Experimental screaming: “What’s the best way to build self‑confidence?”

Listen. Times are tough all over—war, poverty, unemployment, inflation, Christo-fascism, autocracy, repression, corruption, etc. But one care-free afternoon in April I checked the ol’ inter-blog for a creamy fix—I do this to remember what my favorite album is from a given year—and my custom-HTML’d homepage grid was seriously inter-fucked. You mean the hackneyed three-column layout, held together with list classes and figure captions and needing to be updated manually every goddamn time I posted, got borked into a single, nonsensical bulleted list? This ain’t rock & roll, this is genocide!

So here come the blocks, a good seven years after WordPress incorporated them. No more gallery-item this and href that as I panic over readers lost during the precious seconds between publishing and carrying over the URL et al to the homepage. Instead: automation, and trusting it. What can go wrong? These are the problems I create for myself. Get to it.

1. Creedence Clearwater Revival – Keep on Chooglin’
What can go wrong, he says?? How about the Netflix-inspired title of this bullshit? Enshittification wishes us good luck when all we want to do is continue watching Cobra Kai instead of whatever generic bullshit came out yesterday. Aye, nature’s response is to keep on chooglin’ as the Earth thrives upon humanity vaporizing itself.

The song popularized the neologism “chooglin’.” John Fogerty explained the term chooglin’ as what happens when “you got to ball and have a good time.” Lyrics of the song such as “Here comes Louie, works in the sewer, he gonna choogle tonight” imply that chooglin’ is especially done by the working class, but other lyrics such as “If you can choose it, who can refuse it, y’all be chooglin’ tonight” imply that everyone can choogle.

This analysis brings me so much joy. Ohmygodwait! Fundamentally humorless toe-fucker Bobby Christgau has something to say!

Creedence: Where do you go from the top?

[…] Fogerty’s compositions (two big exceptions: “Proud Mary” and “Lookin’ Out My Back Door”) fall into two approximate categories: choogling songs…

That’s “choogling” with g-retention.

…about rock & roll and songs of social and personal protest. […] The two categories come together in “Down on the Corner,” which is about poor boys who choogle. The energy implied by coinages like “choogle” and “ramble tamble” has more to do with vigor than with potency, more to do with simple activity than with sexuality.

I cut out the bit about “the politics of agape rather than the politics of eros” because what the fuck is this bullshit. You’re welcome.

2. Jucifer – Long Live the King
I know one Jucifer song and if you think this is some plea for mercy in the face of… competent?… federal agents kicking my door down over season XVI, week VII’s “Kill the King” then you overestimate my reader base. “I don’t need you arooouuund!”

3. DJ Format/Abdominal – Forged From Hardship
Forged from hardship, alright. I’m guessing Bensonhurst or East New York or someplace like th–

DJ Format is a hip-hop DJ born in Southampton, England who lives in Brighton. He collaborates frequently with Abdominal, a Canadian rapper from Toronto, Ontario.

I guess anyone who samples Eric B. & Rakim’s “In the Ghetto,” Mind Garage’s “Asphalt Mother” and Muddy Waters’s “Tom Cat” (from the exceptionally unpopular—by Muddy’s own standards—Electric Mud) can do whatever they want from what remains of NATO.

4. Gwenifer Raymond – Bonfire of the Billionaires
It’s too bad Raymond is Welsh because this liberal, populist campaign song would sweep her and decency into the White House despite every Republican effort to keep non-idiots from voting. Last year’s Last Night I Heard the Dog Star Bark is good all the way through—at least in the format of downloaded MP3s from Bandcamp. Alternatively: what say you, pedantic Discogs community?

“Great music, cheap packaging that arrived with a dented corner. You would think with a limited run they’d try to make it somewhat special.”

“Slightly warped vinyl, but otherwise a very good pressing, and a really great album.”

“There were a couple of random crackles but somehow it just added to the heart of the album in giving it a timeless sound.”

See how easy it is to brainwash people into overpaying for a degenerative medium? Make Vinyl Stupid Again.

5. Fire! – You Liked Me Five Minutes Ago
6. Malaria! – Your Turn to Run (I Will Be Your Only One)
Exclamation mark block! Band names Fire! (not to be confused with the English “Father’s Name Is Dad” Fire) and Malaria! (not to be confused with the mosquito-borne infectious disease) are meant to be shouted at you in detached Swedish and direct German, respectively, and if the playlist bogs down at all it is here, with three goddamn hours to go. Don’t mind me, though, because I never really warmed up to last year’s FU—getting laid off in the middle of things will take the fun out of anything. Today? With fresh ears and a new job? That shit slays from front to back. Of course.

7. Julie Ruin – Be Nice
A month ago, all of a sudden one of G’s favorite songs was Le Tigre’s “Deceptacon.” Le Tigre’s “Deceptacon”! What is a father to do? Well, step one was to add a bunch of Bikini Kill, Le Tigre and the Julie Ruin to our shared MONKEY ROCK playlist. (Sadly, the OG Julie Ruin LP isn’t available on Spotify.) She didn’t go for “Be Nice” so much but she dug West Side Story outtake “Finale” enough for several replays. Step two:

The Punk Singer was excellent and I look forward to someday watching it with my fiercely independent and principled daughter.

