Reposts

Fugazi - Demo 1987.

Knives Out - Heartburn.

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Potpourri

Ink & Dagger - Part One.

Ink & Dagger - Part Two.

Potpourri

Absolution.

From Twenty-One to Twenty-Eight It Lasted for Days

I entered my twenty-first year with Roni Size.

The Theater of the Living Arts.

Along with Colin. Jen. Another. Others.

My birthday wasn't until midnight. That didn't stop me from buying a six pack at The Happy Hour.

Miller High Life.

I don't remember being particularly drunk. I also don't remember a lot about the show.

Instruments. Over electronics.

My birthday often occurred during spring break. My spring break. As well as others. It was nice to have people at home. To celebrate with.

The next day took me to Atlantic City. Out with Mike. Others.

The following day back to Syracuse. Out with a different Mike. Adam. Snowing. Of course.

Two days later. Saint Patrick's Day. Mike. Adam. Others.

The tone was set. The fourteenth through the seventeenth. Year after year.

Pushing myself. In the wrong direction. The wrong focus. The wrong goals.

Pushing self-destruction.

Roni Size/Reprazent - New Forms (Disc 1) (Disc 2). AKA Music. Bargain bin.

Nick Told Me He Listened to Robyn, At Least I Think He Did

A few months ago Perez Hilton was part of my daily blog routine.

That lasted all of a couple of weeks.

I hated his high horse. Holier-than-thou attitude. He became what he despised. Or made a career. Pretending to despise.

During those few weeks. There was a lot of Robyn promotion.

This included contests. At least one contest. To win tickets to one of her shows.

A number of cities were eligible. Philadelphia was one of the cities.

I realized that it was not a contest for sought after tickets. But a contest to unload surplus tickets. Fill the venue. I think the majority of those who entered. Won.

I don't have proof. Just my gut.

As for the winners. I was one. Me. Plus one.

It was at the TLA. The Fillmore for that blink of an eye.

My plans were to go. I didn't.

I don't even know how the show was. Anyone who went.

I was likely watching Bravo.

Robyn. Best Buy. New.

Repost

Spectrum - Forever Alien.

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East/West Beyond Bad Boy/Death Row

During the nineties, the preference was East Coast rap. Hip-hop.

Rarely did we stray from the region.

It was permissible to listen to The Pharcyde.

"They're from the West Coast. They sound like they should be from the East Coast. It isn't their fault."

Actual attempts at justification.

So a lot of people I knew listened to The Pharcyde.

It amazes me that things like this were important to me and my friends.

Even with the acceptance. I never listened to them. Rarely. If at all.

It wasn't until PALM released their first batch of director DVDs. I bought all three immediately.

Gondry. Cunningham. Jonze.

(Lost to the apartment. Thirteenth and Jackson.)

The Jonze disc reintroduced me to The Pharcyde. I had forgotten.

The time had come to pick something up. I did.

If only I had done the same with the Fat Lip compact disc. I had it in my hand. It continues to elude me.

The Pharcyde - Cydeways: The Best of The Pharcyde. Best Buy. New.

Everything Has a Routine

The "to listen" pile was out of hand.

The routine had to be amended.

Original routine. Sorting all purchases into the pile. Alphabetically. Pulling from the top. The bottom was never being touched.

Next routine. Sorting all purchases into the pile. Alphabetically. Pulling from the top. Then the bottom. Alternating. The middle was never being touched.

Robyn. Neon Neon. Purchased in late March. Early April. Unable to escape the confines of the middle.

Current routine. Sorting all purchases into the bottom of the pile. Each batch. Alphabetized within itself. Pulling from the top. Everything is being touched.

Robyn - The Rakamonie EP. Best Buy. New.

It's a Little Embarrassing to Hear "Dress Up" (For Me and Them)

To re-tag every piece of digital music. My digital music. MP3. M4A.

A long-term project.

New media. A new medium. Will likely come along. Before completion.

The items imported to iTunes. A few years ago. These are the most difficult.

Some from burned discs. The tags. Tracks. Not where they should be. The way they should be.

Too many to start over.

Line by line. It has to be.

Bear with me.

Shift - Spacesuit. From Andrew. Burned disc.

[Image via www.inventiveparent.com]

Have Sparks, Will Travel

The summer of 2004 took me to Wilkes-Barre for the Positive Numbers festival.

I met a lot of people that weekend. People who became good friends of mine.

Zombie. Mike. Bobb. In particular.

That weekend. Led me to the 570 Boards.

Cathy posted on there. I did not. Being from 215. And spending time in 718. 315.

This introduced me to even more people. Who became good friends.

It also introduced me to a lot of current. Newer. Hardcore.

Living in New York I had made my way back to hardcore. Coming out of my semi-retirement. Listening to American Nightmare. The Hope Conspiracy. It didn't go much farther than that.

