Food: Grilled chicken and veggies with red leaf salad

I used some lump hardwood for my coals this time, instead of briquettes. They take a bit longer to get hot, but they stay quite hot for a long time.

Fennel, white onion and russet potato were all drizzled and rubbed with canola oil and grilled for about six minutes on either side. After the potatoes were done, I opted to throw some Sriracha on the side and some freshly cut chives on top. I overcooked the veggies the other night (hence, no photo) so I was careful to keep turning and make sure everything was getting done, but not too done.

The chicken was just a couple of organic free range breasts, rubbed with Spice Hunter's Seafood Grill Shaker and a bit of extra salt. About five minutes on either side and done.

Red leaf salad with chopped hothouse tomatoes and mozzarella cheese chunks.

And when I went out to scrape the grill and wrap things up, I saw this nice view of the moon through the neighbor's tree...


Oh my, am I ever full and happy.

~Austin

I Had No Idea: 10,000 Maniacs' Hope Chest (1982-1983)

I guess consider this an 'old music' style post but, keep in mind that I literally just picked up this album this past week, so where I know all those other albums front to back, this one is extremely fresh to me in comparison.

As a kid who came of age as a music fan in the early 90's, all I knew of 10,000 Maniacs was their hit cover of 'Because the Night' and it wasn't my cup of tea. A few years later, I recognized that voice on another modern rock radio staple and while it was a nice little melodic ditty, I still wasn't sold.

So, when I really dove into rock music and my preferred sound of the late 1970's and 1980's new wave era, I kind of skipped over 10,000 Maniacs because I figured they were not of the style that I knew I liked. I can honestly say that I don't know what prompted me to re-investigate them. I have been on somewhat of a jangle kick recently so, in my constant search for whatever I'm liking, I did a random search about the Maniacs on AMG, previewed some tracks on Amazon and decided I had unfairly passed them over.

So, I thought, start at the beginning...




I picked up the Hope Chest album because it compiles the band's first EP (Human Conflict Number 5) and full length (Secrets of the I Ching) onto one disc and is much more easily available than finding the originals.

Imagine Johnny Marr playing guitar on the first Throwing Muses album and throw a sort of sporadic reggae slant into the mix and you have the first recordings of 10,000 Maniacs. It's your basic new wave formula for something that, by all reasonable logic, shouldn't work, but does because of the simplicity of the arrangements and tunes.

Unfortunately, it is one of those albums where the first song is so outstanding and unique and what follows is just not as good. But what a track that first one is. 'Planned Obsolescence' is standard new wave bassline and simple drumbeat dominated greatness. Robert Buck's strangely effected guitar warbles and squabbles its way through the song, acting as little more than a confusion while Natalie Merchant's dominating voice takes the lead melody. She sings in these strange sentence fragments and never seems content to stay on one note for more than two words. The entire thing comes to a brilliant head when she finally blurts out in the second half of the tune that 'Any modern man can see that religion is obsolete' and the tune's true melody comes out from behind the shadows. A wonderful slice of seemingly subtle atheist rock.

The rest of the album is much more along the lines of what the Maniacs would end up sounding like. They were still a little faster and a bit more freewheeling at this point, but, for the most part, there's a little bit of softly strummed guitars and a whole lot of Natalie Merchant's captivating voice. She's clearly the star of the show, but she's never overbearing or intrusive to the rest of the band. Instead, they both compliment each other exceptionally well.

Take a song like 'Poor De Chirico' where the band goes back and forth between a lovely jangle and an organ-laced roots reggae groove, but atop it all is Natalie's swooping vocals. When the thing explodes into an honest-to-goodness guitar solo, you'd be hard pressed to to call the band middle of the road or unwilling to take chances.

Other highlights for me are the wonderful jangle of 'Grey Victory,' the original less-floaty version of 'Tension' (which would be revived later on as 'Tension Makes A Tangle'), the great rant on 'Daktari' and pseudo-funk of 'Pit Viper.'

Overall, this material has a genuine charm to it because it has shades of where the band would go afterwords, but there is something entirely unique about them. Kind of like the same vibe I get from R.E.M.'s Chronic Town EP, as it's clear that the band is not really a new wave group. But they came about in the period that punk and new wave was the dominant cutting edge rock movement and their primary influences all came from those kinds of bands. So, even though the urge to play something else was there, they still couldn't push past that new wave influence quite yet and subsequently made something completely remarkable.

I mentioned earlier about how the band, at this point seemed anything but middle of the road or unwilling to take chances, but it seems like the more records they made, the more they became of both of those things. Not that that's a bad thing. If you find something that works, why change it?

I went back a few days later and picked up The Wishing Chair, the band's second full length and first album on a major label. There is definitely a more pronounced slant towards the folk rock and jangle pop that they would become known for. The reggae influence is gone and there are plenty of interweaving riffs; so it's basically the album where they became an alt-rock band. Fine and good for that sound, but simply nowhere near as engaging as the earlier material.

Maybe I will delve further into the band's catalogue after a full digestion of Hope Chest and The Wishing Chair, but right now, I'm basking in a really great (re?)discovery.

Seal of approval? Why not! It's certainly a great album!


~Austin

Moon blends with clouds.

From the back yard about half after six this evening. I nearly missed it because the moon was camouflaged among the clouds so well.

Subtle beauty. Awesome.

~Austin

Old Music: Modern English's After the Snow (1982)

In a strange paradox, I feel like, most of the time, this album is underrated or forgotten about because of its one huge song. Forgotten because of popularity and perhaps a bit of over saturation. Of course, 'I Melt With You' is the definition of classic. One of those perfect pop singles that defined an era and, through its universally articulate lyrics, simultaneously transcended that era for generations to come. Wonderful stuff. And one of those rare moments where a song is so good it feels, in retrospect, like a poetic victory for truly creative and genuine music.

