As of late, I've found myself spend more and more money I Don't Really Have on what might be called (by marketing wanks) “lifestyle accessories”. Not the usual ones (soap, Clif bars, Maker's Mark), but things like my beloved Man Purse, a new cell phone (with an infrared port, so's I can beam shit to and fro my Palm Pilot), and, today, a $50 wallet. Which I bought from a store that was playing “Ru Paul The Red-nosed Drag Queen”. You would think a guy who only owns one pair of long pants (which were purchased at the Flying J travel stop in Joplin, MO) would find better ways to spend his money.
Am I falling off an emotional cliff here, or what?
Records I bought this week:
–> Bedhead “WhatFunLifeWas” and Bill Hicks “Philosophy”: Bought as gifts for someone who needs to understand just exactly why Texas Is The Reason.
“WhatFunLifeWas” is still my favorite Bedhead album, and I've bought many copies for folk over the years. Forget the “slow core” tag they're often saddled with; half of this this is really fucking loud and beautiful, the other half is restrained and beautiful.
After much rumination, “Philosophy” is not recommended; for the ideal Hicks introduction, pick up both “Rant In E Minor” and “Arizona Bay”, rather than this somewhat direction-less collection. The latter two have an incredible flow to them that draws the listener in, and that's what makes Hicks so damned compelling.
–> The Pupils “s/t”: Dan and Asa from Lungfish playing what amounts to Lungfish without the other two fellows. Home-recorded, fascinatingly weird lyrics, great cyclic guitar playing.
–> X “Los Angeles”: Smack my ass if you must, but I had never heard this album (though I remember hearing “Johnny Hit And Run Paulene” in “The Decline of Western Civilization”) before picking it up this weekend. John and Exene singing together is one of the most desperately beautiful things I've heard in a long time. You know how fantastic this is.
–> Thelonious Monk “The Complete Prestige Recordings”: Only made it through disc one of this (so-far) ho-hum collection of Monk's post-Blue Note period. It has failed to impress thus far, but really only because of how important and invigorating his best-loved stuff truly is. Hopefully the last couple of discs (which includes a tense session with Miles Davis) will lift my spirits.