Sunday, February 22, 2009

West Bank is a Volatile Place

Music by Muslimgauze

Vandals- Anarchy Burger!

Tennessee Ernie Ford- 16 Tons

The Kinks- Dead End Street

John Mellencamp- Rain On The Scarecrow

Steppenwolf - Monster

The Who- Won't Get Fooled Again

Bob Marley- War

Bob Seger- Feel Like A Number

Steve Earle - Rich Man's War

Crass - Big A Little A

Minutemen - This Ain't No Picnic

Political Songs For The Dying West

The Secret Museum
Michael Mooney & Jim Webb

Sing to Me of War

Anarchy! Go apeshit
Let them know you're sick of it
Write your congressman, tell him he sucks
He's only in it for the bucks

Anarchy burger!
Hold the government
Anarchy burger!
Hold the government

-The Vandals

Inspired by recent reportage at the Horse Fly, Jim and I decided to list some notable political songs. Turns out there are way too many of them, though not enough on a local level (how could there be?), so we’re going with a double LPs-worth of more or less idiosyncratic protest songs. Everybody sing along.

1. Summertime Blues- Eddie Cochran (1958)
Creepily subdued (cheerful even, and more effective for it), teen impotence and Rock
and Roll rage begin here.

2. Dead End Street- The Kinks (1966)
Lou Reed’s favorite Kinks song, it reached #5 in the UK. No chance of doing the same
in the USA. This is why:

There's a crack up in the ceiling,
And the kitchen sink is leaking.
Out of work and got no money,
A Sunday joint of bread and honey.

What are we living for?
Two-roomed apartment on the second floor.
No money coming in,
The rent collector's knocking, trying to get in.

We are strictly second class,
We don't understand,
Why we should be on dead end street.
People are living on dead end street.
Gonna die on dead end street.

On a cold and frosty morning,
Wipe my eyes and stop me yawning.
And my feet are nearly frozen,
Boil the tea and put some toast on.

What are we living for?
Two-roomed apartment on the second floor.
No chance to emigrate,
I'm deep in debt and now it's much too late.

We both want to work so hard,
We can't get the chance,
(Dead end!)
People live on dead end street.
(Dead end!)
People are dying on dead end street.
(Dead end!)
Gonna die on dead end street.

Dead end street (yeah)
Head to my feet (yeah)
Dead end street (yeah)
Dead end street (yeah)
Dead end street (yeah)
How's it feel?
How's it feel?

3. Monster- Steppenwolf (1969)
John Kay’s history of America in 9 minutes, 16 seconds:

We don't know how to mind our own business,
'cause the whole world's got to be just like us.
Now we are fighting a war over there.
No matter who's the winner, we can't pay the cost.
'Cause there's a monster on the loose,
it's got our heads into the noose (sic).
And it just sits there... watching."

4. Won’t Get Fooled Again- The Who (1971)

5. Feel Like A Number- Bob Seger (1978)
Bob doesn’t like being numerated. Neither do I.

6. Clampdown- The Clash (1979)

7. Big A Little A- Crass (1980)
A reasonably catchy “Introduction to Anarchism” via Religion, Royalty and Margaret
Thatcher. Sung by Steve Ignorant, it goes like this:

Big A, little A, bouncing B
The system might have got you but it won't get me

External control are you gonna let them get you?
Do you wanna be a prisoner in the boundaries they set you?
You say you want to be yourself, by christ do you think they'll let you?
They're out to get you get you get you get you get you get you get you

Hello, hello, hello, this is the Lord God, can you hear?
Hellfire and damnation's what I've got for you down there
On earth I have ambassadors, archbishop, vicar, pope
We'll blind you with morality, you'd best abandon any hope,
We're telling you you'd better pray cos you were born in sin
Right from the start we'll build a cell and then we'll lock you in
We sit in holy judgement condemning those that stray
We offer our forgiveness, but first we'll make you pay

