Sigur Ros Lesson Number One: No Live Interest

Places come and go.

Spaceboy. For tickets. For compact discs.

I found a lot there.

Impulse buys. A collection full of them. A.R.E. Weapons. M83. Ova Looven.

After the move. It was never the same.

The new floor plan. Trivial. As it may be. Something lost.

I missed the cramped space. The upstairs.

For years. My loyalty. My money. To Spaceboy.

I may have shopped elsewhere. The majority of my business. There.

I stopped going to South Street. For almost everything.

Rare visits.

Driving by. A year ago. Maybe more. I see it had gone.

M83 - Saturdays=Youth. AKA Music. New.

Thursday Night Ten O'Clock

This season lacks the talent of the first.

My view of talent. Considering. I know nothing about dance.

The first season. More fun. More exciting.

This season. Everything about it. Feels rushed.

I was surprised when I started watching the show. Initially. MTV. On a Saturday.

Dance crews. The idea of them. Laughable. A little corny.

Akin to starting a band. With no potential for A-list fame. Success. Even a record.

Put aside my preconceptions. There is an addictive quality to it. Like anything. Put into the reality format.

My interest in any subculture. Any job. Any lifestyle. Increases dramatically. When packaged as reality television.

I have a lot to say on the subjects. The contestants. The participants. The judges.

Everyone is an expert. I am an expert. As I watch. Investing myself.

Siding with. Siding against. The judges.

The good judges. The bad judges. Some. No more or less qualified. Than me. As I view from my couch. Weighing in.

Siding with Shane. Scoffing at JC. And wondering. If Lil Mama. Her label. Realize the missed opportunity. By not releasing her album. Sooner.

Lil Mama - VYP Voice of the Young People. Best Buy. New.

You Might Think this Is Unrelated

A wave of regret washed over me.

I had sold my t-shirts.

Most. Large. Extra large.

Replenishing was in order.

Livewire. The Livewire board would solve my problem.

It solves many problems. Of a nostalgic nature.

Albums. T-shirts. Videos.

A post. A request. In search of.

Equal Vision shirts.

Some responses. Most. Large. Extra large.

Some want to trade.

Some want to sell.

The sizes I can deal with.

I want shirts. Older shirts. Nineties shirts.

Jon Field. Delivers. Copper.

Up Front - Movement. Princeton Record Exchange. Bargain punk.

Repost

Beat Happening - You Turn Me On.

It Could be Construed as not Supporting the Artists

I didn't call ahead. My arrival. Based on prior experience.

Timing is everything. An attempt to see the act I wanted to see. Nothing else.

The set times on the door. Confirmed.

I had timed things accordingly.

It wasn't very busy. Standing. Waiting.

A ginger ale. Another.

Finding at spot at the bottom of the stairs.

The music begins.

This doesn't sound like her. This definitely isn't her. I thought my timing was perfect. Something was wrong.

Timmy comes down the stairs. He explains.

They are doing a split set. They share band members. He too. Disappointed. He was there for her. I was there for her. Timing. Beyond my control.

The band. Not bad. Not what I came for.

She came out. A song here. A song there.

Timmy left. I held out.

I'm glad I did.

Soon. She took the stage. Some members left the stage. She was the focus.

The set. Split the other direction.

What I had come for.

Lykke Li - Little Bit. Johnny Brenda's. New.

This is Being Posted Sunday as Saturday was a Loss

For years I thought they were stoner rock.

(They weren't.)

I put off hearing them. Because of that.

Then I wondered if they sounded like Sweetbelly Freakdown.

(They didn't.)

I put off hearing them. Because of that.

Jesuseater. Princeton Record Exchange. Bargain punk.

Quality of Life Versus the Cold

I'd like to visit Canada beyond Quebec. Beyond Ontario.

A drive to Prince Edward Island.

A journey to Yellowknife.

A long weekend in Halifax.

These things appeal to me.

Manitoba - Up In Flames. eBay. Used.

