Friday, December 30, 2011

The Absolute Worst Shit Borders Forced Upon My Ears Last Year

My four years spent at Borders weren't all bad. I made some great friends, I have some stories I can dine out on for years but most of the music that corporate would mandate we play in the store was just straight up ass. True, there were some good selections at times like Sharon Jones, Flogging Molly, Trombone Shorty, Johnny Cash, Yo La Tengo and even MGMT's good record...and that's the best I can come up with over that stretch. It does little to diminish the psychic torment inflicted upon me by the likes of Celine Dion, Enya and motherfucking Coldplay. One day, I might mine my brain for the truly and utter shite (even though the Christmas music could arguably be considered the worst) but for now I will focus on the non-seasonal albums of 2011 that uber-tards in charge of the company demanded in constant rotation.
Glee - Whatever Fucking Piece of Shit Volume of the Soundtrack
Yeah, I'm getting this fucking garbage out of the way first. Fuck Glee, fuck Ryan Murphy and fuck you if you're a Gleek (I realize this includes some of my friends but I will not recant that statement). Look, I give the show credit for trying to bring a discussion about bullying and not shitting your pants whenever a gay person is around into the to pop-culture stew...but trying is all they accomplished. You want proof: SANTORUM, BITCHES! No matter how up his own ass Ryan Murphy gets about this neon-yellow bilious stream of excrement and it's social commentary the fact is the only thing people ever gave a shit about (aside from the writing staff at Entertainment Weekly)is the music. That's why the show was able to break the Beatles' Billboard record (and we, as a nation, should weep over being alive to witness and have our fellow Americans contribute to that) and no matter how big a pop-song they covered, the auto-tuned weasels almost always outsold and out shined the original artist. Here's the Cliff's Notes so I don't waste more time ranting on this rapidly dying rectal wart of a television show: the music is absolutely ghastly.
First, let's acknowledge that the people behind this aural terrorism do actually choose some fantastic songs...that shouldn't be covered. Ever. "River Deep, Mountain High" are you fucking kidding me? You dolts are going to have your group of expertly coiffed, under-talented and studio magic assisted rented mules try to tackle an Ike and Tina song? Get fucked. Or how bout the aforementioned Beatles or the Stones. And then there's totally misconstruing the actual meaning of a fucking song because it can be easily shoehorned into your contrived plots and the songwriters are eager for a fat check? All Glee does is lazily take pop songs down the Radio Disney or Kidz Bop! route and the aftermath is a successive stream of wet farts into the ears of people who have actual musical taste.
And, to be sure, Murphy loves to stroke his own ego and act like his show is the only way that kids will get into music and if your band says, "Fuck that noise. Glee is fucking lame" or "I don't want my music on that shit, I'd rather sell if to a gum company" he will troll you hard. Thankfully, Dave Grohl shut him the fuck up. And, hey, if you want to kids stoked about music and starting a band and rejecting mainstream norms than maybe you should've done an episode dedicated to Care Bears on Fire instead of Lady Gaga.
(no video included because I will not have a clip or cover from Glee disgrace this blog)
Michael Buble - Crazy Love
Look, pop-stars are also meant to appeal to the masses on a superficial level to muck up the brain in case they have an aversion to whatever music they release. I get that middle-aged wino chicks need someone to get their granny panties lubed up before marathons of Sex and the City, but this fifth rate Harry Connick Jr. hoser is who they've picked? Come on ladies, Tom Jones is STILL dripping with tanning oil, a hearty musk of Brute, aged gash and can still make your vulvas thump! I'm sure at one point Buble was an actual crooner, wrote his own songs...okay that's just so ridiculous I can't even finish typing my previous musing. He's a total corporate stooge who finally built a large enough audience to be forced down the throats of the people who wake up to VH-1 every morning. That's why he went total Peter Cetera instead of raping more Sinatra tunes. Well, I guess we can be glad for that.
Susan Boyle - All of Them
Okay, so this mongoloid didn't release her new album until after Borders was shuffled loose this mortal coil but I'm including her previous records here because they were so insufferable I wish she'd turn into Katrina Bowden overnight so people would quit giving her credit for being extremely mediocre in every way possible.
Here is the scenario for every avowed Boyle-tard when they first saw her (no one ever heard voice before taking in her visage): " Okay, time to watch a bunch of misguided tools belt their brains out in front of under qualified, semi-successful record industry lemmings. Oh, my brain is tired. Let's let the TV talking heads tell me which record to buy next."
/sees Susan Boyle walk into camera view
/Boyle begins to sing, lulling these easily duped twats into a state of total pacification with the heightened urge to buy her record.
And scene. Anyone who regards Susan Boyle with any consideration beyond being a lamentable pop-culture skid mark like William Hung or Fred Durst has no sense of art, creativity or life.
Brad Paisley - This is Country Music
Holy fuck this album is torture. But let's ignore the obvious musical shortcomings of Mr. Paisely (who should be resigned to making mediocre surf music) to focus on the lyrical content. The title track is so offensive to anyone who doesn't have their head up the Tea Party's ass. Let's break it down:
You're not supposed to say the word "cancer" in a song.
Really, why not? Who the fuck said you can't discuss cancer in music? I wish this line was, "You're not supposed to talk about/how Muslims are trying to kill us all" because at least you could justify such idiocy under the auspices of lame prejudice.
And telling folks Jesus is the answer can rub them wrong.
Well, yeah, I don't prefer to hear that shit in my music. But, then again, I still adore people like Mahalia Jackson and Johnny Cash. Of course, Richard Dawkins would probably become apoplectic over hearing about the glory of the lord if he gave two shits about pop music. Honestly, I don't see too many fans of modern country music being hardcore atheists. But go on, tortured white Christians, and keep thinking our vile secularist nation is oppressing you.
It ain't hip to sing about tractors, trucks, little towns and mama, yeah that might be true. But this is country music and we do.
No, dude, this is VERY hip right now. Not, hip, like, people in Brooklyn wearing over-sized glasses and retro NBA jerseys. Well, both groups are huge, gaping assholes. But looking at the state politics,it seems that blowing people who eat religiously at some monstrosity called a Pizza Ranch (I hear complimentary ranch dressing is served in beer pitchers) while eagerly awaiting to lick Rick Santorum's taint seems pretty en vouge. It's not like your extolling the virtues of a black president and lamenting the loss of Christopher Hitchens. Now, THAT would be very unhip.
And if there's anyone that still/ Has pride and memory of those/ That died defending the old red, white and blue/ This is country music and we do.
Oh really, asshole? The person that got this etched permanently on their body is who I imagine you are courting with these lyrics.
Well, let me retort to just about all your previous claims with this one song that features ruminations on religion, war, patriotism and love.
I firmly believe that country music, as a relevant musical (not social) genre died after Urban Cowboy. Sure, there are some great bands out now that are keeping the traditions of country music alive for those who regard Hank Williams with more love and devotion than Faith Hill or some asshat like Tobey Keith. Those Darlins' first record is a good example, I'm a very big fan of Sean Reefer but in general, country music has been diffused into nothing more than pop music for the Tea Party set.
Brad Paisley's album is the ultimate bullshit image of a divided America. It's just such a ridiculous, egregiously fake, Norman Rockwell painted narrative that it makes me wretch. And to be sure, there are plenty of oh so horrible songs to be singled out for righteous scorn but, in line with my aforementioned theory, the main offender has to be "Camouflage." To sum up this brilliant rhapsody of redneck decor, aside from being able to shoot stars and stripes out of your asshole on command, the next best act as a patriot you can perform is not donating to the Wounded Warrior Project, joining the military or volunteering at a VFW. No, it's painting your bad ass, shit-kicker, mean muddin' machine in camouflage! In fact, here are BradleyCoolDude's thoughts in the YouTube page for this aural atrocity: If you don't like camouflage, then your a communist and should leave the good ole' America.
I hope Brad Paisley gets gored to death by a bull at the rodeo this year.
Original Motion Picture Soundtrack - Country Strong
I've already spewed enough venom on modern country but when you add Gwyneth Paltrow into the mix and you have to hear it on loop for 8 hours a day then what you have is the audio equivalent of waterboarding.
Bonnie's Power Mix - A Liquidation Mix Made by My Last General Manager
I wasn't a fan of my last GM. She pushed out some good people, would NEVER go to bat for the employees or insert herself into a problem with an unruly customer and generally made liquidation SUCK OUT LOUD even more. But her mix CD (by the time Armageddon was in full swing we were allowed to play our own mix CD's) was pretty awful for reasons beyond some of the musical choices. Snap's "I Got the Power," Twisted Sister's "We're Not Gonna Take It" and even the motherfucking Rocky theme were included. I fail to see how those tunes will inspire power within me when I'm being berated by dumbass motherfuckers who can't read the fine print of an e-mail or don't get that they can no longer treat us like a public library and the fucking person in charge can't drag her ass away from kissing the liquidators ball sack to tell these people to leave her employees the fuck alone. Every day when I opened I would pull this disc out of the mix replace it with the Disney song collection (no joke) someone else came up with. Yes, listening to Robing Williams rap was more pleasurable than hearing the jarring switch from 80's pop relics to "Flight of the Valkyries." And she would return it to its place. I'm GLAD you were tortured by my morose Tom Waits mix. But the true turd burned to disc was that horrible Daniel Powter song that became a hit because it was featured on the show most likely to give your ears AIDS, American Idol.
Who in their right fucking mind would choose to play this FOR THE BENEFIT OF THEIR EMPLOYEES EMOTIONS that are facing unemployment, unrepentant bargain hunters literally tearing your store apart, and non-stop lines of people bitching, "Oh that's all you're gonna take off of that? That's not worth it to me. I'll come back when the prices go down." Wait, who in their right fucking mind with kindergarten level social skills and a comprehension of basic human emotion would drop a buck on that shit on iTunes? Yeah, go fuck yourself Bonnie. Hey at least, I played something positive in my mix CD instead of what I really wanted to put on loop, which would've been this:

Thursday, December 29, 2011

Jay Debauchery's Top 10 Records of 2011, Part Deux

5. Tom Waits - Bad as Me (Anti)
"Listen to the general! Every goddamn word," Waits growls on his first studio album in seven years and one that just might outshine his previous, 2004's cult classic Real Gone (well, aren't they all cult classics? Sure, Waits is in the the R 'N' R Hall of Fame but do you really see people giving this man as much credit or love as Bono? Glad we can all agree on that. FUCK BONO!). Tom Waits said his wife told him to crank out the tunes fast and furious and to be short and concise and it is a glorious collection of from one of the most interesting and continually innovative American artists of all time. Weaved within the howlers like the title track, "Hell Broke Luce" and "Get Lost" are quieter tracks, like "Back in the Crowd" that showcase just how powerful Wait's voice can be when he isn't hammering your brain with his carnival barker rasp (note: this is not complaint nor criticism). Plus, Keith Richards plays guitar on this. How the fuck can you go wrong with Keef if someone like Waits is cracking the whip? Everett True quoted a friend on Facebook describing this album as, "the best kind of 'more of the same.' Spot on. Oh and I arbitrarily ranked it this high because the lone official video released has no emu's in it.Anti gets Tom some emu's, like they did before, and in 2012 I switch all this shit up. Got it?
4. Thee Oh Sees - Carrion Crawler/The Dream (In the Red)
Not content to release one awe inspiring psychedelic skull-fuck this year, John Dwyer and co. pumped this record out (originally conceived as two E.P.'s) about six months after the sunshine-pop filled, deliriously trippy, Castlemania and I struggled about which record would retain this spot for a bit. In fact, all I did on my Xmas shift at the hospital was bounce back and forth between the two, nodding my head uncontrollably, receiving concerned glares from my co-workers who are most certainly not accustomed to acid-flashback inspiring garage rock excellence. In the end, Carrion Crawler/The Dream wins out because the band drifts off into unexpected realms, leaving the music totally unpredictable. Plus, it's the noisier of the two. It's a fantastic record and it might be their masterpiece.
3. P.J. Harvey - Let England Shake (Vagrant)
Holy fuck, people, this record is unbelievably brilliant and incredibly difficult for me to write about without hyperbole. Bottom line, Polly Jean is still on the minimalist kick and along with Mick Harvey and John Parish she has crafted a wicked political album that is probably the most haunting and acerbic (well, lyrically at least) of her career. You just can't shake some of the images she splashes across your brain. Let England Shake is the most pleasurable musical punch to the balls you'd ever like to receive. She truly is the Patti Smith of her generation.
2. Mind Spiders - S/T (Dirtnap)
This is another record I was shocked (to almost violent rage) that didn't make it on almost ANY top 10 list. Are you fucking kidding me? Mark Ryan (of the amazing, criminally underrated, Marked Men) pumps out an amazing garage-pop album and just because it's released in January and not blown by the blogosphere like Bon Iver or whatever other horseshit was stylistically calculated to appease lazy music writers searching for a quick write up, this rad piece of wax gets relegated to the metaphorical dustbin? Fuck that noise. The Marked Men were, from the get go, one of the best bands on the planet and Ryan has carried that tradition on while managing to get weird at times while maintaining their obsession for 60's pop. If you don't see hope for the future of pop music in this band then Van Gogh yourself...twice!
1. Fucked Up - David Comes to Life (Matador)
If this is the end of Fucked Up, then they've gone out on an incredibly high note. Few bands can successfully do the concept album and when you throw in hardcore punk bands to the mix the odds get exponentially lower. However, these cats managed to magnificently pull it off, plotting the beats of their "rock opera" in a Toronto food court while retooling the music to coincide with it. Alongside the album, they released singles coloring the fictional town the story takes place in that run the gamut from the could have been on a KBD comp, "My Old Man's a Ginger" to the dreamy 90's alt-rock on, "Light Rain" or even the garage-pop on, "It's Hard to Be a Dad".
But, what is first and foremost here is the music on the album itself. I've been a total fanboy for Fucked Up ever since I heard Epics in Minutes. I've been thrilled to see the band progress beyond the second coming of Black Flag label that was thrust upon them, deservedly so, earlier in their career. Mike Haliecheck, the architect of this group's brilliant brand of sonic assault, deserves much of the credit for the records' success but it's frontman Damien Abraham's ripped-throat snarl that ferociously delivers the many emotional gut punches perfectly placed throughout the record. And despite the incredibly high bar this records sets for Fucked Up, I'm sure whatever it is they unleash upon us next will be at the very least, on par with David Comes to Life.
EP of the Year - Tie
Future of the Left - Polymers are Forever (Xtra Mile)
So, they dropped the bassist that has been with Andy Falkous since mclusky and added a second guitarist and yet, the proper question is, how fucking more awesome could this band get? Waaaaay more rad, folks.
Trash Talk - Awake (True Panther)
If Cerebral Ballzy weren't so drunk (not a complaint) and more into metal.

