dear jerks

not just another music blog... or is it?

[dearjerks]

WE FIXED IT: The Police - Every Breath You Take: The Classics

Author’s note: Yes, there has been an eight month gap between “A Man, a Plan, a Van, Refugee” and this post. No, we haven’t given up, nor have we been thinking of packing it in. What happened is that we are both dads now, as of roughly around the time Kyle, the newest member of the Dad Club, wrote “…Refugee”.

It is not our intention going forward to only write something every time Venus completes an orbit around the sun, even if that would give our site a kind of cool symbolism. We just got a little distracted by babies and winter and such. Still, timeliness has never guided Dear Jerks. We’re not here to break the latest bands about which you’ll need to say “I only like their early stuff”, trends you need to be over before anyone else cares, or twitter feuds you need to pick sides on.

Without further ado, and to prove our indifference to being relevant…

When I was a young lad beginning to accumulate awareness of pop culture, the Police were about to go out on top as one of the biggest rock bands on the planet. All of their CDs were in our house, and their music is forever tied to casual but somehow memorable experiences such as going with my dad up to Capitol Hill to see his hair guy Phil at the Supercuts on E. Olive Way, even if the Police weren’t playing in the car or at Supercuts at the time. We probably had The Dream of the Blue Turtles in the house by then, too, but I don’t think I noticed it on the shelf until the early ‘90s after it was sitting next to The Soul Cages and Ten Summoner’s Tales.

For years now, there has been a lot of 1980s love going around indie rock and pop music. What first felt like a predictable 20-year-cycle revival seems to have lodged itself into the contemporary framework as its own kind of genre. I’m not really sure how much of this love gets spread to the Police. The only band I’ve ever personally spoken with that alluded to the Police being an influence on their music was instrumental rock lords Maserati. These days, the Cure probably gets mentioned at a rate of at least 100:1 compared to the Police when it comes to millennial band interviews; back in the day the Cure were just beginning to climb out of their goth phase when the power trio of Sting, Andy Summers and Stuart Copeland were selling out Shea Stadium.

If the kids really don’t care, that’s a damn shame. The Police had some freakin’ tunes. Plus, unless you are looking to go all in, you really only need to own one of their records: Every Breath You Take, which first came as ‘The Singles’ in 1986, and then later in slightly different form as ‘The Classics’ in 2005. The Police were concise, minimal composers who didn’t waste a note or drum whack. That sense of economy extends to the number of perfect songs they wrote: enough to fill a single best-of collection. Sure, there are plenty of good and worthy album tracks, but there really aren’t too many deep cuts spread across their five studio albums that fair-weather fans truly need to concern themselves with. They struck fields of gold two to three times per album, and after that they were free to mess around.

A while back, my eighteen-month-old son began demanding that I put a CD on the stereo every day when we got home from work/daycare. Most of my CDs are in a big CD shelf, which this past winter I had to tape garbage bags around to keep said son from pulling all the CDs off the shelf and manhandling the discs and booklets. I’ll see you again someday, my plastic friends. Thus, the evening selection has been limited to what’s in the handful of folders and wallets we didn’t have to seal off. Every Breath You Take: The Classics turned up in one of them a couple weeks ago. No time like the present to bring the next generation into the fold.

Kiddo does enjoy listening to Every Breath You Take (or at least toddling around the apartment while it plays in the background), but it takes him a bit of time to work into it. After giving it some thought, it seems clear that it would benefit from a couple of minor adjustments, including one that might come across as sacrilege to fans.

“Roxanne” has got to go. Hear me out.

Yes, “Roxanne” is one of the band’s most easily identifiable hits. It was the song that first endeared them to a wider audience. It was even inducted into the Grammy Hall of Fame in 2008. Who knew individual songs could be inducted into halls of fame?

But it is a little too slow for my son to dance to, so off it goes.

