As Promised: My Top 73 Since ’73

[Thank you, Mark Prindle, for getting me to think through this stuff. I will surely realize I’ve forgotten massively important records soon. Also, I did my very best to give a straight account of “rock” records I listen to and love the most and not more canonical/obscure albums I could/should be listening to. Now please, readers, use the comments section to tell me which of these albums you would most like to hear me review, and also to comment on weird patterns, trends, and what does/doesn’t surprise you. So begins a new era for the Prisonship, largely devoted to rock-writing either about specific albs mentioned herein, the process of choosing them, or my own embarrassingly un-reformed ‘early 90s indie rock’ allegiances.. Other rock/art/lit/non sequitur programming will return to the beloved OG. ps – I have a (more expedient than justifiable) rationalization for excluding Grateful Dead music that I’ll try to explain later.]

Big Star, Radio City
Big Star, Third/Sister Lovers
Boys’ Life, Departures and Landfalls
Braid, Frame and Canvas
Breeders, Pod
Canyon, Empty Rooms
Chisel, 8am All Day
Come, Eleven: Eleven
Dinosaur, You’re Living All Over Me
Dylan, Bob, Blood on the Tracks
Dylan, Bob, Biograph
Eno, Brian, Music for Airports
Eno, Brian Music for Films
Gastr Del Sol, Upgrade and Afterlife
Grifters, One Sock Missing
Fall, Hip Priest and Kamerads
Flying Saucer Attack, Further
For Carnation, Fight Songs
Fugazi, In on the Killtaker
Grifters, One Sock Missing
Guided By Voices, Propeller
Guided By Voices, Bee Thousand,
Guided By Voices, Get Out of My Stations,
Guided By Voices, Vampire on Titus,
Guided By Voices, Alien Lanes,
Husker Du, Zen Arcade
Jawbreaker, 24-hour Revenge Therapy
Labradford, A Stable Reference
Mission of Burma, Signals, Calls and Marches
Minutemen, Double Nickels on the Dime
Morrison, Van, Veedon Fleece
My Bloody Valentine, Loveless
New ‘Bomb’ Turks, Destroy! Oh Boy!
‘New’ Terror Class, Did You Hear that We Fucked?
Nirvana, Nevermind
Palace Bros., Days in the Wake
Palace Songs, Viva Last Blues
Pavement, Slanted and Enchanted
Pavement, Watery, Domestic
Pere Ubu, The Modern Dance
Pixies, Surfer Rosa
Prekop, Sam, s/t
Roxy Music, For Your Pleasure
Slint, Spiderland
Slowdive, Souvlaki
Smog, Kicking a Couple Around
Songs: Ohia, Magnolia Electric Co.
Son Volt, Trace
Son Volt, Straightaways
Son Volt, Wide String Tremolo
Sonic Youth, Sister
Sonic Youth, Evol
Sonic Youth, Daydream Nation
Spencer, Jon, Extra Width
Springsteen, Bruce, Darkness on the Edge of Town
Springsteen, Bruce, Nebraska
Springsteen, Bruce, Born to Run
Sugar, Copper Blue
Sugar, Beaster
Tall Dwarfs, Hello, Cruel World
Teenage Fanclub, Songs from Northern Britain
Television, Marquee Moon
Thin Lizzy, Vagabonds of the Western World
Unwound, New Plastic Ideas
Unwound, The Future of What
Velvet Underground, 1969: Live
Walkmen, A Hundred Miles Off
Whiskeytown, Faithless Street
Wire, Pink Flag
Wood, Ron, I’ve Got My Own Album to Do
Young, Neil, Zuma
Young, Neil, Tonight’s the Night
Young, Neil, On the Beach


PShip Lowest-Common-Denominator Talk

‘d love to hear you peoples weigh in on this important debate started over at the still-inspirational Electrical Forum.

[This being an important new experiment with “blue” content on the PShip, and an indicator that we’ve pivoted away from the pre-teen/teen demographic, which, admittedly, was a big part of our early successes.]

Walkmen on Conan Tonite

(to be read in Euro-‘Luther’ voice)

Walkmen greet you, appearing on television show tonite. Dress up for you, meet you after show! Walkmen hand you memorabilia, ask to dance with you. Then chew you, pray with you, feel you, heal you. Sing sad, loud, scratchy song for you! Languish with you, bathe in pulsating, white-hot sexy organ, too. Why you not meet Walkmen in street after party?

