Vinylcast

Airport free wifi is incredible. I wish for a day when there is free wifi everywhere. Instead of the government bailing out companies who’ve made poor decisions, the government should have taken all of that money, and even the money for the space program (I love the space program, but we can put that on pause for the greater good), and create a public use low orbit satellite wifi service. It’d be on the order of the human genome project, or antibiotics, a worldwide free wifi access, so even if the Chinese wanted to filter out the internet content, they couldn’t. They wouldn’t be able to, because “we” for the greater good of all mankind, wifi’d the planet. I imagine it wouldn’t take but a few years to do it if we used NASA’s budget.

We should wire the planet with wireless!

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I’m going on a business trip for roughly 6 months, so my writing on the blog will probably pause during that time. Hopefully, I have a guest writer, Devon, who will make a post or two while I’m away.

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If you have a couple extra $20k lying around, especially in these extra-special economic times, and aren’t busy buying huge LCD’s for every room in your mansion, you could purchase some cassette tapes!  My cassette tapes didn’t have a huge shelf life, nor did my 8-tracks, but apperently you can sell your “vintage” subpop gear for truckloads on Ebay.  Check out this auction of truely crazy crap.  I especially love (pictured here) the cassette with nothing on it.  Maybe I could just bid on the nameless black cassette?  I’ve been looking for nameless black cassettes for a long time, and here it is!

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Thanks to a comment from reader and vinyl bidder Kamikaze (see comments on previous post about Misfits), a Misfits pink-colored Legacy of Brutality album sold on Ebay for $3650.  Kamikaze commented that his bid of $3500 didn’t win.

Kamikaze, if you bid on any other incredible auctions, don’t forget to let us know!  Thanks very much for commenting!

Amazing looking record, and the seller says it is in pristine condition.

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Episode 7!

This episode does not contain any Freddy Fender, although it does contain other, equally horrible music.  Listen at your own discretion.

Because the podango player really totally freaking sucks, I had to go back and delete the posts with previous podcasts.  So, here’s all the back episodes:

Episode 6!

Episode 5!

Episode 4!

Episode 3!

Episode 2!

Episode 1!

Right click the Link and “save as”, or just click it and listen with your browser’s default player.

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A Misfits album, white colored vinyl, 3 Hits from Hell sold on Ebay (here’s the link) for $809.99 on February 22, 2009.  The seller indicated that there were some small black streaks on the white vinyl which he said was common for white pressings.  He gave all the serial numbers, including PL1013 a-b, and master disk stamp R10261 R10262.  What’s important here, is sometimes we don’t know what a record is actually worth.  We look at reference guides, or look on the internet and find forum posts or what-have-you, where “experts” will tell you what they think a record is worth, but it amounts to a pile of beans unless you can see, like in this auction, the actual transaction after the fact.

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So I started running 3 miles a day.  Well, I’m human, so it’d be more accurate to say I try to run every day.  Further, I try to run 3 miles.  Just kidding, sort of, I mean I’m on week two, and am running consistantly 3 miles, non-stop.  That’s a pretty big achievement for me, I’m usually really easy on myself.  What I mean is, I tend to just give myself a break and stop early.

It’s almost like there’s two of me, the one that wants to acheive a goal, and the one during the hard part that says, it’s ok, you don’t really have to right now; you can do what that over-achieving jerk wants you to do, some other time.  For now, just go grab a beer and eat a donut, screw that other guy and his good ideas.

I tend to talk to myself while running, saying things like:  “you are about to die, you can die any moment, your legs are about to trip if you don’t walk, your arms hurt so that can’t be good, you’re older your heart could go out because you are running so fast, you didn’t drink enough water today you are about to pass out and the treadmill will eat your face off if you don’t walk soon”.  Not quite all at once, but just often enough that it sounds reasonable to a reasonable person; just like the person listenening to the other two - the overachiever and the “you dont want to die today” guy.

