Huff and I'll puff ...

... and I'll blow the candles out. Well, not me - but my mom, that's who. Today my mom gains another year of experience on this floating rock. Even though I won't get to see her today, I thought of dear old mom as I worked to expand the man's pocketbook.
Mom's a good mom. She listens, she lets me rant about nothing, and she even reads this blog - making the regular number of readers a strong two.
Mom share's a birthday with Beatle John Lennon, who's "Working Class Hero - Collection" was spinning on my iTunes most of the day. I must say though that dear Mr. Lennon does have a few years on mom.
Lennon wasn't mom's favorite Beatle. It was George Harrison, the quiet one. I dig Harrison too. I like how he did his job well. So well, that most often you didn't notice him - unless he's gone or not there.
Mom's a rocker at heart - she took me to my first big arena concert - Neil Diamond, not the first band or artist that I'd pick, but she tried and helped instill the music bug that is in me now. Later in life, she and I would stand near the front of the stage for Bruce Hornsby at the Vogue in Indy. We would laugh at the Chris Issak fans as they swooned over him after Hornsby was an opening act. She even sat through a little of Medeski, Martin and Wood. I'm pretty sure it wasn't her thing, but she tried because I was into them. We watched Al Green croon to a crowd of thousands at the Indy Jazz Fest, then the next night were amazed as a tiny shuffling man named Ray Charles tickled the keyboards in what was one of my favorite music moments yet.
We laughed at an aging joke of a performer that James Brown has become. We even still joke about his pork chop sandwich that he somehow lost on a visit to Indy.
The whole family watched guitar God Eric Clapton wail away on Blackie (or a close replica). She mostly enjoyed his 'Somewhere over the Rainbow' solo and his later material, while I was shaking my booty to 'Sunshine of Your Love' and 'Crossroads.' But we were there, together.
We even saw Sir Paul walk out on stage and hoist his Hoefner above his head before busting out three hours of Beatles and solo hits. At one point, mom turned to me and screamed "It's really him!" I couldn't believe it either - an actual Beatle in the same room with us. Mom was 16 again, or at least a teenager.
So, my mom rocks. It's simple. I'll call her tonight and tell her that, or something close to it for sure.

-DJr.-

Wilco? Wil-can't

Wilco played a show Wednesday night at Purdue. Needless to say, plans to attend fell through and I missed them - again. I've seen them twice already, but twice is not enough for one of music's most important rock bands. I saw them in '97 on a side stage with about 100 other people, then saw them again in '02 in Indy at the Egyptian Room. April and I went with our friends Mike, Racheal and Brian - all of whom are now in Arizona.
So, anyway, being that I was not going to be in attendance at Wednesday night's show, I listened to three different bands that Wilco lead singer Jeff Tweedy has been in.
So, I spun these discs on my iTunes all day ...
Golden Smog "Another Fine Day"
Wilco "SummerTeeth"
Uncle Tupelo "May 1, 1994"

Golden Smog is the occasional project of Tweedy, along with members of Soul Asylum, The Jayhawks, The Replacements and The HoneyDogs. "Another Fine Day" make me feel just dandy. You can feel the Jayhawks and Wilco sides morphing together on the playing and songwriting. Key tracks for this album, in my opinion of course, are "Beautiful Mind," "Hurricane," "Another Fine Day" and "5-22-02." Why? Beacause they're all good ;) The entire album is pretty solid. The playing on "Beutiful Mind" feels like an early 90s college radio tune. "Hurricane" is reminiscent of the Replacements dirty, raw pop era tunes that still beat anything considered pop today. "Another Fine Day" and "5-22-02" could easily fit into the Wilco repetoire. The rocky side of the 'alt-country' genre that the band fit into solidly with 'SummerTeeth' and 'Being there.'
Anyway, I saw that the next time Wilco is in our neighborhood is Nov. 24 and 25. The kind of annual post-Thanksgiving hometown shows the band does in Chicago. Again, I'll be missing them, but it's OK. I'll be on a beach in Hawaii, likely listening to the ocean lap the beach, while Wilco tunes play in my head.
-DJr.-

You so 'Dirty'

Another crazy week is done, with a semi-relaxing weekend behind me. Saturday saw the day I dread most - the day Purdue gets beat by Notre Dame. I despise of all things Notre Dame. I'm even Catholic and I wish this festering wound that resides in South Bend would just go away. It seems that anyone who doesn't have ties to a school of their own, leeches on to this cesspool because they want a winning team to follow. Well, punk, it's easy to be a winning team when you only play one ranked school all year long with a schedule full of patsies such as Army, Air Force, Temple and Navy.
One year, for Christmas, I received a Notre Dame sweatshirt as a gift. If I remember I may have even asked for it .. but that was when I was a stupid kid with blinders on. I saw other kids in my school with Notre Dame stuff on and thought they were cool. I wanted to be cool, but at what cost? The cost of wearing a Notre Dame shirt? Good lord, if there was one time period in my life I could erase, I'd consider that one of my top five options. Thank God I don't care if I'm cool anymore, I'd be wearing Tommy Hilfiger, Abercrombie and other worthless, overpriced garb that falls apart as quickly as the cheap crap I buy at Target and Costco.

Anyway ... today's tunes:
Granddaddy "Sumday"
The Cure "Wish"
Neil Young "Tonight's the Night"
Sonic Youth "Dirty"

I rediscovered one of my favorite albums today - Sonic Youth's "Dirty."
Why does a fuzz-ridden album that was released 14 years ago still hold up? There's nothing terribly ground breaking on it. It's not a rookie release, or a major label debut. I think it's because it stood out among a lot of bad 'angry rock' attempts of the early 90s. It's not friendly as an initiative to the band, but I think only their latest disc, "Rather Ripped" is a good intro.
It's not so much angry as it is making a statement. "Swimsuit Issue" break with the moaning of 'Naomi,' 'Judy,' 'Paulina,' 'Cathy,' 'Vendella' and other so-called super models are called out to their meaning. "Drunken Butterfly" opens with an assault on the six strings and the feedback pouring back to the listener. The pop moment of the album hits at "Sugar Kane" and I wonder why in this time period that this tune didn't make it on the air? No MTV? No nothing? This would have been a perfect grunge friendly radio hit for Geffen Records. Whatever. Maybe they were reluctant to initiate others into their ciricle of fans. No problem here, I'll introduce this band to anyone that cares to listen.