You might also be thinking that a song from 1978 about a man telling a woman “you don’t have to sell your body to the night” is preachy and condescending in 2016. I don’t want to do the Internet’s job for it, but, yes, Roxanne’s profession might be her choice and something she enjoys. I will say in Sting’s defense, however, that his lyrics often came from the point of view of a flawed narrator (the stalker of “Every Breath You Take”, the lecherous professor of “Don’t Stand So Close to Me”), so it is easy enough to read “Roxanne” as making light of the narrator who thinks he’s a hero trying to save the prostitute he is in love with. Remember, Sting notoriously bragged about being able to bone tantric-style for four hours at a time. He’s nothing if not sex-positive.

(Side note: what was the fascination with the name Roxanne in the ‘80s all about, anyway?)

Still, any such needless debate can be avoided by simply taking the song off the album. Then my son can immediately start rocking back and forth on his feet to “Can’t Stand Losing You” (another song with a flawed narrator) without me having to press the skip button.

Better yet, “Roxanne” can be replaced by the slightly more upbeat “So Lonely”, which in fact was on the 1986 version of Every Breath You Take: The Singles, though for some stupid reason it only graced the UK and European editions. It may not be as nuanced or titillating as “Roxanne”, but it is another nice dual-speed hybrid of reggae and punk, an “A + B = C” blueprint for the sound the Police were working to establish. Plus, my boy is guaranteed to have more fun stomping around to it.

The 2005 re-boot of Every Breath You Take as ‘The Classics’ was the perfect opportunity to put “So Lonely” right where it should be, between “Can’t Stand Losing You” and “Message in a Bottle”, but somehow the people in charge of such decisions failed audiences yet again. Space could not have been an issue, because the whole disc only runs an hour long, and CDs had long held over 70 minutes of music by that point. Those goons did manage to put the original version of “Don’t Stand So Close To Me” in the line-up (The Singles featured only the not-as-good “Don’t Stand So Close To Me ‘86” take), but they still tacked on to the end that lesser ’86 re-working, along with a pointless ‘new classic rock mix’ of “Message in a Bottle”. “Wrapped Around Your Finger” is the ideal closer, and those two bonus tracks also need to be tossed overboard.

Here, then, is what Every Breath You Take: The Classics, should look like. You know what? Since we’re cutting those bonus tracks, let’s slap “Synchronicity II” on there. That back end could use some pep…

1. “Can't Stand Losing You”

2. “So Lonely”

3. “Message in a Bottle”

4. “Walking on the Moon”

5. “Don't Stand So Close to Me”

6. “De Do Do Do, De Da Da Da”

7. “Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic”

8. “Invisible Sun”

9. “Spirits in the Material World”

10. “Every Breath You Take”

11. “King of Pain”

12. “Synchronicity II”

13. “Wrapped Around Your Finger”

Belll Boyyy!!!

-Ian

[dearjerks]

A Man, a Plan, a Van, Refugee

This past February, Sam Smith took home four Grammy awards, including Song of the Year for his ubiquitous hit, “Stay With Me”. This you may have heard. Just a few months prior though, that same song was in the news for very different reasons. This also, you may have heard. To recap, Mr. Smith had been sued by Tom Petty for copyright infringement. Now, ripping Tom Petty is basically it’s own niche art form, so the lawsuit initially smelled of sour grapes. However, as you can hear here, Mr. Smith proooobably flew a little too close to the sun on this one:

So yeah. As noted, though, this is merely the latest example of something people have been noticing for years. Me, I first became aware of the phenomenon in 2005 somewhere in Montana. It turns out that in 1984, Bryan Adams, OC OBC (yes, that is his legit title), composer of “Summer of 69”, Ontario’s native son and Vancouver’s greatest living human, got away with grand theft Petty. 

It was late in the summer of 2005, and our very own Ian F. King was embarking on the great American tradition of loading up every one of his possessions into a car (or a rented minivan in this case) and driving them across the country with a vague notion of doing something different-ish. Along for the drive from Washington (state) to Washington (district) was yours truly, because Great American Road Trips require pals, co-navigators, and someone to share a few pounds of Costco beef jerky with.

