I’ve no remorse so squares beware

IMG_5787I AM A nightmare walking, psychopath talking, king of my jungle blahblah and I’m still trying to organize but goddamn I’m finding so much forgotten beauty buried in my stacks that I get distracted and embark on caffeine-fueled stunts like this. (“Ooh, I should make a RECORD RAINBOW! SO RAD! SUCH A GOOD USE OF MY TIME!”)

I’m hopeless. I’ll never change. My record collection will never die – just multiply. Colors.

Following the Joy of Witnessing USC Snatch Stanford’s Soul Out its Chest on a Forced Fumble, Los Angeles Woman Attempts to Organize Konfusion, Contemplates Suicide

IMG_5760HAVING A GREAT TIME, GUYS.

Gram Parsons, GP (Reprise, 1973)

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15-year-old me was heavily into eyeliner, Howard Zinn, and magnetic sad boys who’d never treat me right but would never bore me. My little brother was almost named Gram, though, so this tendency isn’t completely my fault; hips aren’t the only thing I inherited from my mom, youfeelme.

I’ve since come to my senses and stopped being a jerk – fetishizing fucked-up brain chemistry/sorrow is just a gross thing to do – but my fondness for Gram remains and I’ll prove it by singing every goddamn word on all of his records and wearing his name on my chest. (Thank you, Worn Free!)

PS, fun fact: it turns out EVERY song called “A Song for You” makes me break down and cry.

 

 

John Lee Hooker, Born In Mississippi, Raised Up In Tennessee (ABC, 1973)

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“Hooker got his first guitar from a traveling bluesman named Tony Hollins, who took a shine to his sister Alice. Hollins had a battered Silvertone six-string he played for Alice on the front porch of the Hooker home while John hovered nearby. Eventually he gave that guitar to John.”

Just your daily reminder that people with vaginas are responsible, one way or another, for so SO much musical beauty. You’re welcome, world.

 

 

Paul and Linda McCartney, Ram (Apple, 1971)

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Goddammit if I don’t love a singing bassist, plus Paul and I share a similar reverence for and complete fucking worship of black music, but the fact is he’s always seemed pretty bitchy to me and I can’t get past it. (Michael Jackson bought your shit? Here’s your bottle and blankie. Welcome to the music business.) The first 2 minutes of “Band on the Run” are pretty sweet but then I change the station, I can guarantee I’ll never buy a Wings record, and I laugh and laugh when I think about the musical year 1971 – Ram came out in May, upon which John Lennon said OH OK BITCH HERE YOU GO and released Imagine in September. Still, this is a sweet, harmless record with a cover that I’ve been itching to recreate for a while now. I also don’t regret buying this stuffed ram ‘cause now I can finally do that Black Sheep cover.

 

 

I made a boy on the Internet sad & mad, but then

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Am I dead? Give my records to my niece and clear my browser history. I’m pretty sure I’m dead.

Sean pulled one of these but then realized it was rather stupid and mean.

Apologizing is either the newest and most subversive form of mindfuck trolling, or this gentleman has provided a mature, thoughtful explanation for his terrible online misogyny. I’m dead.

 

The Harold Wheeler Consort, Black Cream (RCA, 1975)

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Harold Wheeler’s music credits are a long, strange trip – played keys on the original “Blinded by the Light,” conducted for Galt, and did the arrangement for Nina Simone’s truly bonkers/unpleasant version of “My Way.” Get this one for the opening/title track, the closest thing to sexy that a man named “Harold” can produce and the best slinky banger that Isaac Hayes with Johnny Allen on string arrangements never recorded. It’ll give you something to talk about with Yasiin Bey if you ever get stuck in an elevator with him.

Mitch Ryder, The Detroit-Memphis Experiment (DOT, 1969)

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The actual Detroit-Memphis experiment was that time Willie Mitchell produced Bob Seger, and then Dilla did that SICK remix of Rufus Thomas’ “Walkin’ the Dog.” There’s that super secret Derrick May & Sam Phillips collab I’ve heard about too. But I’ll allow this album title, I guess.

Album from Dot Records, produced by the god Steve Cropper. Fake sky backdrop (ain’t no way I’m going outside topless) by Office Depot.  Eyebrows from when the Moors conquered Europe. Waist-hip ratio from Mom, tacos, and forgetting to eat sometimes because my antidepressant decreases my appetite.

Elmore James, Anthology Of The Blues – The Resurrection Of Elmore James (Kent, 1970)

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Elmore James gets credit for laying down the first recorded version of “Shake Your Moneymaker” after he saw my performance at Magic City (Friday night, stage 2). There’s also the Jimi obsession, plus you’ve heard his “The Sky is Crying” as covered by Stevie Ray Vaughn from that goddamn classic rock station they have on at Jiffy Lube all the time.