Thursday, December 17, 2009

DoubleShot: The Thermals

“God reached his hand down from the sky. He flooded the land and he set it on fire.”



The Thermals – The Body, the Blood, The Machine – 2006

I can't begin to explain how important music was to me in 2006. Lizzie had just died. Finding my happy was next to impossible. What's amazing is that none of the music that I discovered that year reminds of that time. All of the really good stuff transcends that terrible event. It was all just so damned good.
On Soulseek (oh, how I miss you, Soulseek) I was starting to see the name of a band that I thought sounded cool. The Thermals sounded like a New Wave band that I would have discovered in 1982 and tried to convince everyone how great they were.
The year and the genre were wrong and everything else was right.
A three piece power punk garage group with a sound and message larger than the band's number. Their 3rd album, The Body, the Blood, The Machine is a bloodletting. More often than not drawing on biblical themes of violence and religious hypocrisy, the songs on BBM contain some of the most terrific melodies against a backdrop of faith based pain.
“Here's Your Future” spits God's words and needs at Noah and Jesus with such venom one wonders if this is a deity we should worship.
“I Might Need You To Kill” takes us to the next level, after all, God has asked a lot of the likes of Abraham and Isaac.
Songwriter, guitarist and lead singer Hutch Harris' thin, nerdy voice is so perfect when he sings “It's time for reassignment, time for a new first world order” on “An Ear for a Baby”. Or “I regret leaving at all, I forgot I needed God like a Big Brother”. He's like a truth prophet, minister, evangelist, punk, town crier all rolled into one. “Good luck putting even a dent in the mission, the dream, the body, the blood, the machine.” How can a sound this big and damning come from just a guitar, drum and bass??? It does and you best be listening to it LOUD.
Thing is, The Thermals aren't a Christian rock band. It just happened, from what I've read, that the songs took on this shape and these themes. Sometimes a muse takes hold of a songwriter and guides his hand and voice and guitar to a place no one would have expected. Or could have.
The Body, the Blood, The Machine is easily one of the great records of the past decade. Perhaps one of my favorites ever. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.

Grade: A+
Aside: Everything. This album won't let you down.



The Thermals – Now We Can See – 2009

It didn't take much to get me excited about the new Thermals album. But, I'd already suffered my disappointments with The Fratellis & The Hold Steady, 2 more discoveries from 2006 whose follow-ups were not as exciting as the original. I was prepared for Now We Can See to pale in comparison to The Body, the Blood, The Machine. It would be impossible to top that record and I didn't expect it to. BBM is different from Hold Steady's Boys & Girls or The Fratelli's Costello Music. It was a once in a lifetime record. A Born to Run. A Thriller. You can't catch lightning like that again. I was prepared for a letdown. What I wasn't prepared for was for there to be one song on the new record that was, well, actually, catchy. Radio friendly. Possibly, even, a hit.
The song-crafting on Now We Can See is exactly the same. Dependable. Upbeat garage pop. Maybe a little more frenetic, excited. That doesn't mean that it's redundant or repetitive. It's elegiac in it's own way.
Obsessed with water and death this time, Hutch Harris brings his 3 minute pop sensibilities to new themes with a sound that seems to embrace pop music just a little bit. The guitar licks are familiar and melodic, instead of just being angular and jagged.
The near 80s “oh way oh-ow oh woah”s of the title demand that you sing along. It's new wave pop punk at it's finest. I defy you not to dance in your kitchen while Harris is singing “But the images don't stick. Our enemies lay dead on the ground. And still we kick!” or “We still need the medicine quick. We still take the pill but only for the fix.” And the teeniest but most perfectly laid guitar solo brings the track to a new place.
The water/death themes run throughout the albums, making most of their impact on “At the Bottom of the Sea” & “Liquid In, Liquid Out”.
“When We Were Alive” simply shreds and before it even registers it's gone.
“How We Fade” takes the death idiom to a it's most desperate and reflective and drives us to the (water themed) coalescence of “You Dissolve”. “You dissolve. It's just another way you exist. It's the only way you depart.”

I'm tempted to not give the record as high a rating as the previous but that because, A) I don't want to diminish the previous album's brilliance however B) I'm afraid that Now We Can See will get a lesser grade because there is no surprise for the listener after BBM, which is such a stupefyingly great album.
What to do? Perhaps the repetition of “When I was Afraid” or “I Called Out Your Name” might feel like a band that relies on certain songwriting tricks and templates. But, had I not heard BBM, I might not think so.