Three Compact Discs Lost to the House: One and the Same, Fuzzy Logic and Walking Wounded

The Dirty Hippie came to the house. Via Mexico.

The DH.

He wasn't so dirty.

His name was Jay.

He was there to sublet. After Joanna departed.

With his arrival. A two liter bottle. Home distilled. Mezcal.

Mike had originally lived in the room. A bit cramped. For Mike's things. His electronics.

He took over Joanna's room. Her room. Her closet. Closet or office.

Freeing the room for Jay.

Off the living room. All night sessions of GoldenEye. All night sessions of Final Fantasy VII.

You didn't see much of Jay. Understandably.

You didn't see much of the mezcal. Unless you were me.

The liquor reserve. I'd mix it with anything. It was not pleasant.

I spent a lot of time in that house. All of my time. Officially. I lived across the street. Unofficially. I lived upstairs. With my days spent downstairs. Obsessing over Final Fantasy VII. No school. No work.

Jay moved out. Eric moved in. I moved home.

My time in Syracuse was up.

Vision - The Kids Still Have a lot to Say. Princeton Record Exchange. Bargain punk.

The Hi-Fi Sounds of Fisher-Price

I bought two seven inches.

Years after I had sold. Or given away. All of my vinyl.

I wanted to hear the band. That bad.

And hear them I did. On my childhood turntable.

Fisher-Price.

My adult turntable. Long gone.

I knew the songs would make their way to compact disc. I am a lover of the compact disc. The convenience of the compact disc.

I ordered the records anyway.

They sit in my room. At my parents' house. Gathering dust.

86 Mentality - Goin' Nowhere Fast. Princeton Record Exchange. Bargain punk.

I'll Tell You this Much, It's Better than Sid Sings

My seventh grade self was more than disappointed.

I had been listening to the Sex Pistols for a few years.

So when I learned Johnny Rotten. Lydon. Had a band after that.

I needed to have it.

The idea was greater than the reality.

I was let down.

It was not what I expected. From a punk band. A member of a punk band.

Post-punk hadn't entered my vernacular. Yet.

All I knew. Was the disappointment.

Still. I tried to like it. Kept it in my collection. Would listen to it on occasion.

I even bought a t-shirt.

I was really trying to like it. Forcing it.

It. Never happened. The disc was sold. Like so many others before it. So many others since.

This year. I realized I probably dismissed something pretty great. Because I didn't expect it. Or wasn't ready for it.

Tastes mature. I've learned time and time again.

This time. No different.

Public Image Limited - The Greatest Hits So Far. AKA Music. New.

Both Albums, Two Formats

The tapes were Jennie's.

On loan.

The Stone Roses. Self-titled. Pulp. His 'n' Hers.

The Volvo had a tape deck. I had a commute. To and from the mall.

Working at The Gap.

Closing up. Before Christmas. Coming out to falling snow. A snow covered car.

Letting the car warm up. I Wanna Be Adored.

Defrost on. Waiting for the wipers. To do their job.

The parking lot nearly empty.

I leave. Skidding. Sliding. On 81. Back to campus.

The Stone Roses - Second Coming. Rainbow Records. New.

It Took a Trip to Spain to Discover the Monkey Man

Spain. Summer of 1993. After tenth grade.

A school trip. Me. Brian. Rob. The only males.

A lot of the girls on the trip. Were going to be seniors.

We befriended a group of them. I think we bonded. Because we were bad.

Bad isn't the right word. An independent streak.

Some of us had already been to Europe. Instilling a sense of overconfidence. Familiar to all sixteen year olds.

We would roam on our own. Around the cities of Spain.

Sneak out at night. There was drinking for some. Discoing for others.

An incident with the police. That was me. Rob. Brian.

I remember sitting in a room. On a bed. With Julie. We were discussing music.

She pulled out a tape. The Stone Roses. I had never heard of them. Darren introduced them to her. He was my neighbor.