But what about the album that that fantastic slice of pure pop magic came from?

Well, my friend, I'm glad you asked.

Originally released in 1982 on the British 4AD label, it must have sounded like an epic masterpiece at that point. Foreshadowing where fellow post-punkers-turned-pop bands like the Cure and New Order would go in the near future, it can now be asserted as the most perfect mashup of arty post-punk dissonances and pop catchiness. Its closest contemporaries were probably similarly minded albums like the Sound's All Fall Down or Echo and the Bunnymen's Heaven Up Here (and this one makes the most sense because it was magnificently produced by Hugh Jones, who handles production duties on After the Snow just a year after his work with the Bunnymen).

But we're a bit ahead of ourselves.

Allow me to indulge the Bunnymen comparison for just a bit more...

It's fitting that Hugh Jones worked with Echo on Heaven Up Here —perhaps the darkest and artiest album of their catalogue— in the same year that Modern English made their first album; itself a strange and drugged out affair that was certainly more goth than anyone would have guessed if they were working backwards through the band's discography.

I mean, just have a look at the cover.

The music isn't excessively weird, it's just much more psychedelic and downright trippy than most people would imagine for what is essentially a new wave album. A single (which can now be appropriately viewed as somewhat of a proto-shoegaze tune) was released and promptly ignored. After the band released Mesh and Lace, they were dubbed competent Joy Division knockoffs and nothing more was thought of the issue.

A year or so later, in a turn of events nobody in the most astute of logic would have foreseen, they re-emerged with 'I Melt With You' and had a minor British hit.

Its accompanying album was a fantastic mish mash of uber-pop, lushly layered arrangements, reflective melancholy and a toned-down but still present experimental edge.

Seriously, as rock albums go, this one is as about as diverse as they come.

The albums starts off with the wonderful second single 'Someone's Calling' and its excellent opening simile: 'Turning round as if in flight.' That's a descriptive lyric for this album, as well. The whole thing has the feeling of changing direction, slowly and methodically, as to not miss anything in the process.

From there, the rest of side one presents the band at their boundary-pushing best. If you just hear the songs on the surface, there will be plenty to latch onto: hooky vocals, catchy riffs, a dynamite rhythm section. But if you really sit down with these songs, there are layers upon layers of things about them that will reward repeated diligent listens. The best argument for that is that one-two punch of the stuttery and poignant 'Life in the Gladhouse' which is followed by the big epic and album spiritual centerpiece 'Face of Wood.' Sounding like the Cure before they even managed to get there, it's an absolutely beautiful song that finds a balance between the first album's artsy ambiance and the band's newly discovered sense of melody and songcraft.

(Check out an early run-through of the tune the band did for John Peel — definitely leaning more towards the artsy side here)

Side two kicks off with 'I Melt With You' and, I'll just say it right now: it's the poppiest thing on the album, by far. Anyone who bought After the Snow anticipating another seven or eight songs like 'I Melt With You' got ripped off, plain and simple.

It's funny that they chose to start side two off with the most accessible thing on the album because the rest of the songs are much more subdued and meditative. The title track and 'Carry Me Down' seem to mirror the initial sentiment of change that started with 'Someone's Calling.' Even the more paranoid and darker 'Tables Turning' that closes the album retains a specific vibe started by the title track. It's amazing how much ground this album covers in just eight songs and that it does that so convincingly is even more impressive.

It took about a year for the album to be picked up for North American release on the Sire label. It was the band's first American release. Here's the original vinyl issue on Sire/4AD:


And the back cover, which some otherwise loving previous collector neglected in the bottom left corner (which is strange because my copy of the band's follow-up Ricochet Days has a similar tear in the same spot, but on the front cover; must've been a spill that wasn't discovered right away):


The front of the inner sleeve:

The back of the inner sleeve:

And the labels:

When the album was reissued on CD by 4AD in the early 90's, they changed the cover:
But the great thing about the reissue is the bonus tracks that were added. Despite somewhat superfluous single edits of 'I Melt With You' and 'Someone's Calling', the rest of the bonus tracks are great and well worthwhile. Besides the longer (and superior) version of 'Life in the Gladhouse,' you get the two b-sides from the After the Snow sessions: the amazing should've been a-side 'The Prize' and the atmospheric eleven minute epic 'The Choicest View' which is just about as weird and willfully inaccessible as the band ever got.

It was a grassroots hit in the US until 'I Melt With You' was included on the soundtrack for Valley Girl. At which point, the popularity became too much for the young band and they inevitably pulled in different directions.

The follow-up to After the Snow was the also not to be missed, but not quite as great Ricochet Days (which may receive its own highlight in this column at some point in the future). The album had nothing as distinguishable and uniquely appealing as 'I Melt With You' and subsequent albums found frontman Robbie Grey trying to carry on the band himself and recapture the popularity that 'I Melt With You' brought him earlier on. He never was able to.

After the Snow is one of the best albums in the entire post-punk cannon. Easily one of my favorite albums ever, I still get a little annoyed when I bring up Modern English and all most people know is 'I Melt With You.'

Any self-respecting new wave fan should know this album front to back.

It should go without saying that it gets the seal of approval:


~Austin

Sunset over Peavine.

The haze in the high desert air created a nice ambiance for this evening's sunset. Here's a shot from up the street about a half block [WHERE I WENT TO GET AWAY FROM IT ALL]:


And here's the artsy, post-modern, urban chaos revision of the same shot:Hot as all heck today though. Not sure of the official recorded high temp, but it felt like one of the hottest days of the year to me.

~Austin

PS IT WAS 101 DEGREES FAHRENHEIT THAT DAY AT LEAST THE HOTTEST DAY THAT MONTH