Usually a review of a record that doesn't build on a sound but offers the same type of music a second time around would garner a bad review and a suggestion that “you don't need to hear this record” but I think you DO need to hear this record. Right after the previous one. Because Harris and gang won't let you down.

Grade A
A Side: Now We Can See, Liquid in Liquid Out, How We Fade
BlindSide: When I Died, We Were Sick, I Let It Go, At the Bottom of the Sea,

Wednesday, December 16, 2009

Architecture Hoedown! Day 1

Remember this cute little house we have?




It's behind our house. It's small. Cozy. And the people who rent it have been there for 14 years. Fully 9 years before we bought the place.
And because of them the bathroom now looks like this:



You can see the damage. Most of it is because the bathroom was never retrofitted for a shower, having been built in 1923. A LOT of this damage has come from these tenants who basically treat this house like a hovel.













Here are some shots of the damage they have done in the kitchen.








So. The workers came today. Started the process. In about 5 days this will be a gorgeous and livable bathroom. Hopefully the city will think so, too.

Wednesday, December 9, 2009

Architecture Hoedown!

The city came by last week to "check out' the guest house. They found stuff wrong with it. I don't disagree. It needs work. It needs the tenants to move out so I can redo it correctly and make more money on it, but that's a different story.
The city also decided that we need to do something about our carport.



It's not really a carport as much as its a dilapidated shed that really should be torn down and put out of our misery.

Trouble is, figuring out what to do:

We could just roof it, but that's a waste of time and money.


Or we could tear it down and put up a new carport. Which is what we want to do. Except that we would want it to be an enclosed carport. And we would want it to have a door. Which would make it a garage.

I went to Building & Safety today to find out the specs of what I would need to do. They told me to draw the plans and they would approve them. So, let me get this straight: You DON'T want to give me specs so I know what the parameters are for what I want to build. You just want me to draw the plans and have you approve or not. That's stupid.
Bureaucracy. Just as you imagine it.

Here's what we are looking at. Hopefully in a few weeks it will be much nicer.

Saturday, December 5, 2009

Eating In: (Diabetic) Breakfast Burrito



It's been ages since I posted a recipe but, ever since I was diagnosed as T2 Diabetic I've had to re-evaluate my dining habits. Which led me to the lo-carb breakfast burrito. Before you run screaming, trust me, I've altered it enough that it does taste, truly, like it will kill you. Even if it won't.

Here's what you need:
1 Low-Carb Wheat Burrito Tortilla (31g with, like 21g fiber)
Egg Beaters
1.5 TBS Chopped Onion
1.5 TBS Green Pepper
1 strip Turkey Bacon
Cheese (optional, I like low-fat Monterey Jack)
Sun-dried tomato pesto (also optional, high in calories)
dash Cumin
dash Crushed Red Pepper flakes
Smart Balance spread
Sriracha (Red Asian Hot Sauce)

Take a teaspoon of smart balance and mix in a squirt of Sriracha. Set aside.
In a non-stick skillet (I prefer ScanPan, the greatest pan ever invented), saute the onion, green pepper & bacon.
When just about to your desired doneness add the dash of cumin and dash of crushed red pepper flakes.
When that is done, pour in your egg product and scramble.
Remove from heat.
Take your tortilla and spread hot butter all over one side.
Turn over and put in 1/2 your cheese.
Add Sun-dried tomato pesto.
Add your egg mixture and the rest of the cheese.
Cover with a squirt of Sriracha.
Roll up. It will be slippery.
Put the rolled up burrito BACK in the heated skillet. Turn every 2 minutes to evenly crisp.
Remove, let stand.
Cut in half.
Enjoy.

Calories: 500 (400 w/out pesto. 320 w/out cheese)
Carbs: 36 (32 w/out pesto)

If you were doing this with the REAL stuff.....REAL bacon, REAL eggs, REAL cheese, REAL Butter...

you will die.

Try it! It's delicious!

Whiskey A Go Go - Knob Creek



It was an old friend's birthday last night. The party was at a sports tavern in the Valley. Perhaps my least favorite type of establishment on the planet. But, heck, it was what he wanted so it's all cool. (And the macaroni & Cheese was garlicky and crispy and yummy).
It's customary to buy an old friend a drink on his birthday and he was kind enough to ask for nothing more than a Jameson.
I got him a Johnnie Blue instead. And had one for myself as well. Was there ever a whiskey as smooth and genuinely giving as Johnnie Walker Blue? I don't think so.
But this isn't a review of Blue.
So, how to follow up the tender and delicate smoothness of the Blue?
With Knob Creek. Right?
No.
Recommended by another Whiskey drinker I know, this bourbon hit my palette in every wrong way possible. Harsh, angry, biting, with a taste that reminded me too much of plastic.
That was the note I kept recalling. Like a balloon. Not pleasant at all.
Which all goes to show that I am probably not a bourbon drinker after. More of a scotch drinker. We'll find out tonight as the guys are going to a restaurant together and I plan on having (more than one) glass of liquid life.
As for the Knob.
Not so much.