My conversations with him never strayed far from Agnostic Front.

She explained they were going to be big in the United States. Still waiting.

After a family trip to England and Ireland earlier in the year. And some music purchases. My British listening was moving beyond the standards. My standards. New Order. The Cure. Depeche Mode. Joy Division. The Smiths.

We spent a lot of time together for the second half of the trip. Me. Julie. It was a lot of fun.

Attempts to bring it home. Failed. We tried. Some dates. It wasn't there. If I had to guess. It was probably my fault.

Thankfully. My relationship with The Stone Roses had more staying power.

The Stone Roses - Garage Flower. eBay. New.

Well Look at That, It's Trademarked

The RYKO jewel case.

A sort of favorite. Eye catching.

Copper Blue. The first I remember.

I thought it was specific. To that album.

Then there were others. Bands I liked. Enjoyed.

Those I wanted to enjoy. Explore.

I can't say. If I ever bought anything. Because of the RYKO jewel case.

I do examine everyone I come across.

Going across shelves. Flipping through racks. Digging through bins.

I see the distinct tint. I pull it. I look at it. Generally. I put it back.

I want everything to be Galaxie 500. David Bowie. Mission of Burma. Sugar. Even Zappa.

It usually isn't.

Galaxie 500 - Today. Sound Garden. New.

Rockabilly, Street Punk, Bullshit

The Family Name Draw. Christmas. Irwin, Pennsylvania.

Thirteen years old. I almost always asked for compact discs. That year was no different.

I present a list. Things I want. It makes it easier on my cousins. Aunts. Uncles.

My requests aren't always sold at the chains. It was less of a problem in the past. The majority of my "punk" requests. Readily available. Today. My tastes have become a bit more difficult.

At thirteen. I wanted Social Distortion. They were all over Thrasher. Month after month. Year after year. I had never heard them. So I asked for a compact disc for Christmas.

I believe Mary had my name. She delivered.

I kept the album for a few years. Never getting into it. I dismissed it as rockabilly.

Going forward. I took a decidedly anti-rockabilly position in my listening.

Complaining about the music. The culture. The image. To anyone who would listen.

Greasers. Hot rods. No thanks. The appeal was not there for me.

Thirty years old. Thirty-one years old.

Guitar Hero III.

Story of My Life. Became one of my favorite songs in the game.

I would find myself humming it. Singing it.

Selling out my position. Realizing I wanted to buy that album. Again.

So I did.

Social Distortion. AKA Music. Bargain bin.

Associated Acts

Collectives are very real.

Though. I've been known to make them up.

Collectives. Only in my mind.

Groups of musicians. Totally unrelated. Mostly unrelated.

In the tangible world.

Laetitia Sadier. At the center of one such collective.

I like to think Stereolab. Blur. Luna. Get together. Discuss their work. Collaborate.

I know Laetitia Sadier's appearance. On Parklife. On Bonnie and Clyde. Does not make her the anchor of a collective.

But what if?

Reality. Is no reason to stop thinking. To kill the imagination.

Luna - Penthouse. Christmas gift. New.

As Long as It Makes Sense to Me

In my discussion of lists. I might come off as a little crazy. At the very least. Obsessive.

The way I organize my iTunes is no different.

It's complex. In depth. Difficult to explain.

Overly complex. Overly in depth. Overly difficult to explain.

I can't imagine it being any other way.

Writing about lists. Reminded me of a comment I left on Idolator last month.

I'm currently organizing my iTunes. A long term project. 110GB worth. At least now I can take care of these things on the front end. The age of my Mac and issues I have with iTunes while running Firefox. Makes this rather time-consuming.

I have some organizational quirks.

Definitely "featuring" in the song title.

Album art. Becomes difficult for singles. If unavailable. Leave blank.

Formatting dates where applicable.

Multiple discs. (Single 1). (Single 2). (Disc 1). (Disc 2).

Compilation is ONLY for compilations.