Saturday, December 24, 2011

Jay Debauchery's Top 10 Records of 2011, Part Une

Alright, here we go. Some of these have popped up (deservedly so) in every possible corner of the internet and print media. Some have not. I stand by my list until next year when I look it over, go back through all the records I neglected to mention and end up hammering my asshole with a meat tenderizer.
10. Police Teeth - Awesomer Than the Devil (Latest Flame)
I copped this off of Shiny Grey Montone (I have a physical copy now, thank you) at the suggestion of Soulless Brother #1 (aka Black Nathan) and it fucking blew me away. Imagine if Superchunk went full on balls out with the volume cranked, hints of Future of the Left, Seaweed and Fugazi and you've got this kick ass bit of wax. "Summertime Bruise" hasn't left my head since I heard it.
9. Smith Westerns - Dye it Blonde (Fat Possum)
These kids are just so goddamned good. Much more polished this time around, the Smith Westerns are still obsessed with Marc Bolan, Teenage Fanclub and I Should Coco era Supergrass (just listen to "Weekend" or "Imagine, Pt. 3" and tell me I'm wrong) and seem to effortlessly craft sublime pop songs. I was surprised to see these guys land on so few year end lists but I guess that's what happens when you can't hype a band beyond their first record and the follow up comes out at the beginning of the year. Go back and listen to this along with their self-titled and tell me your not stoked about what they'll lay on us next.
8. Lords of Altamont - Midnight to 666 (Fargo) The Lords don't reinvent themselves or their scuzzed up 60's inspired (duh) psych/biker punk but unlike their previous release, The Altamont Sin, the band cranks the fuzz and Farfisa up to 11 with a nice thick sound to muddy your ears. Maybe it's the addition of members of the Fuzztones and Cramps that brought the band back to their former glory (Lords Have Mercy). Bonus points are awarded for their cover of the Dead Boys' "Ain't it Fun."
7. Davila 666 - Tan Bajo (In the Red)
Let's put off the critical discussion for a moment and go into total fanboy territory. First, you need to listen to this. And then this track from the Pepper Pots. If they hook up we are assured some bad ass pop music in the future. Anyhoo, the finest group of garage enthusiasts out of Puerto Rico have returned with a lo-fi compilation of punked up Richie Valens tunes that will provide the perfect soundtrack to your summer bar-b-cue. In between the hepped up rockers ("Patitas") there are some straight Phil Spector ballads ("Eso Que Me Haces"). I love this record so much I included one of the songs on my ill fated wedding playlist which you can dig below.
6. The Gaye Blades - S/T (Norton)
This spot should've been reserved for the Night Beats LP (and hey, I can still change my mind but I wanna at least get half of this list up tonight) but this was a last minute listen that really hit me hard. Pretty much what you get is the Black Lips meets Gentleman Jesse and that's because it's Jared Swilley and Jesse Smith (who also slays in the Carbonas) and it results in the only band that can be mentioned alongside greats like Shoes, the Action and the Exploding Hearts. No, this won't shake your world like Guitar Romantic but it will remind you to have faith that power-pop ,in America, will eventually burst through to the mainstream once again. Sure, the production and vocals are (intentionally) raw but it just makes the album more endearing and highlights the strengths of the songwriting. So what if they don't harmonize perfect and the guitar is slightly out of tune? This is going to be stuck in your head for eons. Essentially, it's a long lost Bomp! record released in 2011. We should all be happy as a pig in shit for that.