External control…

Hello, hello, hello, now here's a message from your queen
As figurehead of the status quo I set the social scene
I'm most concerned about my people, I want to give them peace
So I'm making sure they stay in line with my army and police
My prisons and my mental homes have ever open doors
For those amongst my subjects who dare to ask for more
Unruliness and disrespect are things I can't allow
So I'll see the peasants grovel if they refuse to bow

External control…

Introducing the Prime Sinister, she's a mother to us all
Like the dutch boy's finger in the dyke her arse is in the wall
Holding back the future waiting for the seas to part
If Moses did it with is faith, she'll do it with an army
Who at times of threatened crisis are certain to be there
Guarding national heritage no matter what or where
Palaces for kings and queens, mansions for the rich
Protection for the wealthy, defence of privilege
They've learnt the ropes In Ireland, engaged in civil war
Fighting for the ruling classes in their battle against the poor
So Ireland's just an island? It's an island of the mind
Great Britain? Future? Bollocks, you'd better look behind
Round every other corner stands P.C. 1984
Guardian of the future, he'll implement the law
He's there as a grim reminder that no matter what you do
Big brothers system's always there with his beady eyes on you
From God to local bobby, in home and street and school
They've got your name and number while you've just got their rule
We've got to look for methods to undermine those powers
It's time to change the tables. The future must be ours

Big A, little A, bouncing B
The system might have got you but it won't get me

Be exactly who you want to be, do what you want to do
I am he and she is she but you're the only you
No one else has got your eyes, can see the things you see
It's up to you to change your life and my life's up to me
The problems that you suffer from are problems that you make
The shit we have to climb through is the shit we choose to take
If you don't like the life you live, change it now it's yours
Nothing has effects if you don't recognise the cause
If the programme's not the one you want, get up, turn off the set
It's only you that can decide what life you're gonna get
If you don't like religion you can be the antichrist
If your tired of politics you can be an anarchist
But no one ever changed the church by pulling down a steeple
And you'll never change the system by bombing number ten
Systems just aren't made of bricks they're mostly made of people
You may send them into hiding, but they'll be back again
If you don't like the rules they make, refuse to play their game
If you don't want to be a number, don't give them your name
If you don't want to be caught out, refuse to hear their question
Silence is a virtue, use it for your own protection
They'll try to make you play their game, refuse to show your face
If you don't want to be beaten down, refuse to join their race
Be exactly who you want to be, do what you want to do
I am he and she is she but you're the only you

8. This Ain’t No Picnic- Minutemen (1984)
D. Boon feels like a number:

Working on the edge
losing my self-respect
for a man who presides over me
the principles of his creed
punch in punch out
8 hours 5 days a week
sweat pain and agony
on Friday I'll get paid

Hey mister don't look down on me
for what I believe in-
I got my bills and the rent
I should go pitch a tent
but our land is not free
so I'll work my youth away
in the place of a machine

I refuse to be a slave

This ain’t no picnic!

-Michael Mooney (#A07187)

1. Sixteen Tons- Tennessee Ernie Ford
This classic 1955 Number One tells of a coal miner’s (and all workers in general) fate;
you try to scratch out an honest living, but no matter how hard you work, you still wind
up in debt to someone. I dedicate this song to all the Taos County miners who lost their
jobs- I hope they find new work quickly.

You load sixteen tons and what do you get?
Another day older and deeper and debt
Saint Peter don’t you call me, ‘cause I can’t go
I owe my soul to the company store.

2. Rain on the Scarecrow- John Mellencamp
As far as I’m concerned this is easily Mellencamp’s best song. A tune about small,
independent American farmers and the difficulties they have in surviving in today’s
world. Why does our Government constantly bail out the The Banks and other financial
institutions in dire straits of their own making, while thousands of ordinary people
simply get crushed (through no fault of their own) and lose everything? Written in
1985, this song is even more relevant today.

