most played song of all time

Reblogged from Hockey Dad Records:

The Bloggers 24 Hits
Hockey Dad Records 24

“I’m bootlegging a collection of some of my favorite early Bloggers songs, all from before jam 75. I didn’t ask the dudes for permission! Don’t tell them! Essential and obnoxious Vancouver lo-fi/noise/indie/outsider jams.”

“This is the first digital only Hockey Dad release, something I’ll try to keep doing because that shit is FREEEEEEE. I still have a few copies of the Bloggers self titled CD available if anybody likes physical objects that play music anymore. Jarrett from Geographing/Student Loan may still be working on a release with The Bloggers, but I haven’t heard much about that lately so it may have fallen apart.”

“Cover collage by Ryan Dyck. That’s me.”

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Finally.

At the end of February (let’s ditch the optimism and call it May) the Bloggers are releasing their second album Part of the Problem from beyond the grave. It’s being put out by Geographing, along with a DVD of their top 500 jams (under 40%). Josiah Hughes at Exclaim has the details, and the MAD letterhead on his tumblr. I’m going to die.

Not on that DVD will be the March 2007 practice tape that I previously posted here (ghostplus.blogspot.com), because it was a practice, not a jam. Essential, not quite forgotten listening, along with their Hockey Dad debut album.

Also making me freak out, after releasing their demo tape back in 2007, a 7” in 2009, and throwing away dozens of recordings that add up to less than the length of Come Sail Away or Total Eclipse of the Heart or whatever too long song was on TV lately, (and sneaking a couple rarities onto comps that are impossible to get your hands on), B-Lines’ first 12” is so close to ready that it feels like we’re packed onto a bus and a homeless guy is yelling at everyone about nothing while his girlfriend sleeps with her mouth wide open. That’s nine songs or something in ten minutes probably. A twelve inch? Nominal and Deranged just like wasting the plastic (it sounds better).

There’s a blizzard tonight but I’m heading to Vancouver by plane, hopefully just before it hits, so instead of freezing to death for the next week, well, I’ll still be freezing to death, except I’ll be soaking miserable on the West Coast instead of buried under a foot of snow. This coast doesn’t even have a coast. See you at Nobunny.

While I’m on that plane, or not, here’s my pre-work / post-work / while everyone else is on lunch mix for you to, um, have. 45 minutes, half of that C90 for your crush.

1. Cutty Ranks Intro, Live at Skateland 1986
2. Deep Wound I Saw It 1983
3. Negative Approach Nothing 1982
4. Total Abuse The Same 2007
5. The Stalin Dendu Kokeshi 1980
6. Anonymous Corporate Food 1980
7. Screamers If I Can’t Have What I Want (I Don’t Want Anything) 1978
8. DNA Not Moving 1978
9. Deadbeats Brainless 1978
10. Black Flag Damaged I 1981
11. Endtables Circumcision 1979
12. Flipper Ha Ha Ha 1980
13. The Germs No God 1978
14. Descendents I’m Not a Punk 1982
15. Buzzcocks Time’s Up 1977
16. Dead Kennedys Ill in the Head 1980
17. Mad Virgins I am a Computer 1978
18. The Nothing Scream ‘n’ Cry 1979
19. Razar Task Force 1978
20. Minor Threat 12XU 1982

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Grassy Knoll by Melanie Coles. melanie-coles.com

“Just stay with the story, don’t say anything! I swear to God, if we screw this up… Don’t say anything!”

Before the show we stopped for a pre-drink. We wandered through the karaoke book and saw a Mike Nelson impersonator. Too many traditional songs, too many young professionals, and cheap enough drinks to ignore the wind for a few blocks.

It’s impossible to look up anything from Twin Peaks without a million spoilers.

The Great Hall is gorgeous. The balcony was a great vantage point for Lightning Bolt, but the sound was a mess. We stayed on the floor, holding our coats and sipping drinks hoping for something better. I tried to prepare myself for the show, pruning expectations, warning myself No Age might be past their prime.

Around midnight someone twirls knobs on stage. A Dean Spunt-looking guy joins him and so does a guitarist and they play a really boring song. It’s bland and when it’s done it turns out they’re not one of the dozen openers, they’re No Age, and they go into Teen Creeps.

The set is heavy on favourites (Weirdo Rippers and Nouns), but what is the synth / samples/ pedals guy doing? There’s samples, but Dean used to just hit a pad and it was fine. No value added, and guys rocking out on keys are always embarrassing unless they’re climbing on top of them, abusing them, and acting like they know that keys are for emotionless nerds. Gary Numan’s mom used to do his hair before shows.

The new songs are all boring shit, the old songs probably would’ve sounded great somewhere else. It’s a collaboration between the hall’s acoustics and the sound guy. It might’ve sounded good from his crow’s nest, but on the floor I was in a swamp of low-end, listening to a band without a bass player. The snare was inaudible and the kick and floor tom suffocated everything else.

This is one of the strongest emotional reactions I’ve ever had to a show. I crammed down expectations, and I was still so, so disappointed. I don’t like their new songs, and I couldn’t even hear their old ones! Maybe right at the front you could hear everything right, but I wasn’t in a bad spot.