This time I decided to kill the slacker with a baseball bat.  Don’t get me wrong, over the last week, as I was working up to 3 miles, I gave in to that guy a few times, once at 1 mile, then at 2 miles, because it was so logical to bargain with him…it was a LOGICAL bargain “you can stop after a mile”, then 2 miles.  Once I ran 3 miles non stop, there was no bargain left for him, except the big bargain - at 3 miles you can stop.

I’m looking at the distance-ometer less and less, today I just HAD to look at 2.3 miles.  Today was also my faster, maybe fastest day, with 3 miles at just about 32 minutes.  Sometimes I had to focus on form, when I felt myself starting to trip - I’d usually stop, but in order to not stop, i.e. not trip, I had to remember I was running, and teach my brain that running is still imperative, therefore, this is how, almost like taking manual control over the mechanisms of running, then quickly release the reigns.

I also found that either heavy metal or documentaries are the best.  Documentaries make me think more than movies, and heavy metal’s drive makes me go.  I just imagine myself as Bruce Dickenson in tights running back and forth to 22 Acacia Street, and wonder, why are they striped?  That’s ghey.

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This guy on Ebay is selling a Nirvana Test Pressing and asking a remarkable $25,000.  The album and seller seem legit, but there are no markings on the record.  That’s the problem with test pressings as collectable albums.  I’d think that that is one of the most readily forgeable collector’s items.  Sometimes test presses have some sort of original artwork, or handwritten serial number, but often it’s like this album, just completely white.  There are no catalog numbers, artwork, or engravings to compare to real releases.  Personally I wouldn’t buy a test pressing unless I could verify the chain of owners to the band or label, it’s just too easy to forge.  Especially if I were willing to part with $25,000 for a record.

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David Byrne And Brian Eno - Everything That Happens Will Happen Today On Limited Edition 180g Vinyl

Not only can you get this on vinyl, but the two artists are streaming from their site for free! Visit www.everythingthathappens.com or, since they’re just that cool, they allow any site to embed the player themselves! That’s way open and free, other artists should take note.

They say it’s the culmination of 30 years of not collaborating, and since I just love both artists, booo!  Oh well, at least we have this now.  The vinyl will be released on Feb 19, for about $20.00.  You can buy a digital only copy for about $9.00, and for $2.00 more they’ll send you a plastic dish.  I say go for the analog!

So here it is, have a listen.

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Last night my wife and I enjoyed a sold-out Black Keys concert in Baltimore.  The Ram’s Head Live at the Power Plant area of downtown Baltimore is a nice venue, but I wish that the whole place were used instead of just half.  It makes the entire population of the venue crunch themselves into half the area, while the max population is calculated for the entire area.

The crowded atmosphere, and the fact that The Black Keys have become more mainstream, made for a few annoying people.  Shirl commented more than once that the people at punk rock shows are nicer than the people at the Black Keys show.  One crowd of friends kept backing into my wife until we just shuffled over beyond a support pole, and then the big six-footed high-and-tight goatee’d individual began encroaching our new found space.

Maryland’s no-smoking law makes for attending concerts nicer, although I did smell a little pot in the distance.  I’d much rather smell that than smoke; a bit odd coming from a past smoker, I suppose.

Once we found our “spot” next to an entire family of two generations of music lovers - much better than goatee’s circle of drunk-jocks, we settled down to enjoy the show.  Drummer Patrick Carney started the show a little demure, but by the end, he seemed on full throttle and was an amazing spectical to watch.

Guitarist Dan Auerbach has a very vulnerable job as the sole melody maker.  He’s almost acapella with only a guitar and his buddy on drums who has no vocal microphones to help in a pinch.  I gladly heard the mistakes, quirks, pops and cracks, and fuzz that embodies The Black Keys.  What makes the Keys so great is their impressionistic approach to music, it’s not supposed to be perfect, it’s perfect within it’s imperfections.  It’s what most musicians would call an underpainting, but put on full display, as if they were two high school kids playing in a garage next door.

Auerbach’s voice was as incredible as it is on record.  The big wall of lights behind them was completely over-the-top, and superbly represented the essence of the Keys while contrasting their modest non-rockstar attitude.  The band took several musical interludes, where they would calm down, then build back to the chorus of the song making the sports bar crowd go completely nuts.  Almost every time, during the big release, I found a nice lump in my throat; a sure sign of great rock and roll.