Step three: excluding “New Radio” from MONKEY ROCK. Step four: an all-ages Bikini Kill show on a school night in Brighton, if I get my way. (Wish us luck that Post Malone isn’t playing around the corner this time.) And step five, if she ever again feels like reading for pleasure: lending her my signed copy of Rebel Girl: My Life As a Feminist Punk. I will debate you at the college of your choice!

8. Osees – Glue
“Glue,” a.k.a. “GLÜE” (as listed on Bandcamp), was an early favorite from last year’s inevitably Creamy® Abomination Revealed at Last. It’s good to have the guitars back but I would love to hear the band incorporate more of Sorcs 80’s saxophones. They have a future album that will be a perfect mix of Fun House, Space Ritual and Law of Ruins, even if I have to drive through Boston on my way to Providence to hear it live. UPDÄTE: No, this perfect album isn’t the surprise new Off Course, but I swear to god we’re getting closer. We just need saxophones.

9. Damon & Naomi – ETA
WGBH’s The Big Dig podcast was an interesting way to remember riding my bike down to the Charles River to watch the construction of the future Zakim Bridge, though not interesting enough to keep me from zoning out during large chunks of their multiple hour-long episodes. Additional non-Big Dig series about scratch tickets and fishing regulations left me just as hollow—sure, I learned a little something, but I retained a little less. Drag. Anyway, local favorites (?) Damon & Naomi supplied season one’s closing theme with “ETA,” taken from the excellently titled non-compilation More Sad Hits. “All alone, I sat there long ago.” RIP the Lower Deck.

10. Chrissy Zebby Tembo – Fisherman
11. Kingdom Come – No Time
Tembo is supported here by the Ngozi Family of “War Pigs” riff fame. Zamrock! Kingdom Come is led here by thee Arthur Brown of “This is obviously Arthur Brown singing” fame. This is a raid!

12. Magick Potion – Never Change
Speaking of stealing from Black Sabbath, Magick Potion must have listened to a lot of “A National Acrobat” while writing “Never Change.” You gotta believe, yeah!

Magick Potion is a hard-hitting heavy rock trio channeling the raw energy and heavy grooves of the late sixties and early seventies. Clearly hooked on the likes of underrated groups such as Blue Cheer, the Amboy Dukes and Budgie, the band crafts a sound that fuses heavy rock’s gritty riffs with contrasting moments boarding on psychedelia.

“Boarding on”? Like they sleep there? I fixed other typos for you but I’m leaving that one in—no wonder I had a hard time choosing between this, “Fever Dream” and “Empress.”

13. Jack DeJohnette – Picture 1
DeJohnette, who died in October and is the first RIP of the playlist (aside from Damon & Naomi’s Lower Deck), plays drums and organ (and piano?) on “Picture 1,” which is track one of his Pictures LP, which has five other songs named “Picture 2,” “Picture 3,” etc. “Picture 4.” “Picture 5,” dig? And “6”? “Picture 6”? You got that right. You can pull off this shit when you drum for Miles Davis during his controversial late sixties and early seventies. “I was aware of Bitches Brew like I was aware of vegetarian chili—it exists, but why? And for whom?” For me, dummy!

14. Make-Up – Type U Blood
Let me see if I understand what’s playing out here:

Ian Svenonius, vampire: Baby, it’s a good thing your blood type isn’t O+ or AB- or any of that shit, because if I were to drink that I’d be a goner. I mean, I’m already undead, right baby? But shit, it would kill me dead-dead, a terrible dead-death. Nasty. So I’m saying, because I have type U blood—stagnant blood, but still—then that’s all I can drink from victims’ necks, right? Straight U. If I were to drink A+ or what have you, even a drop of it, anything but type U, it’s all over for yours truly.

Presumed victim and vampire-to-be: Yeah, totally, I’m not any of those others. I’m, uh, type U for sure. One hundred percent.

Svenonius: Thank Dracula you got the same type U blood in your veins!

Victim: Right-O.

Svenonius: Everyone thinks I look like a werewolf, especially on that Cupid Car Club sleeve. If only. Werewolves can drink whatever they want—they’re monsters.

Victim: Yup. But even if a werewolf drank my blood, he’d be all “This is the best type U I’ve ever had.” Like, “Damn, I wish I were a vampire.” Erm… “Delicious!”

Svenonius: I’m glad that’s settled. Before I partake, though, and to make sure you have somewhere safe to rest when the sun’s out, we need a fresh grave. Or, you know, we could find one big enough for both of us to, uh, share. Get a double-wide coffin. If that’s OK with you?

Victim: Oh yeah, I wouldn’t have it any other way… uh, baby. I’ll tell you, though, I’m really anxious for immortality. Sooner than later. Aren’t you thirsty?

