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There's a Rev. Norb Book! — Day 2

Are You Receiving Me? — The Annotated Boris (Day 2)

By Mike Faloon

Day 2, part 1:

This from Norb:

Mike: You're a saint. I think the upper case "I" was just a typo -- autocorrect forced me to go back and change all the upper case I's to lower case i's one by one. However, my rule is that, if the "I" in question is part of me quoting someone else, then it's upper case, because it's them saying the "I," which is different than me saying the "i." I just do it because i like how the dot looks. Huzzah!

This from me:

The purpose of a book such as The Annotated Boris is to clarify the underlying meanings, remove doubt as to what was intended with the various lyrical offerings of Boris the Sprinkler.  I’d just like to point out that I...

a) managed to come away with a misunderstanding, however brief,

b) managed to pull off said feat on the back of the title page

c) managed to accomplish a and b on the basis of a typo!

Day 2, part 2:

We were at our neighbor’s yesterday.  Their daughter asked if she could “watch one TV.”  This struck me as a new way of asking to watch television, thinking of tube time in specific units.  She’s used to watching shows on DVD, one episode at a time.  It is in that spirit of digital age “quantitative thinking is go!” that I focus on the footnotes in The Annotated Boris.

There are 982 footnotes in The Annotated Boris.  When I first saw a draft of the book a few months ago I was hoping that the need could be found for 18 additional footnotes.  The prospect of a mini “1000” at the base of the page was pretty cool.  Kind of like watching my car’s odometer flick to 150,000 a couple months ago—certain numbers in certain contexts are, to my mind, cool.

And it’s on that basis alone—the accumulation of 982 footnotes that I could declare Rev. Norb the King of the Footnote.  Most people would argue that this title should be bestowed upon David Foster Wallace.  I’ve never finished a David Foster Wallace book.  I read bits of Consider the Lobster but couldn’t finish it.  I liked it fine but another, newer book came along and I’ve yet to return to The Lobster.  Wallace’s essays were fine and his use of the footnote impressive but at no point did he depose the previous King of the Footnote, Nicholson Baker.  A number of pages in Baker’s book The Mezzanine are more footnote that body text — check out p. 27, for example.  It could be taken as a parlor trick—That lengthy footnote looks cool!  Such lengthy footnotes are certainly not easy to replicate!  What’s the purpose again?—but I think it worked to pretty great effect. 

One gripe, however, and it’s a gripe I wasn’t aware of until diving into The Annotated Boris.  It’s this: Baker resets the footnote count on each page.  As a result of this seemingly innocuous decision the book’s first footnote, on page three, is labeled “1,” and the book’s second footnote, on page four — about watching a straw rise in a can of soda — is also labeled “1.”  Norb, on the other hand, yields to the quantitative fun — makes the wiser choice — and lets the footnote count accumulate.       

What’s the point of having the all footnotes if you don’t keep track of them for the reader?  Surely the sheer number of footnotes in The Mezzanine was intended as part of the book’s appeal, why not keep a running tally?  Someone must have kept track, either Baker or his editor, but they kept the results to themselves.  So it’s not just the total number of footnotes that moves Norb to the top of the AP and UPI “King of Footnotes” polls.  That is but one factor.  The other is simply keeping track.  And this is the next reason I highly recommend The Annotated Boris.

http://www.bulge.biz/

There’s a Rev. Norb Book! – Day 1

Are You Receiving Me? — The Annotated Boris (Day 1)

By Mike Faloon

The Annotated Boris arrived today.  Happy days.  Not jumping the shark, slamming the side of the jukebox, “Howard!” Happy Days, but rather celebratory days, and what could be more apropos?  It’s December 23.  The holiday season is in full gear.  No work for ten days.  Good times with the family.  Consuming an inordinate amount of salty snacks and malty beverages.  Plus, I’ve got gobs of good music lined up for the coming days (the new Treasure Fleet should arrive any day, just got the new Evens record).  The only thing missing from my holiday landscape is a good book.  I just finished Alison Bechdel’s Are You My Mother?  It was wonderful and left me longing for an equally great read.  I’ve picked up and put down three or four books in recent days.  None of them stuck.  A couple days ago I read the first chapter of Philip K. Dick’s The Simulacra.  Pretty good.  Most likely it’ll blossom into a compelling read, but it hasn’t crossed that line yet; I’m still thinking as I turn page to page.  But I’ve got The Annotated Boris in hand. 130,000+ words from Rev. Norb, complete with 982 footnotes.

