If you spend any signficant time listening to 80s music compilations (or whatever form of radio you happen to use), you will eventually hear After the Fire's "Der Kommissar". This English language version of Falco's German original was a top 10 hit in the United States and, to many American listeners, the accomplishment of this one hit wonder. Had I not come across the ATF album at one of the half dozen record shows my dad, brother, and I attended in my teenage years, that would have been me. But, the random find of that former library loaner was quite signficant to my view of the musical world. The ATF album is a compilation of material previously recorded by this British band and packaged into an American release to feed off the success of "Der Kommissar". My younger self didn't know this. My lack of context did not, however, effect my pure attraction to the collection of new wave music contained on the LP. From one song to the next, a listener is treated to original, impassioned, and consistently strong performances that demonstrate the beauty of the new wave movement in the evolution of rock music. "Laser Love" leads the album with some seriously dated sounding synthesizers and goofy-ish lyrics, but it's catchy pop music. Those sythesizers are used to better effect throughout the rest of the tracks and compliment excellent rock instrumentation and an even more impressive use of background harmonizing. "Dancing in the Shadows" begins as soft verse contrasted with the sharp jabs of a multi-voice chorus, ultimately building to general excitement. "Sometimes" is pure energy that slows down just enough at the end to highlight the repeating sentiment of the song, "...when you say you love me there's nothing I can say, times like that I think you just blow my life away". "Carry Me Home" is longing, synthesized. And, "Starflight" is a journey through space (yes, space) with high pitched tones and exhilarating lead and backing vocals. This is an LP I have listened to sporadically for my entire adult life. It almost always garners a full listening; very rarely cherry-picking individual songs. I am comfortable sayings ATF is one of my absolute favorite LPs. But, it was relegated to occassional listening due to format. I wanted a CD. In 2001 (unbeknownst to me), Collectibles released the album as Der Kommissar on CD. Finding it more than a decade later, I was excited. This disc contains the track list from the American release with a couple additional pieces (a dub version of "Der Kommissar" and a high energy instrumental called "Joy"). From an After the Fire perspective, all should be great in my little corner of the world. Well... almost. Unfortunately, the Collectibles release replaces 3 of the original version of songs with inferior re-recordings. So, "One Rule For You", "Dancing in the Shadows" (replacing some of the synthesizers with horns!?!), and "Starflight" are different. I'm happy to have easier access to ATF, but I guess I still need to hold onto my (two) copies of the LP. Technically, I have reviewed the CD version that you can still buy new. Add half a star for the original LP version.

I'm not sure how most people listen to albums in their collection (do people still listen to albums?). For me, I've always had a "go to" rotation - those albums that just seem to get grabbed when I walk up to my cd rack, looking for an unknown something. Through the years, the "rotation" has changed and morphed to reflect who I was (music newbie teen, depressed student, falling in love, etc) and what music had touched my life recently. The current list - the result of a 30 something with changing and uncertain paths before him - is a bit mellower and indicative of the searching nature of my life (find something unique, dear boy). All of the music I've heard by the Ass Ponys is on it and Lohio is my favorite. I guess you would call the Ass Ponys a country-rock band. They don't fit the mold of most 90s alternative rock in that it is conceivable that Chuck Cleaver could include a passing mention of mold in a song about a disjointed summer romance. (Bad pun) And, when he vocalized such a song, you could bet that it would be passionate, oddly sung, visually vivid, and have a chance to be the perfect composition for one of your 1440 minutes in any given day. Lohio is part of the Ass Ponys' return from the realm of major label land (not a bad realm for this band, by any stretch, from a musical perspective). The album leads with a wonderfully juxtaposed concoction that pairs a gentle, acoustic "Last night it snowed..." opening with a striking, electric conclusion. Then, the snapshot-of-an-evening "Kung Fu Reference" displays the mastery that Cleaver has of pairing together a passing night at home observation with one's philosophy of life. And, when you're singing "if you ever gave a damn for Sonny Jim, I'm sure you must remember him" (in your head, or out loud) and don't know anything about what it means (not being a Kung Fu aficionado), you start to realize how good they are. "Donald Sutherland" starts with a suicide/murder scenario. "Black Dot" is a fun, feels-like-I'm-part-of-some-gathering romp with a dog in the background (I always hear the dog). "Calendar Days" feels like a major hit in an alternate universe where stars have fiddles and a questioning lament of "do I still exist in the bottomless pit of your heart?" evokes tearful emotion. And, life's little details, a beautiful guitar, and a realization that we can't always be what we want create a masterpiece in "Nothing Starts Today" - further enhanced by the inclusion of "cybergirls" and "pissing at the moon." As I thought about writing this review, I kept thinking about the Ass Ponys as the "sound of Southwestern Ohio." But, that makes them sound too grand and exalted. So, let's try something like: the humor, phrasing, words, and vision put forth by the Ass Ponys make me feel at home. And, the quirkiness, fascinating instrumentation, and unique singing make for a heck of a listening experience. An easy recommendation, I can't see Lohio slipping off my "go to" list anytime soon.