The Top Ten Songs I Didn't Hear at Jay Debauchery's Wedding

So, as mentioned in an earlier post by Mr. Debauchery, I have been invited to take time away from my literary blog, Poppycock Press (I know, I know, shameless self-promotion, but hey, I got a following to build), to come write a top ten list for 2011 in Please Kill Yourself (If you are reading this now, you have not followed instructions very well, now have you?). My main problem in constructing an idea for a top ten list is that I have spent much of the year listening to old records that I haven't pulled out in years (the only new album I payed any attention to was Fucked Up's "David Comes to Life"), reading old literature while almost finishing off David Foster Wallace's entire collection of books (my new favorite author--wish I had discovered him before he offed himself), and generally avoiding Television--aside from Breaking Bad and Mad Men--like the digital rays are going to form a phallic wave and skull-fuck mindaids directly into my cerebral cortex (Hey, you never know with modern technology. I'm pretty sure my cell phone could cook me breakfast if I found the right app.). You could say I am not hip to the current cultural landscape. The kids would not find me cool, fresh, dope, groovy, chill, or whatever funky new nickname they call it these days. However, I did attend a special event this year, the union of Mr. and Mrs. Debauchery. Of course, side-note here, Can Mr. Jay Debauchery still call himself "Debauchery" now that he is married and has a real job? (Ed note: Yes. Yes we can. The absolute scumbaggery that happened at my bachelor means that I can claim my Mark Twain for life). I vote that we rechristen our old friend--perhaps the cliched "The blogger formerly known as Jay Debauchery," or if I can throw my suggestion into the box, I like "Jay Homeowner." It has a nice ring to it. Of course, any other suggestions should be posted in the comments section of this post and we'll vote on it later. For now, being that this is the end of 2011, we'll give him a few more days of pride in his last name and continue to refer to him as "Mr. Debauchery" from here on out in this post, but when 2012 comes it's Mr. Homeowner all the way. Alas, I digress, the whole point of this long-winded introduction was to say that certain promises were made and horribly broken regarding this wedding, and no I am not talking about the strippers (Tweedle Fat and Tweedle Crackhead) at his bachelor party. That's another story altogether. I was referring to a certain auditory environment that was promised to his longtime friends and sharers in the tradition of ultra-music-snobbery. Instead, we were treated to the same old doldrums of shitty overplayed Sinatra tunes and fore some reason this...
So without further adieu, I present my contribution to Please Kill Yourself's Best of 2011...
The Top Ten Songs I Didn't Hear at Jay Debauchery's Wedding
10) The Dwarves - I Wanna Be Your Pimp
For a man that lists his new bride under the name "Bottom Bitch" in his iPhone (if you aren't familiar with the terminology, you should read this book), certainly I should have been treated to Blag Dahlia's ruminations on love and Greyhound buses. If the Dwarves were considered too aggressive for the mass contingent of Aggies at Jay's wedding then certainly a Houston classic could have fit the bill perfectly, which brings me to...
9) UGK - International Players Anthem
Aside from the aforementioned labeling of Mr. Debauchery's one and only, what more could you want to hear at a wedding of two native Houstonians, other than the H-Town duo of Bun B and Pimp C featuring the lyrical stylings of none other than Outkast's Andre 3000 and Big Boi over the Motown Classic "I Choose You" by Willie Hutch? If you can't get your ass moving on the dance floor to this, then you either have no ass or hate good music. And speaking of great Houston artists, we should switch up the genres here and wonder why no...
8) Townes Van Zandt - If I Needed You
We're in Texas. I think we're entitled to at least one slow country love song that doesn't make white people look like toddlers discovering their legs for the first time when they try to dance. I mean, seriously, all the shitty modern pop that was played at his wedding left the dance floor a choppy ocean of maroon during hurricane season. Also, with a self-appointed moniker like "Debauchery," how could we not have honored one of the forefathers of drunken buffoonery? And speaking of drunken buffoonery, I would have loved to hear this...
7) Danny Boy
Who qualifies as bigger drunks than the Irish? For a man who so brazenly declares his Irish heritage every 20 seconds or so, we couldn't listen to the Irish American national anthem. Yes, in the end, we did get some Pogues and some Dropkick Murphys after Mr. Debauchery finally yelled at the two numskull deejays who seemed perfect for any Jewish kid's bar mitzvah (I think I may have gotten their card), and yes, it's more of a funeral hymn, but like I questioned his nickname earlier, I do feel that marriage is kind of the funeral for us debaucherous souls.
OK, OK, so honestly, this is Soulless Brother #1's contribution to the post. We just wanted a chance to include some Coen Brothers. As Soulless Brother #1 would say, "Go Minnesota!" And speaking of talented Minnesotans, really?!, none of this either...
6) The Replacements - Can't Hardly Wait
(Ed note: This did in fact play but was what gave the DJ's cold feet about my play list. Fuck them! Mikey, we were out smoking at the time)>Considering Mr. Debauchery lists this song himself at the very top of his own wedding playlist, I was quite surprised to not hear one of the ultimate punk rock love songs at the wedding. When I hear this song, I think of mix-tapes for girls in high school, I get the old butterflies in my stomach from thoughts of old love affairs, and bonus, because of the 90's tradition of shitty high school party films, I can envision my high school infatuation with Jennifer Love Hewitt's breasts because of the crappy movie which ripped off it's title from this song. And while we're on the ultimate punk rock love songs, we definitely should have been treated to some of this...
5) The Dead Boys - All This and More
My vote is that this song should have been played close to the end. A little sexy, a little raunchy, perfect for working up a young couple ready to consecrate their marriage. Of course, as I mentioned earlier, there weren't just punk music snobs at the wedding. The contingent of Aggies and typical white folks was quite high so the wedding playlist certainly had to appease these members of the crowd as well. But if the deejays were only going to play shitty standards, then they could have at least allowed us to hear some of the songs we ironically love like...
4) Elvis Presley - Suspicious Minds
Now, this isn't exactly a happy-go-lucky love song, but it would serve as a solid reminder to the bride and groom that their relationship from here on out must be free of jealousy. No, Mr. and Mrs. Debauchery, you cannot go on together with suspicious minds. Your relationship must be built on trust if it is to last. Besides, Courtney, if you knew how much fun your husband didn't have at his own bachelor party, you'd love him forever on that alone. Additionally, this is one of two Elvis songs that I'll actually stand behind (the other of course being "In the Ghetto" but that's not exactly wedding material), and if you saw the crowd at that wedding, there must have been at least a couple of Elvis diehards. Besides, you try not to have a blast singing along to the chorus of this song. It's impossible. Now, we shouldn't spend too much time ironically listening to music, as is the case that if the wedding deejays had done their job by playing a nice mix of shitty standard wedding music and the elusive wedding playlist of the groom, or if Mr. Debauchery had done us all a favor and threatened to withhold their pay, we would have no need for this here post. But we do, so I'll add one more to the tally...
3) Blowfly - I Wanna Be Fellated
It's a parody of one of Mr. Debauchery's favorite bands, and I just kind of always wanted to hear a Blowfly track played at a wedding. I know it's a little much to ask, but fuck it, it's my list and I'll bitch if I want to. But now, for a serious addition...
2) Tom Waits - Sea of Love
While this isn't a Waits original, it's certainly an amazing rendition, and if we're to be honest here, Tom Waits original material on love isn't exactly the most hopeful wedding music. But certainly Mr. Debauchery, like most music snobs, has Tom Waits on his Mount Rushmore of songwriters, and we should have subjected the normal folk to his gravelly, haunting, and ultimately perfect and beautiful voice. It is truly a travesty that no Tom Waits was played at the wedding. No joking here. And now the unveiling, of the one song, without a doubt that we will all regret missing out on at Jay "My Life is All Picket Fences, Children, and the Farewell of my Youthful Dreams from Here on Out" Debauchery's (1981-2011) wedding...
1) Lil John - Get Low
Oh wait, Nevermind! We totally heard this at his wedding. Oh, skeet skeet skeet motherfucker! I mean, seriously, did Mr. Debauchery really pick this out? I will agree that there is nothing more debaucherous than spilling semen all over your beloveds face till the sweat drips from your balls, but it still seems more of a honeymoon track to me. Oh, skeet skeet skeet motherfucker! Of course, I can't say I'm completely disappointed either. I'm not sure if Soulless Brother #1's masturbatory gestures in plain view of the bride's entire family were more amusing or the dance floor flooded with white Aggie bridesmaids cheering for their own desecration. Oh skeet skeet skeet motherfucker...whoop! Oh skeet skeet skeet whoop! Hey, I kind of like that addition. Oh, another side-note here, I did a little debauchery of my own at the wedding, and let's just say that dried up skeet on a maroon dress kind of turns into a burnt orange color. Who knew? I don't know if we can use this covert information as some sort of new clothing line to bring Aggies and Longhorns back together. You know, like the bloods and the crips "Crosscolors" line in the early 90's.
So, there you have it...The Top Ten Songs I Didn't Hear at Jay Debauchery's Wedding. In all seriousness, I wish you and Courtney the best in your marriage and am truly sorry for you guys about all the hiccups with the idiots at the wedding venue. In the immortal words of Wu Tang Clan, I hope one day you get to find those deejays, sew their assholes shut, and keep feeding them and feeding them and feeding them. With that, I'm out! Oh skeet skeet skeet motherfuckers!

Thursday, December 22, 2011

Quick Update on Things to Come

Appy-polly-logies for the lack of updates lately. Me and Mrs. just honeymooned it in New Orleans and I work the Xmas holiday and fucking slacked on shopping for everyone and I'm still super bummed about Hitch's death while the Kardashians continue to draw breath and, hey, I'm trying to get back on track with the whole blog/zine (yes, we ARE coming back in print) thing. So, to get your jeans super tight/wet, here are some things coming down the pipe that have been actively worked on thus far.
*Best of 2011 lists. Not just from me, as per usual (except for last year when I wanted to hermetically seal myself in Debauchery Central due to some retail trauma), but I reached out to some friends to give you a different perspective. 8BitChris, hopefully, will turn something in and if not I will walk across the hall at work and smack him in the face with a vaginal dilator. Oh, you best believe I'm planning on using a number 8! Soulless Brother #1, (cause he's a ginger, see) Black Nathan has tepidly committed to producing something as well. And I've also reached out to my good friend Mike Hilbig of the awesome Poppycock Press to contribute. Hopefully, he'll get out of the habit of doing real, serious, artistic and soul searching writing to come fuck around these parts.
*Inspired by hearing Skrillex for the first time (and probably the first time that twat-hat has inspired anything other than bilious shit/vomit) I will do a list compiling the worst albums I heard this year. Now, don't think I got all super duper music journo or anything. There was plenty of shit that I was aware of this year that made people's top 10 or 2,000 lists that I had absolutely no interest in listening to. This is more a compilation of the audio diarrhea unwillingly squirted through my ears by the now deceased corporate overlords at Borders. You will weep for me when you read what I was subjected to endure (and the Glee albums weren't even fucking close to the worst).
*A treatise on Kickstarter and how it seems to be a shit deal when it comes to music for the fans. This is inspired by a previously popular third wave ska band raising over $50K to record a new album. That is some straight up BULLSHIT, brothers and sisters.
*If Mrs. Debauchery signs off on it a patchwork of our honeymoon in New Orleans. Hopefully, Mr. and Mrs. GFN will be cool with being included.
*And speaking of the GFN, thoughts on the Down 'N' Dirties reunion and review of their set at Liberty Station before I got shithoused.
*Loads of praise for Heights Vinyl, the fucking coolest record store on the block!
*I don't know what's gonna happen this year but I'm predicting an epic rant on the asshole Santa's that fuck up the 30footFALL Xmas show every year. They can get hit by pick-up trucks leaving Jimmy's Place for all I care.
*And some other shit I'm sure I'll pull out of my ass in a drunken stupor when I get on a writing jag. Like, really, I thought about outlining my plan to pacify the GOP when it comes to gay rights and immigration. Long story short: Gay people marry illegal immigrants of the opposite sex. EVERYBODY WINS!

