Sonic Pants

Got to sit down and listen to the new Sonic Youth tonight. I've only had one full listen through, but I already know it's my favorite album of theirs since "Washing Machine". I wonder how objective I can be right now though since it seems like ages since I've picked up something new. Around 11:00, I ran out to pick it up during my lunch hour and couldn't wait to get back home and listen to it.

Along Cleveland Avenue there has been a pair of jeans on the shoulder of the road for the past few days. Today, on my way back from record shopping, I saw a guy walking along the road stop and pick them up. He clenched his cigarette between his lips and held the heavy wet denim out in front of him as if trying to decide if they'd fit. After just a moment, he stuffed his hands into the pockets, and after finding nothing, dropped them back on the paved shoulder. I don't understand how there always seems to be assorted clothing along roadways. All over the city it seems there's random button down shirts in gutters, single shoes collecting water in highway medians, and socks strung out in the grass beside stop signs. Who are you people and why are you leaving your clothes all over my town?

It makes you wonder how bad things are though if you're going to go digging in the pockets of soaking wet street jeans.

Bike Gang Bitches

I have this program on my blog that notes when someone visits it. It also tells me where the person is from, and how long they were on my site. It's always been cool to me when someone stumbles across my little page and decides it's interesting enough to check out, even if for just a few minutes. Let's be honest, most of the shit here isn't interesting in the least if you don't know me…and even that's a stretch. Most of it's a bit boring.

So, you can imagine how cool I think it is that I now have a regular West Coast reader. Whoever you are, Mr/Mrs California, it's nice to have you along. You can stand proud with my Ohio, Indiana (thanks to Facebook), random Canadian, and steady Minnesota readers.

The other funny thing is that this service I use also tells me if the person came from a search engine, and if they did, what they searched to find me. In addition to band names that I've used (Dead Confederate, Miniature Tigers, etc) and the thing I wrote about the recent death of Lux Interior, the biggest referral to my site has been Google searches for, and I quote, "Bike Gang Bitches".

At what point in your life do you ever sit down and say, "I need more information about Bike Gang Bitches. Where should I look?" I did my own Google search for Bike Gang Bitches, and while I won't go into detail, I will say that I'll never be the same. I can only imagine people's disappointment when they come to my site expecting to be blown away by the massive volume of Bike Gang Bitches material, only to find a blog about me listening to records and washing my dogs.

After seeing some of the other sites out there, I'm disappointed with myself.

So, if you're reading this, and you're not ashamed to be known, drop me a comment to let me know you're around. I'll try to accommodate any reading preference you might have, even if that means including more info on angry half naked women on motorcycles. It'll be tough on me, but I'm here to serve.

Sub Pop Saves the Day

A month or so ago, I ordered a couple of 7" singles from Sub Pop. A week later an over sized package arrived from them, with a full release of The Postal Service's Give Up along with a single for a band I had never heard of called Wooden Shjps. While I was happy to get the Postal Service record (something I was going to order anyway) and I was digging on the new Wooden Shjps disc, I had no complaints, but I still really wanted what I ordered to begin with. So, I emailed Sub Pop using the Customer Service address on the website:

1/17

Hi, I got my records in the mail today, but it wasn't what I ordered. I had ordered a Band of Horses 7" and Postal Service 7" and instead got "Give Up" and a Wooden Shjps 7". Not that I'm unhappy with what was sent, it just wasn't what I had ordered.

So, in order to get what I originally sent over in order 28140 do I need to ship back the two records you sent? I'm not trying to take advantage of the situation, just want to know how to make it right.

Hugs and Kisses,

Stephen Merryman

In response, all I received was silence. So, I broke down and reordered the records I had wanted originally. I received them, and was a happy man. I spent a little more than I had planned on, but got some cool stuff in return. Then, out of the darkness:

3/5

Stephen!

I just found this over a month old email from you in my junk mail. Sorry about that! Anyway, that’s a huge bummer. I’ll send you the correct records. You’ll see them soon. Please listen to the incorrect records if you haven’t already. They are yours as a token of a colossal mistake on our part.

Thanks,Sam


Since I had the records they had missed the first round, I didn't want to get them again. So, I responded:

Hi,

Since I knew you're all fundamentally sound folks, I decided I could wait no longer and submitted a second order for the records I had ordered the first round, so you don't have to resend them. Shit happens. It's fine. If you'd rather, you're welcome to send me a single or two of whatever you think is interesting to replace it (seriously...I'm open to suggestions), or if you send nothing, we'll still part friends. I can't help it...I'm your doormat.

