Albums for Eternity with Bottle, the Curmudgeon

3 o'clock is probably too early for my official new year's post, but i am a curmudgeon so sorry, not sorry [winky face]. Alright Mastodon, usher in this next trip 'round the sun.  Some truly amazing things happened in 2021. First, we'll get me out of the way. I published 3 books this year, and many of you have physical copies of them. That's just a thing i decided to do back in 2020 and i made it happen so you could see the whole thing take place. I also massively expanded my record collection, bought an electric piano and made an EP with it, and had wonderful conversations with old and new friends who i can't physically go hang out with in the real world.  Speaking of friends, my friends made tons of new music this year. Dave published Architectronics, Steven put out tons of new music as Noonish Moon and started a really funny Tiktok series, i met Gerard because i randomly heard his songs and interview with Josh on the radio, Kris is out there busier than ever

Tomorrow has its own album, like every other holiday, so tonight is the last album of 2021. I think we can all agree that while not particularly great, it was a tangibly better year than 2020 (if you squint just right). So, even though i know i'm going to regret it, we're spinning the second volume of greatest hits by the Rolling Stones. Quick glance at the track list... yes, these are exactly all of my favorite Rolling Stones songs, what the hell did they publish for the first volume? But more important, will i hate the experience of actually listening to it as much as i hate every actual Rolling Stones album?  I don't know if I just have really fresh ears, or if it's a legitimate fluke, but Paint It Black sounds lovely; exactly as i expect it to sound. Oh good, pure misery ensues after that. First, left and right channels are not the same volume. Trust me, i flipped my headphones around at least 4 times across Side A, the stereo channels are definitely normalized to d

Today i think i'm going to be a very specific kind of annoying person, and pedantically dissect In The Morning of the Magicians.  The book Wayne is referencing is a favorite among conspiracy theorists, new age weirdos, and occult leaning axis aficionados. It is a somewhat intentional experiment in cognitive dissonance, what with its prehistoric astronauts and Lovecraftian similarities. That's not really important, we're interested in defeating the pink robots. As he describes it, the song is a deep consideration of love and hate: if you feel loved then you are loved, but where is the proof?  There are a couple really tricky ideas in the lyrics (and my wink wink nudge nudge friends will no doubt intuit that it's the same kind of nuance i think leads everyone to misunderstand Marx) that we need to put under the microscope. First thing's first, we have to unpack all the contractions.  "In the morning i'd awake, and i couldn't remember"  Couldn't i

Oh the left kind of people are the right kind of people with the right kind of people jumping through the loopholes...  EO: merry day after Christmas, Bottle.  B: merry day after christmas to you too!  E: you sound suspiciously happy.  B: that's because you're suspicious. You should be, of course, but not to the point where you lose objectivity and argue for the opposite of what you actually want. What do you want, Skip?  E: i... uh... ummagumma, i don't know.  B: great!  E: it doesn't feel great. It feels terrible. I hate it.  B: then stop not knowing what you want. Here, i'll give you an example. I'm remembering the future when you give me a Boxing Day present and i'm super happy because it's music and i get to listen to it. It could be great, it could be terrible, but in my experience nothing is as terrible as people say it is or think it will be. I want to move past that, not dwell on it. So, i do what i have to do and then enjoy it. I also want to f

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas.  The first time around we listened to my original concept album version of Jesus Christ Superstar. The second time around i chose to go down Marty Friedman's New Age hallway instead. This year, Awesomelady McBottlesmom threw down the gauntlet and dared us all to be stupid.  I'll accept that dare, and i'll let Madam Coincidence body slam all challegers by listening to my small but mighty Weird Al collection which begins with said 1985 album Dare To Be Stupid and ends up at the very last song of Bad Hair Day chronicling The Night Santa Went Crazy. Yeah, that's a real thing i noticed after i decided to do it. Am i good, or am i in the bizarre position of looking like i did it on purpose? The world may never know.  Here's the thing about Weird Al, he is literally the only person who can be Weird Al. We all sing funny lyrics to songs, people parody things all the time, but Weird Al is so good at it and so funny that he won