Our plan for the trip was to get to Chicago as fast as we could, largely forsaking closer inspection of the natural beauty found in the endless miles between the Pacific Northwest and the Windy City, and also listen to records. As we got out onto the open road, which ended up being no small feat, I popped in Air’s Talkie Walkie. We listened to it twice through. Later in the afternoon, Four Tet’s Everything Ecstatic became my new favorite record (until I picked up Rounds a couple weeks later). Somewhere around Spokane, we both heard Late Registration for the first time and realized that this Kanye guy was going to be around for a while.

In those first few hours, the trip had been exactly what we wanted it to be. And yet, by the time we got to Idaho, with daylight still clinging to the horizon behind us, something unexpected happened. We got bored with listening to our own music.  I’m still not sure why. Maybe it was the feeling of isolation (these were the pre-smartphone days after all), or the dullness of predictability piled on top of the dullness of the open highway. Whatever the reason, Ian suggested checking out the radio, and from that moment we didn’t fire up a single CD for the rest of the trip.

Now, as anyone who’s driven across America knows, there are a few constants no matter where you are. Fast food chains, gross gas station bathrooms, old ladies selling coffee at rest stops… but the one that loomed large on this trip was classic rock radio. Rolling through a city with 40 stations and don’t want to hunt for the one best suited to your tastes? Classic Rock Radio. Stopping for veggie subs in a small town and the only other choices are commercial country and top 40? Classic Rock Radio. In the middle of nowhere and the only thing you can get clearly is some local farmer radio newsletter thing? Actually, go ahead and listen to that one. But in all other cases, Classic Rock Radio. The product is consistent, and available everywhere. The McDonald’s of radio, if McDonald’s was like, a Thai joint or something. That fell apart quick. Anyway! Our pattern was set. Zeppelin, Stones, scan, Petty, Young, scan, Aerosmith, AC/DC, scan, a guy reading classified ads for farm equipment, scan.   It was in this manner that we started our second day on the road, from Butte to destination unknown. At one point, not long after getting going, “Run to You”, one of the many notable hits byrabid Vancouver Canucks fan Bryan Adams, came on. I remember being half zoned out, when all of a sudden Ian shouted something to the effect of “This is the chorus from ‘Refugee’!” I didn’t hear it at first, but the next time the chorus came around… well, just listen for yourselves to this snippet of a mash-up-style overlap we assembled for your enlightenment. I’ll be here when you get back from enjoying this abomination:

We were incredulous. It was as if Tom Petty looked into a full-length mirror and found himself sporting a Canadian tuxedo. No one had ever alerted us to this particular musical larceny before, but once we heard it, it could not be unheard.

Flash forward: Chicago. After a day of fruitful sightseeing we randomly decide to become best friends with everyone at The Burwood Tap.  Early in the evening, the bottom of Ian’s ATM receipt tells him he gets a free shot. When he asks the bartender if this is for real, the bartender is highly amused and says no one has ever asked that before. Ian gets a free shot, and so does everyone else nearby. Much later in the evening, when the bar closes, we walk down the sidewalk singing with some of our new best friends who are walking home behind us. We loudly proclaim Chicago to be the greatest city known to humanity.  

The next morning is less delightful. We wake up snuggling in the middle of the taco shell mattress on the single bed we rented in a flophouse for the night. We get the van out of the overnight parking garage with less than five minutes to spare before our ticket expired. Neither of us says a word for at least two hours, and when we finally do, those first words are really just groans. “Chicago kicked our asses”, we concede.

A funny thing started to happen on the final leg through Ohio, Pennsylvania, and Maryland (plans to maybe swing through Kentucky to see if the grass is actually blue were cancelled in light of the state we were in). First, a classic rock station would play “Refugee”, and then, no less than an hour later, the same station, or a different one, would play “Run to You”. They were actually alternating. Were more people than us aware of their uncanny similarity? That mattered little at the moment. What mattered now was that this was a race. Whoever got played the most times before we reached Silver Spring would be declared the winner for all time. No less than Petty’s and Adams’ dignity and integrity was on the line.