Me. My friends. For the most part. Focused on what we knew. The past.

The 570 Boards changed that.

It. The board. The people. Showed me current bands. Current for the time. R'N'R. Mental. Righteous Jams. RZL DZL. War Hungry.

I started buying a lot of hardcore. New hardcore. Again.

It's slowed down. It hasn't stopped.

R'N'R - The Infamous and Notorious. Princeton Record Exchange. Bargain punk.

I Never Listened to Anything Past This

I was surprised they were from Los Angeles.

A lot of people were. Those people I speak of. My friends.

I thought The Pharcyde had a West Coast monopoly. On the positive vibes. Sounds. Lyrics. Of A Tribe Called Quest. De La Soul.

Nine times out of ten. I'd rather listen to N.W.A. 2Pac. Dre.

Never Rage.

Rough and tough. Afro puff.

Jurassic 5 - Quality Control. ??? New.

Fall Out Boy Would Probably Be Considered a Guilty Pleasure and I'm Okay with That

I'm pretty sure Andy Hurley owes me a Van Halen LP. 1984.

It could have been another Andy. Andrew. Posting on the sxe-l. Circa 1995. 1996.

Another Andy involved with Racetraitor.

It's possible. Anything is.

I first heard about the band on the mailing list.

Before anything was recorded.

Promoting it. Promoting their politics. Questionable politics.

Less questionable at the time. For the era.

In fact. Somewhat in tune with my own.

Idealism.

A lot of talk about the band. Controversial.

Andy and Pete. The posters. The emailers. I think.

I don't want to swear to that. Swear to anything.

Trading on ten year memories. Of emails. On Telnet.

All I know. I never did get that LP.

Five dollars. Lost.

Racetraitor / Burn It Down - Make Them Talk. Trustkill.com. On sale.

Drawing Such a Blank

Through the late-nineties and the early aughts most rap and hip-hop was introduced to me via three sources.

Colin. Chris. Jude.

Their tastes distinct. With points of overlap.

Colin my source for all things Wu. Eventually Def Jux. And related underground hip-hop.

Chris my source for commercial. Gangsta. And Dirty South.

Jude my source for the cerebral. Native Tongues. His favorite.

I can't pinpoint when they were introduced to me. Or by whom.

By their sound. Their image. Potentially all three. Possibly none at all. Another source. A magazine. Internet. Individual.

After I returned home from Syracuse. Before I moved to New York.

They became part of my collection. In heavy rotation.

Today. Only an afterthought.

Requested.

They're not in my iTunes. EP. LP. Never ripped.

Years. Of using the program. They were overlooked.

Jurassic 5 - EP. ??? New.

Reposts

Idle Hands - Building a Desert.

Billingsgate - No Apologies.

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Leave a comment in the post. Or email me at hedancesfornickels@gmail.com.

Go Buy It

Reign Supreme - American Violence. Deathwish Inc. Estore. New.

Go Buy It: An Explanation

Occasionally. There will be things I have purchased. That I am not inclined to upload.

Generally. It will be something recent. Something in print. Something independent. Or something involving people I know.

The parameters are loose. And subject to change.

Call it a double standard. Call it what you will.

It Was a Good Time to Be a Plus One

She must have entered. Hundreds of times.

Her dedication. Impressive. Focused.

I entered once. Maybe twice.

And in her case. Maybe it wasn't hundreds.

Either way. She won.

Entry. To every show at The Khyber. For a full year.

We took advantage. So many shows.

A lot of great bands came through. During that year. Excellent booking at the time. Bands that interested me. Not necessarily her.

She took me anyway.

It was perfect timing for us. Many nights out. Many spent there.

I wouldn't know what to do with the pass today. I know very few of the bands that are on the calendar. Half of them. Three-quarters.

Maybe it is age. I don't think so.

The venue has fallen off. Disappointing.

More so. When I remember how many nights were spent there.

For shows. For DJ nights. For friends. For drinks. For fun.

The Ordinary Boys - Over the Counter Culture (Disc 1) (Disc 2). AKA Music. Bargain bin.

Change My Pitch Up, Smack My Bitch Up

I saw the video once. On MTV.

It was pulled. Soon after.

I haven't watched it since.

Likely tame. By today's standards.

Someone mentioned it was Kool Keith. The refrain.

That didn't mean much to me. It would have. A year or two later.

Kool Keith - Matthew. Family name draw. Christmas. New.

Something More than a Sophomore Slump

There are albums that don't leave an impression.

Albums I forget I buy.

These are often second efforts. I've noticed.

Almost always. Following a popular. Hyped. Over-hyped. Release.

It's interesting my brother asked about this particular album.

Two weeks ago. I was laying in bed. Trying to remember if there was ever a second release.

I could remember a follow up single. An EP. I could picture it on the shelf. AKA recent releases.

