Tracklist
01. Johnny Socko – Long Live the Dead Guy
02. The Swingfield Big Band – Big Noise from Winnetka
03. Presidents of the United States of America – Cleveland Rocks
04. George Carlin – Fuck Mickey Mouse
05. Figrin D’an and the Modal Nodes – Cantina Band
06. Sum 41 – Fat Lip
07. Bing Crosby – White Christmas
08. Nobuyoshi Sano – King
09. Squirrel Nut Zippers – Sleigh Ride
10. Gorillaz – Clint Eastwood
11. Beck – Where It’s At
12. Matt Uelmen – Tristram
13. Reel Big Fish – The Setup (You Need This)
14. Blizzard Entertainment – The Twelve Days of StarCraft
15. Tower of Power – What Is Hip?
16. Weezer – Hash Pipe
17. The Vogues – Five O’Clock World
18. John Williams – Ewok Celebration
01. Johnny Socko – Long Live the Dead Guy (Oh, I DO Hope It’s Roast Beef!, 1995)
I don’t know, ska, why don’t you just write better songs? SONGS LIKE THIS ONE HOLY COW.
This is one from my brother’s folder that he insisted I try, and I’ll be thanking him for it until the end of our days. He knew I liked ska, but he’d already been there and back, and for his money, the best ska was Johnny Socko’s Oh, I DO Hope It’s Roast Beef! I’m inclined to agree, specifically regarding this record. Their albums before and after this one, while still good fun, are just more of the old ska formula. I don’t know if something happened or if this was a conscious occurrence, but the songwriting on Roast Beef absolutely clowns on everything else they’ve ever done. The melodies, the lyrics, the composition, everything here points to a deliberate attempt at a higher standard. This may explain a light tracklist of just seven songs weighing in at 30 minutes. No minute-long bits of filler, no hidden tracks, just seven hot cuts and get out already. But if I start elaborating on my love for this album, we are in deep doodoo, so let us narrow the lens to the song which began this love.
It starts with a brass riff in F minor, goes for about five measures, then suddenly drops that riff to the actual key of E minor. Or maybe it starts in the VII chord and just changes to the I? My grip on music theory remains largely theoretical. Anyway, my theory teacher always said “theory is what you hear,” and I hear a ska band actually trying to be creative with their work. The brass riff is eventually answered by a low, brief trombone solo. A solo! Before the singer even starts! When he does, it becomes rapidly obvious that he, Michael Wiltrout, is actually a singer. Not a growler, not a guitarist with a passable voice, a singer in control of his voice.
And Michael’s not the only guy pulling his weight. That would also be every other person in the band, thank you very much. Nobody’s screwin’ around here. The drums lock the tempo in four open hi-hat hits and together with the bass completely hold the floor for the entire song with the perfect balance of flair, fluidity, and consistency. Both are able to showboat comfortably in their own space without ever losing a beat. So does the guitar, too, which really is more of a rhythm instrument in ska anyway.
The horn parts here are actually tame for this album. They stick to unison lines which usually bore me to tears. These are three different voices, ska. Are you really just going to make them say the same thing at once? Even when Socko does, they don’t. The first little interlude after the coda is only sax and trombone. Leave out the trumpet because why not? It mellows the sound. Nothing wrong with mixing it up, ska, even just a little.
The form is fun, too: intro > verse > chorus > post…chorus > verse > post verse > chorus > bridge > verse > chorus > post verse > coda. Seven unique and original parts. The usual parts fall in a usual order, sort of, with the other middling sections scattered around or reprised to keep things interesting. If you don’t find the proletariat chant of “post verse” utterly glorious or at least interesting, it may be time you find a new blog, and maybe some new ears while you’re at it.
And at last, the coda. A slow, swelling accelerando poco a poco etude that the entire band holds together flawlessly until it comes to a full stop in perfect unison. Cap it off with a funny sample dialogue clip from god knows where and you’re done, best song on best ska record, get out already.