I once read an album or band described as "post alternative." For me, that phrase conjures images of space suits and weird digital soundscapes. Something to which you might listen and feel smug and inflated, experiencing something that others aren't. From the moment I listen to ANY Brainiac, I get this sensation. From Smack Bunny Baby to Hissing Prigs in Static Couture (and probably Bonsai Superstar, in the chronological middle, the most), Brainiac creates something remarkable. But, if you walked in haphazardly, it might be too, um, remarkable. Electro-shock for President is the Brainiac for the uninitiated. Definitely a product of the end of their short career, Electro-shock is 14 minutes of Brainiac perfection. "Fresh New Eyes" is an abrasive working of strengths: bizarre lyrics, unorthodox instrumentation, and those odd soundscapes and feedback. It's hard to describe the transition from its sparse beginning to the incision it makes in you over the course of two minutes. Following is what I might call a typical "album track." "Flash Ram" is a song, in the traditional sense. It has a chorus and builds from oddly textured vocals and real emotion. But, to me, it's glue. It's what Tim Taylor and company performed to create an album. These two songs then give way to three tracks of soundscapes. But, where others may say these become some sort of filler, I believe them to be an essential part of the whole experience. They're full of entertaining noises, half-vocals, obscured background talking, and music. This is where you start to feel smug. Yes, you are special for having found this. Then, you're hit with the "the single." Brainiac ended their first album with a piece ("Get Away") that just owns you with its distinction. This does the same, in the "mature" Brainiac fashion. "Mr. Fingers" is as impassioned and hard edged as Brainiac gets, and the thump of the bass line during the final minute separates it from "ordinary" music. Rattle the walls with "Mr. Fingers." Scare someone. Of course, I have been teasing with images of grandeur and intellectual superiority. Brainiac is an aggressive, loud, and supremely inventive band. And, Electro-shock for President is a wonderful example of the mood they were capable of creating. But, listening to this Dayton band is not like listening to some great piece of jazz or classical music; the musical intelligentsia probably wouldn't be too impressed. I would be. But, they probably wouldn't.

One of those bands that you've never heard (or heard of) that has a really cool sound to go with their cool name, Carter the Unstoppable Sex Machine is more than worth a bit of exploration. But, where do you start with this 90s British "alternative" band? It might be easiest to suggest the greatest hits package Straw Donkeys: The Singles, but I see no reason to take the easy route. Go with a proper album. And, despite my very great appreciation for 1994's Post Historic Monsters, I'd start near the beginning... 30 Something is Carter USM's second album and, possibly, one of it's most intense efforts. Having said that, I won't pretend that I have internalized each song with the meaning their authors intended. But, who cares? The album rolls out the gate with a sound clip ("big fat bastard" at 25?) followed by a pulsing, loud instrumental. Then, the listener is treated to a reading of My Second to Last Will and Testament, a humorous exploration of a "rough draft" accompanied by a driving beat. And, we're not released from either the song-craft or the "noise-intense" instrumentation for most of the rest of the album. Try not to turn the volume up for the last minute of Prince In A Pauper's Grave. I dare you. No reason to turn it down for Shopper's Paradise (do you think the band revels in materialism?). Next, Billy's Smart Circus has so many sound "layers" that you can't help but feel as if a blanket has been pulled over your head while the screamed lyrics at the end are absorbed by your happy brain... And, following all this loud and wonderful "dance pop," this album has my favorite ending of all the Carter albums (and that's saying something - this group knows how to finish albums). The two song finale (Falling On A Bruise and The Final Comedown) changes the effect entirely. Somber, with a sad tone, I always leave this album feeling as if I've had an experience... It's a victory worth sharing we should celebrate I think with the bloodiest of Mary's but I'm too fucked to drink If I step back to consider, I just maybe might have to admit that Carter the Unstoppable Sex Machine won't appeal to everyone. I guess if they had, you would have heard of them. And, thinking back to my earliest listenings of this album, in particular, I'm not sure I liked it that much. A couple songs can't help but catch your attention, but is it too much... um... sound? I will stand here a decade later and say it is definitely something special.