Thursday, December 3, 2009

How rock bands get fucked by the recording Industry.

Steve Albini is one of the most well known names in rock. He's a super producer and a semi legend. And he wrote the definitive article on how the music industry works to make money of it's indentured servants: the rock star.

I have no way of getting in touch with Mr. Albini so, until I am told otherwise, I am reposting his article. The link to where I found it is at negativland.

Be careful what you wish for........



The Problem With Music
by Steve Albini

Whenever I talk to a band who are about to sign with a major label, I always end up thinking of them in a particular context. I imagine a trench, about four feet wide and five feet deep, maybe sixty yards long, filled with runny, decaying shit. I imagine these people, some of them good friends, some of them barely acquaintances, at one end of this trench. I also imagine a faceless industry lackey at the other end holding a fountain pen and a contract waiting to be signed. Nobody can see what's printed on the contract. It's too far away, and besides, the shit stench is making everybody's eyes water. The lackey shouts to everybody that the first one to swim the trench gets to sign the contract. Everybody dives in the trench and they struggle furiously to get to the other end. Two people arrive simultaneously and begin wrestling furiously, clawing each other and dunking each other under the shit. Eventually, one of them capitulates, and there's only one contestant left. He reaches for the pen, but the Lackey says "Actually, I think you need a little more development. Swim again, please. Backstroke". And he does of course.

Every major label involved in the hunt for new bands now has on staff a high-profile point man, an "A & R" rep who can present a comfortable face to any prospective band. The initials stand for "Artist and Repertoire." because historically, the A & R staff would select artists to record music that they had also selected, out of an available pool of each. This is still the case, though not openly. These guys are universally young [about the same age as the bands being wooed], and nowadays they always have some obvious underground rock credibility flag they can wave.

Lyle Preslar, former guitarist for Minor Threat, is one of them. Terry Tolkin, former NY independent booking agent and assistant manager at Touch and Go is one of them. Al Smith, former soundman at CBGB is one of them. Mike Gitter, former editor of XXX fanzine and contributor to Rip, Kerrang and other lowbrow rags is one of them. Many of the annoying turds who used to staff college radio stations are in their ranks as well. There are several reasons A & R scouts are always young. The explanation usually copped-to is that the scout will be "hip to the current musical "scene." A more important reason is that the bands will intuitively trust someone they think is a peer, and who speaks fondly of the same formative rock and roll experiences. The A & R person is the first person to make contact with the band, and as such is the first person to promise them the moon. Who better to promise them the moon than an idealistic young turk who expects to be calling the shots in a few years, and who has had no previous experience with a big record company. Hell, he's as naive as the band he's duping. When he tells them no one will interfere in their creative process, he probably even believes it. When he sits down with the band for the first time, over a plate of angel hair pasta, he can tell them with all sincerity that when they sign with company X, they're really signing with him and he's on their side. Remember that great gig I saw you at in '85? Didn't we have a blast. By now all rock bands are wise enough to be suspicious of music industry scum. There is a pervasive caricature in popular culture of a portly, middle aged ex-hipster talking a mile-a-minute, using outdated jargon and calling everybody "baby." After meeting "their" A & R guy, the band will say to themselves and everyone else, "He's not like a record company guy at all! He's like one of us." And they will be right. That's one of the reasons he was hired.

These A & R guys are not allowed to write contracts. What they do is present the band with a letter of intent, or "deal memo," which loosely states some terms, and affirms that the band will sign with the label once a contract has been agreed on. The spookiest thing about this harmless sounding little memo, is that it is, for all legal purposes, a binding document. That is, once the band signs it, they are under obligation to conclude a deal with the label. If the label presents them with a contract that the band don't want to sign, all the label has to do is wait. There are a hundred other bands willing to sign the exact same contract, so the label is in a position of strength. These letters never have any terms of expiration, so the band remain bound by the deal memo until a contract is signed, no matter how long that takes. The band cannot sign to another laborer or even put out its own material unless they are released from their agreement, which never happens. Make no mistake about it: once a band has signed a letter of intent, they will either eventually sign a contract that suits the label or they will be destroyed.

