The Stranglers were always a problematic punk rock band - they were older and more musically proficient than the young, loud, and snotty crew, and their keyboard-driven sound had more to do with the Doors than the Damned. But as they prove here (in a Baz Warne-fronted incarnation, with Jet Black pushing 70 years old behind the drum kit) in 2007, that maturity of songwriting and musicianship in the composition still pays off 30 years after the 1977 show this commemorates at the Roundhouse. Burnel’s bass sounds as awesome as ever (playing a Shuker, I believe). Would love to know his secret. And Baz had me double-taking to make sure he wasn’t Hugh, his delivery was that spot-on to the original (not to mention the solo). I love old guys who don’t sound it.
Barbotian Ocean 2.0
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My typical anti-hipster prejudices come alive with bands like White Rabbits. I can’t put a finger on why: They’re originally from Columbia, Missouri, hardly a mecca for cool, and seemingly far enough from Brooklyn to avoid the spread of hipster swine flu. But the Brooklyn bug bit these boys, and quicker’n you can drain a can of PBR, they’ve packed the U-Haul to Greenpoint to write songs about the Long Island Sound.
And yet, here I am posting their video … because it’s good. I know, I’m self-defeating at the best of times, inherently contradictory at the worst, but I got sucked in by their pretty superior 2007 Daytrotter set, and now I find myself - gasp - a fan.
That’s not static, that’s cicadas. And those are, in fact, screams. The pool at dusk in August.

Pretty sure Ripper was the perfect role for Sterling Hayden; atonement of sorts for his HUAC appearance. Kubrick made a good pick.

Golly, I wish “America’s Sistine Chapel” weren’t all the way in Carthage, MO, or I would be there. Seriously, NOW.
I was assembling a mix playlist (is that a term? It used to be mixtape, then mix CD, but mix playlist sounds so … forced) for a family beach trip and found myself craving, not all that unusually, Squeeze.
Up came “Another Nail For My Heart,” and I was struck, for about the 400th time, about how perfect Glenn Tilbrook’s solo is. Not only is it flawlessly played, but he uses not an ounce of distortion to accommodate any smeariness, and it’s the very definition of tasteful.
“Tempted” and “Is That Love?” always seem to ride high on everyone’s best-of lists (don’t get me wrong, they are both phenomenal - for my money, “Tempted” may be one of the world’s few perfect pop songs, and it doesn’t even feature Tilbrook on vocals), but I’ve always had a soft spot for this one. It’s brilliant.
ANOTHER NAIL FOR MY HEART - SQUEEZE (via FRANZ4EVA)

Stunning Jar-Jar Binks soft-focus effect. Enhanced mightily by the Hasselhoffian Tufty peeking (raging?) out of his tank top.
Um, well done, Bill?
Son, You Got A Panty On Your Head (via Bill Adams)