Svenonius: Type U blood in your veins. [Smiles.]

Victim: That’s good, right? That’s good? You got the same?

Menacing keyboard drone: Don’t mind me easing into the mix.

Svenonius: Eternity with you, baby, would be just like a day. I’ll suck your neck. [Bites.]

Victim: Anything wrong?

Svenonius: [Screams.] It’s somethin’ else! It’s somethin’ else! [Whimpers.] [Perishes.]

15. Portishead – Glory Box
Isaac Hayes collecting royalty checks in heaven today! Again! Portishead’s Geoff Barrow regarding the release of “Glory Box” as Dummy’s third single:

“We had a row with the record company because we didn’t want to release it because it felt too commercial. It’s fine in a body of work, but not as a standalone track. We lost the argument really. But we bought houses!”

Technically it is not “standalone” when inserted a third of the way through a three-hour-plus playlist.

Subsequently, the success of “Glory Box” not only impacted Beth Gibbons financially but also emotionally, as she commented on the challenges of conveying genuine emotion, stating that achieving success with the song sometimes made her feel more isolated.

Yes, but from inside a house she owned, amiright?

She reflected on its success in an interview with the Independent: “It’s sort of successful and you think you’ve communicated with people, but then you realize you haven’t communicated with them at all—you’ve turned the whole thing into a product,.”

Beth, how’s about you invite everyone over to your new house for afternoon tea. Would this help you deal with this… crisis of success, is it? Riiiight.

16. Impressions – The Young Mods’ Forgotten Story
17. Small Faces – Rollin’ Over
In which Curtis Mayfield, Sam Gooden and Fred Cash remind everyone that the Steve Marriott-led Small Faces were infinitely better than the Rod Stewart-led Faces. Ripping off the “Foxy Lady” riff in the middle of a fairy tale about Happiness Stan searching for the other half of the moon? Timely! More on that later!

18. Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band – The Bride Stripped Bare by “The Bachelors”
Pedantic motherfuckers like me value accurate labeling of owned (always owned) digital music and suffer greatly at the laxity of this band and song. Here are the inconsistencies as listed within their official, contemporary catalog. What’s in a name?

• “The Bonzo Dog Doo Dah Band” – as on the label for their 1966 “Alley Oop” single.
• “Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band” – as on the sleeve and label for 1967’s Gorilla LP.
• “Bonzo Dog Band” – as on the sleeves for 1968’s The Doughnut in Granny’s Greenhouse, 1969’s Tadpoles, 1969’s Keynsham and 1972’s Let’s Make Up and Be Friendly LPs.
• “The Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band” – as on the label for The Doughnut in Granny’s Greenhouse.
• “The Bonzo Dog Band,” as on the labels for Tadpoles, Keynsham and Let’s Make Up and Be Friendly.

Variety is the spice of madness! And now for the nested-quotation-marks track I chose among dozens, for some reason, with “Mr. Apollo” right there in its simplicity:

• “The Bride Stripped Bare by ‘Bachelors’” – as on Keynsham’s sleeve.
• “Bride Stripped Bare by ‘The Bachelors’” – as on Keynsham’s label.

How’s about some extracurricular complication, leading to an unfortunate spelling alternative on some releases?

Horace Cyril Batchelor was an English gambling advertiser. His spelling out of Keynsham, a town in western England where he operated, made it famous. […] The Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band [sic! goddammit!] named an album Keynsham. The Bonzos…

I accept this nickname.

…referenced Batchelor on other occasions as well: his voice is imitated at the start of the [that album’s] “You Done My Brain In” and his is one of the names listed as a spoof band member in Gorilla’s “The Intro and the Outro.”

Even the controversy-free spelling of its album title Keynsham is a goddamn mystery for me to pronounce—maybe I can track down Horace’s old Radio Luxembourg broadcasts for guidance. Anyway, this song, whatever it’s called, introduced me to a joke that rivals my interrupting cow from thirty years ago. Their version smells a bit non sequitur-y thanks to the rhino house/vindaloo lead-in but I tracked down a traditional telling:

”My sister married an Irishman.”

”Oh, really?”

”No, sir, O’Reilly.”

19. The Pentangle – Pentangling
20. Jim Woehrle/Michael Yonkers – Lonely Children
RIP, continued in block form. First up is bass player Danny Thompson from Pentangle, a.k.a. the Pentangle, as listed on the self-titled debut’s sleeve and label. Consistency, people! As CCR’s “chooglin’” begat “choogle,” so does “Pentangle” suggest “Pentangling.” Next is the recently departed Michael Yonkers, who Yonkered his way across volumes three, seven and eleven with a fairly limited discography. Joined here by “old musical mate” Jim Woehrle, they implore “Please hurry, hurry to the great beyond.” Too many motherfuckers are taking that advice for me to include everyone in a forty-eight-song set where I also need to make room for, you know, moon launches and the Olympics.