The Annotated Boris is subtitled Deconstructing the Lyrical Majesty of Boris the Sprinkler (And Other Tales As the Need Arises).  As the title implies it’s a thorough break down of the 70 some odd song lyrics that Norb wrote while a member of Boris the Sprinkler, one of the best bands of the ‘90s.

I didn’t expect this book for several months.  Back in September I found myself the lucky recipient of an email from Norb in which he’d emailed me a PDF of the book.  I thought it was still in feedback stage.  Something to be released in the coming spring or summer.  I tried reading that PDF and stopped rather quickly.  My brain started to ache, overwhelmed by the avalanche of goodness.  In part it was the book itself—tons of dense, pop culture rich reading.  In part it was my aversion to reading anything longer than a paragraph on a computer.  (I’m forever missing bits of emails because I end up skimming them and overlooking the later parts, which are often the main purpose of the email.)  In part it’s my shock and dismay at receiving a Rev. Norb book.  For years I’ve talked with friends about the idea of Rev. Norb book.  I've hoped for a collection of Maximum Rock and Roll and/or Razorcake columns.  I remember Sean Carswell saying he’d mentioned such a book to Norb but it never came to fruition.  Or maybe it was Todd Taylor.  In either case I don’t think many of the columns—written from the mid ‘90s forward—survive in workable formats.

So today I have The Annotated Boris.  I got as far as the back of the title page before stopping to reach for my notebook.  I noticed that Norb used “I,” the upper case version of the pronoun.  Norb is a legendary proponent of lower case “i.”  I’ve never understood why he makes this choice.  I think I asked why once.  I don’t recall his answer.  Regardless, the deviation from the norm, the use of upper case “I” caught my attention.  Here’s the scenario that unfolded in my head: The use of “I” signified that Norb, the writer, the person, the civilian was stepping out of character.  (“i” = punk rock frontman, zine columnist; “I” = the real Norb, the actual Norb)  I glanced at the facing page.  I saw an abundance of “i”s.  Aha, I thought, the use of “I” was deliberate, a conscious choice.  It was not merely a formatting issue.  (Nor was it, I assumed, a norm imposed by an editor or publisher because The Annotated Boris appears under the “Bulge” banner.  In essence a self publication.)

In that fleeting moment I tried to conceive of aspects of Real Guy Norb.  Wherein lay the differences?  A change in voice, lower in register?  A change in deliver, less manic?  A change in attitude or outlook?  I got stuck on these variables.  I didn’t want—wouldn’t want—them to change.  I dig immensely what I’ve read from Norb lo these many years.  The confidence he projects, the precision of his thinking, the unapologetic genius level of recall—I see in these attributes an idealized “some day” version of myself.  And all the while, over the course of hundreds of columns, I’ve operated with the idea that Writer Norb is equivalent to Real Guy Norb.  I assumed I’ve been getting the peek behind the curtain version.  That’s been the point.  He digs into what’s really there and lays it out with a level of spontaneity and insight that's perfect.  (Lenny Bruce meets Jack Kerouac meets Lester Bangs meets Rev. Norb (yes, there are precedents and predecessors but there’s but one Norb). 

I’ve found my book for the holidays.

http://www.bulge.biz/

Are You Receiving Me? – Toys That Kill

By Mike Faloon

Toys That Kill
Fambly 42
Recess Records

I’m confused by a great number of things. Most of them are of little consequence. But the size of a conundrum has little impact on how often said head scratcher pops into my mind’s playlist — magnitude and frequency are different variables, right?

For years I couldn’t understand how people could dig tunes sung in a language they didn’t understand. I’d read about how an American or English band had topped the charts in Spain or Japan or Egypt and wonder how that happened — what did those audiences get from those songs? (Dark Side of the Moon went Top 10 in Algeria? How?) My relationship with music was literal, especially when I was younger. If I couldn’t understand the words, how could I understand the song? I was the kid who always skipped “Komm, Gib Mir Deine Hand” on the Beatles Something New (even though I knew the English version).

Later I loved “La Bamba.” Still do. I thought my high school Spanish had given me enough to understand what Los Lobos were singing. In truth I’ve never gotten past translating “Yo no soy marinero.” (Hey man, I’m no marinero either!) What should have opened my eyes slid into the “exception to prove the rule” bin.