Uuughh. I’m pushing 800 words and I don’t think I’ve come close to a coherent, comprehensive statement on why this song belongs in your life. I’ve been trying to write about the album for years, and I can’t ever nail it down, despite having heard it many, many times. How could I not? There’s just so much to listen to. I guess that’s what I really want from ska. I want the party, sure, I want it a little funny and good-natured, but most importantly, I want it put the hell together. I want intelligent design. I want something to really listen to. Is this an unreasonable standard? Do I need to come down already, or am I forgetting somebody else up here?
02. The Swingfield Big Band – Big Noise from Winnetka (???, ????)
I had a hard time sourcing this one. Shazam pointed me to a 2013 album from the Swingfield Big Band. The Youtube link supports this theory, but it doesn’t explain who recorded this version 12 years prior. I should care, but instead I do not.
This was a short-lived song in the stand tune playlist, and thank goodness. We already had our swing song in “Pachuco” and the band arrangement of “Winnetka” was dull and overlong. I don’t remember anyone really digging it, including myself, so what possessed me to put it on a Brick album escapes me to this day. It became an auto-skip weeks (if not days) after I burned it.
These days I like my big band like I like my cars: fast and Japanese.
03. Presidents of the United States of America – Cleveland Rocks (Cleveland Rocks! Music from The Drew Carey Show, 1998)
I was really into The Drew Carey Show for a while there, probably due to the rising popularity of Whose Line Is It Anyway? I had a VHS with a couple episodes of the former and one of the latter taped to it, and I ran that sucker ragged. The fervor with which I enjoyed the show before suggests I should avoid it today. Going to trust my instincts on this one.
It’s not a bad song. It comes on strong, a little bit cheesy, but it’s a party song, y’know? A get up and party song. Nothing wrong with a big GET UP AND GO PARTY WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO, but I don’t live in Cleveland, and I don’t even think my own hometown “rocks,” so it’s kinda hard to join the vibe, y’know? New Orleans is close to my hometown, so I could do “I Wish I Was in New Orleans,” but that’s really more of a DRINK UP AND FALL IN A DITCH PARTY WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOoooooohhhhhhhUuuuuUUUUUUGHHhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.
I’ve never been to Cleveland, but barring Drew Carey and the PUSA (as I’m told they’re called), I’m not sure the consensus weighs in its favor. If anyone’s gonna talk me into Cleveland, they’re gonna have to make their case with a funnier video. Good luck!
04. George Carlin – Fuck Mickey Mouse (Back in Town, 1996)
No Cure for Cancer was the first full stand-up special I remember watching, but thanks to my brother’s influence, some pieces of Carlin made their way to me before Leary. And really, I can’t think of anything better for the young boys and girls out there than a few minutes listening to old George spout off about big rubber dicks and tainted cheese. My grandfather swore, but nothing like this. Thanks, George, for your illuminating touch.
05. Figrin D’an and the Modal Nodes – Cantina Band (Star Wars, 1977)
I’ve been passing up this one over and over on the list as I write and rewrite the rest, but I can’t figure out why. I figured I could scrape up something about one of the biggest fictional bands out there, maybe get in a good riff or two about the kloo horn, but something’s holding me back.
Could it be that Figrin and co. were the Beatles of the Star Wars universe? Can we get some Wookieepedia experts in here, clear this up for me? Imagine that, a band SO HUGE that even in alternate universes that believe them to be fictional, unshowered bloggers are- wait.
Do you hear that? Let me check the front window.
Oh my god they’re actually here. WOOKIEPEDIA IS HERE. Oh no, oh jeez, oh f-
HEY GUYS, WOW THAT WAS FAST THANKS FOR COMING BUT LISTEN
YEAH, THAT’S…LOOK,
NEVERMIND GUYS, WE GOT IT, WE’RE GOOD. WE’RE GOOD! THANK YOU. NO NEED TO GET OUT OF YOUR CARS PLEASE. BLOG IS CANCELED, PLEASE GO BACK.
