Art Museum Soundtrack

By Jack Stephen

A vignette: I am at a roller-skating rink—the infamous Roll-O-Arena on Sunset Street in Longmont, Coloradro, circa 1984. Most Saturday mornings, this was the spot. I usually went with a buddy, and we haplessly scouted for the ladies. At one point, I would be in the snack area, eating a sleeve of popcorn with extra butter and sipping on a small Cherry Coke Icee. I hear the opening refrain of the song. I was pumped and hastily threw everything in the trash and hit the rink. I had to get out there and skate to this song! I was flying around the rink weaving through everyone doing a sort of dance skate move. This was when I first discovered what the phrase—“They’re playing your song”—meant. It was incredible. What song was it? “Funky Town” by Lipps Inc. 

Recently, I headed to the Denver Art Museum to check out the Camille Pissarro exhibit. What did I listen to? When I parked the car at the museum, it was “Anticipation” by the Bar-Kays. There is something about classic R&B—the funky, deep bass lines, the smooth crooning, and plenty of serious lyrics about getting busy in the bedroom. Nothing wrong with any of that.

The museum was freaking packed. Every ten minutes, a group of 20 to 30 people were let in.  For what is one of life’s easy pleasures, digging into a famous artist’s work and career, it was an exceptional exhibit. There were probably 80 to 100 pieces. Beginning with his start in what was the Dutch West Indies to finally an apartment in Paris, he was always a painter and a prodigious one. As he evolved into who became the father of Impressionism, I was especially struck as to how for a great part of his life he had problems with chronic eye infections. It sort of adds up as maybe he was also near-sighted. Also, not sure if they had optometrists back then? Check out an Impressionist painting, while it’s not difficult to argue the paintings are genius, it seems like these guys had some vision problems and maybe a lot of art patrons of the time did too. Get these artists some glasses! Pissarro later had eye surgery, sometime around 1890. Wonder what that surgery center looked like! Pissarro was clearly a once of a generation talent, who endlessly struggled with the everyday aspects of life, making sure the rent was paid and food was on the table. Nonetheless, he poured everything into his paintings. A great many of them depicted harbor, city, industrial, or farming scenes. He perfectly captures smoke wisping from a factory in front of an overcast fall sky at sunset and other things I never thought about. 

It’s especially insane how much failure he had to deal with: periods where he just couldn’t sell anything. He subsided in poverty for most of his life. He never wavered though, he woke up and painted every day. And even after losing thousands of paintings after his home was destroyed in the Franco-Prussian War, he was quoted as saying “sadness is eased by getting back to work.”

Bombing vignette I: I am driving with another comic down to Denver to do the New Talent Night on Tuesday at the world-famous Comedy Works. There is a pretty big mingle session before the show as any comic can put their name on the list and go up on standby. There’s about 30 comics hanging out. Around 7:20 PM, the New Talent Coordinator comes out and posts the set list. There’s 21 comics on the bill tonight, including 7 B sets, 6 C sets, and the rest are the A’s or the Pros. As I head back to the greenroom, I notice the crowd. It is pretty sparse, possibly due to the impending snowstorm. I’m going up at #14 as a B set, pretty deep in the lineup. I sit in the back and watch the others. The crowd is not where they should be for a Comedy Works show. Typically, they’re red hot, but this group felt lukewarm. Some comics struggled, and some did well. I was going to stick with my tight four-minute set. I hit the stage with a smile and a wave, grabbed the mic and settled in. I started slow, in my usual cadence, but I was a bit thrown, “That joke should get a bigger laugh,” I thought. Nevertheless, I tried to have a good time, or at least act like it. My facial expressions were not hitting like they should. My act outs felt more like gestures. I fell flat during my “legal weed” bit and decided to pivot and switch the closer. I saw the light, 30 seconds left. Don’t rush, I thought. I stayed for the set notes, the coordinator said I was getting more confident and looser. I need to figure out how to flirt with the crowd a bit, draw them in and get them on my side. I wrote this down. As my buddy and I drove out, we agreed that’s how it goes in the comedy game sometimes—even at one of the best comedy clubs in the world.  

What song was playing as people were being seated? “Sedona” by Houndsmouth.