Love,

Stephen

Yesterday, I opened the mail to find three new records waiting for me, and they are amazing. I received limited edition colored vinyl singles for Mark Sultan (a guy I had never heard of before, but who's amazing, and No Age (which may turn out to be my new favorite band). The third was a record I already have, but I'm sure I'll get to pass it along to someone in need sooner or later.

On the invoice, Sam had quickly written "Enjoy the records. XOXO".

Never have I felt so completely loved by a company. It helps that I love so much of the music that they've released over the years (Fleet Foxes, Band of Horses, Low, Mudhoney, The Postal Service, Nirvana, etc.) but now I'm totally endeared to them as well. Great music and hugs and kisses? What more could a fella ask for?

Computer Disasters, Vinyl Love & New Year's Eve

Let's be honest, I don't know what the fuck I'm doing. I have what I think of as a small computer virus issue one day, and then the next I can't log into my computer at all. I just get this black screen and can't even see my desktop.

So, I figure, let's just get a new hard drive. I've swapped those out before, so it shouldn't be too hard. So, I upgrade to a bigger hard drive, and come home to find out that the bigger drive uses a bigger cable to connect to my motherboard, but my motherboard doesn't have any more room to accommodate the expansion. So, now I have to go back to the store to get a smaller hard drive. I'm sure that I'll bring it home, hook it up and it still won't work, but whatever. At that point I'll have all the ammunition I need to talk Jen into a small ultra-cheap laptop. We don't need anything fancy...just something I can write on, surf the web, and run iTunes through. All of my music is on an external drive, so I don't even need much memory. One of these days I'll break down and get the iBook I really want, but not during these bleak economic times.

Tonight we make our annual New Year's Eve pilgrimage to my brother's house. We'll load up the car with my over sized bottle of Jack Daniels, Jen's amaretto, our meat and cheese tray, our two other appetizers and spend the night hanging out with family. It's always a pretty decent time, if not rather sedate. Nothing gets out of hand, and everyone is friendly (they are family after all).

I don't want to beat this to death, but I have to mention my new turntable again. I love music. Love it. It's very important to me, and I can be a little obnoxious about it. In recent years though I've gotten pretty distracted by lots of other things. Life happens and rolls along whether you are paying attention or not, and during all of this music became something that was there in the background. Not that my interest in it diminished, it just changed. It was on while I surfed the web, or played games, or did dishes, or drove to work.

Now though, having the turntable slowed that down. I set up a system in my den (a spare bedroom that I've taken over with all my silly crap...I should post pictures one day). I have a padded rocking chair that I drag back and forth across the room from my Super Nintendo (Zelda still rules) and my new "listening station".

Already I'm obsessive with vinyl collecting. A friend and I once discussed just collecting our top 25 albums and then stopping, but even then I knew that wouldn't happen. Jen bought be a great little cabinet for storage and to set my turntable on, and now I want to fill it immediately. Don't worry, it's expandable...she knows me well.

The night before last we hit up Magnolia Thunderpussy and I picked up a four disc re-release of Sonic Youth's Goo and a Fugazi single for "Furniture". When we got home I couldn't wait to settle in and listen. I wound up getting distracted by The Velvet Underground and Nico (something I had picked up the week before and had not listened to yet) so I put that on first. Then, I listened to the old Fugazi single. There's something so warm and immediate about the sound of vinyl, and I love that, but not being an audiophile it's just a bonus. The really great thing was sitting down in a darkened room and just listening.

It reminded me of sitting around on cigarette burned carpet in Houston, listening to Big Star. It reminded me playing bass along with Pearl Jam in my dorm room. It reminded me of waiting for over an hour in a grocery store parking lot waiting to hear Radiohead's "Creep" be played by an Indianapolis station and being blown away, even through the occasional static. It reminded me of listening to Nirvana play their version of The Meat Puppet's "Oh Me" over and over again, just to hear the guitar outtro.

So that's my suggestion for both of you still reading this damned thing. Grab your iPod, or turn up your surround sound and turn everything else off. Close your eyes and remember what made you fall in love in the first place.

Happy New Year, ya'll.