Boys Life - Apache
So, this is my last post for Listen.com. I figured I'd wrap this up with that staple of the nerdy music journalist: the year end list!
San Francisco
Boys Life - Apache
2000 Miles - Loquat
In Your Headphones - Dressy Bessy
Symptomatic - Hank IV
Didn't I? - Darondo
The House Under the Hill - The Finches
I Wanna Hug Ya, Kiss Ya, Squeeze Ya - Holly Golightly & The Brokeoffs
This Is Not a Song, It's an Outburst: Or, the Establishment Blues - Rodriguez
ILL Vacation - The Mighty Underdogs
Later On - The Spinto Band
So, this is my last post for Listen.com. I figured I'd wrap this up with that staple of the nerdy music journalist: the year end list!
2000 Miles - Loquat
I was in my car this morning, and the radio was turned to KFOG, the local AAA radio station. The morning host was going on about Los Lonely Boys' new Christmas album, and I thought, "Who the fuck is going to buy that?" And then I thought, "Who the fuck buys any kind of Christmas album?" I mean, I have to admit that they've gotten better in recent years. There was the John Waters Christmas disc, with rude and crude ditties like the Black Power anthem "Santa Claus Is a Black Man," and BADD Santa, Peanut Butter Wolf's collection of holiday rap, funk, and oddness (Bruce Haack is god). And, sure, I'd rather hear Sufjan Stevens, Willie Nelson, Weezer, the Hives, Lady Gaga, or Lemmy Kilmeister (see the recent We Wish You a Metal XMAS and a Headbanging New Year) yowl about yule logs when I go into a department store. But usually Christmas music seems to sap the good cheer out of the "most wonderful time of the year."
The Grammy nominations came out recently, and there were some big surprises. For instance, Pitchfork actually approved of many of the picks. Like Madonna getting the nod for best Kabbala chant, Gnarls Barkley scoring for best rap group adored by white college students, and David Sedaris being nominated in the new "funny guy who transcends his gayness so much that you can give his album to you grandma" category. Also, on the local front, Metallica was nominated for a bunch of things, including Best Vagina Album cover.
In Your Headphones - Dressy Bessy
More ways to
avoid that holiday shopping list...
Symptomatic - Hank IV
Ever wonder what it would've been like to live in Cleveland in the late '70s? Me neither! But I have wondered what it would be like to hang out in the "Mistake by the Lake" clubs of that era, when proto-punk bands like the Pagans, Electric Eels, Deadboys, and Rocket From the Tombs all rocked hard as trigonometry. And now, thanks to Hank IV, you -- and I -- can do just that, sorta.
Remember back in the early part of the decade when scratch DJs were all the rage? Wasn't that pretty ridiculous? I mean, people actually paid $15 to stand and watch a guy make a mess out of records they really liked. "Oh jeez, yes, finally, something I can dance to. No, wait, no no no, don't, you're murdering 'White Lines!'" Good times. 
Another sign that the recession has been going on a lot longer than a month: Two local record stores are going bye-bye. In fact, Open Mind Music -- which moved to Market Street a couple years back in the hopes of staving off extinction -- is already gone, having shuttered its doors last month. (The store will apparently sell its remaining underground hip-hop, freaky techno, and oddball rock at the Other Shop on Divisadero and online.) Now comes the news that the 24th Street location of Streetlight Records is going kaput after the holidays.Didn't I? - Darondo
On your mark, get set, go! The holiday party season is off and running. If you can't get invites to the Yelp party at the Exploratorium or the SF Weekly gig at the Aquarium, here's some other ideas.
The House Under the Hill - The Finches
There's a scene in the recent film Role Models in which a horn-dog convinces a woman to take a bunch of Ambien before having sex, because it's supposed to get really trippy if you can fight it and stay awake. This is kind of how I feel about the idea of seeing Palms on Saturday, after eating all the turkey day leftovers. Palms are pretty much the same band as the Finches, only with a different name. Confused? Me too! Carolyn Pennypacker-Riggs is still the main singer, but she's joined by a bunch of new folks (including Dear Nora's Katy Davidson), all of whom are listed as being in the Finches as well.
One time a few years back, I decided I was going to kick the post-Thanksgiving Tryptophan coma by shotgunning a few cans of Red Bull after devouring the turkey et al. If you're not into that kind of energy drink freakout (it does come with a nasty hangover), I suggest checking out Les Hormones on Saturday instead. The local trio -- featuring one hot lady and two hot gents -- infuses the typical garage-rock racket (see Crypt Records, Supercharger), with an added bit of French snarl. They've got one single out, on Head's Up Records, which has also released odd, scuzzy discs by lady vegetarians and King Khan's six-year-old daughter.For this show, they're joined by Personal & the Pizzas, a semi-local outfit that plays the kind of '70s punk that flirted with power-pop and didn't get it's ass kicked (see Milk 'n' Cookies, Hubble Bubble).
Les Hormones, Personal & the PIzzas, Wild Thing @ Hemlock Tavern on Saturday, November 29; doors 9:30 p.m., tickets $5.
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