This is one of those songs I would never play but hearing it doesn’t make me turn the dial. I am a pretty big fan of Sedona, the city that is. We snaked down from Flagstaff one time on a road trip to Los Angeles. My giant poodle, Mimi, had her head out the window panting hysterically the whole way down. I get that. It’s a stunning landscape. I went to a couple of the famous vortexes and tried to meditate. I don’t know if I did it right, but it sure felt cool. An energy vortex; think about it: a place on Earth where energy swirls, connecting to some sort of greater energy in the universe. I’m not describing it well, so head to Sedona and check one out. You’ll see what I mean. 

What I would have liked to hear? “Lola” by the Kinks. Why don’t the Kinks get more airplay?  This is something I’ve always found mystifying. Do a deep dive into their catalog, and you will be astounded. This song feels especially timely. It’s also time for a comeback perhaps? I guess the Kinks may have been overshadowed a bit by a couple of other giant English bands around the same time, namely, The Beatles and The Rolling Stones. While critics often noted the Kinks probably had better written songs, the compliment feels almost like a participation ribbon as far as the British Invasion went. The Kinks did get quite a bit of respect from other bands as can be seen in the vast number of Kinks’ cover songs by bands across the spectrum. I would say the “Where Have All the Good Times Gone” by Van Halen would be my top. But it’s not really the “vibe” they’re looking for while people are grabbing seats and drinks at a comedy club.

Bombing vignette II: I am walking down the stairs down to the Pizza Dungeon, as it is referred. It’s a Wednesday, and it’s the open mic at the Speakcheesy in Ft. Collins. On this night, it is a three-person audience, with about 20 or so comics milling around. I shoot the breeze with the gang, seeing what’s what. I got the call, I was going to be on deck, as they say. I had a new joke and a new opener I wanted to test out. I completely choked the opener. My five-minute set was actually going “not bad” considering the milieu and the new year’s hangover energy in the room. I got to the new joke, and I thought the premise up was solid, “white people will do anything to seem like they have a bit of street cred.” The only Black guy in the room yelled, “For sure.” I thought that was a good sign. The set-up was, “I like Law and Order SVU mostly because of Ice-T.” No response. “I’d like to see Ice-T in charge of the Epstein files.” Dead silence. I continued and tried to finish strong and went into my “hackey sack nut sack” bit. Finished okay. I got off the stage and wrote some notes. I thought to myself, “It’s 2026 and what the fuck am I doing.”

What I would have liked to hear when the mic wrapped up? “Different Drum” by Linda Ronstadt and the Stone Poneys. They had three acoustic guitars and a harpsichord, a heck of an idea for some instrumentation. Then there’s Linda Ronstadt on lead vocal. Pretty sweet lyrics, really hits home about the relationship I’m having with audiences these days. Great song. 

What song was good for the way home after bombing? “Baker Street” by Gerry Rafferty. This is quite the track, at least as far as 1970s airplay is concerned. Gerry was the main guy in the band Steelers Wheel. Their hit track “Stuck in the Middle” was featured in the film Reservoir Dogs where Mr. Blonde did a dance and cut off the cop’s ear (RIP Michael Madsen.) “Baker Street” is one of those random jams that somehow sneaks in on the FM classic soft rock playlists, and why not? I mean the saxophone coming in to boost the chorus always works as far as I’m concerned. He also had the great “Right Down the Line” song (Happy Valentine’s Day to the Mrs.!) with the exceptional enunciation of “WOH-MANN.” Both these tracks were on City to City, which hit number one in 1978. He ended up being another of those cool musicians who got taken out by the bottle.

I think my favorite painting from the show was the Parisian Boulevard with Snow. A really striking picture. Pissarro captures so much in what was just a brief moment in time. Towards the end of his life, he finally acquired an apartment in Paris and couldn’t be happier. He painted this piece from the window in his place, as he did throughout his career painting his neighborhoods.  It is pretty astounding the impact he had as the leader in the Impressionist movement. Cezeanne, Monet, Munch, Surat, Gaugin, Van Gough, maybe some Jackson Pollack, and many more owe their careers to his inspiration. He died in 1903. There were a number of significant paintings he did in the last year of his life; he just never stopped. If he could only see this scene today, hundreds and hundreds of people fawning over his work in downtown Denver, over 120 years after he passed.

