Are You Loathsome Tonight?

I think I could put almost any modern country song here, as they are nearly all appalling. The dopey two-step beats, the horrible twang, the cowboy hat affectation, the utter lack of curiosity or twist in the songwriting – i.e. it’s funny that you love your country when you haven’t explored it beyond your barn.

Enjoy!

Creem Archive

Creem has archived every issue of its magazine and you can access it for free for a short time (the rest of the month, maybe?). It’s fascinating. I only remember reading a handful of issues back in the day. I think by the 80s it was mostly hair metal. The recent documentary was also really good.

Archive is here.

Parking Lot Movie

I really enjoyed this. Available for $0 on Amazon Prime. A great antidote to overhyped action hero fare, and probably the sort of thing someone who appreciates abandoned malls would like.

There’s probably nothing worse than poets working in parking lots.

Tyranol


Everyone’s wrong about something sometimes. That said, I’m glad I don’t need Tyranol.

They’re from WHERE?

While off down internet wormholes prompted by this blog, I ran across the horrible clickbait article “Best Band from Every State,” which is designed mostly to start fights. It caught my attention because the Boys of Beach, above, and as pictured in the article, might qualify for the California designation… but not without Brian Wilson, SMH.

Anyway, I learned a little band geography and will be curious to see everyone’s reaction. As the sometimes Pacific Northwest rep, I’ll say that they’re right about Idaho, glaringly wrong about Oregon, and a little off with Washington.

Little Douche Coupe

Crudely done, but some telling snippets from the luckiest mediocre singer to latch on to talented relatives.

Favorite comments:  “Pet Sounds was entirely my idea. I told Brian ‘write something brilliant and timeless, man’…so I deserve most of the credit”-Mike Love;  “I never trust a man with that many rings”;  “Mike Love, the original Douche Coupe”; “Mike Love, still dancing like your creepy uncle since 1961.”

Bull Island Soda Pop Festival

If you enjoy failed-rock-festival porn, check this out.  Apparently things got so dark that even the reigning Dark Lords of rawk and Satan’s representatives on earth, Black Sabbath, felt compelled to cancel.

For the Sophisticated Bastard

I had never seen a single episode of this show, and didn’t know much about it when some friends dragged me to the first movie.

It was glorious, I was crying within ten minutes, and felt like I got a workout from laughing so hard.