I used to import singles without the a-side. I am going back through and importing the full single.

When I remember. I remove "live" from the song title. I know it's live. I have ears. I've become lazy with this.

I hate opening something I've downloaded. To find no track names.

I hate blank fields in iTunes.

I like the artist and album names to match the artist or album. Meaning A, And, The, Etc. Written numbers versus numerical. Punctuation. Sometimes I have to suck it up and choose one.

(Jesus and Mary Chain versus Jesus & Mary Chain.)

I removed "genre" from the iTunes window.

I always delete "album artist." (I think that's the field.)

I don't make playlists.

I own a Nano. And I rotate on an alphabetical basis. I play each rotation on random. Until I go through every song. Update. Repeat. It should take me about a year to get through everything.

If I want to listen to something specific. I use iTunes. Or a compact disc.

If someone uses my iPod. To play something specific. I have issues. It takes it out of the shuffle rotation.

The organization of my compact discs. Organization of new purchases. Organization of those to be organized. Organization of things to be ripped. Organization of downloaded items. All have their own ins and outs.

It's always been like this. Records. Tapes. Compact discs.

It's all very subjective. Subject to change. On a whim. And all makes sense in my head.

Galaxie 500 - On Fire. Christmas gift. New.

A Dozen Packages, Probably the Most in One Day

I kept a lot of lists. I still keep a lot of lists.

For anything. And everything.

Shopping lists. Bills. To-do lists. Lists at work. Lists. Lists. Lists.

I've always kept lists.

Most have been related to music. Some still are.

Singles. Discographies.

Things to burn. For people.

Things to buy. For me.

To buy. The longest lists. Bands. Albums. That I'm looking for.

The master list. At one point. It ran three pages.

Constantly adding to it.

There were a variety of ways to get added to the list.

A mention. A recommendation. An article. A review.

I would read the R5 show newsletter. Add any band to the list that sounded interesting.

Even if I wasn't going to see the show.

I would hear the band. When I got to them on the list.

If I was out. At a store. I would buy anything on the master list. Delete it accordingly. If acquired.

The main purpose. Of the list. To organize my purchasing. Online purchasing. eBay.

Start at the top. Five bands at a time. Search. Bid. Win. Buy.

If won. Cross off.

If lost. Leave open.

If looking for additional items. For said band. Leave open.

After the items were received. Repeat.

I never completed the list. Continued adding to it.

I had become obsessive. Packages. After packages. Arriving to my apartments.

Ultimately. I had to quit eBay. Financially. Untenable.

I had to quit the master list as well. It had become unmanageable. There was no filter. I would add anything. Order anything.

Currently. I have a small list. Lists.

One of maybe twenty bands or albums. Things I need to buy. When I get around to it. Either out shopping. Or on Amazon.com. Or Amazon.co.uk. Depending on my needs.

One of missing discs. And DVDs. Items I have loaned. That I doubt I will see again. Time to repurchase.

One of bands. Bands I want to buy the deluxe editions of their releases. The Cure. Depeche Mode. Pet Shop Boys. So on and so forth.

One of labels. A list of labels. All of which I want to buy the entire discographies of. I consider it a long-term project.

The above lists do not rule my life. My buying habits. The master list took some of the fun out of music. Of buying music.

It overwhelmed me.

Manitoba - Give'r. eBay. Used.

Thursday, Finally

Yesterday. Started at 5:30am.

A car dropped off. State inspection.

A ride to work.

The car needs a part. The car stays put. I'll be taking the train home.

While incurring more cost.

Followed up with. A problem at work. Through no fault of my own.

Or others.

Arrive home.

Unimpressed by Project Runway. Version 5.0.

The day couldn't end soon enough.

It did. Eventually.

Today. Start again. I hope. With a better finish.

All of this. The result. An overdue post.

Luna - Bewitched. eBay. Used.

Reposts

Prema - Drivel.

Five Style - Miniature Portraits.

Shades Apart - Save It.