What would be a good theme song for the exhibit? “Tokyo Rain” by Loaded Honey. This track is on their new album Love Made Trees. This group is a collaboration between a London musician and the singer from the band Jungle. Jungle is super cool—check out their song “Back on ’74.” “Tokyo Rain” is a song I’m a bit obsessed with right now; I like to think Pissarro would enjoy it as well. 

Crushing vignette: I was freaking. Tonight was my big 15-minute feature spot. I was super prepared and had memorized everything, but I was still concerned whether I would have enough jokes and enough time. I had my notebook and script at hand. But I didn’t want to look at it.  There is something about it that must be natural and not too rehearsed. I’m back in my hometown, Longmont, or Long Dong, as it is affectionally known. I thought I was going to be going up earlier, but when I asked the producer to see the lineup, I realized I was going to be featuring for the headliner. I’m hit with a little nervous jolt, but what does it matter it’s not going to change anything about my performance anyway? The room is tense as the comic before me gets a solid “fuck off” heckle from the back of the room after a fairly solid abortion joke. I am going to have to reset the room a bit. The host brings me up. I went up with no notes, had to be pro. I was relaxed in the moment without trying, I didn’t hold back either. I was myself. Crowd work nailed, pauses built the tension and the callbacks hit. I veered off my script, but it didn’t matter, I was in the zone and the audience was on my side. I’m the funniest guy in the world! It was incredible!

What was my walk-up song? “Cross the Tracks” by The JB’s. I caught Maceo Parker, circa 1996, at Antoines in Austin, right after my good friend moved down there. It was the old Antoines, not the new one on 5th Street or wherever it moved. I guess Clifford Antoine went to prison after being busted with a pile of weed back in the day, which helped lead to his notoriety.  Also, he booked some incredible acts, and in Austin, Texas, that’s saying something. Illegal weed in Texas has always been an excuse to keep someone down; whether it was their skin color or the music they played or both. (Check out the tale of Roky Erickson and the 13th floor Elevators.) Anyway, Maceo was a funk master just nailing all kinds of songs and what a variety.  He played on a De La Soul song—“I Be Blowing.” I really liked “Cross the Tracks” in the awesome film Snatch. The track drops as Sol and his crew arrive to attempt to rob a bookie—a hilarious scene. This song also set up my entrance to what I will now refer to as my first crushing. As I took the mic, they were playing my song.

For Tim Thomas of Babe the Blue Ox

 

By SoDak

There are always those bands that you hear about that you intend to check out, but for whatever reason fail to do so. Babe the Blue Ox is one of those bands for me. In the 1990s, I remember seeing a record or two, hearing they were good, but quickly forgot about them. Fortunately, this past year, this changed, when Five-Inch Taint and I got to see them open for Alice Donut. I was completely engrossed by their performance. While they had strong pop-sensibilities, their songs were very eclectic, with funky bass and percussive foundations, angular guitar parts, and complex timings. Both Tim Thomas and Rose Thomson sang lead and harmony vocals, adding a rich dynamic interchange and playfulness to their songs. Five-Inch Taint and I stood immediately in front of Rose, feeling the thump, pounding, and bounce of her bass parts. We felt the joy she had while playing. The percussion set up was captivating as Hanna Fox played on a kit, throwing down the beat, while constantly throwing in quirky parts with the shifting dynamics. Eddie Gormley stood up, playing an assortment of percussive toms, saw blades, bells, and odd fixtures. Tim masterfully explored the guitar, creating a wide range of experiences. His angular riffs were delightful. He brought the crunch as needed to add power, but he also included gentle, beautiful, finger-picked, and strumming parts. The whole band operated with exquisite precision. Their performance gave me goosebumps. Following this show, I managed to pick up all their 1990s records, which are strangely named after Barbara Streisand albums. Babe the Blue Ox remind me of Firehose, not as far as the specific sound, but regarding the creativity, innovation, abstract elements, and diversity of sounds within and between songs. Unfortunately, Tim recently died. By all indications, he was a generous and kind human being. He certainly created an impressive collection of songs with his bandmates. I am very glad that I finally got properly introduced to the band and experienced their live show. 