Hello, friends. Compy here. While Bottle's doing his Frank Sinatra impersonating the Burger King impression (having Christmas his way), the r3st of us here at Bottle of Beef wanted to extend our best wishes this holiday season by assembling a few of our favorite Bottlisms. So, here's your Christmas Eve present in no particular order: - Who says you're not allowed to suck, and why am i not allowed to enjoy it? - What good is winning if you still have to sit in the same room with all the losers? - This all sounds suspiciously like a group of people who aren't friends anymore. And last but not least, the quintessential question resonating through the universe, asked in every possible way with every possible inflection and accompanied by the smirkiest of smirks, completely off-kilter on every occasion: - What the hell am i listening to? Don't tell him, but we got him a present with his name on it, properly spelled in all caps just the way he likes it:

On the second day of Bottlemas the Momler sent to me, a Joe Bonamassa CD.  Tour de Force: Live in London at Royal Albert Hall, to be exact. He was a legit child prodigy and was gigging by the time he was 11, toured as the opening act for BB King when he was 12, and puts out all his music on his own label.  This series is mildly insane. It's 4 concerts at 4 venues with different personnel and slightly different set lists published as a complete 7 hour audiovisual boxed set and independently as videos and recordings and a book. If you thought MC5 was decadent back in the day, this is a ridonculous chronicle of his entire career from a small 3 piece band in a smoky club, to a full Blues band with horns, to a rock-star wankfest with opening acoustic set, to this acoustic/electric greatest hits extravaganza. Am i being unfair with my not subtle snidish dog-fart nose crinkle? Yes, of course, that's what i do. I'm probably going to love it if i ever shut up long enough to start li

B: alright, look. I did the first one in good faith. I made a valiant effort on the second one before intentionally picking a different hallway. This year we do Christmas my way.  E: what does that entail, exactly? B: first i'm gonna brew up some some of this Venom from Mean Bean Coffee Company in Edmond, OK. Then i'm gonna pour it into this really nice insulated stainless steel mug with a silicon lip that someone clearly misspelled "Bottle" all over, and then we're gonna do the Mombums of Bottlemas (the 3 random albums my mom bought me, she's pretty awesome). Ooh, delightful. I haven't had good coffee in quite a while, so my palate is in very bad shape. I definitely get apple, though, it's unmistakable. Now we listen to them in the order they were opened, and first up is Ghost's Prequelle.  Not gonna lie, i've kinda always agreed with Kerry King in that i love everything about ghost except the actual songs i've heard. Totally not fair, so

S: Gladys, i'm worried about Bottle. G: Deary, dear. That's not true at all, now is it? You're worried about the parts of you that depend on Bottle. S: What?! How can you- G: Missy, don't you start with me, i was old and mean before you were even a clump of spit and stardust. Like i've told you a thousand times, you can't predict the future if you don't even know which hallway you're following. Now, close your eyes and imagine everything is opposite. How did we get here and where has it led? S: Deja vu. We've been here before. And he fell through the hole in his own pocket and oh... i think i know... G: Flip that around... S: oh, oh! I know, i know! I know what album we'll listen to tonight. Yes, i'm sure of it. G: Good, now just you worry about you. Bottle takes care of himself, and you can't help by taking that away from him. You help by doing what you do.... [Meanwhile, in Bottle's office] B: [thud] why do i keep waking up

It occurs to me that there is a significant difference between "individuals own the means of production" and "an individual owns the means of production."  The former would imply that each person has the means and knowledge to produce what is needed and exchange it with others for mutual benefit. This is, i think, what most Americans have in mind when they think of what America calls Capitalism.  The latter, however, appears to be the prevailing reality in which an individual controls not simply his own life and labor, but the entire economic life of a community. In short, a monopoly, a monarchy, a dictatorship. This is obviously what most people find unacceptable and oppressive.  I'm reminded of the story of Putin's car. Not that this has anything to do with Putin, i just recently came across it and it's just a good illustration of the dynamics at play. After he left the KGB and the Soviet Union collapsed, Putin owned a personal car. In addition to driv

I've been here many times before, and nope i have no idea just what to do. I'm not at all happy i experienced today. What's going on is that i'm just gonna listen to this ingeniously titled greatest hits of hippy Leftist Lumpenproletariat who don't care much about violent revolution, they mostly just want to be left alone to live their lives in peace, helplessly hoping to raise their children and not get shot by the National Guard for protesting expanding our engagement in a proxy war not officially called a war.  May i have some of those purple berries?