Transcend - Version 8.5.

The Libertines - What a Waster.

Does It Offend You, Yeah? - You Have No Idea What You're Getting Yourself Into.

Anything and Everything Was Getting Signed in the Early Nineties

The sticker is on my mirror.

The mirror in my room. At my parents' house.

Fittingly. A glittering. Purple. Metal. Flake. Sticker.

It came packaged with the compact disc. When I originally bought it. New.

Fifteen years ago.

It was never an album that stuck out. Never an album I would listen to.

I was fifteen. Sixteen years old. A random purchase. Because of the Sub Pop connection.

It was a disappointing purchase.

I kept the album. In my collection. For a few years. I had trouble selling it. It followed me to Syracuse. Where. Ultimately. I sold it.

It had never grown on me.

Recently. I came across a copy. I have been repurchasing a lot of albums from my past. Albums that were sold. Albums I could never get into.

Still. Nothing stands out. Although it is better than I remember. It will never be essential listening. And it isn't essential to own. I'm glad I do though. Filling in the blanks. Gaps. From my childhood.

In fifteen years. I'll try again.

The Fluid - Purplemetalflakemusic. AKA Music. Bargain bin.

This Was Also the First Time I Had Heard of Guy Fawkes Day

A Working Holiday seven inch was the first time I heard them.

November. Pitchblende. Swirlies.

I bought it for Pitchblende.

The seven inch. One of my earliest experiences with. Exposures to. Simple Machines Records.

I enjoyed the concept. A seven inch a month. Dedicated to the holidays of that particular month.

As much as I might have appreciated the endeavor. I never actively sought out the additional releases. Of the series.

It was an ambitious project. The label continued to be creative. Building on their history.

The Machines compilation. A compact disc collection of the early releases from Simple Machines. Early vinyl releases. These too were a series. A themed series. Ambition started early.

It reminds me. Of the Sub Pop Singles Club. Less a concept. Though equally as effective in distributing new music. Exposing people to new music. Encouraging new music.

It would be nice to see this again. In lieu of the "sampler."

Vinyl and compact discs. Or one. And not the other.

Digital releases. Though. Not as exciting.

A concept better suited. For certain labels. Of a certain size.

A series. Related singles. A theme. Even a subscription service. To excite the consumer. The fan.

I understand the cons. Difficulties for the label. Deadlines. Limitations. Cost. Coordination.

Maybe this continues to happen. Maybe I'm living in the past.

Maybe the memories are all I have. Maybe I'll never see this again.

Swirlies - They Spend Their Wild Youthful Days in the Glittering World of the Salons. AKA. Bargain bin.

Independent Record Stores Aren't Best for Everything

Seven to ten dollar. Newish releases.

At Best Buy. Target.

Why did it take almost twenty years for the industry to come up with it?

Affordable compact discs. To push artists. Or particular albums. Promote them.

An idea too late. The damage has been done.

Coldplay - Viva La Vida or Death and All of His Friends. Target. New.

Nadsat Rock

The message came through Friendster.

Shortly before everyone made the switch to Myspace.

The message. The result of a search.

"Happy Mondays."

Friendship via Friendster. Friendster messaging.

Introduced to Amateur Night In the Big Top.

Introduced to Campag Velocet.

He was moving to Leith.

Like an Irvine Welsh novel.

Over time. Fell out of touch.

Campag Velocet - To Lose La Trek. eBay. Used.

The Official England Song For...

A phenomenon in England.

And probably the rest of the world.

Rendering it less a phenomenon. More of an occurrence.

In the domestic market. Uncommon. Even rare. Unless you count the Super Bowl Shuffle.

The death of the non-LP single in the United States. Making something like this happen. Almost impossible.

The tournament single. Walks a fine line between an interesting release. And a novelty.

My first experience. New Order. World in Motion.

I didn't know. That it was the official song. Of England's World Cup hopes. 1990. Italy.

I didn't know such things existed.