21. Thee Headcoatees – The Money Will Roll Right In
Grand plans to feature Thee Headcoats’ “My Dear Watson” fell flat upon my first read-through of Arthur Conan Doyle’s The Hound of the Baskervilles or, frankly, any Sherlock Holmes media whatsoever. “Oh Mr. Holmes, tell me, what do you deduce?” It’s a lousy book. Two stars. “Don’t much like the sound of that, Holmes.” I suspect I won’t like the sound of any Holmes—therefore, heavens to Murgatroyd, it’s Thee She-Headcoats Headcoatees to the rescue! Mudhoney improved Fang’s 1982 original “The Money Will Roll Right In” on 1991’s Let It Slide EP (and countless live recordings) but I’ll be fucked if Thee Headcoatees didn’t top the pile thirty-four goddamn years later.

Roll right in.
Roll right in.
Roll right in.
Roll right in.
Roll right in.
Roll right in.
Roll right in.
Rolll riiight innn.

Ladies, you’re three caskets short this year.

22. Beach Boys – Lonely Sea
23. Terry Reid – Tinker Taylor
I can’t be alone in thinking Brian Wilson died years ago. Not just mentally or metaphorically but real-deal died. So was I surprised to learn the news last June—before Volume 17 published but after the playlist was settled, not that I would have gone out of my way to cram in a Beach Boys song so soon after an essentially Brian-less “It’s About Time” blew the doors off Volume 14 anyway. Drag. “Lonely Sea” seems an appropriate tribute—lovely, mature and lonely among a sea of Surfin’ USA’s falsettos, surf knockoffs and Chuck Berry lawsuits. Brian might not have done much of worth during my lifetime but he means a lot to a lot of people and, I’m sure, to a lot of my reader. RIP. Talk about the opposite—Terry Reid, who had a wonderful interview a couple of years ago on the excellent Strange Brew podcast, has every right to hold a grudge against Led Zeppelin weak link Robert Plant and he couldn’t be a more cheerful, engaging, interesting musician right to the end. Talk about blowing doors off, or maybe kicking the door shut in the face of encroaching MAGAts in order to ponder what the fuck was (is) happening to our country. “Tinker Taylor” (on the label; it’s “Tinker Tailor” on the sleeve because fuck me) sounds cheerier than Volume 9’s “July” but is no less wistful: “Sail me away on the open tide.” You’re goddamn right.

24. Nina Simone – Sinner Man
What can go wrong?

Healthcare brand FIGS celebrates epic sporting returns
January 26, 2026

FIGS, the leading global healthcare apparel brand, has announced a new partnership with one of the most successful alpine skiers in history, Lindsey Vonn, during the 2026 Olympic and Paralympic Winter Games. In their campaign launched today, FIGS celebrates the medical team who supported Vonn during her return to racing.

And playing over clips of X-rayed broken bones, scanned torn ligaments, the pixelated word “loss,” high-speed downhill wipeouts, an all-caps “RETIRED” and thirty seconds of physical therapy?

Track title – Sinnerman [sic]

“The lyrics describe a sinner attempting to hide from divine justice on Judgment Day.”

Lindsey Vonn on life after her Olympic crash
April 7, 2026

Two months after the most devastating crash of her career… [etc.]

Director Giordano Maestrelli: the fuck you thinking? Next up: “Four Women” advertising Axe Body Spray.

25. Helium – Flower of the Apocalypse
Whether it’s Helium, Wild Flag, Ex Hex or under her own name, Mary Timony is creeping up the charts, out-represented across nineteen creamy volumes—eighteen plus zero equals nineteen—only by Ty Segall (fourteen appearances), John Dwyer (thirteen), Six Finger Satellite (nine), Steve Albini (nine), Can (eight), Ian Svenonius (eight) and Mudhoney (eight). It was kind of foretold, right? 1995’s The Dirt of Luck was my second Helium purchase after the Pirate Prude EP and blew that out of the water—it rarely left my five-disc changer. Sexy shoegaze: alright! With 2024’s “Dominoes” remaining my second-most-played song of all time on Spotify and, seemingly, no slowing down on her part, I see Mary gaining ground rather than losing it in the coming years.

26. Wire – Mercy
Imagine you form a rock/punk/post-punk band, release three albums in consecutive years and break up. Then, twenty-seven years later, some online rag ditches their self-imposed decimal rating system to rate your first two albums a perfect, whole 10/10, with the third reverting (and underwhelming?) at 9.1/10. I guess it’s a good thing you broke up! Anyway: you are not make-believe but rather Wire. Congratulations! Jim DeRogatis pretends to love you!

27. Lalo Schifrin – Shifting Gears
I have two versions of the Bullitt soundtrack and, apparently, neither is what you hear while watching the movie:

The tracks released on the album are alternate versions of those heard in the film and were re-recorded at the film producers’ insistence for a more “pop”-oriented soundtrack. […] In 2000, the original movie arrangements were recreated by Schifrin in a recording session with the WDR Big Band in Cologne, Germany. This later version of the soundtrack includes reconstructions of the 1968 soundtrack album arrangements for some tracks. […] The actual movie version of the music, from the recording sessions as heard in the film, was finally made available in 2009 by Film Score Monthly.

