Paul Stanley - People, let me get this off my chest

I've seen KISS 3 different times. Every time was fantastic, of course, but I'll bet 1/5 of the shows consisted of Paul spouting off the corniest shit you ever heard while the rest of the painted fogeys caught their breath. The thing is, it's a great ploy, and the things he says/sings/caterwauls are some of the most hysterical things you've heard in your life. Now I do recall some of the banter being the same from show to show, and of the 70 tracks, there's plenty I heard in person. No matter. What's important is that years after the shows, it's Paul yelling out "I BEEN TO YAKIMA!" that my friends and I recall the most fondly. That and his remark about some woman's bared boobs: "Ooh, you could store a lot of milk in those! I need some vitamin D!" And here some smartass lovingly combed through a bunch of live recordings and picked out some winners, then released it to the internet to the applause of all. Because this stuff is pure comedy gold. His intro to "Love gun" has him talking about how he's packing a pistol. His six-shooter of sex. His Uzi of ooze. His LOVE GUN! When delivered as only Paul can, it becomes apparent that he's some kind of comic genius, blessed at birth with the gift of perfect delivery. You're laughing at him. You're laughing with him. Only Steve Martin can get laughs with the arrow through the head gag, and only Paul can pull this stoopidness off. And boy, does he ever. You can find it for free on the infernets. Get it, you got nothin' to lose. (hee! I made a KISS joke!)

Supergrass - I should coco

Man, I played the shit out of this album for the first 2 years I had it. I've hardly listened to it since, but decided it deserved a dusting off and reevaluation. The verdict is "I still like this album lots and I can see why I played it so much". Basically, it's a 40 minute long PhD in hooks and lovely rambling bass lines. I hear the Jam in it. I hear the Kinks in it. I hear snotty kids writing snotty songs in it. But most of all, I hear good, fun, catchy music played well. "Caught by the fuzz" has a nice freaked out feel to it, appropriate to the subject matter. "Mansize rooster" rocks, and has a good title to boot. You've heard "Alright" in commercials for universal studios, but after the first verse it starts being about smoking cigarettes and getting laid, so it's forgiven. The twee delivery of a song about being scuzzy is perfect. "She's so loose" kinda doesn't make sense, but it's evidently about blowjobs and how slutty some woman is, so that's pretty good, and the music's good. Speaking of blowjobs, you probably noticed that I put a pic of the back up instead of the front. This is because I've long held a theory and secret hope that Danny Goffey, the one in the middle, is getting his knob slobbed by some 16 year old girl just below the frame, and is considering tipping his beer out over her head. The other 2 just don't want to look. I'm just going by the expression on his face, but I think it's a plausible theory. Anyway, if you feel like listening to something british, snide, uptempo and well-done, put this one on for a spin.

Sloan - Dante's, Portland, OR 9/27/08

Oh, yay. I've been wanting to see Sloan since the mid 90s sometime. I almost got to see them in 2000, except the show wasn't advertised until the day of, and I found out the day after. Boo! Anyhoo, 8 years later I got my chance and it was fucking worth it. These guys know how to rock. They took to the stage while the strains of "Love theme from KISS" played. I appreciated that. Mick Jagger's trademark maneuvers were aped in a loving, yet mocking way. Drummer Andrew Scott wore a T-shirt he made himself with a sharpie. They had the right attitude. A note about the venue: Dante's has shitty sound. I've heard worse, to be sure, but in a venue with a good sound system, this good show would have been incredible. So, I went hoping to remember the setlist, which totally didn't happen even a little bit. Fortunately, My friend Heather pestered singer/bassist (sometime drummer) Chris Murphy to pose for silly photos and someone tossed the setlist on our table. Here it is.

Losing California
All I am is all you're not
Witch's wand
Ready for you
Believe in me
Fading into obscurity
Emergency 911
Something's wrong
HFXNSHC
C'mon C'mon
Burn for it
Someone that I can be true with
Ill-placed trust
Take good care of the poor Boy
I'm not a kid anymore
The dogs
Down in the basement
People of the sky
Everything you've done wrong
Who tought you to live like that
Penpals
Money city maniacs

A fair amount of classics, but heavy on their last couple of albums, and certainly heavy on the rock side of their particular ouvre. I'd have liked to hear "snowsuit sound" and "she says what she means", which is a particularly rocking song with riffs a-roaring. Hey, they've got a new album to sell. I can forgive it. Especially since Chris Murphy invited us to hang out on their bus and drink their beer, which I'm still buzzed from. We ate bacon-maple bars (a voodoo doughnuts portland, OR speciality) and listened to the Who and the Faces. I'm pretty sure one of my friends (not Heather) is making out with Mr. Murphy as I write this. Can't wait to hear that story. Anyway, a sonically (fuck you Dante's) flawed but still wonderful show. The bus was gravy.

Also, the Tom Collins is a delicious drink, when prepared correctly. I discovered that tonight as well.

Gene - To see the lights

I hadn't planned on making this the 4th consecutive post with a black and white photo, but fuck it, I'm gonna review this Gene album anyway. To see the lights is almost a non-release, put out after their debut album "Olympian". This one is a collection of B sides, live versions, radio 1 sessions, and alternate takes, and is sometimes credited as being Gene's "Hatful of hollow". I don't know how I feel about that comparison, simply because Gene spent their entire career being compared to the Smiths. While singer Martin Rossiter has a croony edge to his voice much like Moz, as well as a healthy dose of lyrical snark, Gene stand on their own. Guitarist Steve Mason channels a lot less Johnny Marr than he does Steve Cropper in his playing. And what playing it is! The album opens up with "Be my light, be my guide", a brit-rock guitar fiasco of the finest kind. It moves on to "Sick, sober and sorry", again chock-full of tasty guitar bits and praise for drinking and smoking too. The album slows a bit after this and some ballady stuff comes out, which isn't really my cup of tea, but is pretty well done for ballady stuff, so I'll forgive it. Other highlights are "For the dead", "Haunted by you", and "How much for love", a tale of a young man being scandalized by an aggressive hussy. "Child's body", a song about anorexia, manages not to be too sappy lyrically, and the guitar playing just fucking rules. "I can't help myself" is totally cheesy, but does such a good job of being corny in just the right places that you end up liking it a lot anyway. The cover they do of the Beatles' "Don't let me down" is pretty blah, but between the bridge and chorus, Rossiter makes the strangest puking sound and improves things a lot. There are a few tracks I generally skip, but I'd hesitate in calling those sub-par in an album like this, since it's pretty much odds and ends thrown together for the fans to enjoy anyway. If I could take one Gene album to the proverbial desert Island with me, this would be the one. A good solid B for Gene.