Shirl summed it up perfectly, one of the best shows ever.

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I watched this amazing documentary on Roky Erickson called, “You’ll Miss Me When I”m Gone”.  I heard the 13th Floor Elevators on the Rollins Radio Show, and I thought, “Wow, these guys are amazing, I’m going to have to get some of their records!”  I thought they were a new band.  I had no idea they were before Joplin (who almost joined the Elevators), Floyd, and everyone else.  They even coined the term psychedelic rock!

So I watched this documentary, and it was clear that he was schizophrenic and his mother was keeping him off the medications and living out a dual psychosis with her sick son.  He would geek out on sending spam mail back to them with odd things like - “Jiffy Lube, thank you for your coupon, please lubricate my car, it is in dire need of lubrication and is approaching critical failure.  Thank you.”

Roky was charged with some marijuana and faced 5 years, but the judge allowed the insanity plea and sent him to a minimum security hospital.  His girlfriend at the time kept breaking him out of the hospital, and eventually they put him in a maximum security hospital where he underwent shock treatments.  After release, he started singing about satan.  HELL YES.  You cannot rock more than that, I’m sorry, you just can’t.  That makes Tony Iomi living the life of a star snorting coke off the mixing board look like a panzy - he didn’t go get shocked into loving satan like Roky!  NOPE.

Now Roky is doing good since his brother went to court and sued for custody, returned him to the meds that he needs, and he’s already guesting on albums and even making a new album with Billy Gibbons from ZZ Top.  I just can’t believe that Roky didn’t become a superstar.  He really should have.  Maybe he will soon.

Everyone should watch this amazing documentary.

Here are some great Youtube clips of Roky:

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Last night, as I was about to fall asleep, I remembered vividly, clearly like a photograph, a place I lived with my father. For a short period of time, maybe a year or so, my father lived very close to the beach in south Florida. We lived in a bungalow, which sounds better than an efficiency, and since it was on the beach, I think it qualifies as the former. Had it been anywhere else, I suppose it should have been called an efficiency.

We informally called it Dog Beach. At Dog Beach were several other bungalow dwellers, among them were Emmit, Major Tom, Dash Riprock, and my father went by Purple. These were names of men, all living a bachelor life, a group of friends with little to no responsibility. I was old enough to go surfing by myself, wander aimlessly, and explore. I needed little care, and that was perfect for both of us.

I loved that place. Behind our bungalow was a maze of dirt roads lined by wild palm, littered with coconuts, and led to my very own private Dog Beach. It was coined Dog Beach for both kinds of bitches. Dog Beach existed in a county pocket, so the local city police had no jurisdiction, only the county sheriff, and his deputies never came through to patrol. That made it a perfect place for dog lovers, and bachelors looking for dog lovers. Well, that and the ability to completely disregard normal partying etiquette.

The bachelors of Dog Beach would build fires on the beach, which was not permitted within the city, by digging a hole a few feet down, starting the fire, then slowly throughout the night the heat would loose the side walls of sand, and by morning the fire would have buried itself. After surfing into sunset, I would walk up the beach and enjoy large pots of clams, cooked over and over, throughout the night. I don’t think I’ve ever eaten that many clams since. They would drink and smoke and talk and tell jokes I was barely able to understand.

Most of the houses and bungalows at Dog Beach had those slat windowed front doors, you know, like the one Scareface cut through with a chainsaw. All the windows in all the houses were always open, except during the most violent storms. Sometimes we’d all get a little wet in a heavy downpour. I remember the smell of living there more than anything else. That smell of rain, salt, humidity, heat, sand, coconut palms, and wild sage.

There was a hippie couple that lived at the corner where the long dirt road met the beach. Their door was always open, and I could hear classic rock and smell incense from inside as I walked by surfboard in hand. One day I stopped by and said hi, in the middle of Hotel California. Actually, it was in the middle of the double guitar solo during Hotel California. They were pleasant, we talked about classic rock and waves and the local radio station, and the latest Dog Beach news – of which there was never a shortage.