HAHAHAHA YEAH I KNOW!! HAHAHA IT’S OKAY THOUGH.
YEAH, OKAY! BYE GUYS! THANKS ANYWAY!
LOCK THE DOORS.
06. Sum 41 – Fat Lip (All Killer, No Filler, 2001)
HAT TIP TO MY BUDDY JEFF. Jeff got me into this song. My good friend Jeff. All Jeff. THANKS, JEFF!
Did anyone else catch the vague pedophilia happening in that video? I know this is the textbook “Look How Cool We Party” music video, so they’re just gonna pile on as much weird and/or goofy and/or edgy shit as they can, but…oof. Those girls had to be old enough to know better, just like I’m old enough to know better than having to settle for these rap-pop-punk skeezelords to get my rebellious fix. Not anymore, guys, thanks.
07. Bing Crosby – White Christmas (1945)
I don’t truck much with the sentiment of holidays, but I like Christmas. I like Christmas because I love the winter and will accept nearly any reason to celebrate it. It’s easy when you grow up in Dog Breath: The State, because then the idea of a White Christmas evokes images of being nestled with your true love inside a log cabin beside a fireplace, or perhaps just a nice coffee bath. It’s a fantasy, of course, and I try to remember that for many outside of Dog Breath: The State, White Christmas evokes images of having to climb into your car through the trunk to go to work because all other points of entry are frozen solid (sorry, Erin).
I’ve spent less than two weeks of my life in the snow since burning this song, so the White Christmas remains mostly a fantasy. Snow or no, I love the stillness and tranquility of a winter night, and Bing brings it all to me every time I listen to him. It may be all I have left, if we get another whimper of a winter like we did last year. Bah humbug!
I wonder if the Crosby estate could sue Microsoft for cheapening his name. I think it’s worth a shot.
08. Nobuyoshi Sano – King (Tekken 3, 1997)
What I love most about fighting games is not the competition. It’s impressive to behold, but I can’t mentally micro-calculate the pixel distance required to juke my opponent’s high kick so I can effectively abuse a hitbox vulnerability unique to that character in the quarter-second window of opportunity I created without leaving myself vulnerable to a recovery counter. No, leave me alone.
What I love about fighting games is not the story. They’re mostly the same: a Boss Character controls a Region and its Denizens. Said Denizens (and possibly those of neighboring Regions) are threatened by the Boss, who is due for a good downsizing. The Boss, sensing their hostility and being naturally overconfident, holds a single combat Tournament for any of the following reasons: a display of power, a recruiting program for his criminal organization, a way to single out his most dangerous opponent, a capitalistic endeavor, or even a cultural tradition. It’s a formula, one solid enough to build an entire genre upon. But it’s incomplete without the most important element: the Denizens.
What I love about fighting games is the roster. The cross-section of characters from all different places and walks of life, united by their strength as fighters. Each brings to the tournament her own fighting style, her own personality, and her own reasons to win. There is no single protagonist in a fighting game. The player chooses whose story they follow, whose destiny they fulfill. In Tekken 3, I chose King: a Mexican wrestler in a jaguar mask competing in the King of the Iron Fist Tournament to raise money for the orphanage where he grew up.
What Tekken doesn’t do as well as Street Fighter (whose absence from the Brick series confounds me) is characterize its fighters through stage and music design. In Street Fighter II, the godfather of fighting games, each character is given a unique “home stage” complete with its own theme music. Each stage and theme served to better illustrate the character to which it belonged. M. Bison, the Boss, fights in a great palace. Ryu, a loner, fights high in the mountains. Guile, a proud airman, fights on the landing strip in front of a big jet and all his Air Force bros. This being Capcom in the 90s, these elements of design were superb and helped Street Fighter gain its enormous following. (Guile’s theme in particular has enjoyed a rich retirement.)