A copy of this last can be yours (mine?) on Discogs, “from the private collection of science fiction writer Randall Larson excellent.”

28. Groundhogs – Death of the Sun
29. Traffic Sound – You Got to Be Sure!
30. Mr. Airplane Man – Johnny Johnny
Let’s hear it again for the movies and television! Those forms of entertainment don’t get enough attention, certainly from self-referential award shows and whatnot—can you imagine the energy bills? Anyway, I did see a great movie at the cinema in Project Hail Mary, enjoying it immensely a few years after feeling the same way about Andy Weir’s book. That’s a hard trick, and anyone who dislikes either can eat shit. On the smaller screen, I (sadly) reached Cobra Kai’s conclusion after six seasons of pure joy. Fan service can be a crutch but they brought (literally?) everyone back—I’m there for it, babe. Give William Zabka as Johnny (Lawrence) Johnny (Lawrence) one of those goddamn awards already. Elsewhere, Pluribus was good, not great, but it featured a strong soundtrack—“You Got to Be Sure!” plays over episode eight’s closing credits and sounds as though Peru’s Traffic Sound hadn’t yet nailed down the lyrics… or the English. “Sly bees to shore”? It’s not from a lack of band members.

31. L7 – Wargasm
Donita Sparks joined the interviewer-less interview podcast Life of the Record and mentioned that she was “really digging” the Plastic Ono Band’s Some Time in New York City LP while L7 wrote and recorded Bricks Are Heavy:

[I wanted] to sample Yoko for “Wargasm” ’cause her vocals are so passionate and so off the rails in expressiveness. We reached out to her to see if we could use that and she said yes.

A douchebag enters: the sample is actually lifted from “John John (Let’s Hope for Peace)” from the earlier Live Peace in Toronto 1969. Said source material is something, alright.

And then my management said, “Hey, Yoko Ono’s gonna call you, she wants to talk to you.” And I was just like, “What? Oh my god. What am I gonna say to Yoko Ono?” And she called me and I was pretty nervous and I didn’t have much to say. And I said, “I’m sorry I’m not talking that much, I’m kind of nervous.” And she was just very cool and very supportive of our band and what we were doing. It was cool getting the nod from her—she liked the lyrics and she thought it was a cool song.

On the subject matter, which serves as a reminder that Republicans are a goddamn cancer:

“Wargasm” was just something, you know, we were going to war with, uh… I guess it was Desert Storm? I don’t know which one it was. It was, like, the first George Bush president was going to war. And so we were all of a sudden in war again, and it was, like, what the fuck? I didn’t know that this country was in for like so many more decades of war, it seemed like war was kind of a thing of the past when Vietnam ended, you know, and then all the sudden we were in a war again. But, you know, there are some lines in there that are darkly humorous in a way.

L7’s sense of humor is underrated by anyone who hasn’t seen them live a bunch of times. Example:

Wargasm, wargasm, one-two-three,
Tie a yellow ribbon ’round the amputee.

32. Country Joe McDonald – The FISH FUCK Cheer/I-Feel-Like-I’m-Fixin’-to-Die Rag (Live)
33. Sly & the Family Stone – Sing a Simple Song (Live)
34. Otis Redding – Try a Little Tenderness (Live)
35. Kiss – She (Live)
Donita protested war and challenged the 1992 Reading Festival’s audience to “Eat my used tampon, fuckers!” So, too, did Country Joe McDonald antagonize the Saturday crowd at Woodstock:

Sing it! “One, two, three, what are we fightin’ for? Don’t ask me, I don’t give a damn.” Louder! [Continues away from microphone.] “…Vietnam… five, six, seven, open up the pearly gates. Welll, there ain’t no time to wonder why, whoopee! We’re all gonna…” Listen, people, I don’t know how you expect to ever stop the war if you can’t sing any better than that. There’s about three hundred thousand of you fuckers out there, I want you to start singin’! Come on!

Thus begins another RIP block, as Country Joe—sans Barry “The Fish” Melton and the rest—fills in for a delayed Santana. The full band is terribly overrated in the way that most San Francisco bands were (Blue Cheer: underrated) due to cross-promotional songwriting and intercourse, plus what sounds like the same gear being passed around from van to van. Country Joe was a dynamic performer with Jim Morrison’s good looks but his band was hobbled by an image that took itself too seriously and/or not seriously enough and, to boot, couldn’t really play their instruments well. Aside from a handful of good songs, their five studio albums from 1967 to 1970 are as anonymous as anything—“they went back to the well only to find there wasn’t much there.” No shit. Still, you gotta love the man’s passion: “WHAT’S THAT SPELL? WHAT’S THAT SPELL? WHAT’S THAT SPELL?” About twelve hours later on the same stage—at half past three Sunday morning—Sly & the Family Stone played what might be the greatest documented live set in history. I tell you, “I Want to Take You Higher” and “Soul Sacrifice” from the Woodstock movie turned me into instant goddamn Sly and Santana fans when I first saw it in my early twenties. Sure, Sly went a little drug-nuts in the long run, but he never went full MAGA like Carlos, who simply doesn’t understand how much Trump hates Mexican-Americans. Next is Steve Cropper backing Otis Redding at the Monterey Pop Festival as part of the Booker T. & the MG’s/Mar-Keys multiracial super group. Jones:

I think we did one of our best shows, Otis and the MG’s. That we were included in that was something of a phenomenon. They were accepting us and that was one of the things that really moved Otis. He was happy to be included and it brought him a new audience.

“‘I got to go, y’all, I don’t wanna go,’ said Redding, and left the stage of his last major concert.” At least Cropper had almost sixty more years in him as one of those musicians adored by other musicians. Last up in this bummer-fest is Ace Frehley from Kiss, as if there’s another. Missing his Derry, New Hampshire set in January 2025 is a regret I will take to my own grave:

1. Shock Me
2. Deuce
3. Cherry Medicine (“Here’s a new song…”)
4. Rock Soldiers (Frehley’s Comet)
5. Love Gun
6. Rocket Ride
7. Parasite
8. Detroit Rock City
9. Rip It Out (Ace Frehley)
10. She
11. New York Groove (Ace Frehley)
12. Cold Gin
13. Shout It Out Loud
14. Rock & Roll All Nite

So what if Ace rips off the Doors’ “Five to One” halfway through “She”—they rip themselves off, too, transposing the “Let Me Know” coda onto this definitive Alive! performance for some reason. Gimme a break, they’re all bangers, alright? Anyway, about six minutes in is when the smoke starts pouring out of Ace’s guitar, and studio overdubs can never smother that heat. “Ace Frehley, lead guitar!” Fuck yeah! Oh no, here comes Peter Criss to bring us home, sounding like he’s beating on overturned Dixie cups with a set of those giant novelty pencils from our youth. Can we all agree that Neil Peart might have played faster and in more complicated time signatures but just as flaccidly as Criss? Enough. RIP John Rutsey.

36. Bill Withers – In My Heart
37. Royal Trux – Witch’s Tit
These are two songs I tried to work into last year’s set—“In My Heart” almost kicked it off, and “Witch’s Tit” was (obviously) going to join the Wicked block. I’ve yet to see Wicked: For Good, for some reason, but Royal Trux is overdue following a five-year absence. As for Withers, sometimes he’s the only thing giving me hope that a post-Trump future exists, and that memories of better times can be restored:

A man can lose a photograph, so just in case,
I keep your portrait close to me in a special place:
In my heart, in my heart, in my heart, in my heart,
In my heart, hey-hey, in my heart, in my heart, heart, hey.

It takes the man ninety seconds to sing “in my heart” seven times. This is the determination we need, right?

38. Sampa the Great – Can’t Hold Us
“Zamrock—with its heady blend of psychedelic rock and traditional Zambian sounds—rears its head on ‘Can’t Hold Us,’ the first single to be released from Sampa the Great’s upcoming album.” BBC, tell me more!

“We were looking for a sound and a voice that was so post-colonial,” the Zambian-born, Botswanan-raised rapper told the BBC. “And Zamrock was that sound—that sound of new freedom, that sound of boldness.” […] She’s not the only contemporary artist who has been digging through Zamrock’s dusty crates. In the past few years US hitmakers Travis Scott, Yves Tumour and Tyler, the Creator have sampled tracks from Ngozi Family, Amanaz and Witch—all popular bands in Zamrock’s 1970s heyday.

Adds Amanaz’s Africa to Spotify playlist CHECK ME OUT YO.

[…] “We were influenced by rock bands like Deep Purple, Grand Funk Railroad, Led Zeppelin, Jimi Hendrix, James Brown,” says Witch frontman Emmanuel Chanda, better known as Jagari, after Mick Jagger. “But we were Africans. We wanted to play like those rock bands but then the African aspect was also calling: ‘You can’t leave me behind.’” Sampa says her upcoming album, which does not yet have a release date…

So far as I can tell, it still does not, five months later. Can hold up! Can hold up! Can hold up!

…falls into a genre she calls “nu Zamrock.”

Appending “nu” to an existing label—why not??

Although she has experimented with Zamrock before, this time its rhythms will run through her entire album, mixed with other influences like hip-hop. “I think Zamrock’s resurgence will be something that is really huge,” she says. In New Zealand, Jagari is elated that Sampa and her counterparts are running with the genre he helped birth. “The fire has been lit,” he says. “It’s up to the younger generation to put more firewood to it and let the flames burn.”

Can’t hold a flame that’s reborn.