A few years later. After picking up the maxi-single. I realized what the song was for. Why it was written.

I did know there were footballers on the track. I never managed to make the connection.

Ten years later. A couple of cups. World. Euro. Other.

Princeton Record Exchange. Looking for Blur singles. Imports. I come across Fat Les. This doesn't mean anything to me.

The sticker helps. Members of Blur. A Pet Shop Boys remix. And the official song of the England squad. Euro. 2000.

Purchased. No questions.

The run up to World Cup. 2006.

The Streets. Versus Embrace. For a chance. At officialdom.

Embrace wins. Officially.

Kasabian. Unofficially.

These songs. Likely show more success. When compared to the England teams they represent.

Embrace - World at Your Feet. Tower Records. New. Going out of business sale.

It Takes British Strokes to Rule the World (Yes It Does)

The press was doing its part.

Feeding the hype. Fueling it.

Building it. In a way. Somewhat unfamiliar. Over here.

It felt like total coverage. It might not be. Only my perception.

They were said to be a cross between The Jam and The Strokes.

The United Kingdom's answer to The Strokes.

That was enough for me.

Looking for a single. Ordered. Received.

And so began my love affair with all things Doherty. All things Barat.

The Libertines - What a Waster. eBay. New.

The Simian Was Considered Often, Never Purchased

During my stay in Christ Church. My time in Christ Church.

I must have gone to the store a dozen times.

The record store. In the city center.

I would pick something up. Each time.

Something new. Something used. A single. A full-length.

My first time in the store. The Libertines debut. From that moment. It was my destination of choice. When heading into the city.

There. And anywhere that sold meat pies.

I made enough purchases. That I was able to sell some back. Some I couldn't get into. On one listen. Maybe two.

I regret that.

The Dead C. Comes to mind.

The Libertines - Up the Bracket (Single 1) (Single 2). eBay. New.

So This Predates Ten?

A few months ago. I started singing Hunger Strike. In the car.

Eventually. Everywhere. All of the time.

For no reason. Keep in mind. I can't sing.

I would sit. Watch the video. On YouTube.

And I would watch. Again. And again.

On my computer. On my phone.

Bookmarking it. To watch. When I felt the need.

I would forward the video to my friends.

Encouraging them to watch. Again. And again.

I had the album in my hand at Best Buy.

I couldn't bring myself to spend fourteen dollars on it.

Even with a gift card.

Finally. The album turned up at AKA Music. In the bargain bin.

A suitable price.

This obsession. Entirely new.

The single was released in 1991. I was in junior high school.

All over radio. MTV.

I never liked the song. I never even appreciated it.

Until this year.

Temple of the Dog. AKA. Bargain bin.

Only Two More Embrace Posts, I Promise

I'm including this one.

You can only say so much about Embrace.

I think I've said it all.

Embrace - One Big Family. eBay. Used.

Ruttin' On My Mayella

I always imagined him as a hulking figure.

Pale. Almost albino.

Thinning hair. Wispy. On the top of his head.

Long. White. Fingers.

The film did nothing to change that. The image provided. In my head. Continues to be the image. My image.

Not so for the other characters. Modified. By Hollywood. By the actors.

They are an amalgamation. Of my imagination. And Gregory Peck.

Not ruined. Only changed. Some slight. Some dramatic.

But not him. Not Boo.

He looks the same today. As he did then. The first read. Subsequent reads. Then going forward.

A mention of the name. Pulls forth that image. Mention the band. The same image. A look at an album. The image.

The hulking. Pale figure. Of my mind.

The Boo Radleys - Lazarus (Remixes Part II). AKA. Bargain bin.

The Evening Was Ruined by Forty Minutes of Mountain Jam

The jukebox at the Langhorne Hotel. Filled with classic rock standards. And country.

Three favorites. The same three for a dollar. James Taylor. Fire and Rain. The Band. The Weight. David Bowie. Space Oddity.

A soundtrack for the environment.