Over time, though, I’ve realized just how few songs I’m able to sing along with from start to finish. Phrases stick, certainly, but there’s an embarrassing amount of mumbling. I’ve listened to Superchunk for 20 years and only in 2010 did I finally start to figure out whole verses. Lately my kids have been into “Pink Shoe Laces,” the 50s tune by Dodie Stevens. It’s taken a concerted effort to remember the lyrics; my kids were chiming along long before I was. Sounds make a big impression on me. Likewise for rhythms and structures, harmonies and melodies. I seldom dwell on a song’s meaning.

All of this gained a new level of clarity when I tried to figure out the appeal of Toys That Kill’s latest album Fambly 42.

Are You Receiving Me? — Daniel Romano

by Mike Faloon

Daniel Romano
Sleep Beneath the Willow LP
You’ve Changed Records

My expectations were set to “dread” the first time I heard Daniel Romano. This was not his fault. He happened to be the opening act when Shadowy Men on a Shadowy Planet reunited in Toronto last summer. By the end of Romano’s set I was wondering if Shadowy Men could keep up.

My wife and I were on vacation and stumbled upon the show. I talked my her ear off trying to convey what a monumentally bit of good fortune we’d come across. We arrived at the club just after the doors opened. I saved her a seat near the stage. She went and caught a movie down the block. I assumed that I’d used all of my good luck in securing tickets and a good sight line. I figured there was no chance of enjoying either of the opening acts; simple math — it’s been ages since I an unknown opener did me right.

Are You Receiving Me? – David Kilgour: Here Comes the Cars Review and Interview

by Mike Faloon

David Kilgour
Here Come the Cars LP
De Stijl Records

Act One: A review of David Kilgour’s Here Comes the Cars (which originally ran on Razorcake.com)

David Kilgour is best known for his work with the Clean, one of New Zealand’s finest exports. Over the past 20 years he’s also released a slew of solo records. Here Come the Cars is a reissue of his first, originally released in 1991. The record opens modestly; the title track barely dips its toes in the water. It’s acoustic and sloooow and has only a trace of drums — but be patient, the payoff is coming. We’re up to our collective waist with “Fine,” which picks up the pace and has a more immediate hook. But it’s a bit like ocean water on the belly, it’s refreshing but you’re aware of it, thinking about it, awaiting more. That comes with the next tracks, three perfect pop songs that wash over you. The rhythm section pushes the tempos. Kilgour mixes in more electric guitars and the songs flow seamlessly. The closing track loops back to the feel of the opener and it’s only then that you’ll realize that you haven’t been able to touch the bottom for awhile. Side two is nearly as good. Here Come the Cars is like a great day at the beach.

Are You Receiving Me? -- Treasure Fleet Cocamotion LP

by Mike Faloon

Treasure Fleet
Cocamotion LP
Recess Records

My favorite musicians are restless; when there is down time with one band, they will start another. They’re like high pressure weather systems — where there’s empty space they’ll fill it.

Scott McCaughey is the main songwriter for the Young Fresh Fellows but he started the Minus 5 when the Fellows were between albums. Todd Congelliere helped launch Underground Railroad to Candyland while Toys That Kill were taking a break. Now Isaac Thotz from the Arrivals has a new gig, Treasure Fleet.

Each of these side projects left port with a specific sonic focus, there was a very particular sub-genre filling their sails. For the Minus 5, it was the third Big Star album, Third (aka Sister Lovers). For Underground Railroad, it was early ‘80s Southern California surf punk. For Treasure Fleet, it’s Brit pop.

I saw Treasure Fleet last month at Awesome Fest. After their set my friend Matt Braun (he’s probably your friend, too — guy knows everyone) summed up Treasure Fleet as “Pink Floyd sounds with Guided By Voices song lengths.” That’s a good starting point.

The first time through Cocoamotion it’s the nods to Syd Barrett’s Floyd that stand out. The echo on the guitars, the distant backing vocals that flutter in and out of focus, the keyboards, even the bass fills that follow the second chorus of “High on a Bicycle” — they all sound as if they were lifted from The Piper at the Gates of Dawn. “Black Rag” and “Proud Mary” are cut from a similar cloth, though come to think of it a more apt comparison might be the singles that Syd and company released prior to Piper, big, bright — short — songs like “Arnold Layne” and “See Emily Play.” (Treasure Fleet only once go past 3:16.)