….more later…

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With the new year, I hereby issue a vinylcast manifesto. I’ve been doing this blog and podcast over the last six months, and I thought I was going to write to a nitch, you know vinyl lovers are a fairly small community. But the community never really found it, or found it worthwhile, anyway. That’s ok, its actually freeing. In order to write to that nitch, I was bound to that topic area.

Now, shocking my readership of 20, I’m going to change the blog. I mean hey, it’s my blog, right? I considered abandoning it, but I do enjoy making podcasts, and I do enjoy writing. Therefore, I’ll continue to write and make podcasts, but they’ll no longer be tied to vinyl. I’m just going to write. I’m going to release the podcast from it’s vinyl restraints. I still love vinyl, so I think I’ll continue to play records in the podcast, but it will no longer be so constrained.

So, happy New Year, I hope its a good year for you. Make a manifesto to resolve something, save something that you do, revive it, renew it, make it worth keeping. Or don’t, maybe you need to excise something from your life which is holding you back. Either way, jump into this new year with a manifesto of your own.

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One of my favorite stoner bands, Blind Dog, is a real underground band.  Too bad, because it’s one of the best examples of stoner and kyuss style rock that’s just good.  It’s not spectacular, it’s not poor, nothing is over the top.  Sometimes you want a low-key band in the headphones.  You don’t want to be wowed, you need some mellow, good music.

Here’s a tune off the 2001 release, Last Adventures of Captain Dog.

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My parents recently gave me some vinyl, and there were a few treasures in there, but the best one I found was a Hank Williams Japanese pressing of Beyond the Sunset.  The album itself is in good condition with no audible scratches, just a few dust pops.  The jacket has some age, but is still in good condition.

I’ve never seen a Hank Williams Japanese import before, so I was really stoked to add it to my collection.  Plus, as far as country goes, Hank was the man.  He transcended country and was a true rebel.

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From Pitchfork, which has a better description than Relapse Records has:

The set comes in a foil-stamped black box and features Mastodon’s entire recorded catalog spread over nine LPs, from the Lifesblood EP to 2006’s Blood Mountain. This includes their covers of Metallica’s “Orion”, Thin Lizzy’s “Emerald”, and Melvins’ “The Bit”, plus an exclusive live record of their performance at the Relapse Contamination Festival in 2003.

Also exclusive to the package: an embroidered patch with the band’s logo, a vinyl sticker set, and a custom Mastodon turntable mat. The box set is limited to a run of 1,000, so start Black Friday early if you want to guarantee that you get one.

Well, this looks completely badass, and they started selling the limited run just a few days ago, so run and rack up some credit bills and grab this truely legendary release.  Here’s a link, grab it while you can.

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Boston’s first album arrives on Ebay (Here’s the Link) for the astounding price of 50.00.  I am experienced at thrift store vinyl diving, and over the years I’ve picked up probably 15 of these albums.  There’s no need to charge 50.00 for this album, because when stacked up to other “most found” records at the used record store bin, it comes in at a close second to The Flying Burrito Brothers.

This album was epic, and has to be one of the only albums I know of, off hand, which every single song on the album got (and still gets) commercial rock radio airplay.  I wore the album completely through on cassette tape.  I still don’t throw them away when I buy them at the thrift stores, I save them and give them away to friends slowly over time.  It’s always nice to have a few extra records in your collection to give away to friends, there’s no better gift than a big piece of vinyl, just as much as it was really cool in the 1970s.

Vinyl is a gift that is a treasure for a lifetime.  There is no plastic CD case to break, no CD plastic to scratch, no “importing” to your computer with a button.  To import the music to your computer you have to interact with the vinyl, almost remaster the original again.  Sometimes, if you’re halfway decent at recording, your remaster is much better and more dynamic than the CD master.

Anyway, don’t buy the first three Boston albums on Ebay, visit a thrift store, or ask a friend.