Reflecting on Midnight Oil and Rob Hirst (1955-2026)

By SoDak

My mother supported my musical addiction when I was young. She would regularly drop me off at Budget Tapes and Records, a small shop in the middle of Rapid City, South Dakota. While she sat in the car, reading a book, I would flip through the vinyl and then look at the cassette tapes. The import section was more of a miscellaneous grouping, as it had punk, metal, and new wave records that were from both domestic and international bands. In 1982, I had no idea who Midnight Oil were, nevertheless, I bought their record Place Without a Postcard (1981). I thought the cover was simple and interesting. I played the record over and over, entranced by the buzzing guitars, the vocals that sounded at times as if they were spit out, the way the songs would build into big choruses, the sharp lyrics, the range of songs and emotions, and brilliant drums. I was hooked. I loved bands that seemed like they were punk even if their music was not necessarily representative of that. 

When I had extra cash from delivering newspapers, I would pick up additional records by the Oils, starting with the two records from the 1970s. But it was the two records that followed Place Without a Postcard that blew my fucking mind. 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 (1982) incorporated synthesizers in an effective way. The melodies were stronger. The Oils could move from a slow song such as the opener “Outside World” to a rocker like “Only the Strong” effortless, building the emotional tension in a powerful way. The songs still had the aggression, anger, and frustration, while incorporating more beauty. The music was spacious and swelled with emotional weight. The whole record is excellent. “Short Memory, “Read About It,” “Power and Passion,” and “U.S. Forces” are favorites. At the start of “Read About It,” Rob Hirst starts off hitting the cowbell and then quickly sets the groove, as the jangly acoustic guitars join his drums, creating a captivating beat, as was so common with this band. Every time I hear this song, I can’t help but sing along.

The rich get richer, the poor get the picture

The bombs never hit you when you’re down so low

Some got pollution, some revolution

There must be some solution but I just don’t know

The bosses want decisions, the workers need ambitions

There won’t be no collisions when they move so slow

Nothing ever happens, nothing really matters

No one ever tells me so what am I to know

You wouldn’t read about it, read about it.

At that time, with the Cold War in full swing, Ronald Reagan pushing further military expansion, not-so-cold interventions, and nuclear supremacy delusions widespread, it was always refreshing to hear rock bands criticizing these issues. Midnight Oil actively participated in anti-nuclear campaigns. Their song “U.S. Forces” was one of the manifestations of this commitment, warning “U.S. forces give the nod/It’s a setback for your country/Bombs and trenches all in rows/Bombs and threats still ask for more/Divided world the CIA/Who controls the issue/You leave us with no time to talk/You can write your own assessment.” Hirst’s drumming is relentless, establishing the heartbeat and the foundation for most of their songs. At the same time, he brought finesse and mastery. On the “Power and Passion” these elements are captured with a wonderful drum solo. 

Most of the members of the Oils were songwriters, collaborating in various combinations, crafting their unique approach and sound. Hirst was one of the main contributors, penning beautiful, poignant songs. He composed many of the harmonies for the songs. On Red Sails in the Sunset (1984), he sang lead vocals on “When the Generals Talk” and “Kosciusko.” The latter song addresses the expropriation of Indigenous lands and environmental destruction associated with the colonial processes in their home country Australia. The drums are superb. Hirst’s lead vocals are powerful, complementing Peter Garrett’s vocals with emotional depth. 

While the Oils were constantly evolving, experimenting, and developing their craft, they were consistently extraordinary. They wrote intelligent lyrics directing attention to the world at large, making significant connections. They were also grounding, offering hope, noting the possibility for a better world. To listen closely, to immerse yourself in the Oils music can been weighty—it is a gift that should be taken for granted. Ever since I picked up one of their cassettes in 1982, they have been near and dear to my heart. I was ecstatic when they regrouped and recorded new music. (See the review Null and I wrote of their last record, Resist (2022): https://tickleyourtaint.blogspot.com/2022/04/midnight-oil-resist-sony-2022.html). When they announced their retirement from touring, they left open the possibility of continuing to record. However, I expect with Hirst’s death, there will not be any new music, unless they recorded some tunes over the last few years. I still need bands like Midnight Oil, especially given the state of the world. For now, I will keep listening to their records, while recalling the night Null and I went to Denver to see them perform, as we stood there singing along with giant smiles, both moved and happy. 