We left upset and walked home hating the hall.

If you haven’t, visit my nostalgia sewer, g+. Even without emotional investment, Title Shot’s Quit Your Job and Go to Heaven is a fantastic pop song. It’s hard to believe it’s five years old. The Blogger’s March 2007 practice is probably the best document of them working on jagged off-brand pop songs instead of their usual jams. L’ananas hit a home run on You’ve Chains’d Man and Hat Dog Doodle, two super fun garage noise pop singles too exciting to rot on my computer. You can even hear my old band so you can criticize the shit out of me for not liking your (friend’s) band. Here’s what’s up:

B-Lines “Geoffrey Ingram” “Wirehead”
Bloggers March 25, 2007
Citizen Grade Demo
Cran Live at Murrayville Hall, 2007
Ex-Friends XFREN / Fuck Dog USA
Fun 100 Live in Toronto, September 2006
Fun 100 / The Hand Split EP
The Hand Brothers, We Are Rich
L’ananas Big Whoop
Lananas “Hat Dog Doodle” / “You’ve Chains’d Man”
Schuul Elementary / Elementary
Sick Phone One Hundred Thousand Two Hundred Eight
They Shoot Horses, Don’t They? They Shoot Horses
Title Shot “Quit Your Job and Go to Heaven”
WCB Tape
z-z-z-Zdopter Dirty Cutoffs
53k+ Go-Go War Form

An average work-week went by and I walked in the rain and thought I was lost but I was right where I needed to be and I stepped into the Gladstone Hotel and cleaned my glasses and peeled off my soaked sweater and sat down in the Melody Bar.

Drier, Beard Closet crept dreary soundscapes through heavy processing, and interrupted it with bursts of guitar. The loops were pretty similar, but Beard Closet’s guitar swept across styles, starting out droning through endless circuits, then churning out heavy changes, sliding into psych melodies, unrestrained punk noise, and dissonant chords, between slices of feedback. Despite the disparate sources, the vision was unified, the only frustration when he couldn’t get his guitar as dry as he wanted it. It’s rare to see someone make noise so aggressive, exciting, and propulsive, but still treated with atmosphere.

VHS in town, Doldrums lived up to expectations, spraying bizarre, colourful noise pop across the room with manipulation and mutilation in excess. The mixture of samples, loops, drum machines, dreamy 90’s bedroom fantasy pop idol vocals, all twisted into oblivion is fun and interesting, and Doldrums could be Toronto’s most charismatic presence. Animated, a little confrontational, and hilarious, it was disappointing when he spent the second half of his set standing at his keyboard instead of squirming around like he had been. So far that’s two for two in the must see column.

Nif-D / Nifty took his sweet time getting started, and opened with a pre-set explanation of his new time-constrained project. “This is a lot more interesting to me than actually playing the show.” It actually was a lot more interesting than the actual show. I almost fell asleep as every song built up loops above Ableton drums and underneath spiritually inspired vocals. As one idea, it’s not bad, but every song is just that. Maybe there was a different beat, this one didn’t have acoustic guitar, that one is improvised, but it was so monotonous I couldn’t wait to leave. Eternity passed and I went home and the cat scratched my face and I wished Nif-D was more like that.

Jonny-Chance isn’t going anywhere, but check out g+, a shameless mp3 blog of my friends’ stuff. Practice tapes, demos, unreleased whatever, some released.

Highlights so far include the Bloggers, B-Lines, Citizen Grade, Fun 100, the Hand, and L’ananas!

Jay Reatard at the Biltmore, June 16, 2009. Shove at the Astoria and Sex Negatives at the Rickshaw, June 19, 2009. The Bloggers, Shipyards, and Chris-a-riffic at Hoko’s and Dozal Brothers and Twin Crystals at the Astoria, June 20, 2009. The Fresh & Onlys and Sex Church at Pat’s Pub, June 21, 2009.

Now I should stay in all week.

Tuesday was Jay Reatard and sneaking Pabst upstairs. He had a bass player, a drum-hitter, and they kept songs fast and short. Having only one guitar (sometimes acoustic) sounded wussy for the first half, but they pulled a coup with It’s So Easy and going through My Shadow they started to kill. I came out with a black eye.

I wasn’t convinced by Shove at the Astoria Friday night. They were too sludgy for my tastes, and then played an outright bad song about Matt Dillon. Daniel wasn’t into it at all, get prissy about the crowd. After that the chugging power-chords let up and you started noticing that Mish’s bass was spitting out some weird approximation of bubbly sixties pop under all the grime. I wasn’t thrilled, and it could still go terribly wrong, but there was promise if you looked in the right spots.

I got to the Rickshaw ten steps behind Justin Gradin and walked in on two Sex Negatives songs. Hopes for seeing Nü Sensae were dashed when the show was shut down. Everything had to be over by 12:30, unknown to everyone. A guy walked through a window and that was that.