Scarecrow on a wooden cross, blackbird in the barn
Four hundred empty acres that used to be my farm
I grew up like my daddy did, my grandpa cleared this land
When I was five I walked the fence while grandpa held my hand

Rain on the scarecrow, blood on the plow
This land fed a nation, this land made me proud
And son, Im just sorry theres no legacy for you now
Rain on the scarecrow blood on the plow

The crops we grew last summer weren’t enough to pay the loans
Couldn’t buy the seed to plant this spring and the farmers bank foreclosed
Called my old friend Schepman up to auction off the land
He said, “John its just my job and I hope you understand”
Hey, calling it your job, ol’ hoss, sure don’t make it right
But if you want me to, Ill say a prayer for your soul tonight
And Grandma’s on the front porch swing with a Bible in her hand
Sometimes I hear her singing Take Me To The Promised Land
When you take away a man’s dignity he can’t work his fields and cows

Well theres ninety-seven crosses planted in the courthouse yard
Ninety-seven families who lost ninety-seven farms
I think about my grandpa and my neighbors and my name
And some nights I feel like dyin’ like that scarecrow in the rain

3. No Human Rights for Arabs in Israel- Muslimgauze
Muslimgauze was the musical brainchild of a British-born white male named Bryn
Jones. All of Jones’ hundred plus releases dealt with Arab causes, and specifically
the Palestinian/Israeli conflict. He became a fervent anti-zionist after Israel’s
1982 invasion of Lebanon and was a tireless supporter of the Palestinian cause. This
song from a 1995 release contains Middle Eastern percussion with
electronic/ambient pulses and occasional have snippets of Arabic dialogue drifting
throughout. Jones died in 1999 at age 37 of a rare blood disease.

4. Black Cloud of Islam- Roy Harper
Written in 1989 by legendary U.K. singer/songwriter Harper (close friend of
Pink Floyd & Led Zeppelin, among others). Roy explains that it’s a rant against
organized religion and those who would use God’s name to justify violence, though
the song’s considerably more pointed than that.

I'm sick to the teeth of the news on the screen
of Hezbollah scum and jihad the obscene
whose men plant the bombs and then live feeling free
to watch women and children be killed on T.V.

Which Satan delivers a child a death curse
in the name of a worn out collection of verse
I've not read the book so I cannot recite
but I'd bet Salman Rushdie is just about right
underneath the black cloud of Islam

What kind of publicity needs so much blood
that's not for some sad diabolical god
selling himself as a two-bit Macbeth
as the expect in sentencing cousins to death
and what kind of god can this be anyway
that you have to prostrate to him five times a day
with hate in your heart and a gun in your hand
is force the only thing to understand
underneath the black cloud of Islam?

And the butchers who've got all this blood on their hands
are the ones who need god to be stood where he stands
blessing this kidnapping, murder and war
with books written hundreds of ages before

and woman in veils walking paces behind
doesn't sit easy in my mind
it speaks of oppression and no other choice
that rigid compliance with the loudest voice
underneath the black cloud of Islam

You can put a lead bullet clean through this guitar
'cos I'm not overjoyed with the story so far
sharing a world with the nutters of god
is as good as being six feet under the sod

Words that are written are all here to say
and these are the latest there are anyway
and I am the prophet so don't believe me
I'm the same as the old ones expect that I'm free
to give you a piece of my mind which is this
you're the worst of Jehovah’s blind witlessnesses
with your feet in the door of the deepest abyss
which is underneath the black cloud of Islam

5. Rich Man’s War- Steve Earle
It’s difficult to choose just one from Mr. Earle, but this is my favorite track from his 2004 release The Revolution Starts Now. This song begs the question- Would George Bush have sent either of his two young daughters to fight in Iraq?

Jimmy joined the army ‘cause he had no place to go
There ain’t nobody hirin’
‘round here since all the jobs went down to Mexico
Reckoned that he’d learn himself a trade maybe see the world
Move to the city someday and marry a black haired girl
Somebody somewhere had another plan
Now he’s got a rifle in his hand
Rollin’ into Baghdad wonderin’ how he got this far
Just another poor boy off to fight a rich man’s war

Bobby had an eagle and a flag tattooed on his arm
Red white and blue to the bone when he landed in Kandahar
Left behind a pretty young wife and a baby girl
A stack of overdue bills and went off to save the world
Been a year now and he’s still there
Chasin’ ghosts in the thin dry air
Meanwhile back at home the finance company took his car
Just another poor boy off to fight a rich man’s war