Jack Rafferty’s Favorite Music in 2025, Part 2

By Jack Rafferty

Die Spitz, Something to Consume (2025).

This one was definitely a bit of a curveball and a pleasant surprise. This band is swinging right out of the gate, that’s for sure. At times punk, at times sludge metal, at times grunge, and other times ethereal rock. Die Spitz says it best themselves in their bio, stating that “if the world of rock music were an ice cream shop, the Austin quartet have sampled each flavor, flipped the freezer over, and started dancing with the employees they helped unionize.” Some of their listed influences are the Pixies, Mudhoney, PJ Harvey, and Black Sabbath, and that honestly makes perfect sense, as I hear bits of each of them here.

The vocals are fantastic all around, as they swap between members, and it feels like all words spoken here are fightin’ words. I need albums like this, where the energy is about pushing back against the forces that want to enclose and alienate us, to tell us to stay inside, stay afraid, and work ‘til we die. The energy isn’t just in the music, though. I highly recommend watching their KEXP performance. Their passion is evident in how they perform.

There is quite a lot of maturity in their sound for this being their debut album. The performance is powerful and confident, and I feel like Die Spitz already have a good idea of who they are and what their style is. This album is a strong start, and I eagerly await to see where Die Spitz goes from here.

 

Bianca, Bianca (2025).

Another band I wasn’t aware of previously leaping out from the shadows of obscurity to the focal point of my listening this past year. This was one of the few albums that gave me chills when listening to it. It has a bit of Madder Mortem and Dreadnought in the sound. The singing is hauntingly gorgeous, and it juxtaposes the banshee screeches perfectly. I love the cover artwork by Dema Novakova, a simple yet stark nearly Baroque depiction of dead leaves that from a distance could trick one into thinking it is bloodstained flayed flesh. Bianca balances the ethereal and the brutal well, with atmospheric passages filled with haunting melody juxtaposed with screeching black metal wails and at times some disso-death sections. Everything blends beautifully and is executed brilliantly. 

 

Psychonaut, World Maker (2025).

I’ve only listened to Psychonaut here and there since they have been around. I decided to give World Maker a more in depth listen this past year, since there has been quite a lot of buzz about it, and man am I glad that I did so. This is a pristine prog metal album, with excellent songwriting. There is an ease with which the songs flow into one another, with so many captivating riffs and powerful melodies woven throughout. This album is dense in many ways, yet it never feels daunting or overwhelming to listen to. They also do a great job of balancing emotional weight with instrumental technicality. There are some sections bordering on indulgence, such as the lengthy guitar passage in “Origins,” but thankfully it does not overstay its welcome. The production here is also notable, as the sound is incredibly massive, but at no sacrifice to clarity. Much like what I enjoy about certain Mastodon albums, World Maker finds equilibrium between heavy elements and spacier, more atmospheric or even psychedelic ones. Definitely worth a listen if that is your thing. 

 

Poison Ruin, Confrere (2024).

I missed this release by the excellent crust punk band Poison Ruin last year. I fucking love this band and I loved their 2023 album, Harvest, so it was good to catch up and listen to this one. I resonate with Poison Ruin’s sound and aesthetic a lot. It has a mythic quality to it, amid all its medieval themes, the grimy sound, the simultaneous calm and aggression they exude. I am looking forward to finding some physical copies of their albums. I may just end up ordering some. Confere (latin for “comrade”) is largely about solidarity and its importance in the increasingly ruinous state of things. I love the representation of this in the cover art, with the hand of one holding on to another, assumingly pulling them up off the ground in an act of solidarity. The lyrics of the title track illustrate this theme well:

And if we can’t turn the tide

I’ll see you on the other side

Hard to try, it’s a fight to go on

A fight to believe it

Confrere, my comrade, my friend

Back to back until we reach the end

Confrere, reach through the dark again

My partner, my friend

Confrerе, I beseech you now to take my hand.