I vaguely recalled. Something. I could not be certain.

Waking up. I forgot.

A few days later. It came back to me.

I checked my iTunes. There it was. A second album.

It left no impression on me. It came and went. I don't know if it left an impression on anyone. I never hear about it. Heard about it. Especially among my friends.

The first album had so much press. It was everywhere. This one. Destined to be underwhelming. Regardless of quality.

Arctic Monkeys - Favourite Worst Nightmare. Target. New.

Are You Having a Laugh?

They weren't a band I thought very highly of.

Burn was never a favorite. Something I take a lot of abuse for. Verbal.

Physical. Less so.

It was no surprise the twelve inch on Revelation never caught my attention.

(That doesn't mean I didn't own it.)

It had been well over ten years since my last listen. During those years I generally referred to them as "Proto-Nu-metal." Not positively.

When I saw the major label release in Princeton. I had to own it. It was a given. A self-imposed rule. Guideline.

I'm buying up everything hardcore or hardcore related from the 1990s. Regardless of like. Dislike. Or neutral. This fell into one of those three categories.

Eventually I gave it a listen. Expected to have a laugh. Well. It isn't great. It also isn't as laughable as I expected. No guffaw.

I think my spite. General disdain for the band. Comes back to the near-impossibility of selling their seven inch. It came from this album. I don't know if I ever sold it. It may have eventually found its way to the trash.

Orange 9mm - Driver Not Included. Princeton Record Exchange. Bargain punk.

I Almost Bought the Beats Only Release in Error

There was a period. It felt like Dan the Automator was everywhere.

It wasn't that long ago.

Everywhere. Hands in everything.

Solo. Albarn. Hip Hop. Rap. Indie.

A love of all things Elliott.

Now. He's been replaced. It feels like that. Sometimes. Most of the time.

Danger Mouse. Hands in everything. The same everything.

Flavor of the year. Years.

Output. With few exceptions. Awful.

Gnarls Barkley. Inexplicable.

Dr. Octagon - Dr. Octagonecologyst. Somewhere? New.

Porn and Beats

Taking the train to Temple University.

The R3. West Trenton.

Always running into people. From high school.

All roads lead to Temple. For some of us. They still do.

Talking to Denise. I hadn't seen her in some time.

Not sure what the discussion was.

It came to Kool Keith.

My knowledge. Limited to Dr. Octagon.

She liked Dr. Octagon. She liked Kool Keith. It all paled in comparison to. Ultramagnetic MCs.

I took it all in.

Eventually. I gave them a listen. I disagreed. I still prefer his work. Since.

Kool Keith - Black Elvis/Lost in Space. eBay. Used.

She Had the Scoop and It Went in One Ear and Out the Other

A blurb. Write it down.

Moves to the back of my mind. Down to the bottom of the list.

Not so suddenly. A year. More than a year.

More than a blurb. A post. More than a mention.

Now I remember. I look at my list. It's still there.

What was once a side project. Now an album. Recorded material.

I slept on it. Slept on the EP.

Not with the full-length. Waiting for this. Jotting it down. I wasn't going to forget.

Always. I had been waiting for. Looking forward to. Three elements. Three participants. I thought. It was going to be the three.

In the end. Primarily one. The other two. Marginalized. To appearances. To featuring.

Forgotten surprises. Are better than the unexpected.

Neon Neon - Stainless Style. Best Buy. New.

Gone Fishin'

I am going to take a day. Today.

To drive to the beach.

"Down the shore."

I will resume posting tomorrow.

So until then.

Please enjoy a band. I may not actually like.

I haven't been able to make a decision on the subject. In over ten years.

Although. This probably isn't the best sample of their work. Or his work.

Metroschifter-Encapsulated. Princeton Record Exchange. Bargain punk.

Repost

Disembodied - Existence in Suicide.

Do not hesitate to contact me if a link is down.

I take them down sometimes. In an effort to cut down on clutter.

Feel free to leave a comment. Or email me at hedancesfornickels@gmail.com.

They Were Always There

From the first time I saw them. To the last time I saw them.

There have been a lot of changes.

Some good. Some bad.

All of them. A part of me. A part of who I am.

For a while. A long while. Steps back.

Then. Eventually. Moving forward.

Growing as a person.

108 - Creation. Sustenance. Destruction. Go buy it!

The Land Across the River

New Jersey was the epicenter of hardcore.

At least it seemed so. Sometimes.

New Brunswick. In particular.

It felt like everything I was listening to. Everything that was coming out. New Brunswick.

Really. Only a handful of bands.

Everything is magnified when you're sixteen.

There were bands I thought were from New Jersey. They weren't.

New Jersey was my mental default. If a band was on New Age Records.

This was true. Only some of the time.

Regional bias. My whole world was Bucks County.

(To a certain extent.)

