Looking at Steve Albini’s resume as a recording engineer isn’t just impressive. It’s intimidating. It isn’t so much that Albini’s Electrial Audio studios in Chicago has been home to a staggering number of recordings as it is the fact that the quality of those bands and artists is damn near…
My pops loved this song, especially cos that giant reverby snare smash. He also liked ‘Life in the Fast Lane,’ but that can be forgiven because he liked it for to air guitar the Joe Walsh riff. He would jam Beatles songs on the acoustic for us on summer porch nights like this. At work he would listen to Rush Limbaugh instead of NPR, and I was like ‘Dad, what the eff?” He said it was because NPR repeated stories throughout the day and he liked to read through the lines instead of hearing the same stuff over and over. He voted for Jesse Jackson. When I was a kid I pestered him for years to play me in pool and when he finally caved I was like ‘ok, you break.’ I didn’t even get to shoot. He loved my mom so much; when we were kids we hung a sign over the couch that said ‘No noodling on the couch.’ That sounds dirtier than I remember. He had so much love that it was infectious that all his kids and grandkids have so much love to give. He loved watching ‘Top Gun’ with the stereo on blast for the sounds of the jet engines. He slept thru the rest. He was an o.g. season ticket holder for the Crew, he loved soccer and the drama of the World Cup - I’m sure it was the intensity he craved, because he used to yell “INTENSITY!” when my club games got cold and morale was down. He could do this incredibly loud whistle that sounded like “O’Shaughnessyyy” that meant it was time to come home or come find him in a crowd. He bought me the drum kit I still play. I thought he let me slack off like a bozo for years but he actually taught me more in my questionable 20s than I learned in ever and would probably be proud I retained as much as I did. He was sarcastic and skeptical and made me question things, but never handed me answers. There was a dictionary on a pedestal at home that he would send us to when we asked what a word meant. I’m sure all those times when I was grounded and said I was going to the library he let me go even though he knew I was going to hang out with friends - if only because SOMETHING had to make it into my brain if I was at a freakin library. He didn’t like when things weren’t set up the way he set them up - and he usually set them up correctly (enough). He interviewed for a job in NYC at IBM in the 70s. He knew every single driving shortcut in town and could figure out any city we drove to like he lived there for years. He couldn’t stand bad drivers or unpredictable cyclists. One time we went to Notre Dame for a football game and he realized he forgot the tickets when we were halfway to South Bend. He used to cuss like this: “god damn ssON OF A BIIIITCHHHH!’ if he stubbed his toe. When I fucked up or got arrested he wouldn’t cuss. He just had this look that shrunk me. He bailed me out like my boat was made of swiss cheese. He would point out landmarks everywhere. Like freaking everywhere. He knew everybody he met like they grew up together, and he remembered every person he came across - names and all. He did crosswords every day. All day. He smoked Vantages (yuck), even after he quit when my lung went and would sneak them at work. Except, when I dug out a corduroy coat he wore at Notre Dame in the late 60s there was an unopened pack of Lucky Strikes. He was great at his job and people in his industry admired him - but when it came down to the time he needed his own services he hadn’t even given himself a second of thought. That last great joke, the blacksmith only has wooden spoons. He refused to advertise except for in church bulletins and on matchbooks given the tastelessness of advertising for his line of work - and also cos it was a waste of money and he didn’t make all that much. He would think it was corny and insincere of me to post this on this inane, human relationship killing website rather than telling him in writing or in person. He was really funny and had impeccable timing. His favorite movie was ‘Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb.’ He would fall asleep in his chair while the burgers were on the grill and he had a cig between his fingers, which was the best time to ask permission to go out with friends. He looked the other way when I barfed up two Burger King cheeseburgers because I was too stoned when he picked us up from skating one night and the car he drove then gave me motion sickness - he just told me to clean it up. He took a permanent snoozer in July ‘07. His cells couldn’t bear to send signals to each other and the electrical charge left his body. While his corporeal form is in a hole in the ground off South High street in Ohio on Earth, that electrical energy has been dispersed throughout all of us and will never fade and will continue forever and eternally. I had a good one.
I logically assumed that this album would be music by the woman on the cover, however when I flipped it over, it looks like the music is by two guys. I’m going to read the essay by Dick “Blues Boy” Rosenthal after I hear a few songs. Let’s press play!
Okay, so I was right. This is not blues,…
News of this release stinks, for two reasons unrelated to the music within: first, this marks the end of the series for Cheater Slicks live recordings, at least as far as we know it; second, this release came with the sad and inevitable news that the label which released it,…
Check out these hand made, one of a kind, rare, small batch, high gravity, single barrel, grand cru, distillers edition, seasonal, small run, barrel proof, reclaimed, house crafted, craft made, recycled, hand crafted, lo fi, independent, rustic, modern, micro nano crafted, infinite use, clutch, church, word is bond, bottled in bond, james bond, farmhouse, brooklyn ass, hipster growler and bottle carriers that we got in from Good Fences Make Good Neighbors. This dude’s neighbor was getting a new fence, so instead of scrapping all the perfectly good, patina-ed cedar, he reclaimed it and hand crafted these jawns. Check out his Etsy site - oh wait he doesn’t have the internet because he just makes stuff in his back yard. Only available here, and just in time for the gift giving onslaught. Not joking, this is real. Who loves ya?
Adam Roelle hand made these jawns, that’s who.