When will we ever learn
When will we ever see
We stand up and take our turn
And keep tellin’ ourselves we’re free

Ali was the second son of a second son
Grew up in Gaza throwing bottles and rocks when the tanks would come
Ain’t nothin’ else to do around here just a game children play
Somethin’ ‘bout livin’ in fear all your life makes you hard that way

He answered when he got the call
Wrapped himself in death and praised Allah
A fat man in a new Mercedes drove him to the door
Just another poor boy off to fight a rich man’s war

6. War- Bob Marley & The Wailers

The lyrics came from a speech that Ethiopian Emperor Haile Selassie gave before the U.N. General Assembly in 1963.

Until the philosophy which holds one race superior
And another inferior is finally and permanently
discredited and abandoned -

Everywhere is war -
Me say war.

That until there no longer
First class and second class citizens of any nation
Until the color of a man's skin
Is of no more significance than the color of his eyes -
Me say war.

That until the basic human rights
are equally guaranteed to all,
Without regard to race -
Dis a war.

That until that day
The dream of lasting peace,
World citizenship
Rule of international morality
Will remain in but a fleeting illusion to be pursued,
But never attained -
Now everywhere is war - war.

And until the ignoble and unhappy regimes
that hold our brothers in Angola, In Mozambique, South Africa
Sub-human bondage have been toppled,
Utterly destroyed -
Well, everywhere is war -
Me say war.

War in the east, War in the west,
War up north, War down south -
War - war - Rumors of war.
And until that day,
The African continent
will not know peace,
We Africans will fight - we find it necessary -
And we know we shall win
as we are confident
in the victory

7. Beds Are Burning- Midnight Oil
A passionate song about the native Aboriginal tribes of Australia, and how they were forcibly moved off their ancestral lands and relocated. Seems like a common solution used around the world when Das Kapitalists need more space.

Out where the river broke
The bloodwood and the desert oak
Holden wrecks and boiling diesels
Steam in forty five degrees

The time has come to say fair's fair
To pay the rent, To pay our share
The time has come, A fact's a fact
It belongs to them, Let's give it back

Four wheels scare the cockatoos
From Kintore East to Yuendemu
The western desert lives and breathes
In forty five degrees

How can we dance when our earth is turning
How do we sleep while our beds are burning
How can we dance when our earth is turning
How do we sleep while our beds are burning

8. Armalite Rifle- Gang of Four

U.K. band from Leeds in 1978 unleashes an anti-gun diatribe against both the police and the I.R.A. Ties in nicely with America’s current ongoing battles between hunters/ gun enthusiasts vs. citizens against semi/automatic weapons. The I.R.A. labeled its favorite gun “The Widowmaker”.

Armalite rifle- police and IRA
Armalite rifle- use it everyday
Breaks down easy, fits into a pram
A child can carry, it do it no harm
Armalite rifle and the holy trinity
It’s used against you for Irish jokes and the BBC
Armalite rifle- please skew the aim
Armalite rifle- use it everyday
The rifle does harm, it shoots for miles
If a bullet gets you in the heart, destroys your insides
Armalite rifle- police duty eh?
Armalite rifle- use it everyday
It’ll do you damage, it’ll do you harm
Blow your legs off, blow your guts out
I disapprove of it, so does Dave
It’ll do you damage, it’ll do you damage
Damage damage damage damage damage