Today we're fully enjoying both kooky albums from doubleVee  (Allan and Barb Vest). If Pop-cabre were a genre, that's what i'd call it. I'm a huge fan of Starlight Mints so it's pure delight to hear Allan's eclectic orchestration and downright catchy melodies in any context. Give  The Moonlit Fables of Jack the Rider and/or Songs for Birds and Bats a listen and tell me what you think. Doublevee.bandcamp.com

B: Hey guys, guess what? I started a group on facebook. S: chocoholics anonymous? E: the non-ideologically aligned lefty anarchist's soup recipe club? C: the John Candy appeciators club? B: canadian national treasure, if you ask me, but no. My epic imagination muscle had a cramp, so it's underwhelmingly titled Bottle's Album Club, but my real friends all joined, so raspberries to you guys. What should we listen to to kick it off? S: Bottle, honey, we don't actually care. C: i care a little, but not enough to pick an album. B: harsh. what is wrong with all of you? Fine, i've been meaning to check out Pearl Jam's latest album, Gigaton. Here we go. Off to a great start. Op! I found Waldo. See, Eddie Vedder has this interesting habit of pronouncing random words wrong on every album. Right in the middle of Superblood Wolfmoon, the word is "danger" but he is clearly saying "deenger" with a hard G.  First 3 tracks are fantastic brain bashing rock

And just when you least expect it, i'll pull it out and you'll all knowingly wink because you're in on it. Did you forget? I specifically told you don't forget. What am i going to do with you guys? I give up.  As is often the case, i coincidentally ended up ending this batch of records acquired when i had to go have my tooth removed, no that's not right, oh yeah when i finally decided i couldn't expound upon Marx any more than i already have, on the night of a major storm. Uncanny. Even better, it's The Magic Garden, the sophomore concept album from the 5th Dimension. With the exception of one track left over from Up Up and Away, it's a semi autobiographical tale about Jimmy Web and Susan Horton. Spoiler alert, they eventually break up. The allmusic review is harsh. It basically says "Nick Drake loved this album, so a bunch of Nick Drake fans are gonna buy up all the used copies and return them a few days later." Oof, heartless. I'm still o

Little Baggariddim, not to be confused with the actual LP Baggariddim or the 2021 Bigga Baggariddim, is a UB40 EP featuring 2, count 'em 2, versions of the mortal Sonny Bono classic I Got You Babe. Sorry, that was uncouth. I'm dropping Ms like Rik Ocasek now. See how i borrowed the "im-" for the next sentence. How droll of me.  People often say UB40 and The Specials are the same band, but other than being from the same place and time, both mixed race bands expressing Socialist views at a time when conservative racist policies were rising to political power, and not at all beating around the Thatch about it, i disagree. The Specials merged Punk and Ska to create Two-Tone while UB40 is straight Reggae/Dub. Image-wise similar, music-wise incredibly different.  I don't think any sane person is gonna run out into the streets or the rooftops to loudly pretend that I Got You Babe is one of the greatest songs a human brain ever wrote, but i definitely like this version wi

The state of Iowa considering legalizing online gambling is an interesting question because of the nature of gambling itself. A casino, like any other business, follows probablistic rules to slowly generate profits for the owners of the casino by providing entertainment. That's what gambling is. That's what any economic system attempts to do: redistribute money from one sector to another.  The question is what happens to this accumulated profit? I don't mean the day to day or month to month revenue, i mean the gradual draining of the surrounding area's savings/money supply. Hypothetically, let's say the actual yearly net profits after payouts and operating expenses amounts to a million a year. If that surplus really is gone forever, then the entire rest of the state money supply decreases by a million a year and all other sectors must increase an equal aggregate to prevent the state of Iowa from going bankrupt. The problem is that that's as far as we can hypothe

