Desert Island Discs

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This is more for my own enjoyment than anything else. This entire blog is for my own enjoyment, for that matter. If anyone derives any pleasure from these self-indulgent posts, then…well…that’s on you.

The Clash.

The Clash.

We used to play this game all the time when I worked at WBRU Fm in Providence, Rhode Island in the early 1990’s. It would start with some basic questions: “What’s the best concert you ever saw?”, “What’s the first album you ever bought?” After some rocket fuel had been ingested, we’d blast off into questions of an obscure nature:

Q: “What’s the best concert you saw from which you expected nothing?”

A: INXS after their arena days were over (post-Kick) at Paradise in Boston, 1993. There was maybe 500 people in the house.

Q: “Worst concert with the highest expectations?”

A:  Happy Mondays in Boston 1992. I think Shawn Ryder actually sat in front of the drums for 30 minutes before they drifted off. I paid $40 for that ticket. (note: If someone asked me this today the answer, hands down, would be Bob Dylan in Omaha, 2007. I walked out.)

“When did punk music start?”

A: Britain, 1976. Sorry fans of The Ramones, Jonathan Richman, and Velvet Underground. I would however, give an honorable mention to Iggy Pop.

And on and on it would go… If you saw High Fidelity with Jack Black and John Cusack, you know what I’m talking about.

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But the most important list of them all was the Desert Island Disc List. If you were washed up on a deserted island and only allowed 10 albums, what would you bring?

This leads to logistical questions, of course. Presumably, you would have no ability to leave this island or reach other humans, but you would have a portable stereo system with enough battery power to last long enough to listen to said collection. Perhaps these items, as well as your discs, would wash up on the beach in some FedEx boxes along with a volleyball.

Here is my self-indulgent list. Wait…wait…some rules first. We always had rules!

No greatest hits or compilation albums allowed. No soundtracks. No pretentious prog-rock bullshit that your friend, brother, cousin told you was mind blowing (read: Can, Captain Beefheart).

Dark Side of the Moon, Exile on Main Street, The White Album or Sgt. Pepper, Pet Sounds, any Zeppelin, any Steely Dan is/was banned for being cliché. And no, you can’t list some fucking Grateful Dead bootleg of a show in Cincinnati in 1974 or some wildcard like that.

Bowie was never allowed because one guy loved Bowie (in an almost unhealthy way) and we banned Bowie just to piss this guy off.

Now, rap presented a conundrum… Ah, yes, hip-hop albums were set as a bear-trap in the underbrush for the uninitiated parlor game player. You disagree and you are a racist. You emphatically agree and you look like you’re trying too hard. Invariably someone would throw in a Public Enemy reference or maybe NWA. I think they never actually loved the albums that much, but it made them sound culturally wise. Best to remain agnostic on the topic and move on.

As you can plainly see, with one exception, my list is stuck in the late 80’s to mid 90’s. These were years during my impressionable youth, and naturally when my brain had been most pliable. Neurons had been programmed towards the north of England. As a teenager, I must have identified with the post-industrial cynicism of Thatcherite Britain. This is an obvious choice for a middle class boy from Omaha. The parallels are uncanny.

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Metal Box

Here we go then…

  1. Public Image Limited – Metal Box.
  2. The Fall – Wonderful and Frightening World
  3. Elvis Costello – Imperial Bedroom
  4. Joy Division – Unknown Pleasures
  5. The Jesus and Mary Chain – Psychocandy
  6. Radiohead – OK Computer
  7. Arctic Monkeys – Favourite Worst Nightmare
  8. Massive Attack – Mezzanine
  9. The Clash – Sandinista
  10. Wire -154

Whoa, you say. Sandinista? Not London Calling? Yes, my friends. London Calling is pretty polished for all the talk of how innovative they were  in 1979 (sorry, ripping velcro to sound like fire is not really experimental it’s just screwing around in the studio). Sandinista is full of dub experiments, reggae, occasional pop, and biting sarcasm. The Clash had discovered New York City and some of the hip hop elements started trickling in.

No Smiths? Nay. Meat is Murder gets an honorable mention. Hatful of Hollow is one of the first albums that blew my mind. But I never got the “Best Smiths Album Ever” title bestowed on The Queen Is Dead. Vicar In a Tutu? Please.

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Albums that slipped off the list from earlier times: Happy Mondays, Pills and Thrills sounds slightly comedic upon today’s listens. The Mondays’ “Madchester” peers Inspial Carpets’ album Life aged much more nicely.

New Order’s Love Vigilantes fell off the list. The frog sounds on Perfect Kiss are a little too gimmicky in hindsight. What about Power, Corruption, and Lies? No argument there…should be on the list.

REM’s Reckoning was and is a masterpiece. It fell off the list by sheer association with their later efforts. Shiny Happy People sullies the catalog beyond repair.

No Jam? Not even Modern World? Sorry, as much as I like the Jam, none of their albums can sustain 45 minutes of ecstasy. Paul Weller’s first solo album, however, now that’s a solid record from top to bottom.  

What’s on your playlist?

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