39. Stereolab – K-Stars
“K-Stars” is a standout from Stereolab’s pretty great 1992 debut LP Peng! I didn’t get into the band until two years later—magical year, that—with Mars Audiac Quintet, and though I did backtrack to Peng! and Transient Random-Noise Bursts With Announcements (plus the singles compilations Switched On and Refried Ectoplasm) following Emperor Tomato Ketchup’s 1996 (and beyond) reign of excellence, Peng! is what I played through the least for some reason. This is an effort to make up for it. In addition, my new favorite podcast—discovered post facto, though with a deep catalog of episodes—is Six-Pack:

Each episode, Melbourne music lovers and drinking buddies Gareth and Ryan share a six-pack of beer and some favourite tunes from a randomly chosen year in musical history. Nonsense, hilarity and good times!

Favourite with a U! Man, does this undersell how good a show it is (was). Here’s some back and forth during an early episode covering 1992, during which they played Stereolab’s “Super-Electric” (actually from 1991 but compiled in ’92), Pavement’s “Trigger Cut” and Beastie Boys’ “Gratitude,” as well as snippets of the Jesus Lizard’s “Puss” and the Lemonheads “It’s a Shame About Ray”:

Gareth: I mean, he was a bit of a heartthrob, wasn’t he? Back in the day before he hit the smack too hard?

Ryan: Yeah.

Gareth: I forgot his name.

Ryan: Evan Dildo.

Sure, the dry-as-a-bone “Evan Dildo” is the payoff, but don’t sleep on the delivery of “before he hit the smack too hard.”

40. Metallica – Orion
WHAT’S THAT SPELL? M-O-O-N. In a year when NASA’s Artemis II astronauts trans-lunarly inject the Moon aboard the Orion spacecraft and Discord & Rhyme spends three hours—three!—discussing DJ Shadow’s Endtroducing….. (with its “Orion”-sampling “The Number Song”), it must be time for another Metallica instrumental.

“Orion” was written primarily by bassist Cliff Burton. It was named after the constellation of the same name due to its “spacey sounding” bridge.

If I ever gain the ability to travel back in time and correct the past, my first stop (The Twilight Zone’s “Back There” be damned) will be to prevent Lincoln’s assassination and ensure his Reconstruction oversight. My second will be to impel President Biden to prosecute Trump and his loyalists for every criminal and civil rights violation imaginable. And my third will be to visit Cliff Burton in 1985 Copenhagen to ask “Did anyone ever write a song called ‘Space Bass’? That would be badass. Traveling by train, too, that’s badass. Badass as hell.”

41. Grand Theft – Scream (It’s Eating Me Alive)
The Brown Acid: Heavy Rock From the Underground Comedown series comes through again, following Punch’s “Deathhead” a year ago. “Scream (It’s Eating Me Alive)” bursts forth from Vol. 3:

Grand Theft was a one-shot explosion of heavy rock madness out of Seattle in 1972. What began as a tongue-in-cheek jab at the bombast of bands like Grand Funk Railroad quickly spiraled into something raw, real and entirely their own. […] Their sole LP, recorded in a single chaotic session, captures a moment of unfiltered energy. Tracks like “Scream (It’s Eating Me Alive)” and “Closer to Herfy’s” erupted from caffeine-fueled late nights, inside jokes, keen wit and a new devotion to abrasiveness.

As if a sophomore Devotion to Abrasiveness LP wouldn’t have shot them into the charts.

[…] Live performances were rare—spontaneous, earsplitting blitzes—but Grand Theft’s legend grew long after the band dissolved. What began as a fleeting joke became a proto-metal curiosity, a wild card in the deck of early ’70s rock. Grand Theft remains a testament to rock’s untamed spirit and a primal scream in the face of convention.

Third LP: Spontaneous Earsplitting. Fourth: Scream (in the Face of Convention). And so on.

42. Cannibal Ox – Iron Galaxy
“The Big Chill is a 1983 American comedy-drama film directed by Lawrence Kasdan and starring an ensemble cast.”

Sam (Tom Berenger): I feel like everybody wants something from me. That sounds terrible but it’s true.

Meg (Mary Kay Place): Yeah, tell me about it. It’s a cold world out there. Sometimes I think I’m getting a little frosty myself.

Hicks (Michael Biehn): We’re all in strung-out shape… but stay frosty.

43. New York Dolls – Human Being
RIP David Johansson—we are on an exponential scale the more time passes, people. Anyway: Too Much Too Soon review by Stephen Thomas Erlewine? Too Much Too Soon review by Stephen Thomas Erlewine!

After the clatter of their first album failed to bring them a wide audience, the New York Dolls hired producer Shadow Morton to work on the follow-up. […] The Dolls sound on the verge of falling apart throughout the album, as Johnny Thunders and Syl Sylvain relentlessly trade buzz-saw riffs while David Johansen sings, shouts and sashays on top of the racket. […] The whole record collapses with the scathing “Human Being,” on which a bunch of cross-dressing misfits defiantly declare that it’s OK that they want too many things, ’cause they’re human beings, just like you and me. Three years later, the Sex Pistols failed to come up with anything as musically visceral and dangerous.