This practice has sort of fallen to the wayside. Even in the Street Fighter series, unique character stages have been traded out for a random mix of a dozen or so generic locales with generic names. With more sophisticated platforms comes more sophisticated music, and in the case of fighting games, “sophisticated” apparently equals “big beat”. Slickly produced, high adrenaline power beats. Or something like that. I liked King’s theme because of the real fat bassline and the guitar riff. I still do, in fact, but it will never resonate with me like half the SFII soundtrack does.
The genre has grown up a bit, anyway. While these games still have stories, what preserves them is their competitive engine. Big beat goes better with the Mountain Dew and Doritos. Give the e-sports what they want, I s’pose.
09. Squirrel Nut Zippers – Sleigh Ride (Christmas Caravan, 1998)
Squirrel Nut Zippers have been somewhat unfairly tangled in the Swing Revival net since “Hell” took off. Although they actually cover an impressive range of genres, most of it is still revival of some sort, so it didn’t surprise me to see them ebb with the tide. I don’t know the Zippers like I know the Bosstones, though, and maybe that was the next logical step in my quest to find one artist that married my separate musical identities of Band Kid and Rock Disciple. I did not take that logical step in high school, though, and I have no earthly memory of how this version of “Sleigh Ride” fell into my hard drive. Not that I’m complaining; “Sleigh Ride” is one of my few favorites in the Christmas canon.
If I can’t have a White Christmas, I can at least have a Christmas party, and this the Squirrel Nut Zippers deliver at least as well as their skankin’ cousins. You can expect from them a more lush arrangement with solo trumpet, sax, clarinet, a piano, and a tenor ukulele, the sounds of which make me regret buying a concert uke nine years ago. (Monster hands favor a bigger fretboard, but I still refuse to learn guitar.) You can probably also expect to get weird looks in the room if you do start skankin’ to this. Like I said, this is revival all the way (starring Arnold Schwarzenegger and Sinbad), and this is a ritzy Christmas party I’m throwing here. Take your sweaty spaz limbs down to the Chinese buffet where Christmas is just another day.
10. Gorillaz – Clint Eastwood (Gorillaz, 2001)
“I listen to everything but rap and country”
“I listen to everything but rap and country”
“I listen to everything but rap and country”
“I listen to everything but rap and country”
But deep in their hearts they know they need it. I know I did. I’d only tried rap twice before.
First was this…
…which I’ll need bona fide therapy to crack. Batman Forever fandom was a fever dream I’d rather not relive.
Next was my brother’s copy of Ill Communications, I’d say around age 9 or 10. Unlike my brother I employed no tact whatsoever in consideration of our religious parents and played it way too loud, not at all considering that closing the door wasn’t enough to mute the sounds of “HURRICANE CROSSFADE OVER YOUR ASS AND BUST YOUR EARDRUMS” or “I’M THAT KID IN THE CORNER / ALL FUCKED UP AND I WANNA SO I’M GONNA” or even “I’M BUDDY RICH WHEN I FLY OFF THE HANDLE.”
So one day the reckoning came and Dad made a big scene of it, broke the disc in front of us and all. It wasn’t a declaration against rap specifically, but nobody ever came for my copy of Dookie, which I’d played many times before Ill Communications. Brother sold a swath of his most offensive CDs to take the heat off of him, then quietly returned to enjoying offensive music anyway. I dusted off my copy of Dookie and quietly returned to enjoying offensive music anyway. Just not rap. And not so damn loud.
It hadn’t occurred to me during my Musical Awakening that rap would come back to me, but Del the Funky Homosapien’s feature performance on “Clint Eastwood” struck instantly. For the first time, rap sounded and felt like poetry. Part of that was being a dumb white kid very new to the game, but without artists like Del willing to push boundaries and a project like Gorillaz to showcase their talent in a context more approachable for dumb white kids, it might have been a much slower road for me.
