I know, I know...where's the blogging?

Right, I get it.  I'm terrible at blogging.  I promise I'll get my shit together.  My excuses include that the ridiculous amount of snow and ice we've gotten where I live has driven me kooky and I've lost track of the things I enjoy.  Of course, that's not entirely true as my time on Call of Duty: Black Ops and Rock Band 3 has remained the same.  Besides, it's DOUBLE XP WEEKEND on BLOPS.  I know you don't care.  You don't need to.

At any rate, I have a new podcast going with the same title as this place.  Yep!  I used to run one not long ago called "Sniff the Tip."  After three years of grooving, I dismantled it.  Took about a year off, and once I got this thingy going, I thought it'd be good to being back the podcast as well.  Anyway, it's just a lovely bunch of tunes in each episode.  No talking or any of that nonsense to distract you.

So check out the podcast at Camel Ike a Rock E.T. Two episodes have gone up so far, with many more in the future. A show a week at least.

So enjoy, and we'll be getting back to our regularly scheduled shizz here as well. Danke

Hurry up and die already, CD!

It's only a matter of time.

With rare exception these days, I do not buy nor acquire music CDs anymore.  There's just no reason for me to do it, not when my beloved iPod took over the CD deck in my car long ago, as well as any shitty portable disc players I might have been carrying around.  I used to have a fabulous, huge collection of discs.  When I lived in Pittsburgh and had the house with the nice big basement in which they all fit, it was a cool site.  But when I moved out to Philly to an apartment and my bedroom closet was filled with nothing but boxes of those very CDs that were not doing anything but gathering dust, I decided to sell the whole lot to the Princeton Record Exchange.

I made a couple grand off the deal, which was fine.  And it was freeing, too.  For it had been a long time at that point where I had sat down and listened to CDs in their own format.  Basically, I would buy one or get one for review, automatically rip it to my external hard drive, and then shelve the damn thing.  So the space the discs were using was was ridiculous after a while.  I came to the conclusion that, for me at least, the digital format was certainly it and I no longer needed the hard copy.  I didn't need the plastic cases, or the little booklets.  I loved the music, not the packaging.

Bow down before the one you serve.

Now, I know a lot of folks who were of the vinyl generation (I was at the tail end of its popularity, growing up with it and then seeing it get killed off, along with the cassette shortly thereafter) really bemoan the loss of that format, for both the sound of the LP and the packaging.  I have to admit that LPs often packed a lot of cool shit in the way of extras like posters, gatefold sleeves and the like.  But my ears have never begged to go back to my own days of listening to ye olde turntable, and god knows I had enough of a vinyl collection as well, so it was no small happening in my life.

I like how the musical format has progressed.  It's just turned into thin air.  And because of this, I keep wondering when CDs as a musical format commodity will cease to exist.  Shouldn't they have died at least three years ago?  I suppose it's sort of like when broadband Internet service was first introduced and there were still tons of people using dialup connections.  It just took some time.  Now I'm curious to know what percentage of the population doesn't have some form of mp3 player, because I could probably tell you of one lonely soul that I personally know who still uses dialup to get online.

As I said at the beginning, there are rare exceptions for me regarding the purchase of CD.  The last exception was when The Beatles' catalog was finally reissued and remastered.  I wanted hard copies of those albums, along with all the packaging.  The next exception will certainly be for the Billy Joel remasters.  But the point is if CDs went away tomorrow, I wouldn't be saddened that I couldn't have those on a physical format, because the music would still be there.

Not completely gone.

Progress is a funny thing.  I remember in my teen years getting absolutely excited to find a new or funky record store that had all sorts of things available to buy that my usual haunts did not.  The Internet and online shopping has basically done away with that experience as well.  Do I miss that feeling?  At my age, not really.  I still get excited and have a sense of wonderment whenever I find a CD that's been out of print that's finally going to be reissued again, or an album I loved that is going to be issued for the first time in digital format.  That the entire world has become one giant record store is nothing to complain about, I don't think.

The last CD I personally recorded and handed out was made back in 2004.  Even then I decided that when and if I ever recorded again I would strictly go digital files with the distribution.  I still feel that way.  CDs are going the way of the music video.  Yeah, they still make 'em, but for whom?

And I still have a shitload of old tapes sitting around in the basement at mom and dad's.  Yeesh.

Billy Joel Again

Anyone who knows me knows my real love of music started back when I was five years old.  My older brother brought home Billy Joel's The Stranger LP in '77 and that was that.  I dunno.  The first time I heard "Movin' Out" I was struck by a feeling of the this is it variety.  And so every music fan has a true beginning somewhere, and for me that was it.

Back in 1998, Billy Joel's entire catalog was remastered and reissued.  Each disc had lyric sheets, some rare photos where applicable, and videos for the songs that had clips made for 'em.  They sounded great and I was happier with them than the original CBS/Sony discs that were originally issued.