Next time- our favorite Bubblegum Songs.
-Jim Webb

Monday, February 16, 2009

Honeyboy Edwards- Gamblin' Man

David 'Honeyboy' Edwards

The Secret Museum

Michael Mooney & Jim Webb

Kachina Lodge,
Taos, New Mexico
Feb. 6, 2009

I want to jump the queue here before Jim’s review. For me, the highlight of the Honeyboy Edwards show came after an audience member (the bearded gent who provided a running commentary throughout the set) inquired of Mr. Edwards about the notable players he had known. When Honeyboy nonchalantly began to recount his memories of Charlie Patton, I was stunned. Patton’s been gone 75 years now; it was like hearing someone say they’d met Madame Curie, Winsor McCay, or Bonnie and Clyde, all of whom also died in 1934 (as did Holst, Elgar and Delius.). I’m still trying to comprehend the implication of this man’s recollections (and what recall: in a London Times interview from last year, Edwards describes witnessing Robert Johnson’s death: “Now, when he died, August 16, 1938, that was on a Tuesday, I come over there an’ I was around 23 years old. Robert was 27 then. He got poisoned out there, a little place called Three Forks. He had been playin’ out there for pretty close to a year. They had a roadhouse out there called Juke House - white whiskey, gamblin’. Robert started goin’ with the man’s wife, an’ she a good-lookin’ woman. An’ the man got him.”)

David Edwards is the sole remaining original practitioner of a particularly American musical idiom (unless you count Pinetop Perkins; I do but I don’t), which in turn paved the way for the greatest of all 20th Century art forms. There is no truer expression of life as art than that of a classic American Blues singer. Honeyboy Edwards defines the genre.
-Michael Mooney

PS To the tactless dude who felt compelled to shout, “How does it feel to have lived long enough to see a black president,” here’s the answer: “Matter of time. That’s all it was.”

Honeyboy Edwards is ninety-four years old. It would be easy to list all the changes this country has gone through since 1915, from race relations to technological advances, and marvel at what David has witnessed, like a real life Forest Gump. But that’s not what makes Honeyboy Edwards special to me.

Honeyboy doesn’t just play The Blues; untold thousands of musicians can make the same claim. What separates him from almost all the others is that he has also lived The Blues- born in 1915 and raised in a Mississippi where slavery had become known as sharecropping, and most African Americans were still looked at as no more than chattel. He survived by becoming a musician, and along the way played with such legendary Bluesmen as Robert Johnson and Charley Patton.

The Blues aren’t just about bad times; they’re about everything that happens in life. Joy, frustration, and relationships are all part of what Honeyboy and the true Bluesmen express through their music. What’s unique about him is that he hasn’t musically changed with the times. Sure, he plays an electric guitar some of the time now, but if you close your eyes you could be in a Southside Chicago tavern in 1952, or a juke joint hidden off Highway 61 in the 30s. After opening his Kachina show with (I think) Muddy Waters’ Rollin’ Stone, Edwards played the standard Sweet Home Chicago before being joined by Michael Frank on harmonica for the rest of the set. After about forty-five minutes, Honeyboy put down his guitar and talked about some of the people he played with in the past, and answered a few questions from the crowd before taking a break.

Mr. Edwards survived the changes that occurred in the last ninety-four years of our history, from The Great Depression and WW II onward to the present day. He also survived as a blues musician, an extremely endangered species these days. In the 1930s Honeyboy played for people trying to break free of the drudgery of everyday life. These were folks who worked too hard for not enough pay, just trying to escape their problems for a while. In 2009, those in attendance at The Kachina Lodge are also worried about jobs and money, and they, too, want to leave their everyday world behind for an hour or two. If you look deeply at David Honeyboy Edwards you will see that he continues to show us through his Blues that whatever happens, we will deal with it and roll on. Some things really don’t change.
- Jim Webb

Saturday, February 7, 2009

My Life Would Suck Without You (A St. Valentine’s Day Massacre Wish List)

The Secret Museum


I think the planet would be a much better place if these bands/singers listed below ceased to exist immediately:

10. Loverboy

I will stay away from any loaded firearms on Feb. 12th when they play The Oh-Kay Casino in Espanola. Loverboy took rehashed chords and banal lyrics to new lows over the last twenty-five plus years. There is a reason to see them live: if you want to experience the living, breathing definition of shite, go.

9. Pat Boone

I know you probably think he’s dead, but Dick-In-The-Box is still out there. His biggest sin was “interpreting” some great rhythm n’ blues tunes back in the 1950s, i.e. making them digestible for the white Eisenhower voter’s kids. Preacher Pat somehow wound up in black leather/bondage gear acting the 90s Metal God. You can’t make this kind of stuff up; he claimed it was all a gag gone wrong. Right now he’s probably playing strip poker with Ted Haggard, Jimmy Swaggert and Jim Baker.