11. Beck – Where It’s At (Odelay, 1996)
Beck is an artist I have acquired in pieces. His discography resembles Frank Zappa’s: large and wildly diverse. (Not as large as Zappa’s, of course, but certainly not small.) These should be exciting reasons for a bored listener to dig in, but especially in the case of Zappa, you stand to lose a lot of time on puzzles you can’t solve. “Solving” a song is not always the point, however, and I think this is an irrational fear that has held me back as a listener.
Not the case here, of course. “Where It’s At” is supremely accessible and supremely weird. It’s built on a laid-back organ riff and a straight drum beat, it’s got a memorable chorus, but it’s also got spontaneous moments of sexy saxophone, unusual dialogue samples, and robotic drum breaks. Does it blend? Hell yes it blends.
There’s too much evidence in favor of me delving deeper into the Beck discography: his sound is all over the place, he’s got a balanced sense of humor, and when he’s on, he’s just unstoppable. Puzzles be damned; it might be time to take another dive.
12. Matt Uelmen – Tristram (Diablo, 1996/Diablo II, 2000)
What these chords do to a man…
Blizzard Entertainment is the blue shadow of death that looms over me every day. Even when I’m not actively playing any of their games, as has been the case lately (where do you think I got the time to write?), I am ever aware of them, abiding their cold patience until the next time I’m vulnerable to their spell.
For these truly are spellbinding games, and for me it all began with Diablo II. Really, truly my kind of game. Simplicity, replayability, polish. I don’t need a game with a tremendous amount of meat on the bone, and though the series seems to be fattening up as it goes, I’d rather not disclose the hours I’ve put into it. If I’ve taken one lesson from Diablo, it’s that evil never dies, only sleeps. I simply count myself grateful for writing here, writing now.
The Diablo music is moody, earthy, understated, and of course, very dark. These games are about delving unwelcoming depths. Even the theme music to your only sanctuary, the town of Tristram, seems to affirm that you are only relatively safe. Uelmen’s sparse arrangement and effective use of reverb make a chilling, unforgettable piece worthy of its status as the iconic Diablo anthem.
13. Reel Big Fish – The Setup (You Need This) (Why Do They Rock So Hard?, 1998)
I was cold on the Bosstones, and they were my Number One. What hope could there be for Reel Big Fish?
There was more hope back then, for sure. Where the Bosstones sometimes leaned grave and sober, RBF were party animals to the core, and as I transitioned through my brooding 8th grade to a better 9th grade, I think it was helpful to have a more cheerful flavor in my ska fix. They were “cooler,” too: they proudly sold out, they covered “Take On Me,” they were with Jive Records, for Pete’s sake! I also found this coolness sort of smug and hollow. Come on, were these even real band kids?
But this entire Bosstones vs. Big Fish argument is hogwash. The bands are quite different, and listening to one with the other in mind messes up the context. We were onto something in high school when the mantra was simply “LET’S PLAY SOME SKA!”
And if that’s your bag, brother, well. Here’s some hard rock with horns. I like the drum work. It’s a not-so-sappy love song that fits easily in a party band setlist. It’s catchy, but I do find it, yes, a bit hollow. Would’ve liked to have it on Turn the Radio Off, but I don’t think I could be arsed to explore any more Reel Big Fish in this lifetime.
14. Blizzard Entertainment – The Twelve Days of StarCraft (StarCraft, 1999)
In StarCraft I once again found myself attracted to the flavor of a game at which I indisputably sucked. This time it was the voice acting: each unit of your army said a line or two when you selected them and gave them orders. “Gimme somethin’ to shoot.” “My life for Aiur!” “Take it slow.” “POWER OVERWHELMING!” I rigged up no-lose maps just so I could sit there and pick every dude and see what they said. Most units have an “annoyed” dialogue that occurs when you keep clicking on them. My favorite will always be Samir Duran, who insists, despite your constant clicking, that his name is Duran. “Duran. DURAN!…What’s so funny?”