Not too long ago, The Stranger was reissued in an anniversary package.  I was lucky enough to get the boxed set version for nada to review over at Bullz-Eye.com.  I was also sent the two-disc "Legacy Edition" as well.  I thought that remaster sounded even better than the '98 disc, although some audiophiles disagreed.  I recall in my review saying it would be nice if Billy's stuff could be remastered again.

Well, lo and behold here in 2011 that is what's going to happen.  Discs, DVDs, a box set, you name it, it's coming out.  No word on whether or not the fan fave Live from Long Island video will be reissued, but one can only hope.  There's also a "Legacy Edition" of Piano Man slated for release, which I find a little odd considering it's not one of Billy's most solid releases, but god knows I'll be buying all this stuff again regardless.  Hey, when you have musical tastes such as mine, or are around the same age bracket, these things are exciting.  It's getting harder and harder to find musical artists worth a damn anymore, so if I have to dole out for The Nylon Curtain, et al another time, I'm there.  I mean, I already gave Billy some more of my money the other week when his pack o' tunes came out on Rock Band.

Good shit, indeed.

A weird thought regarding playing video games

So I was just playing some Xbox 360 gaming goodness when I suddenly wondered if there was ever a gamer out there so weird that he or she stopped playing a game when his main character or whatever got killed.  Now I'm not talking about ye good olde days of gaming when you got three lives for a quarter, with bonuses at X amount of points, rather I'm talking about a game like any of the more recent Grand Theft Auto, Call of Duty, Halo, Mass Effect, or any of those titles with a story-driven single-player campaign mode.

I was thinking about perhaps a guy playing a GTA game, getting himself killed in whatever fashion for the first time, and then just stopping...as if he couldn't keep playing unless he bought another copy of the same game to continue.  Do you think there's ever been anyone out there that weird who would play in such a way?  That they were just that dense that their brain goes, "Oh, my.  My character just got killed.  Oh well, that was a pretty good 60 dollar purchase for five minutes of fun.  Perhaps I'll get another copy to see what happens if I can get a little farther now that I know what not to do!"

I know, it's completely out there.  But given the number of weirdos in this world mixed with the number of different types of games out there multiplied by the number of years video games with longer story lines have been around (we can take it all the way back to text adventures if you like), you'd think that perhaps such an anomaly might actually exist.  And if it does, I want to meet it.

Uber fans must stop!

Calm down, now.  It's only rock and roll.

No, I'm not putting an umlaut over the U in "Uber."  And I apologize for lack of posts lately, but hey, we're back.  And this time I'd like to discuss the uber fan.  You know the type; the kind of fan that doesn't like to hear anything bad about his favorite band or artist and doesn't believe said entity ever released anything considered below average.

The Internet is filled with said types of people.  The most recent ones I encountered over on the official forums for The Beatles: Rock Band game.  Some guy had posted asking if anyone else was moved to near tears like he was when they heard some Paul McCartney tune called "The End of The End."  I replied back, saying that he was probably the only one indeed, but that I wept openly any time I heard anything of Paulie's post Press to Play released back in 1986.

Yes, Paul, we all remember those good old days.

It was a joke.  I mean, I meant what I said regarding my opinions of Macca's work, but it was said with humor.  You get it, I'm sure.

But no, a couple of fans on there missed in entirely, with one merely replying "go away," to which I fired off a short reply saying, "Why, because it's true?" and then reeling off the McCartney albums of the last decade or two I didn't like.  Then another guy chimes in telling me (as "facts," mind you, his wording) that I shouldn't listen to them if I think they're rubbish, and to not whine about it on the board there.

Wow.  Really?  I asked him if I should take it all the way back to Wings' Wild Life LP for the (in my opinion) earliest proof of post-Beatles Macca sludge, and then added that I found even that to be more entertaining than anything McCartney's released in 20 years.  I left it at that, but I'm always surprised by the uber fans and how their heroes can do no wrong.

At least Lou is still cantankerous even when he's dull.

I love Paul McCartney and a lot of his music, but my ears are not deaf.  Same thing with my man Lou Reed.  Lou has released an incredible amount of crap during his lifetime, and I'm sure at this point in his life even he'd admit to some of it.  But that doesn't mean I like the artist any less.  Hell, I own all those McCartney albums I don't like, because I bought them at the time thinking maybe this would be the one.  But they never are, and that's OK.  Paul McCartney and others in his rocking age bracket really don't need the radio to keep them afloat anymore. 

But my point was he could at least try to write some good songs.  Ditto that for my hero Elvis Costello, another dude who has just gone into Critical Blandness a while back with no signs of changing course.  I get it; this shit happens.  Which is exactly why these same dudes mainly play their back catalog to the adoring crowds because even they know no one wants to really hear their boring new stuff.