Some music, though not world changing, is simply an important part of one's music lifetime. This is definitely not a new concept, but it is something interesting to consider from time to time. I bought Hallelujah Anyway at a Coconuts in a shopping center on Brookpark Road in Cleveland at some point in the early 90s. Sitting in a bargain bin, this particular album by the Dancing Hoods got my attention with a sticker that said something along the lines of "the first picture disc made in America." I believe it was in one of those long cardboard boxes in which CDs were originally sold, and it allowed me to admire the image of the tiger on the disc. How could I pass it up? For the last 20 years, I assumed the Dancing Hoods were an obscurity. At the same time, Hallelujah Anyway never slipped out of my view and has had a lot more plays than many of its peers bought at that time. Lead singer Bob Bortnick seemed like a quintessential rock singer, and the playing of Mark Linkous, Don Short, and Mike Gracino seemed to demonstrate the culmination of a lifetime of becoming a rock band... the highest point for a group of nobodies playing music. Opening the album, "Torn Away" is an observation of defiance paired with a little 80s sounding alternative rock. "Baby's Got Rockets" slows it down slightly, while upping the feeling of significance. Despite not knowing exactly what the lyrics mean, there's definitely deeper meaning here: (my interpretation of the chorus)

I'm going to count to ten. And then I open my eyes. I don't want to see anything. I'm going to count to ten. Baby's got rockets on again. Just like the movies. Baby's got rockets on again. And, I'm losing sleep.

Damn. That sure does seem like something, and more often than not I find myself singing along with Bortnick. Following this, "Better Look Up" and "Puppet Dancing" go for some harder rock sounds, including a dark electric guitar beginning on the latter. Then, "Welfare Shoes" tosses a little country-tinged fun into the mix; upbeat and lighter. A variety of genres and sub-genres in one sitting. The final track ("Wish I Could Tell You") pulls it back to that 80s alt rock sound with which the band seems most comfortable. Emotionally sung with lamenting lyrics, the song is a good fit to awkward teenage emotions. Amidst the various original tracks (mostly by Bortnick and Linkous), the Dancing Hoods toss a couple covers into the mix. Leonard Cohen's "Diamonds In The Mine" is played quick and loose, with a lot less anger than Cohen's version. And, the Dancing Hoods do no harm to John Prine's "Angel From Montgomery", with a nice mix of electric and country/folk tones. This piece stood out to me even as an ignorant child. As is often the case, I developed a favorite amongst the tracks of this album. Played acoustically with somber vocals and harmonies, "Falling Down" seems desperate ("everything is falling down...."). Outside of the album context, this is a song I included on mix tapes. Bortnick convinced me that he knew something, and I treated these lyrics as some sort of intelligent glimpse into the world around me. It's this piece that continues to be cathartic for me from time to time, which in turn inspires me to play this album... on a random weeknight... or a random car ride. In doing a little digging for this review, it turns out that the Dancing Hoods weren't quite as obscure as I believed. Their first album, 12 Jealous Roses was met with some degree of critical acclaim!?! Apparently, Hallelujah Anyway was a bit of a letdown, with the group disbanding shortly after. Still, "Baby's Got Rockets" got some play on college radio and MTV's 120 Minutes. The Dancing Hoods got close to making it "big." Additionally, Mark Linkous actually had a second act in forming the band Sparklehorse. So, after all these years, my little "unknown" turns out not to be. I think that actually makes me happier, knowing others may have experienced what these songs have to share. It also turns out that I have some more music to find.