Another funny thing happened on that final leg of the drive. As we cruised through a zone that centered on Pittsburgh and included eastern Ohio and western Maryland, the classic rock stations also played Rush’s “Working Man” three freaking times. If that seems to match up with the Rust Belt vibe, well, as we found out, yes, this was the very market where Rush’s first US single became a hit. Three decades later, the region still hadn’t forgotten. In hindsight, it was kind of beautiful in a way. 

As we slowly rolled down the eastern side of Maryland’s modest mountains, Petty and Adams had come neck and neck at three plays each. We resigned ourselves to an inevitable tie and forgot about keeping track. A tie might have even been a more poetic, inconclusive end. However, somewhere in the early night along I-270 between Frederick and Rockville, a familiar drum beat and organ came down from the airwaves. “Wait, which one is this?!” They had almost become one in the same to our ears. In the end, “Refugee” emerged victorious, 4-3, with barely an hour to go. Justice had prevailed.

[dearjerks]

dear jerks turned 1 today!

[dearjerks]

WE FIXED IT: Pixies - Surfer Rosa

-Ian

[dearjerks]

WHAT ELSE IS THERE TO SAY?: Record Reviews from ‘90s Zines - Inaugural Edition

Welcome to the first installment of what we hope will be a rich and rewarding recurring feature on Dear Jerks. This series aims to highlight a largely overlooked golden era in record reviews, those from 1990′s music zines. Spoiler alert: I am very partial to this period and genre of music writing.

Unbeholden to the would-be Kerouacs and self-serious taste gatekeepers of rock writing from the ‘60s and ‘70s, zine writers and editors in the 1990′s were also swamped with more CDs and 7" singles than they knew what to do with. Nobly, they wanted to extend the courtesy of a review to everyone who mailed them a promo disc. Realistically, they only had enough time in the day to grant each one a listen or two. 

This situation is at least partly responsible for a review format that weighed in at anywhere between a couple of sentences at least, and a couple of short paragraphs at most. It is crucial to understand that brevity did not automatically indicate dismissal. Reviewed in a zine in the 1990′s, Spinal Tap’s Shark Sandwich could have just as easily earned a “(positive adjective) Sandwich” as much as a “S--- Sandwich.” A lack of things to say about a given record did not indicate a lack of quality, it just indicated that assembling, editing, and publishing a paper blog with ‘90s PC technology was a hell of a lot more time consuming than posting to a digital one in 2015 (hey hey).

Still, the easiest out, that of the simple numerical or star-based rating, hardly ever factored in to these abbreviated evaluations. Zines in the ‘90s succinctly stated a record’s strengths and weaknesses, but they also seemed to inherently understand that they weren’t Olympic judges. The writers may not have had the time or will to articulate their every opinion into a term paper, but neither did they seem to forget that they were appraising art, not sport. Or, at least that’s how it played out in practice, whether or not the editors and contributors felt as much.

One thing worth mentioning -- okay, admitting -- is that our base of source material for this section is anything but complete, considering the multitudes of homespun publications that came about in that decade. (For example, at the Alien She exhibit in Philadelphia last year, the wall of feminist, punk, and feminist punk zines from that time was inspiringly overwhelming, and I spent most of my time there just reading one of Unwound’s earliest interviews.) To that end, what we have will mostly come from what collection we’ve been able to amass: Punk Planet, Skyscraper, Shredding Material, HeartattaCk, and a few others. 

If you, esteemed reader, have other zines from this era lying around that include reviews too good not to be included in this series, we beseech you to contact us. In particular, I would like to encourage anyone with issues of Fat Greg Dulli to come forward, as that is one I didn’t get a hold of back in the day, sadly. 

Without further ado (how could there be any more further ado?), here is the first review of the series, which we promise will from now on come without any lengthy explanation. Here’s hoping we can keep this up at least until the creators of these zines ask us to stop re-publishing their old reviews...