So I beg of you, uber fans, please open your ears.  Be reasonable.  There's no need to defend every note of every tune by your fave artist.  Hell, I already covered how lame the Beatles' own "Love Me Do" is here a few posts back.  It's true.  The Fabs had stinkers on all their albums.  It doesn't diminish their importance or talents.  It just proves they were as human as the rest of us.

Why the Fuck Did I Ever Like Ben Folds?

Durr-HURR, Ben.  So freakin' hilarious.

 Dear Me,

Why the fuck did I ever like Ben Folds?  I mean, c'mon.  The dude's a drag.  Sure, I played his first album quite a bit into the ground, but I don't think I could ever sit through the entire thing ever again.  I'll give it up for his bouncy pop shit on that one.  Let's go ahead and say the first seven tracks are still solid.  But after that, I'm calling it quits.

Then there was that second album.  The only thing I like on that is "Song for the Dumped."  The rest is bogus, Jack.  Of course, fame came a-calling with his abortion ode "Brick," and that's the precise moment when he got boring.  The same thing happened to Elton John, you know.  Once upon a time the guy could rock and pop with the best of 'em, then suddenly he decided to just stop and become middle of the road.

Folds did just that with that miserable third album.  The hardcore fans call it is best, but I just call it boring.  There's no fun to be had with Reinhold Messner, and of course after the Five called it quits after the album, they naturally reunited later to  play some one-offs of the entire LP.  Shit, I'd rather sit through some Fergie.  You're at least guaranteed some bounce there.

The "solo" stuff has been no better, with perhaps the smarm of "Rockin' the Suburbs" being any real highlight.  What gets me is people are waiting for him to "get back."  Ladies and gentlemen, the dude has nowhere to return.  He can play a mean pianie, but he chooses to write boring songs on which to play it.

I even saw him live and walked out on the show.  And for the record, my version of "Bitches Ain't Shit" is far funnier in an ironic white dork singing a sexist rap tune way.

Sincerely,

You

Let's Make 2011 a Dick Clark-Free Zone



I want to know Dick's secrets to looking eternally youthful.

You know what the highlight of my year usually is these days?  Seeing Dick Clark's corpse wheeled out every New Year's Eve on ABC TV.  Ah, now I remember the good old days watching Clark's New Years Rockin' Eve and seeing the likes of Anson Williams co-hosting the "festivities out in California."  But that was a long time ago.  Since Clark had his stroke in 2004, it's basically been the Ryan Seacrest with Special Guest Dick Clark's Flaccid Eve.

I admit to wanting to see the Clark spectacle like wanting to see whatever remains in a four car pile up on the highway.  Obviously, Dicky has the say in whether he's on or not, since the All-Star Flaccid Show is built upon the previous monolith that was Clark's own creation.  But shouldn't someone tell him that it's probably best just to stay home with his wife and call it a day already? 

Do kids these days even know who Dick Clark is/was?



Gah!  What the hell is THAT?!


Being of the fantastic Generation X, I am of that last group of Saturday Morning TV kids whose Saturday started somewhere around 7:30 in the morning and didn't end until Clark's American Bandstand was rolling its credits.  And the dude also rocked The $25,000 Pyramid and even The $100,000 Pyramid on weekday mornings, fer chrissakes.  So I grew up with Dick Clark like the generation before mine.  The cat was awesome, except when he was hosting TV's Bloopers and Practical Jokes with Ed McMahon.  I think we can all forget about that one. 

He was eternally young.  Now he's eternally deadish.  But year after year, here he comes to have his spectre thrown on the airwaves (possibly one more time) so he can bring everyone down.  Watch the ghoulfest this year and see if you don't need some kind of stimulant or depressant in your system just to tolerate the depressing mess.  Dick, we cannot go hoppin' anymore if you have to come along.  I'm sorry pal, that's just how it is.

Maybe I don't want to read that book, after all.

So I am begging you, dear friends, to help me make this year a Dick Clark-Free Zone.  Let's band together and make sure all 365 days of the year (instead of the usual 364) do not feature Dick crawling out from his crypt to give Ryan Seacrest a little more money for one night.  You don't see me parading my dead or near death friends and relatives on YouTube or a major TV network.  I expect the same courtesy of ABC.  Why scare the kids, ABC?  Why bring everyone else down?  You know, the ones of us who only want to remember Dick Clark pre-2004.  Seriously.  They drag his ass out there year after year and the best thing anyone can say about it every time is "Well, he's looking pretty good." 

People, that doesn't cut it for a dude who was supposed to look eternally perfect.  If I was Dick Clark's skeleton, I would sue his brain for messing everything up.