Sam Herlihy's (The Northwestern, ex-Hope Of The States) albums of the decade
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Who in the hell would want them to make another stadium rawk record after this? It would be like telling Oppenheimer to work harder on making dynamite after he invented the atom bomb. People who hate Kid A and love The Bends suck. People who like both are fine by me.
The first record was the only album with a singer i gave a damn about for a long while but I just like more of the songs on the underrated second. The Strokes were, for a while, just a whole lot cooler than me, or you. Lost the plot after this though, which sucked.
Token hiphop or electronica record from an "indideschmindieguitarandsorrow" band geek? No ladies and sirs! This record is still one of the most sonically and lyrically inventive things I've ever heard. It's a lurching monolithic concrete slab of a record which sounds like nothing else. Pigeons, pigeons, pigeons.
Because I have no urge to ever hear the whole thing again but it captured a sadness and a magic that makes every other loser post rawk record sound like a polished marble staircase in a commuter belt house: cheap, tacky, over done and cynical as all hell.
For Coast to Coast and Kings Crossing. Haunted death march panic. They both make me feel incredibly sad, scared and haunted. The tapes wheeze their way over the edge.....or maybe I just like a bit of rust and grit in his songs after Figure8, which also ruled but for different reasons.
It's a giant fuzzy mess which made me want to never write a piano dirge ever again. I also loved the fact that loads of people felt so "let down" by them. Whiney kids moaning about the mess and the lack of repetition of what they used to do makes me hoot like a jackdaw.
Three discs of genius, rubbish, and perfection. Every man should try to be more like Tom Waits. Every musician wishes they were like Tom Waits and if they don't, then they have no taste, intellect or talent. Tom Waits is a holy man and a funny funny old git.
It's got it's own addled mythology. An entire world of silly clothes, dark lahndaaan taahn wonder,books, romance, drugs, fucking and drinking which made British guitar music interesting for the first time in years.
Jeff Tweedy writes better words than nearly anyone. YHF has a really strange atmosphere to it. Even the "happy" sounding songs have a weird disconnect to them which sounds like nothing else. It's not all about the "JIM O'ROUKE INDIE ARTROCK GODFATHER" production, the songs are awesome, the documentary is funny as too.
When everything was too hectic/nervous/insane this record slowed everything down. It's incredibly difficult to do something so slow and minimal but still carry such an emotional weight. This record should be prescribed to people. It makes everything else sound far too fast and busy. Slow down or die.









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