Wrens - Untitled 19 song cd Pop/punk with great diversity. This release is filled with dynamic emotion and unfortunately the tracks fall short on catchy hooks that make you want to listen to them again. I would like to tell you more about this group, but all I got was the cd, nothing else. (MB) - Michael Barr, Shredding Material, issue #11

(this is not issue #11, but it seemed like an image was called for...) 

 See what we did there? The band went on to something bigger. Expect more of that in this series...

 -Ian F. King     

[dearjerks]

WE FIXED IT: Radiohead - Hail to the Thief

"I am pretty great, just a little unfocused and a touch sprawling. How can I get myself into fighting shape?"

Radiohead could seemingly do no wrong in 2003. Many people probably still think that Radiohead can do no wrong. Those people didn't listen to King of Limbs. It is unfeasible to try pinpointing the exact moment at which Radiohead stopped being infallible, but an argument could be made that it happened as far back as Hail to the Thief. Did Radiohead actually do wrong in 2003?

Hail to the Thief seems to have tapered off in critical favor in the decade since it was released. In 2007, some found a way to use its shortcomings as a platform from which to overhype In Rainbows, an underperforming and overrated album upon its release, and still the most overrated album in their catalog by critics and fans alike -- if only because the rest of their albums fully deserve the amount praise heaped upon them.

"This is what I think of you calling In Rainbows overrated, you peasant arsehole..."

It is difficult to untangle Hail to the Thief from memories of the frustrations of those eight stolen Bush years (even just that title...). For that reason alone, we honestly haven't gone back to it much since that time. A couple of days ago, though, we finally did. It was neither as disappointing as some have retroactively declared it, nor as awesome as we remembered it to be. However, as the stunning "A Wolf at the Door" collapsed at the finish line, we finally realized the problem with Hail to the Thief: within the album is a leaner, meaner version of itself poised to break free.

Hail to the Thief's problem isn't a dearth of good songs. Most of the tracks on Hail to the Thief work well individually, and even when you trim some of the fat from the roster, there are more than enough left to justify a full length record. After that point, it's just a matter of tinkering with some of the sequencing, which always seemed to slow down the album every time it gained momentum. 

With that said, here are the basic steps we prescribe for fixing Hail to the Thief:

Step 1: Cut "Punch Up at a Wedding", move "Sail to the Moon" to its place after "There There".This might seem like a big leap for a first step, but you're just going to have to trust us on this one. "Punch Up" should never have been considered album-worthy, and while "Sail to the Moon" is too much of a momentum killer at track 3, it makes a fitting come down from the album's peak, "There There". 

Step 2: Swap "Go to Sleep" and "Backdrifts". With "Sail to the Moon" moved, this actually keeps "Backdrifts" where it is, but replaces the sleepy "Sail to the Moon" with the not-at-all sleepy "Go to Sleep". 

Step 3: Cut "We Suck Young Blood", put "I Will" in its place. "We Suck Young Blood" and "I Will" achieve the exact same thing, "I Will" just takes half the time to do it. 

Step 4: Cut "The Gloaming". This is the hardest decision of all, but there's no way around the fact that "The Gloaming" is a square peg trying to fit into a round hole anywhere on this album. As a consolation prize, we suggest that Radiohead go back in time and release a concurrent "The Gloaming" EP, giving the song a chance to shine. "We Suck Young Blood" and "Punch Up at a Wedding" can also go on this EP. However, if "The Gloaming" is something you simply can't part with, a second option* is to then move it between "Sail to the Moon" and "Myxomatosis". 

Here is the improved Hail to the Thief you are left with:

"2 + 2 = 5"

"Sit Down, Stand Up"

"Go to Sleep"

"Backdrifts"

"Where I End and You Begin"

"I Will"

"There There"

"Sail to the Moon"

*("The Gloaming", if you insist)

"Myxomatosis"

"Scatterbrain"

"A Wolf at the Door"

We fully recommend trying this out on a playlist for yourself. We also encourage you to come up with your own readjusted sequence for the album, because it's never too late to fix an album released ages ago...