You know what doesn't have war or death or exploitation or economics? The Cars' sophomore album Candy-O. It doesn't have some important letter Ms either, and that needs some explanation. I'm absolutely convinced he meant "cadmium car" in Shoo Be Doo and "germanium lover" in The Dangerous Type because i don't think "cadium" is actually a word at all and she definitely doesn't seem like the kind of girl who waters the "geraniums" on her front porch. This album is about a pinup girl named Candy-O who loves cruising around looking for nighttime excitement in her futuristic and definitely made out of metal automobile, leaving Rik to desperately try to keep up. They scrapped all the leftovers from the first album and said "maybe let's tone down the multi-tracked vocals and over production for this one." It's thin and quirky, youthful but not juvenile. A lot of people didn't like it, but more people did and

B: Hahahahaha! Wowzers, that's a title. I just love Billy Joel, i didn't think it would be relevant.  S: a strange and complicated man once told us "it's all relevant."  B: i'm not complicated, ideas are. But it is true that it depends on which hallway you're walking. We tripped over Gorbachev and now here's Billy Joel's critique of the Reagan Era, very pointedly titled The Nylon Curtain.  Did you know this is his favorite of his own albums? He put way more effort into this one than anything before it. A motorcycle crash was involved, but that's less important. The album itself is a collage of criticisms surrounding the death of the American Dream, summarized here as the assurance of a life as good or better than your parents had, you know work hard and prosper. Even a poor scholar of Vulcan logic can tell you it sure don't look that way when the steel mills are closing, men and women can't seem to love each other, Vietnam Vets are just

Welp, i tried. I really did. But arguing is the least productive human activity and i'm a lean into it kind of guy, so guess we're going to listen to the entire For Those That Wish To Exist album by Architects while synopsisizing the conceptual problem we're having living in the middle of the story Marx used to explain the entire history, present, and future of humans. You see, you can't actually argue for or against Marxism without accidentally folding through the 4th dimension and becoming Marxist. The harder you argue the more Marxist you become. We all fall in parallel.  Why did this coincidence happen? I dunno, Madam Coincidence does what she does. Dan Searle says "this album was me looking at our inability to change to a way of life that would sustain the human race and save the planet...." Looking in the mirror, personal responsibility, the culture of "wanting someone else to deal with it." See? Creepy isn't it? I'm putting no effort i

Good lord, seriously? "Unvaccination" remedies? I just can't even. All i wanted to do after last night of no power in an ice storm during potentially our last weekend inventory was enjoy a random stack of new old records. I've tried to end the Marx thing like a thousand times, but here i am holding UB40s 4th album, and it's an album of covers called Labour of Love. Why can't i stop waking up every morning?  Now, this might come as a real shock, but UB40 has been known to express a leftist opinion or two. They wanted this to be their first album, but the label said no. Now here they are with the label demanding another album like they're a hot commodity or something. UB40 has a stable lineup and tangible success for close to 30 years, but i need to go check something, be right back... yep, their 8th album is self-titled. Ridiculous.  Also ridiculous, Communism only exists in the future. Saying The Soviet Union was a Communist Nation is absolute nonsense. Wh

We're gonna have to skip the album review tonight. I know, i know, you're all heartbroken, but 1) i'm working on a massive secret chapter about shipping insurance for the 4th book, and 2) my brain has been singing "dead butterflies" for several hours. Send your hate mail to Architects, it's their fault. S: Bottle, i think you have a serious image problem. You're so angry about everything.  B: that's the real problem, i'm not angry. You, not you specifically Sandra, i mean the rhetorical you, think i'm angry, you think i hate everything, you think i'm a Communist, you think i'm out to destroy the world, you think i should do this or that. Where in there do i get to say anything? In fact, when have i ever done that to anyone? I say "i can do this, i can't do that, if i do that then this might happen and everyone will be unhappy so here's how i have to prevent that." I'm not sitting here waiting for someone to give me