Monday, December 12, 2011

Thoughts on Finally not Having to Endure Xmas Music at Work

As noted before, this is my first year out of retail in over four years. And aside from having to deal with constantly being berated for not having the popular book/cd/dvd that everyone else is fucking looking for, cleaning up after women who have shit on the bathroom floor (ya'll girls is nassay!) and, well, being in retail, the greatest joy I'm currently experiencing is being in a work environment that is absent Christmas music. Even when I was at Nundini, we'd have to listen to Sunny 99.1 and the same shitty assortment of 20 songs blase enough to pacify the general masses and believe me, there were times when I thought of Van Goghing myself with the meat slicer.
Many of the recurring criticisms I have regarding most pop music (bland, boring, safe, dumbed down, void of emotion, etc.) are exacerbated when the bands pump out tired covers of the same holiday standards. Most of the time, you can hear just how disinterested the band itself is in performing these generic tunes just to score some extra cash on the novelty of it all. OMG! Rascal Flats has THEIR own stamp on "Grandma Got Runover by a Reindeer!" TAKE ME TO THE NEAREST WAL-MART AT ONCE SO I MAY MARVEL OVER IT'S BRILLIANCE!
To be fair, not all Xmas music is total shit. The Pogues "Fairytale of New York" is one of their best songs. The Boys had tons of fun (under the moniker the Yobs) shitting on some, turning other holiday classics into pornographic, misogynistic piss-takes (that are pure aural joys. There's the Sonic's "I Don't Believe in Christmas" and A Christmas Gift for You from Phillie Records album to dig. Even this Punk Rock Advent Calendar is a bit of cheeky fun.
Bob Dylan came out with his take on the genre under the very apt argument that these songs were traditional standards that endure because of modern artists interpreting them in their own way. This doesn't mean they are always successful or even tolerable more than...10% of the time. There are very fucking few exceptions to the axiom that most Christmas music is shit so please allow me to share with you the worst I've ever had to endure.
She and Him - A Very She and Him Christmas
Once I heard about this album I was immediately glad that Borders went out of business because otherwise I was sure to have to listen to this garbage on loop for 8 hours a day. I'm sorry, I just don't get the appeal of Zooey Deschanel and M. Ward's dull as fuck music. Sure, she's got a nice voice but that doesn't mean the music is worth listening to. I avoided this thing like AIDS and had been safe until yesterday when Mrs. Debauchery dragged my ass to a Kirkland's and it almost put me to sleep standing. If anyone can explain to me why people give a shit what this lame hipster who is responsible for the word "adorkable" attempts to contribute to music, I will gladly pay your bar tab. You want GOOD modern versions of AM radio pop music? You had the Pipettes and now can bask in the glory of the Pepper Pots. Even the reverse gender roles on the ultimate holiday date rape anthem couldn't hold my interest.
Josh Groban - Noel
Like clockwork, every October we'd get another copy of this CD to stuff into the player and would be mandated by the corporate geniuses who engineered Borders swirl down the toilet to put this shit on blast for four fucking months. All the good will he got from the "I'm Fucking Ben Affleck" video and trying to hip his dinosaur audience to Nick Cave (he performed a pretty asstastic version of "Straight to You" on his last album. Yes, I hate myself for being aware of that) was gone once this turd landed in my ears. Look, I get that old white ladies need vocal stimuli to get their granny panties moist for their hordes of cats to chow down on but the American king of pop-era and his PBS shilled Christmas disc makes me pine for Sharon Stone in Basic Instinct to go to town on my balls like a goddamned block of ice. Plus, he looks like a mongoloid version of Bill Fool.
Straight No Chaser - Christmas Cheer
Ooof. This is almost the worst on the list (hint: our winner involves Jesus and fancy footwear!) and is another offering pimped out by PBS. Coupled with Josh Groban (yes, that 1-2 tandem of fucking suck happened in 2010!) this makes me want to vote Republican so they defund the pricks. A fellow mall employee came by to borrow some Xmas music and I gladly yanked this shit out of the stereo and quickly shoved her out the door. She came back 20 minutes later and politely thanked me for the offering when I could tell she wanted to break the disc over my head and open my veins with the shattered remnants of the CD. What you get here is some acapella bullshit that can only be erased from your memory with copious amounts of whiskey and Slayer. Look, I hate all the bullshit machismo built around beer commercials ("GRRRRR! IF YOU DRINK LIGHT BEER YER A FAG! RAWWR! MY PROTRUDING GUT IS A TESTAMENT TO THE LENGTH OF MY COCK!") but it's clear the only sexual activity these cats enjoy is the pre-show circle jerk while harmonizing. That's not me calling them gay. They're clearly acappella-sexual. If there were women in this group one of the guys would be flicking her jelly bean in the aforementioned pre-show activities. Sorry, no embed available for this one although that might be to your benefit.
Aretha Franklin - This Christmas
Don't get me wrong. I fucking love Aretha and I understand aging pop stars are wont to do lazy shit like this to supplement their income instead of actually producing new music (hey, didn't Al Green release a pretty decent album a couple of years ago?). But this song right here is just straight embarrassing. So, not only is nepotism on display but Eddie's little Mariah Carey moment followed by some terrible scat/rap combo...the Queen of Soul's word salad ramblings...This was a Borders exclusive and right around liquidation they shipped us a fuckton of the album to be priced at 99 cents. It took over three years and the company going out of business to unload this diaper stain of a Christmas album.
Newsong - The Christmas Shoes
Tim Tebow could release a Christmas song lamenting sheared foreskins and aborted fetuses and I would not be able to hate it as much as "The Christmas Shoes." I would rather have married a Juggalette or my nephew grow up to be the new Chris Martin than this song exist. And to throw some more salt in the wound the little shit in the video is wearing a Red Sox hat. Fuck atheism. I am SURE there is a God now who endeared his wretched minions with the dearth to create this song and for it to become a bonafide hit JUST TO TORTURE ME BECAUSE I AM HEATHEN SCUM. 8-Bit hadn't heard this travesty of an aural abortion until a few weeks ago and I envy him. I wish I didn't spend two Christmases with this Christian rock bullshit pulsating from the overhead speakers every half hour. I hope Christopher Hitchens survives his cancer treatment and can walk up to the singer of Newsong and put his foot squarely in that cunt's nutsack! I hope Richard Dawkins writes a treatise on this song more condescending than The God Delusion and reads it to these bastards, stopping to explain every obvious scientific theorem twenty times over. Hang on, I gotta do a shot.
/downs bottle of Jameson while receiving sympathetic looks from the dogs
So, if you want the quick version of why this song is so wretched (lyrically) then check out Patton Oswalt NUKING it here. Earlier, I brought up my general complaints regarding most pop music ((bland, boring, safe, dumbed down, void of emotion, etc.) and this song fits that perfectly. I feel that criticising the music on display is a moot point considering all the assholes that love this song focus more on the lyrics than music. How else could you explain the enduring popularity of Christian pop music? What fucking parent sends his son out to get a pair of motherfucking shoes before his wife/the kids mom croaks? And the protagonist outs himself as a gaping asshole for standing in line on December 24th to buy gifts for people he could give a FUCK about. If my hardcore Baptist grandmother who is about to be put in hospice care heard this load of crap she'd have the same objections her beloved atheist grandson does: it's antithetical to the tenets of Christianity, it's a bunch of Joel Osteen buy your way into heaven propagated bunk, it's a shitty song that shouldn't be excused because it makes Glenn Beck's dick hard (okay, that last part might not be true)!
Because Jesus didn't believe in sharing I can't embed this here. Troll in the comments random people who were misguided to my blog by google.
I leave you with this, my final argument on Christmas music as contradictory as it is. A lame song I enjoy due to its timeliness and stance against the general public mood.