The significance of Hüsker Dü in the rock/alternative world is beyond the scope of this review. I've spent my entire music listening life in the wake of their existence, and everything I've heard since I was about 16 years old was heard through Hüsker-tinted ears. For two months in the early 90s, Zen Arcade never left my cd player and my world view changed forever. To me, Hüsker Dü is the gold standard... without exaggeration and without exception. Flip Your Wig follows two of the albums commonly cited as essential alternative/rock albums by many critics (Zen Arcade and New Day Rising). Depending on the critic, Flip Your Wig is a marginal step down in terms of significance or a continuation of the monumental work of the previous year. Regardless, this is a captivating collection of post-punk, pop music. The opening track "Flip Your Wig" is a sharing of vocals between Bob Mould and Grant Hart that, when combined with the energy created instrumentally, creates the best start to any Hüsker album (obviously a personal opinion). Following is a steady stream of pop music that grabs a listener more wholly on each subsequent listen. Choruses are absorbed without thinking and anticipation for the next song opening become ingrained. Look forward to "Makes No Sense at All," "Divide and Conquer," "Private Plane," and "Keep Hanging On." But, by no means should you skip tracks to get there. If you do, you'll miss "Hate Paper Doll," "Green Eyes," and another handful of gems. Flip Your Wig was the last Hüsker Dü album I heard (minus live recordings). Because of that it has always held an awkward, uncertain position in my mind. This is the Hüsker Dü that I like best: songs with traditional song structure written by timeless songwriters. Additionally, "Flip Your Wig" and "Keep Hanging On" are two of my absolute favorite compositions by these guys. When asked recently what my favorite Hüsker Dü album was, I may have inadvertently lied and said it was this one. Or, maybe I didn't.

In the mid-90s Kelley Deal of the Breeders had two releases leading the Kelley Deal 6000. Following the pattern of post-Last Splash Breeder's work (including Kim Deal's Amps), Go to the Sugar Altar, is full of wonderful, loud pop-songs mixed in with experimental noise pieces. The first three songs on the album ("Canyon," "How About Hero," and "Dammit") fall under the first category - all A-list material. "Dammit" is a great is a great grundge song beginning quiet and ending with some quality raw emotion. The rest of Go to the Sugar Altar is pretty much all over the place, but no throwaways. Highlights include "Head of the Cult" (which seems to be about some 6000 society) and "Trixie Delicious," with creepy background vocals by the Frog's Jimmy Flemion. You may not think about the Kelley Deal 6000 much anymore, but Go to the Sugar Alter definitely deserves a listen every now and then. Though not quite up there with the Breeder's work, Deal creates a work that is both edgy and silly without feeling dated.

I discovered this album from two directions. The 1995 Richard Linklater film Before Sunrise featured the song "Living Life" during its closing credits. For someone who truly connects with the romance of that film, the lyrics and mood created by that song offer a few moments of catharsis after the intense uncertainty at the film's end. I bought the song on iTunes and lived with it from time to time for a number of years. Then, in reading a profile of Daniel Johnston, a reference was made to artists who had covered his work. Kathy McCarty's interpretation Dead Dog's Eyeball: Songs of Daniel Johnston was praised. I was already interested in eventually finding some Daniel Johnston material. Maybe it would be interesting to explore an "interpretation" first? I had to hear it. It has been worth it. From this album, one might say that Daniel Johnston songs are interesting, to say the least. I would go so far as to say many seem a little "off" on first listen. Johnston does that himself sometimes by use of odd lyrics ("walking the cow") or even drawing the word "monkey" into his songs. But, that's an initial impression. On further listens, this collection of songs varies from truly touching and emotional pieces ("Hey Joe", "Golly Gee, or "Going Down", one of my personal favorites) to near "rockers" ("Wild West Virginia") that compliment the unique vision of their writer. And, I would feel remiss to neglect mentioning the depression or sadness that is pervasive throughout. Though, interestingly, that's not the overriding sensation with which I leave this album. Maybe I'm immune? "Hate Song" is a little too close to perfect as that note you wish you wrote... that one time. Kathy McCarty has created an excellent album. I keep wondering if this is a sort of greatest hits of Johnston's music or more simply a collection of her favorites. One way or the other, it doesn't matter. The instrumentation and vocals seem just right and the singer has captured the sentiments and meanings as her own. Without the reference to Johnston in the title, I would have thought McCarty a bit cooky and very impressive. Even knowing the words aren't her own, I still have the same sense. Probably should check out some Glass Eye... ...and original Daniel Johnston material. Dead Dog's Eyeball is a great find and a great album.