Prisonship Rock-Talk, 2009

Loosely, the 2009 model of le Prisonship’ll be busying itself primarily with blurbage emanating from the process of filling out the “Best 73 Rock Albs Since 1973” survey by one Mark Prindle, interweb-life’s preeminent Meltzer-inheritor and a genuine trustworthy oracle of rock-crit.

I would’ve kept this as a “surprise,” but thought some of you kids might wanna take a stab at filling out your own forms in advance of the 1/30/2009 deadline.

A High Point for Our CounterPublic

Hardcore for Nerds: Joseph McRedmond Interview + TCR Unreleased Demos w/ Alex Dunham

This is why we nerds need our blogs. This – with the WFMU sessions – constitutes the high-point of Gabba’s Hoover Genealogy Project, and introduces to even us devotees a couple-three different bands/albs we’d otherwise’ve been ignorant of. High praise to Joe McRedmond for taking the time to satiate at least 2-3 dozen of us drooling/foaming Hoover/Crownhate-ites, and high praise to Gabba for having “the stones” (does that translate into Irish-Anglais?) to ask this question and stand up to Joe’s understandably dismissive response:

What do you think about the term ’emo’ (or its sister codeword, ’90s post-hardcore’)?

I don’t think about shit like that.

Sure, guys in bands don’t care for the genre-ing of their own particular efforts…why would they? But asking that question, Gabba remembers his readers as much as his reporterly/historian-y duty to ask ‘what happened’ and how the make-things-happen-ers understood themselves and their acts. (I wish we could pay him a living wage to do it, but mebbe that’d change things irrevocably.) That’s important to a few of us, at least. As actual people, god bless them, get actual book deals to put forth “definitive” accounts for whoever cares enough to know the key bands but not enough to interrogate the also-rans, it’s more-than-necessary for us devotees to stoke the fire of our broader, weirder secret history and secret critique. It’s only for the half-interested that “emo,” “post-hardcore” or “dc” and other taxa comprise iron-cage like, overdetermining frames. For us weirdoes, these terms are useful and always-only-half-serious, useful for conversation because of their falling short of describing much. (This is sorta like, to fall into Adorno paraphrasing, the idea that philosophy continues to be an important discourse because the opportunity for its realization has been missed.)

Thus hardcore for nerds, zen and the art of…, pukekos, one base, and so many others combine to provide my ever-present rock-nerd subject-position with the web equivalent of a Habermas-y coffee house, a “stitch and bitch” at Shenanigans (Sewanee, TN), and a stoned constitutional convention. May it always be. And may I finally start carrying my weight in 2009. What matters more? Lotsa things. But lotsa those more important things’re things I like less. And these days I need the things I like close by, in order to continue my trying-not-to-seize campaign.


so the originary jayhwaks, olson + louris, are all reunited and shit for a long-awaited duo album (prononounced, “AHblum.”)

i am having a hard time, and between facial ticks i spend a lot of gas pondering some kinda deus ex machina that i can’t help but wait for, if not expect. amidst the worst month of my life, one welcome form such a partial game-changer could take is that of the great alb.

rainy day music being the last great thing from either one of these guys (louris), it’s a longshot.  but both of their solo albs last year were positive steps, and Captain’s Dead guy seems pleased. it’s enough, at least, to turn my attention to the question of ‘what does a great alb sound like in 2009?’ for a moment. Rest assured, pship frnds, that I’ll let you know as soon as I do.

what inspires you chaps and lady-chaps?

this parable goes back to my days on an archaeology crew in south and central NJ. one day i was walking out of a WaWa when i turned a corner and happened upon two caucasian mid-teens in puffy coats, trying to get tough for one another’s benefit. as we passed, the one kinda friend-shoved the other, and slurred…

Maaaaaaan…. FUCK jesus!”

some people need to take acid or get tattooed before they can feel like they’ve finally, definitively shattered their hometown mores and gone deep off the chain. all these boys needed were mouths, words, and the good sense to look around for idols to profane. ain’t that america?