From there Cocamotion has a number of gems that go beyond the Syd/Floyd palate. “Mourning Dove” sounds like an outtake from Something Else By the Kinks — gentle in pace and tone with a beautiful coat of distant angelic backing vocals.  (Is that Rasa Davies on backing vocals?) One of the record’s great strengths is that the closing songs are the best one. Both are quiter, slower, and revolve around acoustic guitar lines. “We All Go to the Old Ghost Town” sounds like Blur, while “The Good Wife” reminds me of the Jam, maybe a tune like “English Rose.” (“Vice” might be the most instantly catchy song on the record but it strays from the Brit pop template; recast the song’s keyboards with guitar and you’d have a great Arrivals song.)

Are You Receiving Me? – Feeling Like the Comic Book Store Dude from The Simpsons – Weeding Through the Clean’s Odditties

by Mike Faloon

The Clean
Odditties LP
Five Four-O Records

The Clean are a great band. The Clean sound like the best Kinks, Velvet Underground and Pink Floyd. The Clean are so well regarded that their outtakes record, Odditties, has just been released for the third time.

In its original incarnation, Oddities, which rounds up 22 bits and pieces recorded in the band’s early days (’80-‘82), was a pair of cassettes released by the band. Twelve years later, in 1994, Oddities was released on CD by Flying Nun Records. Now it’s on vinyl for the first time courtesy of Five Four-O Records.

But is it worth it? I have the other Clean records. I listen to them regularly. I’m always hoping for more Clean releases. Given the band’s release schedule — 5 full-length studio records in 30 years — this happens infrequently. The prospect of a double album’s worth of new (to me) Clean material made me giddy. But I wanted to know if it was worth tracking down Oddities. How many of these songs were on other records or merely different mixes of songs I already knew.

Are You Receiving Me? – Black Wine

By Mike Faloon

Black Wine
Hollow Earth LP
Don Gionvanni Records

Another summer, another new Black Wine record. A fan of poppy punk rock could get mighty used to such things.  Though it sounds little like past albums, Hollow Earth, the band’s third record, is excellent. Certainly the most consistent, perhaps their best.

Here’s a theory. It belongs to Jeff Schroeck, Black Wine’s guitarist. The band’s first album sounded kind of like the band members’ previous bands (Hunchback, Ergs). The second record, a wildly diverse collection, is a reaction to the debut, a move away from sounding like those previous bands. Hollow Earth sounds like Black Wine. It’s not a reaction to old bands as much as it’s embracing this band.

I hear what he’s saying; I agree and I’d add this: Hollow Earth takes the poppiest moments from the first two albums, polishes the production, and includes just enough unexpected moves, musically and lyrically.

Are You Receiving Me? – Nardwuar and the Evaporators Present Busy Doing Nothing!

By Mike Faloon

Nardwuar, The Evaporators, and Special Guests
Busy Doing Nothing LP and Calendar (!)
Nardwuar/Mint Records

Question: Which of our five contestants is telling the truth?

#1: My name is Busy Doing Nothing! I’m a Nardwuar album.

#2: My name is Busy Doing Nothing! I’m an Evaporators album.

#3: My name is Busy Doing Nothing! I’m a tribute album.

#4: My name is Busy Doing Nothing! I’m a calendar.

#5: My name is Busy Doing Nothing! I’m a zine.

Answer: All of the above.

Busy Doing Nothing! is a veritable variety show. It offers a wide range of garage and pop bands, along with interviews (audio and text), a great looking calendar, and fantastic graphic design.  

Side Nard, known on the south side of the border as the A-side, is a tribute to Canadian bands of the past.  Side Wuar has six Evaporators tunes followed by a Nardwuar interview with Franz Ferdinand.

The calendar focuses on Bev Davies’ photographs from the late ‘70s and early ‘80s. D. Boon, James Brown, New Order, Iggy Pop, Joan Jett and, perhaps best of all, extras from the set of Ladies and Gentleman, the Fabulous Stains. There is also a Nardwuar interview with Davies detailing the backstory of each photo.

