Pitchfork Reviews 5/20/08

Mudhoney
Superfuzz Bigmuff Deluxe Edition
The Lucky Ones
[Sub Pop; 2008]

Pitchfork gave them a 9.1 and a 7.2.

You know what's weird? Guilty displeasures. Mudhoney has always been a guilty displeasure of mine. I can say honestly that I prefer Mudhoney to Mother Love Bone though, and as I understand things, that's the only test I'm supposed to pass. Yeah. You know what? I don't feel guilty about it. I don't like Mudhoney. Never have. I like the idea of Mudhoney, and if an 8 year old me had somehow heard "Touch Me I'm Sick" before hearing "Welcome to the Jungle," my nascent ideas about what it means to rock the fuck out might have grown to take a very different shape.

But 8 year old me was not wrong to be blown away by "Welcome to the Jungle." So maybe all is well.

Listening to Mudhoney now, I get the sense that I'm supposed to have a Rat Fink poster in my crappy Spielburg-esque teenager bedroom that's covered in dirty gym socks, and I'm supposed to be asleep floating in the pool wearing just jeans and sunglasses when the annoying comic relief neighborhood kid wakes me up and I have to race to school as the title sequence plays and the movie starts. In other words, they're the most offensive-to-parents "I hate high school and maybe I'm also a werewolf" rawknoise anybody could come up with in the late 80's. Which is great. And it's great that they just kept doing the same thing forever. They're like a late-80's version of The Ramones that way. But as far as I'm concerned, the fun is more from opening an evocative time capsule than actually listening to something. I'm sorry, wish it wasn't true, but that's pretty much where I stand.


Islands
Arm's Way
[Anti-; 2008]

Pitchfork gave it a 6.2.

Remember when Montreal was the home of every big "it" band? Like Arcade Fire and Wolf Parade and The Stills and these guys and a bunch more? Ever watch Much Music? We had it in an apartment I lived in in college. Tons of Sloan and Kardinal Offishall videos. It was crappy but kind of cute, and it taught me a valuable lesson that I will take with my to my dying day: when a bunch of Canadians are telling you how to rock, it's a dead giveaway that something very bad is happening.


Thank You
Terrible Two
[Thrill Jockey; 2008]

Pitchfork gave it a 7.7.

I once lived on a cruise ship for 4 months.

The short version of the story is: I got a job on a cruise ship and I took it, and then I lived on a cruise ship for 4 months.

By the time I got off, I was starving for anything that ran counter to the accepted, materialistic, take-it-easy you're on vacation "Hot Hot Hot" monoculture they subject you to from built-in speakers hidden in every crevice of the whole demonic resource-suck of a vessel. I would have wept for joy if somebody had taken me to a Thank You show. They're "experimental" tribalskronk rockers from Baltimore in the repetitive hypno-groove vein. FYI.

Now, though, I don't know. I've been doing a pretty good job of not forcing myself to do the limbo for the last 4 months. Not sure I need to be blasted out of my own psyche by something like this. Not at the moment, no.


Silje Nes
Ames Room
[FatCat; 2008]

Pitchfork gave it a 7.2.

This is cute, soft, and pretty female vocalist stuff in the Bjork vein, and I'm in the middle of a big fight with my girlfriend so I fucking hate it. I also probably hate it when I'm not in the middle of a big fight with my girlfriend, but then I'd usually just turn it off instead of actually getting mad at it for existing.


Jaymay
Autumn Fallin'
[Blue Note; 2008]

Pitchfork gave it a 5.5.

I don't like this music. I would prefer not to ever have to listen to it again. If you're giving me a ride and you're in the mood to listen to this, I would rather walk. I'm serious. I won't even be mad. Just let me know "hey, I'm in a shitty mood and I don't want to give you a ride" and I'll just walk home. You don't even have to give me any notice. Just text me from home, "I went home," and that will be totally fine by me. As long as I'm not waiting for a ride that's not coming or worrying about where you are. If you're in a really shitty mood, you could even just tell your mom that you're home and that you're mad at me, and when you're running late enough and not answering your phone I'll be totally fine with talking to her and finding out that way that I need to start walking home. It doesn't matter how far away I am, either. I can get home. As long as I don't have to listen to this stuff. That's how much I hate this music. I can understand that you'd like it. It is cute and girly and maybe somehow vaguely empowering. Maybe you like it simply because you know I would hate it. Fine by me. And it's fine with me if you like it, but I don't. I hate it. Hearing it is the sonic equivalent of slapping me in the face and dumping my records all over the living room. I'm entitled to my opinion, and that is my opinion. You do not have to agree with it. I'm just being honest, here. And I don't think it's a lot to ask not to subject me to something I hate. If you hated something that much and you told me about how much you hated it, I would not subject you to it. I have done this numerous times. For example: I quit smoking, and that's fucking HARD.