The cheap drinks. The low lighting. The clientele.

The locals. The truly local.

An afternoon. An argument. Two men. One sitting. One standing. One eating. One criticizing. Criticizing the carpentry skills. Of the other. Heated words. Threats of violence. One leaves. Going to get his gun. The other? Will be waiting on his porch. Gun in hand.

A cross-section. A sampling. Of the area.

David Bowie - Best of Bowie. AKA. Used.

Initially by Bicycle, Eventually by Car

The box was an early resource. For all things D.C. And some things that weren't.

It sat at the front of the store. On. Or next to the counter.

The box contained compact discs. Some seven inches.

Dischord. Simple Machines. Mostly. Maybe a Teen Beat.

The box opened doors.

Take a chance. Make a purchase. At worst. Sell it back. At best. Something special.

Success rate. Fifty percent.

For every Nation of Ulysses. A High Back Chairs. For every Gray Matter. A Holy Rollers. For every Lungfish. A Severin.

She would offer to make special orders. Specific orders. Always declined. Preferring to be surprised. Every couple of weeks.

Tsunami - Deep End. AKA. Used.

Stumbling on a CD Single Always Feels Like a Better Score

Phil never knew it. He's the one who directed me towards CD singles.

Overheard in physics. Or second hand. Via Mike Beard.

Phil praised the single. The b-sides. The extra tracks. Rarities. Bonuses.

If I had to guess. He was talking about Billy Joel. He loved Billy Joel.

That particular discussion. His promotion of the single. Modified my buying habits.

I had been buying full length albums. An EP here. Or there.

The amount of music I owned. Had been increasing steadily. With my foray into singles. It increased dramatically.

A particular nasty and expensive habit over the years. One not limited to a genre. Or genres.

The domestic single. Has been abandoned. By labels. By bands. By stores. Forcing my habit abroad.

Internationally. The single marches on. Bands and artists. American. European. Or otherwise. For the single. Continued release. For me. Continued purchase.

"Single 1." "Single 2." Import prices. They can be cost prohibitive. Difficult to be a completist.

Less difficult. With the Internet.

This is my habit. My joy. One I am not going to give up.

My pleasure. My excitement. In finding a used maxi-single.

Embrace - Hooligan. eBay. Used.

Some Elicit a Very Negative Response

A.R.E. Weapons. British Sea Power. Relaxed Muscle. The Libertines. Babyshambles. And even The Delays.

Not depending on your tastes. Because we're depending on mine.

Rough Trade. Great output.

This decade.

I don't doubt. A ton of misses I am not aware of.

What I don't know. I can't comment on. Or be disappointed by.

The Libertines - Time for Heroes (Single 1) (Single 2). eBay. New.

Same Name, Different Band (Very Different)

Noted previously.

Most instances. In the case of shared names. An added qualifier.

Not always.

Example. The case of. Embrace.

It confuses my iTunes organization. Folders.

A bit of an exaggeration.

I'm clever enough to figure out which album. Which band. Is which.

If not. Nothing to distinguish. Between MacKaye. McNamara.

Embrace - The Good Will Out. eBay. New.

While You Wait for Chinese Democracy, Please Enjoy This Cover of Sweet Child O' Mine

Listening to WXPN. WPRB. Perhaps a piece on NPR.

Leaning towards one of the first two.

Although. There was more. Than just a song. Interview. Discussion. Making NPR a possibility.

It was the first time I had heard them. Or even heard of them.

Before I knew anything about Galaxie 500. That came later.

Moving backwards through careers.

At the time. The band had no history to me. They stood on their own.

I made a decision. That Kim would enjoy this band.

I had no reason to think this. Her tastes were decidedly female-fronted.

Yet here I was. Deciding. Pushing it. Actively.

I wasn't forceful. A suggestion. I don't think I went so far. As to buy her an album. I might have. It would have been Bewitched.

Luna - The Days of Our Nights. eBay. Used.