Artists I Plan On Reviewing (Someday...)

I get a lot of questions and requests about whether I'm going to review so-and-so in the near future. Here's a list of acts that are on my schedule. Some of these acts you might see reviews of within a few weeks, and some -- well, whenever. Also, keep in mind that this list is not all-inclusive -- I have a record collection that I estimate is somewhere in the neighborhood of 2,000 albums (a perhaps liberal estimate; I haven't taken the time to take an exact count lately), so I might stumble across some little gem I'd forgotten about tomorrow or the next day. And I buy even more albums at a ridiculous rate, which leaves even more to assimilate (don't worry, I multi-task. I've got a walkman). Does hearing all this music inevitably lead to my eventual insanity? Perhaps. What does drive me a bit nuts is realizing that, as I gaze out upon all the music I have stored in my home, the task of evaluating and reviewing all of it will take me years, possibly decades -- decades in which I'll aquire even more music, and more, and more...this website might stretch onto infinity, or at least my brief mortal frame.

For starters, you can view my entire CD/Tape/Vinyl collection (work in progress; I should have it finished by the end of this week -- bewarned, it will be a very long list).


AC/DC: The Dumb and Dumber of rock, great fun and kick-ass and screw all this pansy-ass shit called artistic ambition. Mark Prindle's to blame for the reason I didn't review them a long time ago -- just scroll down at the incredible amount of violently insane frothings of rabid AC/DC fans on his page. I'll step up with my opinions and take the idiot flames like a man. The problem is, they've made basically one album a dozen times.

The Animals: I've got the two-disc set that contains everything they recorded.

The Band: They sound like nice, well-meaning guys (they're Canadian, after all), but they don't rock, they essay a platonic imitation of what rocking out should sound like. If you're a member of a Civil War reenactment society, they'll perk up your interest, but aside from a few good songs here and there, I don't get what all the fuss is about.

The Beastie Boys: Their first two albums are pretty cool, but I just can't get into their '90s work -- too hip and ironic for its own good, kind of boring, actually.

Captain Beefheart: There's weird, and then there's Beefheart -- he makes Zappa seem like a straight. Which unfortunately means that only 1% of the human race has ears attuned to Beefheart's wavelength -- and I'm not one of those lucky few. I realize he's a genius and all, but I really wish I could make it all the way through Trout Mask Replica.

James Brown: I've got the most monotonous man in showbiz's Live at the Apollo, and all I have to say is "I guess you had to be there." I realize he's influential, but do I have to listen to him play the same damn song with slight lyric changes for his entire career?

Leonard Cohen: Calling Cohen a songwriter isn't accurate - all he does is read his poetry to rudimentary string music. In other words, dullsville.

Creedence Clearwater Revival: Since nearly all of their work is found on the compilations Chronicle Vol. 1 & 2, I never got around to picking up most of the original albums. I'll get around to the two original albums of theirs I do own - this great band deserves better, of course.

The Cure: I've got nearly all of their albums, but I haven't listened to them in a long while. Mainly a good singles outfit with so-so albums; like many people, I find Robert Smith's voice annoyingly whiny.

Dinosaur Jr.: The world's most slavish Neil Young imitator. Pretty limited, and he's a horrible singer. But I've got several of their albums, in addition to bassist Lou Barlow's spin-off band, Sebadoh (who smoke way too much pot, and unfortunately, it shows).

The Doors: I'm missing a couple of key albums, Strange Days and The Soft Parade, but I suppose I'll just have to review their ouvre with those two gaps (for now).

ELO: I liked the Move enough to think that there was the possibility that Jeff Lynne might have once had some talent, so I checked out one of their early albums. My mistake. The horror, the horror!

Aretha Franklin: Overrated as a singer -- she shouts too much; but still one of the greats. Like most R & B artists, better heard on singles, but I've got a couple of her '60s classic LPs and they're good.

Peter Gabriel: Talented dude. I'm just starting my Gabriel appreciation right now, so give me a little time to absorb it all.

Guided By Voices: I certainly do not intend on purchasing every single piece of music Robert Pollard has recorded in a fit of drunken inspiration, but he has seen fit to release all of it anyway.

Jimi Hendrix: Got all of the studio albums he released in his lifetime. Coming soon!

Led Zeppelin: It will take a mighty struggle on my part to get over the insane radio overplay of the most overrated band in history for me to ever stomach listening to them again. Hell, I liked Led Zeppelin IV, too - the first time I heard it. On the 13,000th airing of "Stairway To Heaven," I can't reach to switch the radio dial fast enough.

The Meat Puppets: Charmingly scruffy little band, not as great as folks like Kurt Cobain would like you to believe -- imagine an acid-fried ZZ Top fronted by a guy who can't hold a tune but can write and play guitar like ringing a bell.

The Minutemen: A talented, legendary funk-punk power-trio that I admire but don't listen to all that much - perhaps because their sound is more interesting than their songs.

Randy Newman: This smartass Jew (his words, not mine!) pens some of the funniest, most intelligent pieces of satire I've ever heard. But musically he's just a guy at a piano.