8. Coldplay

Everything that’s wrong with today’s rock music is all here. Whining, mopey, faceless music that has no passion or drive. Shit, at least Loverboy are high-energy nonsense. Chris Martin has threatened that ’09 might be their last year together; we should all light candles and pray right now.

7. White Zombie / Rob Zombie

A teenage-cash fleecing project that exceeded beyond all expectations. How did Rob know that in aiming for America’s impressionable thirteen to sixteen year olds, he would also be revered by the twenty something and older metal crowd. Dumb growling vocals that are supposed to be scary. The scariest thing about him is that his uninspiring “everyday is Halloween act” won’t go away.

6. The Eagles

Maybe the first ever Sham/Wow-type marketing scam in rock music. They kept it dumb and simple, and preyed on your emotional attachment to pretty harmonies. Don’t feel bad if you recently paid $200.00 a ticket to see them live- their Lear jet’s fuel costs are astronomical, and it probably needs new tires. Sucker.

5. Starship

They didn’t want you to buy their music; they just needed money and knew you had to get something in return. I prefer a Ginsu knife for $14.95 to anything this cellophane-wrapped turd of a band ever put out.

4. REO Speedwagon

Lead poodle Kevin Cronin should be charged with crimes against humanity and forced to serve a minimum five-year term in solitary confinement for his profoundly lame nursery rhymes. Music for modern day hayseeds.

3. Journey

An instructional video on lead vocalist Steve Perry’s mannerisms should be created for what not to do on stage for aspiring singers. No band has ever played with more conviction about songs that are absolutely without meaning. What the hell is “The Wheel in the Sky” about? Even Perry doesn’t know, but he’s laughing all the way to the bank. Pompous arena rock for kids that didn’t get to the circus enough in their youth.

2. Poison

I’m going to create a toll free emergency hot line for any female thinking of going on Brett Michael’s reality show Rock of Love. No one should ever have to kiss that slimy bastard, no matter how much money he pays. Arguably the most unoriginal band in the history of the planet.

1. Motley Crue

Beer belly idiots with stupid hats and bandanas like their chimpanzee cousins Poison. I DON’T GIVE A F**K ABOUT HOW MUCH BOOZE OR DRUGS YOU DID. NO ONE GIVES A F**K ABOUT HOW MUCH BOOZE AND DRUGS YOU DID. Boring. No, worse: loud and boring. Let’s get Poison & The Motley gang together in a remote location for a concert. I’ll buy all the tickets and keep them to myself, then send a cruise missile into their trailer while they’re in their pre-show ritual of drinking Southern Comfort and stuffing socks into the front of their pants.

-Jimmy “Long Knives” Webb


Too true. God, how I hated Hair Metal. And The Eagles (most of ALL, The Eagles.)

The Number One single in the nation this week is Kelly Clarkson’s My Life Would Suck Without You. The song made history for the largest leap ever in Billboard’s chart placement, jumping from number 97 to the top spot in one week. Congratulations, Kelly.
This time last year, Flo Rida’s Low held Billboard’s lead chart position, and two years back Beyonce Knowles did the same with Irreplaceable. Go back one more year, and Beyonce is on top again with Check On It. Mario’s Let Me Love You was Number One for nine weeks in 2005, including this very week. That’s five years of January Number One songs, and I’m not familiar with any of them. In fact, apart from Outcast’s Hey Ya (2004, and a great tune by the way), I have to go back to 2001 before finding a Billboard Number One single for the last week in January that I recognize (Shaggy’s ridiculously catchy dancehall novelty It Wasn’t Me, omnipresent at the time and unheard since;) I never encountered Bump, Bump, Bump (2003) or U Got It Bad (2002). Savage Garden’s I Knew I Loved You rounds out the decade, and I’m not familiar with it either. Ten years of chart toppers from the last days of January, and I am only aware of two of them. Sad.