One of my favorite bands was held hostage for the better part of two years by a slick young "He's not like a label guy at all," A & R rep, on the basis of such a deal memo. He had failed to come through on any of his promises [something he did with similar effect to another well-known band], and so the band wanted out. Another label expressed interest, but when the A & R man was asked to release the band, he said he would need money or points, or possibly both, before he would consider it. The new label was afraid the price would be too dear, and they said no thanks. On the cusp of making their signature album, an excellent band, humiliated, broke up from the stress and the many months of inactivity. There's this band. They're pretty ordinary, but they're also pretty good, so they've attracted some attention. They're signed to a moderate-sized "independent" label owned by a distribution company, and they have another two albums owed to the label. They're a little ambitious. They'd like to get signed by a major label so they can have some security you know, get some good equipment, tour in a proper tour bus -- nothing fancy, just a little reward for all the hard work. To that end, they got a manager. He knows some of the label guys, and he can shop their next project to all the right people. He takes his cut, sure, but it's only 15%, and if he can get them signed then it's money well spent. Anyways, it doesn't cost them anything if it doesn't work. 15% of nothing isn't much! One day an A & R scout calls them, says he's 'been following them for a while now, and when their manager mentioned them to him, it just "clicked." Would they like to meet with him about the possibility of working out a deal with his label? Wow. Big Break time. They meet the guy, and y'know what -- he's not what they expected from a label guy. He's young and dresses pretty much like the band does. He knows all their favorite bands. He's like one of them. He tells them he wants to go to bat for them, to try to get them everything they want. He says anything is possible with the right attitude.

They conclude the evening by taking home a copy of a deal memo they wrote out and signed on the spot. The A & R guy was full of great ideas, even talked about using a name producer. Butch Vig is out of the question-he wants 100 g's and three points, but they can get Don Fleming for $30,000 plus three points. Even that's a little steep, so maybe they'll go with that guy who used to be in David Letterman's band. He only wants three points. Or they can have just anybody record it (like Warton Tiers, maybe-- cost you 5 or 7 grand] and have Andy Wallace remix it for 4 grand a track plus 2 points. It was a lot to think about. Well, they like this guy and they trust him. Besides, they already signed the deal memo. He must have been serious about wanting them to sign. They break the news to their current label, and the label manager says he wants them to succeed, so they have his blessing. He will need to be compensated, of course, for the remaining albums left on their contract, but he'll work it out with the label himself.

Sub Pop made millions from selling off Nirvana, and Twin Tone hasn't done bad either: 50 grand for the Babes and 60 grand for the Poster Children-- without having to sell a single additional record. It'll be something modest. The new label doesn't mind, so long as it's recoupable out of royalties. Well, they get the final contract, and it's not quite what they expected. They figure it's better to be safe than sorry and they turn it over to a lawyer--one who says he's experienced in entertainment law and he hammers out a few bugs. They're still not sure about it, but the lawyer says he's seen a lot of contracts, and theirs is pretty good. They'll be great royalty: 13% [less a 1O% packaging deduction]. Wasn't it Buffalo Tom that were only getting 12% less 10? Whatever. The old label only wants 50 grand, an no points. Hell, Sub Pop got 3 points when they let Nirvana go. They're signed for four years, with options on each year, for a total of over a million dollars! That's a lot of money in any man's English. The first year's advance alone is $250,000. Just think about it, a quarter million, just for being in a rock band! Their manager thinks it's a great deal, especially the large advance. Besides, he knows a publishing company that will take the band on if they get signed, and even give them an advance of 20 grand, so they'll be making that money too. The manager says publishing is pretty mysterious, and nobody really knows where all the money comes from, but the lawyer can look that contract over too. Hell, it's free money. Their booking agent is excited about the band signing to a major. He says they can maybe average $1,000 or $2,000 a night from now on. That's enough to justify a five week tour, and with tour support, they can use a proper crew, buy some good equipment and even get a tour bus! Buses are pretty expensive, but if you figure in the price of a hotel room for everybody In the band and crew, they're actually about the same cost. Some bands like Therapy? and Sloan and Stereolab use buses on their tours even when they're getting paid only a couple hundred bucks a night, and this tour should earn at least a grand or two every night. It'll be worth it. The band will be more comfortable and will play better.