Hoko’s Saturday night had fifty people inside, eating sushi, finding sasquatch, and smiling. I came just before Chris-a-riffic set up. I can’t recall ever being so eager to applaud. Read his name, it’s the real deal. His lyrics, the crisp piano tone, spirited vocals, never close to too long, it’s like hearing Charlie Brown, the same crushed warmth, except you’re not depressed by the last page. His cover of Satan’s Daughter (the Bloggers song, not Gary Glitter, not Cross the Breeze) was more enthusiastic than who-would-dare? and he’s the only guy in Vancouver pulling off two gorgeous a capellas in a row.

I wasn’t smoking during Shipyards, I think, and came back in for the last Bloggers set. ever.

Shit, it was perfect. Evan on third guitar was fantastic, everything was wonderful, even the fuck-ups that no one would have noticed if there weren’t confused faces on stage. Every song was a winner, but as much as I love the feedback and Adam F’s over the top leads, they were at their best when everyone was focused on the same end.

I’m so glad I got to play a part in such a criminally unappreciated band. Buy their CD, and then watch out for the 25 CD-R box set. In The Band that Would Be King Gerald Cosley says the only proper way to listen to Half Japanese is in several hour long marathons, with no distractions. The Bloggers are like that, except fun.

I’m sure someone can write a more eloquent eulogy, all I know is that I’ve caught myself singing Scared Away almost every day for months. I’m / Sorry I / Stuck a pig / In the mouth of an apple…

Without regret, I got to No Age too late and headed back up Main and found myself at the Astoria watching the last of Twin Crystals’ buzz-synth set. Everyone cleared out for the Dozal Brothers, who I wouldn’t have stayed inside for if I hadn’t just paid six bucks to get in and another few to split a pitcher. They were stupid typical dance music with heavily processed vocals. I didn’t hate them, they just weren’t that good, even with all that Texan enthusiasm.

Last weekend day I missed Mode Moderne but heard all of Sex Church, who I’ve been resenting for months now. They started out with a good washed-out pop song that jammed itself away from being good. The next few songs were more washed out, less good, boring. Then an outright bad song and I retreated to pinball. There’s some good ideas ‘n’ bits in Sex Church, but they’re burried in so much shit. I don’t mean sonic-wise, although that too, I mean there’s so much bad material drowning the alright bits. I’ll give them a huge commendation for keeping their set to a balmy 25 minutes. I can swallow 25 minutes; 45 minutes, you have to clean the mess.

They finished with another shitty song, but it was really loud. Is that a plus I guess?

I’ve been enjoying the shit out of the Fresh & Onlys LP. Live was a lot different. Ignore the garage tag, the guitar was pure late-70’s / early-80’s power-pop, bluesless, squeaky clean deliberateness. The piss-off was the lead singer / keys. The synths slide between unobtrusive and painfully dated. The vocals were worse. The singer had this stupid affected voice, the same voice of dried-out insecurity I’ve heard fourteen year-old boys put on, trying to be a character, some kind of re-invention that’s artificially distant. It almost mocks the music to cover its ass. Lyrics like “I don’t have many imaginary friends, but if I did I would live with them until the very, very end” work best with some degree of earnesty. (Fuck you the dictionary, it’s a word now!) It was still lots of fun though; they couldn’t fuck up Peacock and Wing.

Defektors and Mt. Royal at the Bourbon, Collapsing Opposites and the Bloggers at Funky Winkerbean’s, and London Drugs at the Biltmore for Music Waste, June 11, 2009

Thursday was my busiest night, frantically pedalling up Main to get from the Bourbon to the Biltmore in fifteen minutes. It started out with walking my bike to Funky Winkerbeans, past a crew of clones, like those girls in high school who always wore the same patterns and straight bleach-blonde hair, except these guys had beards.

I missed the first Bloggers song, but the rest of their set was the typical blender of reverb, feedback, and gorgeous, occasionally dissonant hooks. Their last show ever (unlike all those other last shows) is Saturday at Hoko’s. It’s an early show, so ignore No Age at the Biltmore.

Ryan McCormick played the same goofy songs when I saw Collapsing Opposites three years ago. They’re still catchy and fun, except now they’re old and noisier.

Around the corner the Bourbon was disgusting. I saw the end of Mt. Royal after standing in line and having my ID swiped. The clones from before sounded like Wolf Parade trying out some 101.1 material, minus the endearing cheese.

Defektors were a highlight of Music Waste. They have enough songs that they don’t play all their hits anymore, and it’s alright. I warmed up to the new stuff quick, although the (probably faux-hawked and touching girls) shit head who threw a glass at Ben wasn’t onboard. An LP isn’t looking so distant anymore.

It doesn’t work on paper. Post-punk so bluesy it threatens late-70’s hard rock. They’ve got pedals and solos, but somehow pull out dreary basement shout-alongs. It’s Vancouver’s Marquee Moon.

I biked past a homeless guy who shouted at me about how embarrassed I should be and showed up just in time for London Drugs (MySpace deleted?) at the Biltmore. I didn’t expect much, but at least it could have been louder. It’s not surprising that they started as a party joke. I liked the dual ooooh/scream vocals, but I just couldn’t really get into the DS tunes.