I wouldn’t call the bad seventies sax “visceral and dangerous,” to the point that I nearly included the Lipstick Killers demo version instead. Hey, Google AI Overview, who played saxophone on new york dolls human being?

The New York Dolls did not feature a saxophone on their studio recording of the song “Human Being.”

Right, this will end well. Further chronological casualties from the past two years that might survive via Volume 18 19:

• James Chance (Contortions)
• Brenton Wood
• David Johanson (keep reading)
• Roy Ayers
• Clem Burke (Blondie)
• Sylvester Stewart
• Brian Wilson
• Lalo Schifrin
• Garth Hudson
• Bruce Loose (Flipper)
• Bob Weir
• Chuck Negron
• Ebo Taylor
• James Gadsden (Watts 103rd Street Rhythm Band)
• Dave Mason
• Clarence Carter
• Chip Taylor
• Rob Base
• Sonny Rollins

All this plus Jane Goodall, Catherine O’Hara and Isaiah Whitlock (Jr.)! Shiiiiit!

44. Secos & Molhados – Amor
Brazil’s Secos & Molhados (“Dry Ones & Wet Ones”) (really) must have hung out a lot with Jacques Dutronc because their first four albums are all called Secos & Molhados. “Amor” is taken from 1973’s… let’s call it Secos & Molhados 1, which would mean something if that were its proper title like the vainglorious UFO 1. Confidence!

The album, as well as the band itself, emerged in the midst of a time of censorship and military dictatorship in Brazil, inspiring the band to portray themes such as freedom of expression, racism and war as a form of protest.

Not relatable at all!

45. Homeboy Sandman/Edan – Never Use the Internet Again
46. Thin Lizzy – Johnny the Fox Meets Jimmy the Weed
Homeboy Sandman makes his second straight appearance, somehow, after guesting with the Difference Machine last year. Mary Timony: watch yer back! He and my man Edan joined forces on 2018’s Humble Pi EP and stylized this porno-sampler as “#NeverUseTheInternetAgain”—sorry, no. “One day I decided I should get a fuckin’ life!” Still, no. It’s a goddamn crime—break out!—that Thin Lizzy never made the #BBPslashMCP blather so here’s a clip of Edan, a microphone and two copies of Johnny the Fox to make up for it.

47. Pink Fairies – Walk, Don’t Run
From 1972’s What a Bunch of Sweeties:

Song of the Day: Pink Fairies, “Walk, Don’t Run” (The Ventures cover)

A douchebag re-enters: it’s really a Johnny Smith cover, though the Ventures’ version (recorded six years after Smith’s 1954 original) is best known. You’re welcome.

“Walk, Don’t Run” makes a strong case as a contender for the best rock & roll instrumental ever. Sure, others may argue for “Green Onions,” “Eruption” or even dark horse “Rumble,” but “Walk, Don’t Run” combines the best elements from all three. Like “Green Onions,” the riff is simple and instantly recognizable. Like “Eruption,” there’s some serious guitar work at play. Like “Rumble,” it’s a super-short blast of sound that shows a guitar can lead as powerfully as any vocal.

Dottie Faye added lyrics for Tommy Leonetti to record in 1964. Happy to be of assistance.

That said, this “Walk Don’t Run” ditches pretty much all of those characteristics. For one, it’s not instrumental. For another, it’s definitely not short—over nine minutes. It isn’t even surf rock. Pink Fairies’ 1972 psychedelic cacophony uses the riff as a basic template, throwing some bizarre verses in between the guitar squalls.

“Psychedelic cacophony”? “Guitar squalls”? Their “Walk, Don’t Run”—in the tradition of “Blue Tomb,” “Myopia” and others—was destined for the penultimate spot.

48. Dead Kennedys – Nazi Punks Fuck Off
Writer John Leavitt recently skeeted an old Twitter screenshot that encapsulates what it means to grow old with curiosity, conscience and humanism intact:

Me at 15: The Dead Kennedys are right about everything.

Me at 20: Actually these issues are way more complex.

Me at 28: But really it comes down to larger, systemic issues.

Me at 35: The Dead Kennedys were right about everything.

Me at 52: Nazi cunts can fuck all the way off. War, poverty, unemployment, inflation, Christo-fascism, autocracy, repression, corruption, etc.—all the way off.

---

Kill the king, strike him dead: a dozen songs from the sixties (five from ’69); fourteen from the seventies (nicely distributed); three from the eighties (you can’t win, Rock!); eight from the nineties; three from the aughts; three from the teens; and five from the twenties (four from ’25). Bless you, daughter. Are we going to Bikini Kill or what?

More furious madness
Volume 0 | Volume 1 | Volume 2 | Volume 3 | Volume 4 | Volume 5 | Volume 6 | Volume 7 | Volume 8 | Volume 9 | Volume 10 | Volume 11 | Volume 12 | Volume 13 | Volume 14 | Volume 15 | Volume 16 | Volume 17