barely.  I don’t know why.  I will never know why.  But it still makes sense to me, in some thoroughly illogical way.

Chapter IV: Naughty, Naughty

PARENTAL ADVISORY!!!  EXPLICIT LYRICS!!!  Oooooh, so threatening!  So sinister!  So forbidden!  So enticing to a young kid shopping for music!  During the late 80s and early 90s, when the controversy over censorship and obscenity in music was so hot, I was the perfect age for it... old enough that my tastes were expanding and maturing, yet young enough that I felt like I was getting away with something really wild when I acquired a tape or CD with the dreaded warning label plastered on the front.  The excitement of new, challenging discoveries combined with the excitement of immature pseudo-rebellion... all in one big bombardment of overstimulation every time I walked into a record store.

I can’t remember whether my first “parental advisory” cassette purchase was L.L. Cool J “Bigger And Deffer” or Warrant “Cherry Pie”... They both made it into my collection right around the same time (side note: I still love that Warrant album!).  I do remember, however, that when I bought the L.L. Cool J tape, I used some seriously slick moves.  I mean, I was playing it coooool.  Check THIS out: When showing my family the item I was about to purchase, I strategically and brilliantly placed my thumb over the warning label, to hopefully prevent my selection from being vetoed.  I was a little bit tense waiting through the 45-second cash register transaction, because there was still a chance for my diabolical plan to fall apart.  So many things could derail my efforts... an observant parent, a tattle-tale store employee, my own awkward behavior...  But, thanks to my ingenuity, my suave demeanor, and a teaspoon of good fortune, I pulled it off!  The tape was mine, and safely concealed in the opaque bag!  Oh man, I was a wizard that day.  Nobody anywhere had ever come up with such a crafty scheme like I had just constructed.  And my fascination with that black and white warning was immediately operating at full throttle.  

I always preferred the “printed-onto-the-cover” version over the sticker version, though... It felt like an essential and permanent part of the artwork (even though several artists complained that it was interfering with the actual artwork).  

Even now, decades later and several hundred “parental advisory” purchases later, I still get a touch of childish amusement any time I buy an album with a warning label on the front.  It takes me back to that classic feeling of early teenage deviance, and also, on a more mature note, back to my very favorite era of music in general.  I made sure to put the warning label on my own records that I have released, too, because:

1.  I hope that I can provide that same nostalgic thrill to anyone who looks at them and happens to be as dorky as I used to be (OK, as dorky as I still AM).  And, 

2.  Largely just for my own enjoyment.  It’s an extra element of fun to throw into my work, and fun is what music is supposed to be all about.

So, thank you to all the tight-ass parents out there whose hissy fits about profanity prompted the creation of the “parental advisory” label.  You made music listening and collecting even MORE fun for me!  And guess what... Your little brats still heard all those cuss words anyway.

Chapter III: The Pains And The Joys Of Songwriting (Part 1)

A constant part of the stressful, obsessive, repetitive, time-consuming, exhausting, and repetitive songwriting process is trying to make sure that I’m not accidentally ripping off a melody from someone else’s song.  Every time I get to the music-writing portion of a song I’m working on, I spend days, or even weeks, with the melody I’ve written playing on constant repeat in my head, analyzing the fuck out of it, trying to make absolutely certain that I haven’t stolen it from somewhere else.  During this stage of the songwriting, I lose a lot of sleep because I can’t stop thinking about the melody while I’m in bed.  I have to periodically take mental breaks from it during the days by listening to other, completely unrelated records and CDs that have nothing in common with my song, so that I can force my brain in a different direction from the near-insanity that I approach.

(Actually, the lyric-writing stage of songwriting also makes me lose sleep and pushes me toward insanity as well, but for different reasons.)

Several years back, I was deep into the writing of a song that I thought was going to be great… I had most of the lyrics, structure, chord progression, and melody well underway.  Then after spending several months working on this project, I suddenly realized, to my horrified frustration, that I had accidentally ripped off part of the melody to the Foo Fighters song “Times Like These.”  I tried to make some changes to the song, to hopefully salvage the whole thing and turn it into something I could still be proud of, while also making sure that I wasn’t stealing anything from another artist.  Unfortunately, it was just not working.  I ended up abandoning the entire thing.

Once, though, a similar situation led to a happy ending, rather than just wasted time and frustration!  I was writing the music for my song “Hindsight Won’t Help Me.”  It was the typical, lengthy, agonizing process, complete with lost sleep, anger, and borderline psychosis.  I was so sure that the melody for the chorus was accidentally stolen, and after days and days of steady mental examination, I figured it out.  It WAS stolen.  It was entirely too similar to the Sister Hazel song “All For You.”  Beaten down because I remembered what happened last time I was in this position, I sadly tried to change some things around to avoid a lawsuit.  I changed the melody line a bit, I changed the chord progression a bit, I made some minor alterations to the lyrics in order to maximize the flow, and how about that--- IT WORKED!  Not only did I succeed in bringing this song back from the brink of death, I ended up writing a song that I still think is one of my best.  And I haven’t been sued by Sister Hazel yet.

(Side note:  Damn, “All For You” is just SO good!)

Chapter I: Introduction / Top 40 Albums