Sadder still- I can’t identify one song on this week’s Top Ten chart, which also includes Lady GaGa, Beyonce (yet again), Kanye, Taylor Swift and Britney.) Also, none from a year ago, just two from five years ago (Hey Ya and Kelis’ Milkshake), and none from ten years ago. Fifteen years ago- zero. 1989- the year Taylor Swift was born- one (Bobby Brown- My Prerogative.) Things improve for January, 1984- I’m familiar with six out of ten; same thing for 1979. In 1974 I recognize all ten, and again in 1969. So either I was paying closer attention to the radio as a kid or music was more memorable then (more likely both), or pop music charts have simply been sub-categorized into meaningless enumerations and lost their usefulness as a means to both gauge the culture and assist in the sound tracking of our lives.

Anyway, here’s an enumeration, in no particular order, of some hit makers- past and present- without whom my life might not suck:

U2, Coldplay, Phil Collins, Sheryl Crow, Alan Thicke’s goofy kid, Sting, Oasis, Sean Combs, 4 Non Blondes, Justin Timberlake, Kanye West, Ryan Adams, Bryan Adams, Devendra Banhart, Counting Crows, Ringo Starr, Elton John, Air Supply, The Eagles, Jackson Browne, plus everyone else operating out of Los Angeles between 1969 and 1976 (with the exceptions of-- as I’ve stated before- Arthur Lee, Randy Newman and Judee Sill), David Byrne, mid-period onward Chicago, Guns N Roses, Avril Lavigne, Poison, George Michael, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Supertramp, Blink 182, Matchbox 20, The Cure, White Stripes and ilk, Bon Jovi, Maroon 5, Culture Club, Morrissey, Vanilla Ice, Dave Matthews, Paul Simon, Quiet Riot, Korn, Beck, Nickelback, Kid Rock, Fall Out Boy, Jack Johnson, Goo Goo Dolls, Creed, Styx, Oingo Boingo, Mick Jagger, Asia, Wallflowers, Loverboy, Huey Lewis, Kenny G, Michael Bolton, Jefferson Starship, Whitesnake, Pat Benatar, Billy Joel, Journey, Tears For Fears, Captain and Tennille, Linda Ronstadt, Spandau Ballet, Pat Boone, Debby Boone, Smashing Pumpkins, Simple Minds, Robert Mirabal, Spin Doctors, Motley Crue, Nelson, Mike & The Mechanics, Billy Idol, Simply Red, Dire Straits, Gwen Stefani/No Doubt, Limp Bizkit, INXS, Prince, Linkin Park, Hootie and The Blowfish, Live, Bush, The Offspring, Alanis Morissette, Jane’s Addiction, Lenny Kravitz, Rage Against The Machine, Toad The Wet Sprocket, Bauhaus/Batcave shite, Wilson Phillips, UB40, Duran Duran, Rod Stewart, Kenny Rogers, Little River Band, Madonna, Diana Ross, Celine Dion, Whitney Houston, Mariah Carey and various other divas, most Gangta rappers, Toby Keith, Trace Adkins and the rest of the Nashville goofballs, practically all Americana practitioners, Nick Cave, the Fray, and REM.

Something tells me I’ll probably want to add Kelly Clarkson to the list if I ever manage to hear her.
-Michael “The Irish Axe” Mooney


I agree 100% with your piece on not knowing the Top Ten hit parade for the last 20 years or so. The only two songs I've ever liked that my teenage kids liked (and had heavy radio play) were Pink - Get This Party Started, and Black Eyed Peas - Let's Get It Started (damn, I must be ready to get something started.) Your suck list was quite majestic and awe-inspiring. I would like to heartily second Counting (the dullest) Crows, David (I'm an artist) Byrne, Morrissey (why is it that anyone who uses a single name is always a complete and total wanker?), Huey (creator of flabby goof-rock) Lewis, and Alanis (I cashed in on my childhood angst) Morissette. Last but not least, Michael Stipe’s failed 5th grade assignment to dress up and fart in a mud puddle can't go unrecognized, along with the rest of his REM frat brothers.

J. Long Knives
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