The agent says a band on a major label can get a merchandising company to pay them an advance on T-shirt sales! ridiculous! There's a gold mine here! The lawyer Should look over the merchandising contract, just to be safe. They get drunk at the signing party. Polaroids are taken and everybody looks thrilled. The label picked them up in a limo. They decided to go with the producer who used to be in Letterman's band. He had these technicians come in and tune the drums for them and tweak their amps and guitars. He had a guy bring in a slew of expensive old "vintage" microphones. Boy, were they "warm." He even had a guy come in and check the phase of all the equipment in the control room! Boy, was he professional. He used a bunch of equipment on them and by the end of it, they all agreed that it sounded very "punchy," yet "warm." All that hard work paid off. With the help of a video, the album went like hotcakes! They sold a quarter million copies! Here is the math that will explain just how fucked they are: These figures are representative of amounts that appear in record contracts daily. There's no need to skew the figures to make the scenario look bad, since real-life examples more than abound. income is bold and underlined, expenses are not.


Advance: $ 250,000
Manager's cut: $ 37,500
Legal fees: $ 10,000
Recording Budget: $ 150,000
Producer's advance: $ 50,000
Studio fee: $ 52,500
Drum Amp, Mic and Phase "Doctors": $ 3,000
Recording tape: $ 8,000
Equipment rental: $ 5,000
Cartage and Transportation: $ 5,000
Lodgings while in studio: $ 10,000
Catering: $ 3,000
Mastering: $ 10,000
Tape copies, reference CDs, shipping tapes, misc. expenses: $ 2,000
Video budget: $ 30,000
Cameras: $ 8,000
Crew: $ 5,000
Processing and transfers: $ 3,000
Off-line: $ 2,000
On-line editing: $ 3,000
Catering: $ 1,000
Stage and construction: $ 3,000
Copies, couriers, transportation: $ 2,000
Director's fee: $ 3,000
Album Artwork: $ 5,000
Promotional photo shoot and duplication: $ 2,000
Band fund: $ 15,000
New fancy professional drum kit: $ 5,000
New fancy professional guitars [2]: $ 3,000
New fancy professional guitar amp rigs [2]: $ 4,000
New fancy potato-shaped bass guitar: $ 1,000
New fancy rack of lights bass amp: $ 1,000
Rehearsal space rental: $ 500
Big blowout party for their friends: $ 500
Tour expense [5 weeks]: $ 50,875
Bus: $ 25,000
Crew [3]: $ 7,500
Food and per diems: $ 7,875
Fuel: $ 3,000
Consumable supplies: $ 3,500
Wardrobe: $ 1,000
Promotion: $ 3,000
Tour gross income: $ 50,000
Agent's cut: $ 7,500
Manager's cut: $ 7,500
Merchandising advance: $ 20,000
Manager's cut: $ 3,000
Lawyer's fee: $ 1,000
Publishing advance: $ 20,000
Manager's cut: $ 3,000
Lawyer's fee: $ 1,000
Record sales: 250,000 @ $12 =
$3,000,000
Gross retail revenue Royalty: [13% of 90% of retail]:
$ 351,000
Less advance: $ 250,000
Producer's points: [3% less $50,000 advance]:
$ 40,000
Promotional budget: $ 25,000
Recoupable buyout from previous label: $ 50,000
Net royalty: $ -14,000
Record company income:

Record wholesale price: $6.50 x 250,000 =
$1,625,000 gross income
Artist Royalties: $ 351,000
Deficit from royalties: $ 14,000
Manufacturing, packaging and distribution: @ $2.20 per record: $ 550,000
Gross profit: $ 7l0,000
The Balance Sheet: This is how much each player got paid at the end of the game.

Record company: $ 710,000
Producer: $ 90,000
Manager: $ 51,000
Studio: $ 52,500
Previous label: $ 50,000
Agent: $ 7,500
Lawyer: $ 12,000
Band member net income each: $ 4,031.25
The band is now 1/4 of the way through its contract, has made the music industry more than 3 million dollars richer, but is in the hole $14,000 on royalties. The band members have each earned about 1/3 as much as they would working at a 7-11, but they got to ride in a tour bus for a month. The next album will be about the same, except that the record company will insist they spend more time and money on it. Since the previous one never "recouped," the band will have no leverage, and will oblige. The next tour will be about the same, except the merchandising advance will have already been paid, and the band, strangely enough, won't have earned any royalties from their T-shirts yet. Maybe the T-shirt guys have figured out how to count money like record company guys. Some of your friends are probably already this fucked.

Steve Albini is an independent and corporate rock record producer most widely known for having produced Nirvana's "In Utero".