This album, like Harvest, fucking kicks ass. I love everything about it. I’d love to see these guys live sometime soon. 

 

Igorrr, Amen (2025).

I’ve been a fan of Igorrr’s endearing weirdness now for what is approaching a decade, which makes my stomach drop a bit when writing that down, as it really puts into perspective how quickly time is passing by. If you know Igorrr, you know what to expect at this point. 

Each new release seems to show Gautier Serre’s compositional ability refined, and Amen continues this trend. While the seemingly divergent genre elements of grindcore, edm, opera, symphonic instrumentation, and more are still present in stride here, they have nestled up to each other at this point, and feel more organically linked. 

I don’t think Serre has ever struggled to combine these elements, I feel it has taken time for them to feel fully at home in this unique sound and style. One note that is unavoidable is that I really miss the vocals of Laure Le Prunenec. Marthe does a great job here, but Laure is one of a kind and irreplaceable. 

While still bizarre, Amen has found the sweet spot of not being overly so to the point of distraction here. The songwriting is tighter, the progression feels earned, without sacrificing the zaniness that ultimately makes Igorrr the wonderful project that it is. 

 

Phantom Spell, Heather & Hearth (2025).

Some excellent 1970s style prog rock. I think it is a fine line to walk with recreating these sounds many years down the line, where one can easily fall into the trap of simply sounding derivative. The inclusion of an organ here, for example, strictly dates this sound and makes it very obvious what influences they are wearing on their sleeve. However, I think Phantom Spell does it right in their execution of this sound, particularly in the song composition. There is enough here to indicate to the listener what era of music this album is inspired by, but it never steps into that territory of feeling insistent on itself or making a gimmick out of that fact. It is purely a love letter, with its own flare and beautiful structure. The fact that this is a solo project by Seven Sisters’ Kyle McNeil is also pretty flooring. It takes a very talented multi-instrumentalist to pull all this off just from a performance perspective, but the fact that it was also entirely written by that same person is pretty amazing. Overall, I love this album, and highly recommend it. The album artwork fucking rips too. 

Deliquesce, Saviour/Enslaver (2025).

Some incredibly brutal and highly technical death metal. This one is pretty relentless. Full of dizzying riffs and some pretty insane tempo patterns that change up often. The production and tone here are thick as tar. This album does a good job of not leaning too hard in either the technical or the brutal direction, finding a middle ground to nestle within that allows them to bring the best of both worlds. My only hold back, if any, is that I wish when the band found a groove that they would stick with it a little longer. Often the songwriting feels anxious, like it’s always wanting to move on to the next thing as quickly as possible. This can work with the style they are going for, but I find myself hearing a sick groove come in, and really enjoy it, only to have it end as fast as it started. Other than that though, this is a really solid album and absolutely one that should be checked out if you’re into technical death metal and/or brutal death metal. 

 

Calva Louise, Edge of the Abyss (2025).

When I heard the first minute or so of this album, I thought that I really didn’t like what Calva Louise was doing. However, I stuck with it, and I am so glad that I did, because after the initial impression being offputting, I realized that all I needed was to grow accustomed to what Calva Louise was doing, and then I loved it. This is a weird one, for sure, but once you get into the groove of their style and unusual (yet addicting) songwriting, it shines. There are elements of Igorrr and Twelve Foot Ninja here, but it isn’t satisfying to compare Calva to other groups, as they really can’t be categorized in any way. 

There are so many moments throughout this album that worm their way into your brain. It is endlessly catchy, and full to the brim with energy. This was certainly a sleeper hit for me this year, since I hadn’t heard of the band before this. What an exciting discovery. I love when I find bands that sound like nothing else, and that challenges my tastes to push the boundaries of my musical taste. 

 

Rolling Stones, 1970s-80s Catalogue.

I’ve always wanted to like the Rolling Stones, and loved a song here and there, but never sat down and just listened to some of their albums front to back. I made it a goal to do this in 2025, and I am so happy that I did, because I ended up getting more from the experience than I was hoping. I was only able to cover a good majority of their albums released from the 1970s and 80s (and hope to build on this over time), but man, I’ve been missing out. 