"As you can see, here, less is more..."

[dearjerks]

CMJ 2015 PREVIEW: Band Name Trends to Watch Out For, Smart Guy

Well that was fun, wasn’t it? CMJ 2014 recently rolled through the City of Apples like a hungry circus, and somewhere between twelve and 2,000 musical performers performed their music. These countless bands all had different names, but some bands had less different names than others.

English, disappointingly, is a finite language. There are only so many words in the dictionary, and even fewer of those words are suitable for a cool band name. ‘Oxtail’? ‘Aspirin’? ‘Bathroom’? Those are probably not words found in the names of cool bands. Due to the limited supply of appropriate words for cool band names, some words (the cooler words) end up getting used more.

Some of these words are perennially hip -- they have always been used in band names, and they always will be. ‘Black’ is, of course, the most notable example, with ‘white’ trailing somewhere behind it. Other times, certain words seem to appear in the names of a number of new bands at the same time, signaling a potential trend. In the 2000’s, the two most prominent examples were ‘fire’ and ‘wolf’. We all know what happened to ‘fire’ and ‘wolf’...

"Yeah, Merge is totally putting out our album..."

Since the heyday of the 'fire/wolf' era, many other words have taken their turn in the spotlight. At this year’s CMJ, no less than three bands with the word ‘thief’ turned up: Horse Thief, Vinyl Thief, and, simply, Thief. Add in the Portland-via-somewhere-else band Bike Thief (the most hated class of criminal in that city), and you have yourself the makings of a bona fide trend, mister. Props must also be dealt out to the upstart word ‘worship’, which so far has turned up in two NYC bands, PC Worship and Youth Worship.    

To that end, because people love to predict and stay ahead of trends, we have compiled a short list of words that are ripe for widespread use in band names. Some of these selections have been used once or twice before, but none have been exploited to their full potential. Hopefully this list will change that, and we encourage you to check back in a year to find out how many of our predictions came true. We also gladly welcome other suggestions in the comment section (we have a comment section, right?), because obviously this is the kind of thing you’ll want to get in on.

  New "Fire/Wolf": Skeleton

Past/Current Uses: Skeleton Key

Possible Uses: Beef Skeleton, Pelican Skeleton, Free Skeleton, Skeleton University

Makes a Good Name For a ______ Band: Jug, Mormon Funk, Oingo Boingo

    New "Fire/Wolf": Teeth

Past/Current Uses: The Teeth, Teeth

Possible Uses: Whale Teeth, Pony Teeth, Pigeon Teeth, Scarecrow Teeth, Wookie Teeth

Makes a Good Name For a ______ Band: Skronk, Dino-core, Silent Noise

  Now, let’s just stop right here to address what you are surely thinking: yes, Skeleton Teeth would be a completely badass band name.

"Yeah, we totally opened for Fire Wolf at ABC No Rio..."

Consider that our “Band Name to Watch” for 2015. Someone better claim that s—t. But let’s keep going with this for a little bit longer…

  New "Fire/Wolf": Void

Past/Current Uses: Void, Romeo Void, the Voidoids

Possible Uses: Purple Void, Ancient Void, Tummy Void, A Void, Void Coupons

Makes a Good Name For a ______ Band:  Animist Ska, Punch-core, Slow Wave

  New "Fire/Wolf": Prison

Past/Current Uses: Stanford Prison Experiment, Creed

Possible Uses: Lady Prison, Prism Prison, Monkey Prison, Prison Salad 

Makes a Good Name For a ______ Band: Post-Pre-Jazz, Blow Wave, Operation Mindcrime

  New "Fire/Wolf": Crutches

Past/Current Uses: Crutches, The Crutches

Possible Uses: Broken Crutches, Invisible Crutches, Stolen Crutches, Kid Crutches

Makes a Good Name For a ______ Band: Snore-core, Bro Wave*, Hospital Clown

  …Well, we think that’s plenty of brain-wine for you to swish around in your head while you await the appearance of these bands all across America’s never-ending music festival circuit next year. 2015, by the way, is the year of the sheep. All we’re saying is keep an open mind, sheep are kinda cool.    