Monday, November 28, 2011

Some Thoughts on Black Friday

For the first time in over 4 years I did not have to work Black Friday in retail. I'm really glad about that because this year, it seems, released the most batshit insane, caustic and totally irrational fucktard shoppers upon constantly berated retail workers. Yes, I'm still bitter about my experiences in retail but at least I worked in a store that didn't feature door buster deals and swarms of mouth-breathing "bargain hunters" who seem to value slightly marked down electronics over being decent human beings.
To be fair, this year we didn't have an employee trampled to death but there was still plenty of disgusting behavior on display to leave me thanking my lucky fucking stars that I was out of that game. The worst incident reported (aside from the usual parking lot robberies) was obviously the wretched cunt who pepper sprayed a crowd of people at a California Wal-Mart just to get at some goddamned discounted video games. When I read that from the comfort of my desk at work I instantly wished that she was either robbed in the parking lot for all her shit or when eventually identified smacked with an assault charge for every customer who got hit with the spray (you might think I'm being a little extreme here but if you haven't been hit with mace before than you don't know just how agonizing it is). Nope, she got to make her purchases and leave without being caught. Sure, she turned herself in (almost 24 hours after the incident and probably because she figured it would lessen her punishment when her identity was eventually discovered) but that doesn't mitigate the fact that she decided the best way to get a "competitive shopping advantage" was to douse a crowd with a chemical weapon. Even more troubling about that was that she had her fucking kids with her! What a great example to set there, mom.
Of course, we shouldn't forget that a shopper died in a Target and was casually stepped over by the throngs of price conscious jackals. That's not as shocking to me as the pepper spray incident because after going through a liquidation you would not believe how narcissistic, entitled and inhumane these types of people can be. I had plenty of customers who were unable (or unwilling?) to read the fine print on going out of business deals and instantly lay into my poor co-workers when they pointed out the actual discount. Like, shouting at the top of their lungs, telling us to enjoy our unemployment, cursing, expressing joy in everyone losing their jobs...just truly awful examples of humanity. After experiencing all that and more I totally believe and I guess expect Black Friday shoppers to view the corpse of a man in the middle of a big box store only to shrug and head straight for the 550 inch plasma HD-TV without a second thought.
Bill Hicks once said on the subject of humanity that "We're a virus with shoes" and viewing our shopping behavior during Black Friday seems to confirm that assessment. So, allow me to rant about the bevy of assholes that make Black Friday one of the most embarrassing annual displays of greed that could only happen in America.
First off, you're an asshole if you go shopping on Black Friday. Hey, don't get mad. I just called a few of my friends, relatives and co-workers assholes, so please don't take that statement of fact personally. Retail is soul crushing, often thankless and just brutal fucking work. The holidays bring extra dread to everyone punching that clock. You swarming malls and stores like ravenous zombies all at once just makes everything worse for the workers. We all know we get less patient when amongst crowds and combine that with the hyper-competitive deal hunting that is encouraged via less than stellar sales and you get total fucking chaos.
Look at this video of people tearing into a fucking pallet of memory cards and cameras. Listen to the people blame the store (they're sort of right, more on how the stores fuck you and the employees over in a bit) and constantly push and shove to get just an inch closer during what must have been an unbearable four minute wait to get some shitty merchandise. A coworker who ventured out to a Wal-Mart said people were sneaking up to the pallets that had been dragged out and cutting them open early creating complete bedlam in the store. Considering that, I'm in total shock that somebody didn't get stabbed during Black Friday. And, of course, the customers take out all their frustrations at missing out on the ten video game bundles 2,000 other people wanted on the employees. Like it's their fault you missed out on a doorbuster deal.
But beyond the fact that Black Friday shoppers are in general all assholes we have to add special consideration for the ignorant fucktasters who bring their kids with them on these exciting turkey hangover excursions. We've already addressed the huge gash who pepper sprayed people with her future sociopaths in tow but what about the rest of these morons?
Every year it is well documented how violent, aggressive and uncaring the crowds are so why on Earth would you think it is acceptable to expose your children to this shit? There was a grandfather who got his face slammed into the ground trying to protect the kid from the crowds. In Houston, a two year old kid was apparently punched in the face by some shopaholic cunt. You'd think parents would leave their kids out of this wasteland of humanity.
The retailers are also to blame for how fucked up this society has become in regards to Black Friday but not for the reasons you might think. The day after Thanksgiving is the biggest shopping day of the year in America and knowing that people would be willing to buy a bag of dogshit at a .0001% discount just because it was available (or someone else was moving towards it) motivates the retail industry to offer marginal discounts on already jacked up merchandise in hopes of herding the sheep into their stores. They just tend to up the competitive spirit of the day but advertising 10 motherfucking TV's that 2,000 will show up to fight for knowing that they'll stick around and buy at least something not marked down.
And look at how Wal-Mart, the greatest criminal in this whole fiasco handled their stores. They trucked out wrapped pallets of highly coveted merchandise and dropped it on the floor expecting the early shoppers to patiently wait. What fucking planet are the upper management goons who came up with this game plan living on? Isn't it obvious that if you put something out on the sales floor it should be immediately available to the customers or else you end up creating a mob mentality? Fuck this entire day and everything it represents.
Let's face it, this country is pretty fucked right now. Even menial retail jobs are becoming harder to lock down and when we choose to force ourselves upon people who would rather be chilling with their families so that their mega-corps can gain a competitive advantage over a rival we're essentially encouraging them to keep cutting back basic perks while never upping salaries or the payroll hours expended. Wal-Mart, Target et. all will still reap huge rewards from this ludicrous group think that the best deals will ONLY be featured on Black Friday. So, as a former retail worker with many friends still toiling in its minefield, I plead with you to just stay the fuck home next Black Friday. Or shop Amazon. Because after the biggest Black Friday ever it seems pretty goddamned clear that you fucking jackals aren't going to stop acting like decent human beings anytime soon especially when that cuntrag with the pepper spray was excused for acting in self defense.

Monday, November 21, 2011

Someone Get Me Some Acid So I Can Enjoy the New Thee Oh Sees Record Properly

This band can do no wrong.


Let's skip the intro and bullshit and get right down to it: this woman is awesome and she needs some help. I hope the few readers of this blog can get down with that. For the details, I pass it on to Mrs. Carmen Reddy:
Carmen was able to get some awesome bands together and it should turn out to be a pretty righteous show. Add to that you've got the first Down 'N' Dirties show in 3 years! All you kids who are hip to Chris Gray and his love of the Hell City Kings better show up and check that shit out. My thanks goes out to everyone who pitched in and donated to aid Jasmine in her time of need. If you can't attend and want to send something over the internet message me and I will pass your info along to Mrs. Reddy.