It's funny how a little time can change things. In the early 90s, I purchased an LP at a record show by some random band. (It was in stellar condition!) Big Blue Sky by the Northern Pikes was, at that age, something I found funny. It seemed to me that there was too much rhyming and a general sense of goofiness. I bet I'd like it now, but at that time... Then, at some point in the late 90s, I said to several people that a Northern Pikes album was one of the best finds in music I'd had in years. And, this was at a stage where listening to music was serious; music shaped my life as it probably never can again. Snow in June is the 3rd album by this Canadian band. The album is rock and roll, and the writing, production, and performance is executed with a sophistication that constantly surprises. You go in thinking songs with titles like "Love These Hands" or "Kiss Me You Fool" will be fluff, but the cottony, tame stuff is nowhere to be found. "Love These Hands" is an attractive song of commitment and caring with driving instrumentation and a cool fade out. "Kiss Me You Fool" changes up the musical feel (something more "acoustic" sounding, maybe) but the observation of a relationship is again satisfying and mature. Then, following an uptempo bit of fun ("She Ain't Pretty," with the nicely juxtaposed follow-up "she just looks that way") are two deeper pieces that can seem monumental, if you're so inclined to such things. I was 15 years ago, and the sense of awe that I had for these two songs lingers on. "Tomorrow Never Comes" is a lament or, maybe, a warning about addiction and abuse with an almost etherial collection of vocals, guitar, and percussion. "Shadow of Doubt" is a heavier stab at the ugliness of humanity delivered by vocals varying from low rumbles to near excitement. Well done. The final feather in Snow in June's hat is the final impression it leaves. "Snow in June" is an epic musical experience with 3 stages. Beginning with a parting shot to the singing and instrumentation that you've experienced over the past 50 minutes, it transitions (with a wake up alarm, literally) to a slightly more pounding and impassioned serenade. Finally, with obvious separation, the listener is transported to an arena with 80s-style hard rock guitars as the grand send off. That's what you get with this album: a steady flow of interesting and varied pleasures. In many ways it probably works better for a mellowed (read: older) listener. Or, maybe it just sounds that way in 2012 to a mellowed listener (like me). As I did a little background research on the Northern Pikes, I found out that they actually experienced commercial success far greater than I ever realized. According to allmusic.com, three songs on this album even charted (Canada?). Oh well. In my mind, Snow in June is still an amazing album and an amazing find by a band that I nearly dismissed several years earlier. I am so very glad I didn't.

In the early 90s, the Dayton Daily News included local music reviews in it's Friday "Go" insert. For this impressionable music neophyte, these short takes and the accompanying ratings were just enough to catapult a handful of albums into "must find" status. Over the years, I did indeed find many of these and consider several to be among my most cherished music artifacts. I have the impression that one of those "Go" issues was referred to as a "Dayton Band Guide" (or something like that). Between this and a trip to Trader Vic's local music section, I acquired The Obvious' 1993 I Wanna Records release. From what I can gather (very spotty), The Obvious had been around for a number of years when Rock & Roll in the Big City was released. According to the CD insert, the band's mailing address was Dayton, but the album itself was recorded in Kansas City, Kansas. Over the course of ten songs, John Dubuc (lead singer, guitar, and lyricist) crafts a series of songs about life in a (small time) band, the world of local music, and a few miscellaneous tidbits. Gregg Johnson (Bass) and Tommy Gun (drums) provide the backbone of a competent rock & roll band. And, a Southwestern Ohio vibe is an undercurrent this local can't help but enjoy. "Two Thumbs Down" leads off the album with a lament about the aftermath of a bad review. This distinctive rocker showcases the wit and energy of the album and was released as a single with "Dollar Bill" (drugs?) on the flip side (one of my few 45s). "The Underground", "Who Says?", and "Stage Fright" continue the day in the life of a music act narrative. "Hall Of Fame" wonders why Pete Rose isn't in the baseball hall of fame (yeah, why not?). "(Get Lost) Jack Frost" is a goofy sendoff to winter. And, the title lyric for "Where Do You Fit In?" comes off the lips so easily; something that sunk into my musical soul many moons ago. Each track has a driving beat, energetic lyrics, and transitions into the next song with nary a thought to change the formula. This is local "rock," with a little less of the "alternative" to which I would later tend. I think the Dayton Daily News reviewer gave the album 3 (out of 5) stars. I have always been inclined to agree with that assessment. My gut told me that it wasn't a great album. But, in re-listening to these tracks for this review, I realized that this has spun in my CD player more times than I can even guess; I know and like these songs. Rock & Roll in the Big City is one of those treasured artifacts.