  * - Keep your eye out for Dear Jerks’ inevitable piece on the rich and storied history of the Bro Wave movement.

[dearjerks]

Hello. We are Dear Jerks. We are new here. We are not new, though. Not that new, anyway. For the past two years, we have lived here. We enjoyed our time there, and encourage you to check out our old place as well, as that is where our old stuff will remain, until the landlord kicks us out. Our mock lists were made with love. People seemed to especially like the one about bad wedding songs with "wedding" in the title. That has been our biggest seller to date by far. This one about albums with trees on the cover has proven somewhat popular as well, and this non-list remembrance of the Modest Mouse/764-Hero split 12" has gotten some reads recently.

Those three examples all contain more words than the things we write on our spiffy new location here probably will, but no promises. The idea is to make less mock lists (if we can resist), and make more experiential, tangential, ephemeral, and (probably) idiosyncratic observations on the music that we consume and that consumes us. That's the idea, anyway. We'll see how it goes down.

Yours Truly,

Dear Jerks

(Kyle and Ian) 

[dearjerks]

Thrift Store Finds

Earlier this year, for reasons related to a car trip with my wife and a Dairy Queen Blizzard, I found myself browsing the CD shelves at a Value Village outside Seattle. Expecting 100% pure garbage, I was surprised to find the selection more in the realm of a well picked over used bin at a record store.

Based on that pleasant experience, I present the first edition of "Thrift Store Finds", an ongoing (probably?) series wherein I buy exactly 3 CDs at a thrift store and then tell you about them. Here we go!

1) Mirah "Advisory Committee" - So I do this thing sometimes where I unfairly dismiss an artist before listening to them for some silly reason, and sometimes that silly reason is because I don't like their name. I know, I know. Point being, Mirah is one of those cases. See also: Feist. Maybe I have a "single name female singer" bias? I know!

Anyway, there I am in the Value Village, and this one back cover catches my eye because it has the K Records logo on it. That record turns out to be "Advisory Committee", and now I'm paying attention to Mirah. It turns out that Phil Elverum produced the thing too, so haha whoops, this was shaping up to be an ugly miss for me until the thrift shop came to the rescue.

I'm not going to do a review here or anything, but I'm very pleased with how I spent this particular $1.99. Mr. Elverum leaves enough of his signature to evoke memories of the one summer when I listened to nothing but "The Glow Pt. 2" (see the title track), and that's plenty for me to be happy.

2) Stereolab "Transient Random-Noise Bursts With Announcements" - I was a couple years too young to appreciate Stereolab back in the mid to late 90's when they were churning out classics, and it took me many years before I paid much mind to anything they did before "Dots and Loops"*. "Transient Random-Noise Bursts With Announcements" fills out my back catalog nicely. Not much explanation is needed here. As a rule, if you see a Stereolab record for sale in any format for $1.99, buy it.

* Funny side story, I actually paid full retail for "Dots and Loops" back in 1998 or so because I was into electronic stuff at the time and... well, I may have just assumed that Stereolab made electronic music based on the cover art and retro futuristic title. It wasn't till years later that I realized I had accidentally purchased and ignored a classic. Whoops!

3) Red Stars Theory "But Sleep Came Slowly" - First off, I already own this one on vinyl so stop reaching for my "Seattle Music Nerd" card. I'm pretty sure I also had it on CD at some point, but who knows. The great thing here is that this is an album I'm VERY happy to have on CD, but also one that I would have probably never paid retail for in 2014.

In conclusion, I went to a thrift store and ended up with three CDs that, a few years ago, I would have been very happy to find in the used bin at one of my favorite record stores. Is this the level of quality that's to be found in today's thrift store bins? Is this now how we value physical media, vinyl excepted? There are probably many ways to find out, but the way I am going to find out is to every once in a while buy three CDs from a thrift store and blog about it.