Sunday, November 6, 2011

Wedding DJ's are the Scum of the Earth: An Essay of Rage, Disappointment, and Pure Hatred

So, I got married last night. That was awesome. And from the outset Mrs. Debauchery said that the music duties would be handled by me and I was to fuck off from anything else involving the wedding (when her dietary issues came up along with the flux of vegetarian guests, I had to step up with the menu). I worked my ass off on making something that would work for all of our guests. And boy do they enjoy different music.
At a shower thrown by her aunt and uncle, we were subjected to Journey, Styx and all sorts of other horribleness that I've drank out of my memory. I was given specific requests that I felt I met very well. In addition, many of my friends insisted I not play too much punk or rowdy rock 'n' roll and include some soul and R & B. This was planned from the beginning along with country and rockabilly. I came up with 200 songs I was stoked for and was told by Mrs. Debauchery to narrow it down to 50 and for the last 3 days before the wedding, I tweaked the list and was very happy with the outcome. Would the guests at our wedding? We never got to find that out.
You see, the fuckhead DJ's took it upon themselves to decide what was best for our wedding and because of that, I hope they burn in Rock 'N' Roll Hell, listening to nothing but Lil' John, Nelly and the Black Eyed Peas. All of that horrible shit they inflicted upon my wedding guests.
Let's forget about them fucking up our exit from the ceremony and go ahead to the introduction of the parties. See, my groomsmen were supposed to be introduced to Turbonegro's "Get It On" which was super tits of Mrs. Debauchery to allow. Well, at the last minute the dipshits in charge of our wedding decided the parties should be combined and go in together. Knowing the bridesmaids would not enjoy walking into a reception to Death Punk, I told the fucktards at the DJ booth to just pick something random and to still play the entrance music for me and my bride. When the moment of truth music. So my boys and girls get lead in with no introduction to a crowd that doesn't realize they need to focus on them. A total clusterfuck. Mrs. Debauchery is pissed but I try to assure her us walking into Joey Ramone covering "What a Wonderful World" will rule and make everyone forget that bullshit and when the doors were flung upon...silence. These asshats just had to hit fucking play on a goddamn iPod and they fucked that up.
So, we walk in and all of a sudden the butt dumplings behind the DJ booth are fumbling around with my iPod and I figure, "Oh! Awesome. I'm about to hear the 'Mats and then the Undertones!" Yeah, instead, it was our first dance song. NO ONE told us that shit was going to happen. And then there was a shitload of Sinatra, which, I dig, BUT when those shitbirds played "New York, New York" I almost lost it (ya know, the whole Red Sox thing).
I stayed outside, chain smoking, until I finally heard a guitar that signified that the Runaways were on which meant my iPod had been activated. I rush inside and am confronted with the crushing reality of the Black Eyed Peas being played until Mrs. Debauchery rushed over and told them to cut that song off. This, is why we're married.
As many times as I tried to remind the pair of genital wart infested nutsacks that they needed to bounce back between my iPod and Mrs. Debauchery's list, I was constantly ignored. Instead of hearing Cheap Trick or Jerry Lee Lewis or Buddy Holly, we were subjected to a song about jizzing in chicks faces. Great, assholes. I saw you looking at my playlist with confusion but could you not just do your fucking jobs and just press play on the motherfucking iPod? Not only were our guests turned off by their musical choices, my mom begrudged the lack of Ramones and punk rock at my wedding. Mrs. Debauchery should've let me play some Turquoise Jeep if that's the hip-hop she wanted. At least it would've been listenable. I'm not even getting into the rancid modern country slop they spread across my ears.
Eventually, after the fifth fucking time I told them to play my wedding list they actually did! For ten minutes! When pressed, the DJ's said they were trying to keep the dance-floor filled and that they didn't think my music choices were conducive to a proper wedding reception. Oh really, dick for brains? How do you know what my guests will enjoy? I mean, I'm the one that knows them and their tastes not you! How do you know they aren't all hardcore Baptists who came from a town where a car full of teenagers died in a wreck on their way home from dancing? What if they had Parkinson's and didn't want to risk a fit on floor? Or maybe, just maybe, there are people who attend weddings who could give a fuck less about dancing. Y'know, enjoy meeting family, seeing old friends, hitting the bar and all that jazz. These DJ's were so full of shit that my friend, Rebecca went up and laid into them and said, "Can I get your information so I don't book you for my wedding?"
Bottom line is, wedding DJ's, assholes that you are: Your one job was to hit fucking play on my iPod. That's easy money. You were able to somewhat accommodate my bride but You don't have to think about what the guests want to hear because the people paying you could not care less about it. You are mere monkeys that only had to hit play. You proved yourselves incapable of performing that meager task when you skipped ahead midway through "Tessie" and then backtracked and started it over. What that says to me is that you don't know how to work an iPod. The fuck, guys? That is your chosen profession and you suck at that in such epic amounts it can't be fully understood by the public in this mere blog rant.
But the main reason I was so pissed about the DJ fuck ups wasn't because I didn't look cool because the music was lame. No, it's that I picked a very specific set of songs that I have strong personal attachments to in regards to my wife and friends. I didn't just throw shit onto a playlist to make me look like the god of music and I didn't flippantly ignore the fact that my musical tastes are way off base from most of the people at my wedding. I worked hard to create that balance and some cheesy asshat motherfuckin' cocksuckers who thought it'd be cute to have the theme from Rocky (I am not joking) playing while I removed my wife's garter (I would've chosen Joan Jett's "Do You Wanna Touch Me") didn't let my guests be the final judge. If people had streamlined up to the DJ booth to complain I would have understood that and dealt with it but instead they filed out the fucking door.
And the worst part was after I finally got them to play "The Body of an American" they got on board and played songs by bands who were actually on my playlist! I told them that and they just gave me blank looks. And no one bitched for the rest of the night. Kudos for vindicating me you pair of felch fiends and you and your ilk can all eat a bowl of fuck!
Here is the wedding playlist as it was intended. You can tell me if it would have ruined the evening or upset the vacant dance floor (save for the bridesmaids):
The Replacements - Can't Hardly Wait
The Undertones - Teenage Kicks
Small Faces - Sha-La-La-La-Lee
New York Dolls - Looking for a Kiss
The Ramones - She's the One
Nobunny - I am a Girlfriend
The Runaways - You Drive Me Wild
Sweet - Wig Wam Bam
Big Star - When My Baby's Beside Me
Alice Cooper - Be My Lover
Cheap Trick - Southern Girls
Jerry Lee Lewis - Lovin' Up a Storm
Buddy Holly - Rave On
The Cramps - Trapped Love
The Pogues - The Body of an American
Dropkick Murphys - Tessie
The Clash - Train in Vain (Stand by Me)
King Khan and the Shrines - Burnin' Inside
Johnny Thunders and the Heartbreakers - I Love You
The Devil Dogs - I'm Gonna Make You Mine
The Beach Boys - God Only Knows (1967 Rehearsal)
Sam Cooke - (What a) Wonderful World
Jimmy Cliff - Come Into My Life
Al Green - You Ought to be with Me
Sharon Jones and the Dap-Kings - I'll Still Be True
King Khan and the Shrines - Welfare Bread
Black Keys - Your Touch
The Pixies - Gigantic
The Action - She's Got My Heart
The Only Ones - Another Girl, Another Planet
Exploding Hearts - I'm a Pretender
Damone - On My Mind
The Wildhearts - Someone That Won't Let Me Go
The Muffs - A Little Luxury
The Queers - I Always Knew
The Unlovables - Doot Da Doot
Jawbreaker - Into You Like a Train
Generation X - Kiss Me Deadly
Davila 666 - Yo Seira Otro
Mark Sultan - Sweeter Than Wine
Buddy Holly - You've Got Love
Patsy Cline - You Belong to Me
Old 97's - You Belong to My Heart
T. Rex - Ballroom of Mars
The National - Bloodbuzz Ohio
The Phaetons - I Love My Baby
The Sonics - Do You Love Me
The Jam - Non Stop Dancing
Electric Six - Danger! High Voltage
Blondie - Atomic