Blizzard have a notoriously overweight sense of humor, and, perhaps feeling a little jolly because of all the fucking money they made on StarCraft, cut their own version of the traditional holiday classic “Twelve Days of Christmas” starring twelve of the units from StarCraft. If you played the game you’ve probably already heard it and probably can recite it from memory to your own despair. If you didn’t, I don’t see this swaying your opinion on an old, old song that’s due for retirement.
I do still laugh at the archon losing his patience, though. Should’ve booked him a solo album, Blizz.
15. Tower of Power – What Is Hip? (Tower of Power, 1973)
Is this really acceptable context for a musical segment? My dimwit buddy came all the way to my office just to tell me he drew some shit on his arm. LET’S DANCE FOR THREE MINUTES.
I’m never watching this show again.
16. Weezer – Hash Pipe (Weezer, 2001)
My earliest Weezer memories go way, way back to the nights of watching 120 Minutes and Alternative Nation with my brother after our parents went to bed and before MTV ate through the earth beneath the bottom of the barrel to settle into new catacombs of self-disgrace. Somewhere in there I remember “Say It Ain’t So”.
But I was still just a little too young then to care that I’d just heard a rock and roll song I liked. Big deal. It’s a nice song, but where are the Power Rangers?
2001, on the other hand, was prime time to care. And care I did for this song, when I first saw it on, yes, MTV! This was before the internet had completely evicted television from my time budget. Had to keep my finger on the pulse somehow! And in the post-Revenge of the Nerds climate, it was encouraging to hear the pulse beating to the heavy hitting sounds of some sweater-clad regular lookin’ dudes singing about skating.
What’s so funny, guys?
17. The Vogues – Five O’Clock World (Five O’Clock World, 1966)
We conclude the Drew Carey trilogy with my favorite of the pop hits pilfered for the show’s title. It’s a good song by a group of singing men. Men in harmony don’t seem to command the respect they did in the days of Brian Wilson, probably because it’s a hard thing to coordinate without unmanageable amounts of alcohol.
Boys in harmony, however, we can’t seem to get rid of, and coping with them (and their fans) ironically requires unmanageable amounts of alcohol.
18. John Williams – Ewok Celebration (Star Wars: Return of the Jedi, 1983)
EVERYBODY HAVE FUN TONIGHT
EVERYBODY YUB YUB TONIGHT
Everybody knows “Yub Yub”, the Ewok tribal classic reserved for special occasions, such as when the teddy bear army foils a galactic oppression. Then George Lucas had to go and change it. Though I developed my Star Wars fandom during the Special Edition era, I’d already been initiated on the original trilogy. The inconvenient truth that 14-year-old Dane doesn’t want you to know is that as a dumb kid I didn’t care either way about the extended Jabba’s palace musical, the extra dewbacks, or even Greedo shooting first. I was most displeased, however, to be robbed of the righteous “Yub Yub”. It was traded out for some pan flute/recorder wiffy shit that belongs in Lord of the Rings. That’s why Star Wars sucks. See you next time!
It’s not perfect, but I’d still say Volume 5 is a breakout list for Mr. Brick. New genres, new bands, more interesting entries from previous categories. With two Star Wars, three Drew Carey, and three Christmas entries, it’s not exactly the most diverse, but the longer runtime makes it easier to pad that down. Anyway it’s rather obvious I burned this around Christmastime, so I think I get a pass on those. Even in the context of Christmas I divide the tunes nicely: one classic, one modern, one video game.
Is that right, only two video game tracks in the whole thing? Two and a half if you must count Starcraft. And not a single RPG in the lot! Nobuo’s reign ends!
This would be the part where I finally congratulate myself on reaching Johnny Socko, a band I have been dying to talk about since the pitiful collapse of Music Review March. I don’t know if I can ever tell you exactly how I feel about that record, though, so take my rambling gush as proof of concept and thank you for reading anyway.
Even with a few stinkers in the pot, I like the taste of this mix. Shows promise. Tastes like chicken.