Parliament-Funkadelic: Weird shit, man. George Clinton might be the most influential individual of the '70s -- he created a sound system that had definitely never been heard before, and that Martian funk soul definitely proved very, very influential. I've only got one album apiece by Parliament and Funkadelic, though.

Liz Phair: Overrated, but name me an act that isn't these days. Cynically media-manipulative in the Madonna tradition, her tactics were overheard by Alanis and now we're hearing the word ironic used unironically.

Pink Floyd: My parents had nearly all their albums at one time, so I've heard most of their music. However, I kind of lost interest a long time ago, and so I don't actually own of their albums right now. Probably time to start listening again, but there was a reason I tuned out -- Roger Water's obnoxious self-pity and none-too-deep insights, and long-winded boring instrumental passages broken occasionally by actual tunes.

Public Enemy: The greatest hip-hop group ever, I definitely need to deal with these Clash-style poseurs soon. However, I'm waiting until I can find cheap copies of their more recent, post-heyday CDs for that all-important career overview.

Radiohead: One of the better bands to emerge from the morass of the '90s, reviving that moribund genre called prog-rock almost single-handedly. I've got all of their albums; problem is, even after two dozen listens, I still haven't decided whether O.K. Computer is a prog-rock masterpiece or a great cure for insomnia. Probably both.

The Rolling Stones: I've only got a dozen of their albums, which leaves a lot of gaps -- I don't want to tackle such an important band until I've heard most of their work (I thought about just ending my overview with Some Girls, but I guess I'll plunge in with my nose held into the cesspool of their last 20 years...)

Sleater-Kinney: I've got nearly all of their albums, and I find them a competent, rocking garage that churns out some really exciting riff-tunes -- but nothing more than that.

Sonic Youth: Sonic Bores more like it. Two or three great albums worth of material diluted by tuneless noise wanking. I've got nearly all of their discs -- it's just a matter of forcing myself to listen to the "difficult" albums again.

Richard Thompson: An amazing guitarist who pens some of the best lyrics in pop music, Thompson is one of those people I tend to admire more than get excited about -- probably due to his unappealing voice and tendency toward gloomy dirge-paced material.

XTC: Clever lads, and they've staked their own quirky little turf that has paved the way for dozens of latter-day Nerd Rockers. On the whole, I don't get them, though - too quirky and clever for their own good. But so many other folks with good taste like them, I get the feeling I might come around sooner or later.

Kiwi Pop: For a nation of only 3 million people and 50 million sheep, New Zealand has produced an alarming amount of Paul McCartney knockoffs. I'll deal with the Chills, Split Enz/Crowded House, and their progeny as soon as I hunker down and start telling them all apart.

More Australian Bands: In contrast to their mild, pastoral cousings Down Under, the Aussies are a hard-rockin' bunch whose patron saints are AC/DC and the Stooges. Speaking of the Saints, I've got a late-period LP of theirs, but it's after they'd mellowed out -- I'd be much more interested in their early punk albums ("I'm Stranded" is one heckuva punk anthem). The Easybeats were a great band, but all I've got is their greatest hits comp. In other words, the problem is that most Australian albums are hard to find overseas.

Pre-1960s Rock-Oriented Music: This is an album review site, and until the mid-'60s, albums were hastily assembled affairs that nobody cared much about because the real market was in singles -- which is why I haven't reviewed Chuck Berry or Woody Guthrie or Billie Holiday yet, much as I'd like to. I've got Elvis' The Sun Sessions, which has to rank as one of the most overrated albums of all time -- he's good, certainly, but give me a break! Nobody deserves the deification of Elvis, especially on an album of such considerably mild pleasures - sorry, I just don't get it.

More Country: Heard it all my life, and gotten pretty damn sick of it, but in my older years I've rediscovered the pleasures and artistry of certain performers. Problem is, while there are plenty of good country greatest hits compilations, there are very few worthwhile country LPs, and this website reviews albums, not singles and box sets. As much as I'd like to throw in my two cents on Hank Sr., that ain't gonna be happenin' anytime soon. P.S. And when I say country, I mean real country -- not this post-Garth hat act crap that's pollutin' the infernal radio these days.

More Generic '80s Hardcore Punk: A.K.A. the crap Mark Prindle likes more than he should. Heck, I liked it too, but I'm not 16 anymore, and I've got all these tapes of mediocre punk bands sitting around that I know I'll have to listen to again eventually.

Even More '80s Bands: As with the '90s, there are tons of tapes and CDs gathering dust in my closet that I need to revisit. Mostly minor bands that haven't grabbed me by the ear hard yet (Los Lobos, Robyn Hitchcock, Julian Cope, the Bangles, the Long Ryders, Jason & the Scorchers, Paul Kelly, etc. -- geez, the list is endless...)

Lots and Lots and Lots of '90s Bands: I'd wager I've got more albums from this decade than any other. The problem is, most of them suck -- the perils of dealing with the unknown quantity of fresh new bands. My main hassle is finding the time to deal with them all, and weed out the worthy-but-minor to the actually-quite-good to the no-this-is-really-good to the pathetic crap. I'd wager this might be the most useful section of my site, whenever I get around to it for that reason. Is there really any qualitative difference between Supergrass and Superchunk and the Superfriendz? Wait and see.

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