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Someone is selling an Iron Maiden Piece of Mind album, (Here’s the link) signed by Adrian Smith, Steve Harris, Nicko McBrain and Dave Murray recently while on “Back Somewhere in Time Tour”, for a buy-it-now price of $250.00. I just don’t know why someone would give away their album, signed by the artists. I just don’t think I’d give mine away. It looks like, since he included the pictures of the actual signing events, he found the artists wandering the streets of New York or something. Piece of Mind was the first album featuring Nicko McBrain.

This must be one of those signings that someone did for the sole purpose of money. It makes me think of ivory. You know, ivory is illegal because it’s so cool, and because something has to die to get it. Well, it’s sort of the same thing, I mean if he were truly a fan, he wouldn’t be selling this, therefore he probably went and got the signatures for the sole purpose of making more money from a single album. That should make it worthless in the same vain as ivory. If I bought the album, not getting the signatures myself, or even knowing who did, not even a chain of “a friend of a friend”, I’m as evil as he is for selling it. It’s a lie as much as ivory is a lie.

I don’t know what I’d say if I saw an album, on someones wall adorned with signatures and asked “whoa, that’s totally awesome, how did you get all these signatures, and were they cool about it?” and the reply was - “I totally bought that on ebay”. At that point I’d realize that he basically funded the guerrilla-signature action of a non-fan bothering these cool artists. I imagine that the guys in Iron Maiden are pretty tired of getting accosted by fans wanting their favorite albums signed, then dudes like this run out and try to make money off their private time. I’m sure that the guys in Iron Maiden would say “hey we’re appreciative of our fans, and glad they still seek out our signatures, but record dealers making money off of our fans is not cool”.

We should, as music fans collectively, NOT buy signed albums that we didn’t solicit ourselves - or as a GIFT for a friend or family or someone we KNOW. Otherwise this should be banned as contraband material like ivory. We’re killing our favorite artists, burning their time that they should set aside for us, the fans, allowing these memorabilia dealers to make money from the true fans, and continue to bother people.

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I was channel surfing XM on the way to work this morning, at the detriment to everyone around me. At once, I was astounded to see a channel called Classic Vinyl. I had to look twice, I thought someone was playing a joke on me. It’s like seeing your name on TV, you have to look twice. As a vinyl fan, I was immediately interested, intrigued, and critical.

You can’t pick everything correct, if you call a show Classic Vinyl, but almost everything they picked was either in my collection already, or I thought it should be. Sometimes it was a little boring, I mean I’ve heard Kashmir by Led Zeppelin so many times it’s like hearing my own voice, boring. More often than not though, I was pleasently surprised to hear a non-hit Fleetwood Mac jam song, and some others that were fun to hear.

Just another reason to keep XM! They’re right on, bringing analog to the digital airwaves! Although, my only, and big complaint is that the digital stream is so compressed sometimes I get so annoyed I turn on my ipod. It’s really dirty. But I still wouldn’t give up the huge commercial free selection for the reasonable price. On long trips, XM is almost a nessessity, listening to long Public Radio shows like “This American Life” and “Opie and Anthony”, even the occaisonal Oprah show is more than worth it’s weight in monthly fees.

XM has a bunch of different classic rock and jam-rock stations, a jazz free-form station, and my staples always go-to stations xmu (indie rock) and The Verge (underground/unsigned rock).

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If you liked “I’m a Looser”, maybe you’re a Beck fan and you love Modern Guilt.  Maybe you sing along with “I’m a Looser” but you’re lost on it’s poppy-ness but love it’s break beats and quirky humor and lightness.  Modern Guilt doesn’t sound like that Beck.  Beck grew since then.  This album is more soulful but musically light.  You can really hear Beck’s melancholy mood on this album.  It’s more dramatic.

It may not be as huge as some of his other albums, but I bet if you asked Mr. Beck, I think he’d say he’s proud of this one the most.  It’s almost as if this is the Beck I knew existed in the pop he was writing before.  Just underneath was an inner child that wanted to come out, and he finally let it through onto tape.

For some reason, the audio player slowed that down on my computer, if you’re having the same trouble, here’s a link to the file, Right click on this mutha and save as!

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