Monday, October 31, 2011

A Quick Thought on My Upcoming Wedding

Saturday, I will be marrying the love of my life, the soon to be Mrs. Debauchery. I couldn't be happier about this. As I continue to construct the playlist for the wedding (one which I know will get truncated at some point, we've agreed to split our iPods and I'm doing my best to be accommodating to people who want to hear Pat Benatar and modern country) I keep getting dragged back into songs that I flippantly thought would be cool to put on a wedding playlist (The 'Mats, "Can't Hardly Wait," the Jive Five's "Do You Hear Wedding Bells?" The Scientists "Why Don't We Get Together Tonight") I realized that most of what I picked were the songs I first played over and over in my old study, getting ripped off whiskey every night after hauling my ass home from the book store in defeated agony, in the bouts between her visits to my house or just a quick drink together (Mrs. Debauchery worked day and night jobs at this point). Listening to those tunes while thinking of her made my life a ton more enjoyable (whiskey didn't hurt either, just saying).
However, there were some songs that we both really enjoy that she made me promise not to include on the final list (The Cramps "Like a Bad Girl Should" being the biggest red flag along with the Supersuckers "She's My Bitch"). I'm cool with this. But, there is one song that is not getting left off despite it's S&M themes: Nobunny's "I am a Girlfriend."
See, Nobunny and the Spits were the first show we went to together, ( I DJ'd!) and Mrs. Debauchery really dug Nobunny and has since discovered the joys of the Okmoniks, the Sneaky Pinks and Hunx and his Punx first album. We kinda consider it "our" song since it's the first band I got her to dig and we'd blast the record across the house while dancing with GRRR (our dog) and it made our worlds seem to collide in a really sweet way. My unabashed love of raw and dirty punk rock combining with her love of catchy hooks and vocals she could understand. We're a weird pair. I'm marrying a woman who likes Taylor Swift (or Tay-Tay, as she, for some reason I don't want to know calls her), fell in love with Good Clean Fun when she first heard them and had a fucking blast watching Guitar Wolf at the Free Press Summer Fest. Yet, I can't get her to listen to a Ty Segall record without her twitching two seconds into it.
And I couldn't be any fucking happier about it.
So, here's Nobunny performing "our song" at Rudz in May of 2010.

Saturday, October 8, 2011

From my previous life as a bookseller

Bored one day, and just before the liquidation shit would hit the fan, a few co-workers and I came up with this lovely display. Sadly, people actually bought the books merched here. Still, I think a nice point was made.

Tuesday, October 4, 2011

Can We Please Quit Getting Cute with Metal?

Are you ready to have your mind blown? Not over what about you are going to listen to if you click the link below but that a group apparent music enthusiasts thought this would be a good fucking idea. Get ready for, a capella metal.
Did any of that make fucking sense to you? Me, neither. It's like Rockapella's kids grew up to realize what huge tools their fathers were and decided to bail to Europe and get metal. Except, they realized the only talent they had were for making kazoo sounds, the baritone growl of that annoying Crazy Frog fad and for making "eeeevil" and "scaaaary" faces at the camera. So, they hooked up with a goth chick and what has to be the most desperate drummer to be in a band ever and here we are.
Alright, let's break this bitch down.
0:03: Okay, if I'm watching some dude ride in on a horse it better be Game of Thrones and some motherfuckers better about to be annihilated in the goriest fashion possible.
0:05: What the fuck was that? We just jump right into the whole D&D metal theme? Here's a quick tip, Van Canto, Dragonforce are only cool for doing that shit because THEY FUCKING SHRED! Can your a capella scale solos compete with that? Let's see.
0:07: And we meet the band which seems to comprised of non-unibrow Eli Roth, a chick who wasn't fat enough to the be to Gothpera singer in Cradle of Filth, an odd Rob Halford/Anton Lavey mixture (metal points for that) and Shawn Michaels. Fucking fantastic. Let's rock this joint!
0:10: /smacks drummer over the nose with a rolled up newspaper.
NO! NO! Bad drummer! First of all, put those sticks down asshat, this ain't rockin' and second you are enabling the suck. I'm pretty sure without your presence they would've never attempted this shit Big Black style. Hopefully, you make them your kit bitch and never have to move, set up or breakdown a thing.
0:24: Ah, so we're gonna hear this chick wail a little bit. Awesome, this song could really use some more filler. In fact, I thought it was over before the...verse? Whatever ever the fuck this is that's going on now.
0:52: So, is she like telling him you can wreck this body if you find the One Ring or something? Just a vibe I'm getting.
0:54: That medieval middle school kid is like, "Fuck that noise!" You see that look in his eyes? That means tits or GTFO, lady! But, he's got no other choice, right?
1:04: Or does he? Look at him cop a feel of that statue? Okay, so pseudo date rape is what's setting the narrative to this video in motion. Whatever.
1:07: Every time they do the "dumdumdumdumdumdumdumdum" thing it makes wish that I was watching a metal version of South Park's "All About Mormons." I can't be alone in that.
1:40: Quit cutting to Shawn Michaels. I think this video might be like the one from Ringu and he's gonna pull a Sadako and come through the screen to rape me. Actually, I am so afraid of this being true it's the reason I got you to watch the video in the first place. Suckers!
2:04: YEEEESSS! Lavey/Halford! Have the kid burn the cross! Let's get METAAAAAL! Wait, why the fuck is he walking away from it? Okay, okay, I forgive you for not making it upside down. Just send him back there with a book of matches and a gas can!
2:18: Put your horns down, twat muffin. Going "ringdigityringdigityringdigityring" does not mean you are rocking a goddamned thing.
2:27: Aaaaaaand here we come to the solo. It's like 30 tracks of kindergarten kazoo playing layered on top of each other. Blink 182 called and said Van Canto uses way too many tracks.
2:30: See homechick finger pointing the guy while he is making the international hand gesture for jerking off? This is the reason Metalocalypse was created.
2:42: I'd never thought I would say this but this song really drags without the girl singing. Or is it that I glean faint entertainment from average cleavage being shamelessly sold?
2:50: It's your last test, my son. Run through the fiery vagina and you will reborn being able to proclaim stake to the chick you molested earlier in the video. It is your birthright!
3:06: Yeah, I know he's not drumming that fast but because in in THIS band...he's totally using a trigger.
3:20: Halford/Lavey just smiled. There go your metal points, bro.
3:35: Holy shit, are we really doing the whole kazoo solo thing again? Didn't it suck enough the first time?
3:38: Apparently not! They had to double down with the Thin Lizy style dual kazoo solo! It'll melt yo face off!
4:00: See how she said, "In me the wishmaster?" Totally called that she wanted to bang Young Ned of the Shire.
4:14: TOTAL VINDICATION! See, he totally grabbed her tit. And made the rest of the band go away! Unfortunately we still have a few more seconds with this song.
3:00: Nevermind. It drags just the same. Even when you factor in the cleavage.