Is it that time already?
Nobody liked Bush when they arrived in late 1994 with their debut Sixteen Stone. I mean, there was the small matter of the 6,000,000+ Americans who bought said album, but certainly within the music papers that I devoured, the British band were as popular as puke. There are multiple reasons for this. Music journalists, I would learn, really don't like things that happen without their permission. Also, singer Gavin Rossdale was far too handsome (and the guitarist looked a bit like a prehistoric fossilised egg). And Rossdale used to be in a very silly new romantic band called Midnight. And Kurt Cobain had been dead for only eight months at the time of its release, and so this pretty dude cosplaying grunge with the edges shorn - from Marlybone! - and having the audacity to sell millions of records felt quite vulgar.
But I was in a cab the other day, a bit pissed, and this song came on shuffle. It tore my ears off. I need to keep an eye on this. I’ll be liking Stone Temple Pilots next. In fact, if you find me enjoying Stone Temple Pilots at any point then I give you written permission to hunt me down and euthanise me. But this is a very good song!
I haven’t spent enough time with It’s Almost Dry yet, Pusha T’s first release since 2018’s astonishing Daytona album, but I think this braggadocio single is my favourite song on the few listens I’ve had of it. ‘Neck & Wrist’ is very good too though - so much sub-bass! - and it’s nice to hear Jay-Z delivering some bars that don’t sound phoned in.
This is a good song isn’t it. A very good song even. I’m always fond of songs that sound like they’re going to fall apart any moment. Most of PUP’s songs sound like that. I really want to speak to them for my music podcast, if only so I can ask them if they’ve seen a moose. Regular listeners will know that I always ask Canadians if they’ve seen a moose. I just really like moose. I’ve never seen one myself. Wanna go tweet them and tell them they should do that? I’d appreciate it.
Also, let me know if you’ve ever seen a moose at spoookmagazine@gmail.com.
Magnolia Park are the new rising name in pop punk, a genre that’s been on its arse for a while now, and while I’m too old and too tired and need my pop punk to be more punk than pop than this, I think this is a fine song. Not only that, but [wangs on about the OCD he hid but was imprisoned within for years] means I’m very much into the lyric, “don't say it’s okay to not be okay”, one of the most bullshit utterances I’ve heard within an era far from being short on bullshit utterances. I hope every kid who hears that line at a show goes away thinking, “I do deserve to be okay”. Because they, and you, and me, and everyone other than about eight people I know, deserves to be okay. Demand the resources and help you need to be okay. It doesn’t come without a fight. I came for the skeleton masks, I stayed for the song, I pontificated on mental health.
I think the new record is good, but I wanted to tell you that I got really excited thinking that a flyer for my old band Mavis was featured in the video above. It gives me eternal pride to say that we played with Hot Water Music and Leatherface at a couple of shows <bones creak> 22 years ago. Exciting stuff for a 20 year old. What’s the flyer in the video that I thought might contain the words Mavis? Well, there’s a flyer for Leatherface and Hot Water Music from the same tour in said video, though after about ten minutes of pausing the video, rewinding, and doing this over and over again until my eyes started to hurt, I can confirm there is no mention of the word Mavis.
Here’s a story from the road. When we played with Hot Water Music in Leeds the venue gave us pizza. This was quite amazing to me, a student at the time. I actually asked Frankie Stubbs if we had to pay for it. “No son, you don’t have to pay for it,” he said. I felt very silly. So I ate the pizza. And then on the way back to Sunderland I was violently ill. We had to stop the car by the side of the motorway so I could throw up. Turns out that Hot Water Music had been drying their sweaty shirts above the pizza and I’d inadvertently eaten pizza marinated in Chuck Ragan’s sweat.
In fact, we played with a band from Wakefield called Pylon on a few of those dates. Then we went to Wakefield to do a show with them. The guy driving us there and back fell asleep at the wheel on the way home. How I’m not dead, I don’t know. I’ve just thought about Pylon for the first time in years. They were brilliant, and my head is now flooded with memories of a period in my life that I have a lot of fondness for, despite [wangs on about the OCD he hid but was imprisoned within for years].
In fact, I remember crashing at the drummers house after Out of Spite Festival in 2002. Nice dude, but as he headed to bed leaving me on the couch, I recall him telling me, “there’s some porn behind the sofa if you need it”, which remains the strangest way that anyone has ever bid me goodnight. Anyway, listen to the song above because it’s properly brilliant in that way big hearted wonky 90’s emo rock was.
Utter filth. I forgot how much, in this moment, they sounded like Slayer!
The days of me hanging on every word uttered and every note of music made by Belle & Sebastian - a band I was once so obsessed with I wrote an MA paper on them and their nascent online fan communities, sigh, I hate myself sometimes, I really do - is long gone. But this, and the album that shares the songs name, is very good. The record marks the first time they've recorded in Glasgow since 1999, which I can only think is some of the reason why the album recalls classic early works like Tigermilk and If You’re Feeling Sinister much more than it does <shudder> ‘Funny Little Frog’.
I’m really irritated with myself that I’ve double booked myself on the night this week that Bob is playing in London. I doubt he’ll play this, my favourite song from his catalogue post-Hüsker Dü and pre-Sugar, but if he does, please don’t tell me. I honestly don’t think I could handle it. I should say that I interviewed Bob Mould for the music podcast last year. It was a thrill. Check it out if you want to hear what I sound like when I’m riddled with awe and fear. I’m a very unconfident man. I’ve been trying to make sense of that recently. Did I tell you I just signed up for 8 weeks of improv lessons? I just signed up for 8 weeks of improv lessons. I’m working on it, see.
Here’s a little inside baseball for you. After I spoke to Bob on Skype, I messaged him with a link to the song my old band Dallas wrote as a tribute to Hüsker Dü. “Oh wow, I’ll check it out” he said. Sigh, I hate myself sometimes, I really do. Maybe he did check it out. Maybe he didn’t. Maybe he’ll cover it next week. Maybe not.
For no other reason than it’s been stuck in my head all week. Not complaining.