Fifteen minutes from New Jersey. From Trenton.

The bands I saw. The bands I knew. The 'zines I read.

It wasn't everything. Not the sum of hardcore. Not even close.

The early days. Naive. Clueless.

Over time. On your own. With friends. You learn.

1.6 Band - Broke Up. Princeton Record Exchange. Bargain punk.

Contact

Do not hesitate to contact me if a link is down.

I take them down every so often to cut down on clutter.

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I Don't Like the Term "Post-Hardcore," but for Lack of a Better One I Will Use It

A road to hardcore. Via post-hardcore.

Quicksand. Fugazi. Embrace.

These bands. Opened doors. Increased interest. In prior bands. Related bands. Other bands.

As mentioned on here before. I had been listening to hardcore. To me. To my friends. It was all punk rock. Minor Threat. Agnostic Front. 7 Seconds.

Everything was punk rock. Everything that wasn't "heavy metal." "Rap." "Pop." "New wave."

It was post-hardcore. That really lead me to hardcore. Hardcore as a genre. Then to straight edge. Ultimately veganism/vegetarianism.

And back again.

Post-hardcore. A contributing influence. In opening my eyes to other things. Other influences. Other genres. Other scenes. Away from hardcore.

One Last Wish - 1986. Princeton Record Exchange. Bargain punk.

What Did Blur Do Right, They Do Wrong?

People never talk about them.

Or even listen to them.

Compared to other bands.

Of the era.

It makes me wonder.

What have I missed?

The Lightning Seeds - Sense. eBay. Used.

It Was Either Sweat or Get Drunk

Heather picked me up. She didn't want to go alone.

The show was hot. So I made my way across the street.

I don't remember the name of the bar. I don't think I ever learned it. Nothing to remember.

The sign outside. Advertising Hurricane forties.

I sat down. Inquired if I could sit at the bar with a forty. Take out only.

A twelve ounce bottle of Colt 45 would have to do. With a shot of tequila.

The bartender was friendly. The ambiance. Not what I was used to. Framed photographs of Martin Luther King. Junior. Of Malcolm X.

The jukebox. Motown. Soul. I put my money in.

I spent a couple of hours in there. People from the show. Coming in and out. Heather would check on me. Occasionally. I was fine.

Colt 45. Tequila. Repeat.

Two minutes of Franklin.

Franklin - Building in A and E. AKA Music. Used.

It Looks Like it Wasn't the Christmas Album After All

Vince Guaraldi - Greatest Hits. Cathy's compact discs.

Their Image Fascinating, but I Never Got around to Buying Anything by Glay

It had been a while since the last Japanese purchase.

A few years. At least.

I had been spending a lot of money on Japanese pop and rock. It probably started with Pizzicato Five. Maybe Towa Tei.

Doors Merzbow and The Boredoms never opened.

Cornelius. Buffalo Daughter. Kahimi Karie. Takako Minekawa. Puffy. Fantastic Plastic Machine. These discs did not always come cheap.

Each related to the other. Leading me to the other.

Eventually. My searching. My buying. My listening. Moved beyond Japan. To the periphery. It came to encompass Momus, Laila France and Toog.

The web was my resource. Reading fan sites to the best of my ability. Making lists of Japanese music. Acts. Bands. Searching eBay. Amazon. Spending thirty dollars. Forty dollars.

Cost meant nothing. Even at a time in my life. When it most certainly should have.

My interest in Japan moved beyond music.

Into culture. Fashion. Art.

A Bathing Ape was on my radar. Because of Cornelius.

I tried to force an interest in anime. In manga. It didn't take. It still hasn't.

Eventually. Obsessions. Interests. Become less so. They are swallowed up into the day to day. The narrative that is me. My interests. My quirks. Something new I can talk about.

Each time my interests expand beyond my comfort countries. The U.S. The U.K. Sweden. Even if it's only something as trivial as music. I benefit.

LOVE PSYCHEDELICO - This Is Love Psychedelico. AKA Music. New.

No Limit Almost Ruined The South for Me

"Drop it like it's hot, drop drop it like it's hot."

Chris and I. Working at Abercrombie and Fitch. Fascinated by this kid. Listening to. Back That Ass Up.

Fascinated. Having a laugh.

"What is he? Fourteen?"

Imagine my surprise. Years later. Alex lending me Tha Carter II. Explaining.

He still rapped. Rapped well. One of the best.

I am never in the thick of rap music. Always the peripheral. Especially where The South is concerned.

Current acts. Releases. Mixtapes. I hear what I can. Buy what I like.

Lil Wayne eluded me. Since our laughter in the stockroom. Not that I was looking.

Here he was. Releasing something every week. Feels like that sometimes.

I went back to the beginning. Starting over. Making up for lost time. Disinterest. My ignorance.

Lil Wayne - Tha Carter III. Target. New.