The graphic design is the crowning touch. Anyone who’s ever seen a Nardwuar record before knows to expect a great looking album. Busy Doing Nothing! is no exception. Everything’s perfect — color schemes, lettering, layout. With most records you might notice one or two of those elements but it’s all aces here, even the record’s spine, which is so wide you bike on it. (Production design credit goes to Robynn and Randy Iwata)

So, the packaging is immaculate. Is the music any good? If the style scores a 10, then how about the substance? The line up doesn’t have the same marquee appeal of past Nardwuar compilations, but that didn’t matter initially because I was so caught up in the bounty of graphics and interviews. Eventually focus came my way and with it a bevy of fun tunes. Chief among the tribute/cover songs were Franz Ferdinand (nicely bending Pointed Sticks’ “Real Thing” into a kind of Echo and the Bunnymen tune) and—just to make things more self referential—Fuad & the Feztones covering the Evaporators’ “Welcome to My Castle” with a good coat of Sam the Sham silliness.  Kate Nash puts a whole different bounce into cub’s “My Chinchlla,” and it works really well until they lapse into “let’s play fast’n’yell,” which undermines an otherwise really clever reworking.  

The rest of the record is devoted to the Evaporators. To enjoy the Evaporators you have to be prepared to fully embrace the ridiculous, you have to be at ease with phrases along the lines of, “this is so stupid it’s wonderful.” Hopefully that comes easy to you. If so, the Evaporators, fronted by Nardwuar himself, have what you need but didn’t realize: “I Hate Being Late When I’m Early,” “Hot Dog High,” the title track, and “Pig War” are all excellent. 

Side Nard scores a 7 while Side Wuar earns a 9. That’s an 8 for substance to go with the 10 for style. Overall, that warrants seeking out Busy Doing Nothing!

Now, where do I submit this review for “Canadian Heritage” funding?

Are You Receiving Me? – Night Birds

By Mike Faloon

Night Birds
The Other Side of Darkness LP
Grave Mistake Records

Dear Brian Cogan,

I’m worried about you, my friend. You’ve been posting status updates on Facebook like the New Bomb Turks used to release 7”s, that is to say with alarming frequency. It’s probably not a cry for help, not a digital “give me a hand, dude.” It’s probably just filling gaps of time as you work on other projects. (How many books do you have in the works?) Regardless, I’ve got a record that you, more so than anyone else I know, will dig immeasurably: The Other Side of Darkness by the Night Birds.

It’s fantastic, a step up from the band’s formidable 7”s mostly because there’s more music — a 22-minute sustained blast compared to the 4-to-10-minute jolts of the previous records. I think you know what these guys sound like but just in case, think California surf punk — blazing tempos, dire lyrics, beautiful guitar tones; Dick Dale in hyperdrive. I recognize that the Night Birds’ sound pretty clearly comes from their forebears—they’re not out to obscure their influences — but how many of those early ‘80s bands built full-length records this good? (I ask sincerely, not rhetorically. Early ‘80s hardcore is not my forte and you literally wrote a book on it.)

So why listen to this Night Birds record as opposed to the hundreds of other reocrds calling for your attention? Valid question. You want details, supporting evidence, as well you should. I’d start with the Mike Hunchback’s guitar playing. Here then are one listener’s guide to Mike Hunchback’s stunning guitar moments on the Night Birds’ The Other Side of Darkness: 

1. “Born of Man and Woman” – this song seems complete but then this wave of overdubs kick in with :18 left, oh my
2. “Land Fill Land” – a riff that would make Easy Bay Ray proud (or maybe envious, not sure of the last time he cooked up something so riveting)
3. “One Eye” – once again a brief, brilliant flurry of overdubbing, this time he waited until there was :09 left, which doesn't seem like enough time to accomplish anything
4. “Day After Trinity” – great instrumental, though too short at 1:22
5. “Failed Species” – I don’t if this qualifies as a solo or maybe it’s more of a guitar break, regardless it’s bliss from :50 - :59
6. “Oblivious” – at the 2:06 mark there is yet another solo, but it’s more of a rock solo, albeit a fast one, than it is a punk or surf solo — what a range this guy has!

You’ll dig the lyrics, too, especially the movie references. “Hoffman Lens” is based on John Carpenter’s They Live. (Have you read the Jonathan Lethem book yet? Excellent read. It’s from the same Deep Focus series that gave us John Ross Bowie’s Heathers and Josh Wilker’s The Bad News Bears in Breaking Training.) There’s also a Woody Allen reference in “Land Fill Land,” which the band was considerate enough to footnote. How many bands — surf punk or otherwise — care enough to annotate their lyrics? I’m sure there are references to other movies, too. (Do you recognize the sound bite from the end of “Paranoid Times”?)  

Thanks for listening. As always you’re a great sounding board. I’ve been enjoying The Other Side of Darkness for months, but only now have I managed to piece together something like a review. (I gave the record four more spins today. It’s still getting better.)

Enjoy,

Mike