For context, I grew up in a family that was obsessed with The Beatles, and so the Stones were rarely being played during my early years. I find the false dichotomy of Beatles or Stones to be silly, but that’s just how it was. For that reason, it is all the more rewarding to give the Stones the time of day later in my life. 

I didn’t get around to as many of their 1980s albums as I would have liked, but I prefer their 70s sound anyways. Albums like Exile of Main Street, Sticky Fingers, and Some Girls resonated with me a lot. Although I did enjoy Tattoo You a lot. There really isn’t anything like their specific take on blues and their specific blend of blues rock. I can’t wait to keep combing through their discography over time.

 

Depravity, Bestial Possession (2025).

Excellent, straight forward death metal that doesn’t fuck around with anything. Crisp production, persistent brutality, slightly reminiscent of Cannibal Corpse at times, no bullshit. No need to be unnecessarily verbose about this one. This thing just fucking shreds end to end. It’ll split your skull like an axe splits wood. 

Hooded Menace, Lachrymose Monuments of Obscuration (2025).

I fuckin loved Ossuarium Silhouettes Unhallowed (this band sure has some interesting album titles), but I missed their 2021 album The Tritonus Bell. I really do need to go back and listen to their older stuff, because their sound really grips me. Their specific flavor of doom-death metal resonates with me a lot. Hooded Menace has just the right combination of heaviness and grime with their sorrowful melodies. This release has them dabbling more with some traditional heavy metal sound, which is something that threw me off a bit at first, but I came around to it. There are some great riffs here, and while I don’t know if this shift in sound is better than what they’ve done before, I’m glad to see them trying out new things while still remaining overall faithful to their sound. As someone unfamiliar with their earlier work, this could be a bit of an ignorant statement, but I guess I won’t know until I go back and spin those records. 

 

Blackbraid, Blackbraid III (2025).

This was definitely one of my favorite black metal albums of the year. I’ve been following this solo Indigenous black metal project since their debut, and have been elated to watch them improve with every release. The production remains as sharp as ever, a point I’ve always appreciated about Blackbraid’s albums, and the guitar work and vocals here are angrier and more vicious than ever. I can hear the progression they have made as an artist and specifically as a songwriter as the albums have come out, and this one sets a new high for what they are capable of. I think some will take issue with the amount of interludes here, though I think that they provide a welcome reprieve, and thematically they fit very well with what Blackbraid is doing on this album. 

Honorable Mentions

As with every year, there are many releases that I want to include on this list, that I simply don’t have the capacity to include. So, with that said, please consider all these as still very worthy of checking out. 

Nick Shoulders, Refugia Blues.

Chat Pile, Hayden Pedigo, In the Earth Again.

Abigail Williams, A Void Within Existence.

Backxwash, Only Dust Remains.

Mawiza, ÜL.

Aran Angmar, Ordo Diabolicum.

In Mourning, The Immortal.

Colter Wall, Memories and Empties.

Teen Mortgage, Devil Ultrasonic Dream.

Sumac, Moor Mother, The Film.

Species, Changelings.

Good Hangs, Greatest Hangs (Toy Harp Records, 2023)

By So Brick, Eh?

I haven’t been this excited about an album in this genre for far too long. Good Hangs’ Greatest Hangs is exactly what every post-emo Millennial needs to feel good about the future of the genre. As my cousin described it, Good Hangs is a time machine: destination—late 2000s emo/punk pop. It’s a solid album front to back, but here’s some highlights, interested listener.

The opening track, “I Hate You (For Making Me Hate You)” is a masterclass in drawing in anybody who is lyrically focused. The ambiguous title and opening lyrics lead you down the path of “oh, another song about broken hearts, sad boy music,” but no. What becomes clear about halfway in is that this is a song about someone discovering that a dear friend is an unapologetic sexual assailant. “Let’s pour one out for the girl back home who doesn’t want to be in a room alone with you....” As a man who had a close friend exposed as a serial sexual assailant, this song hits so many emotional complexities that one deals with when learning this about a person. For one, most importantly, the sorrow upon discovering that so many women have been affected by this person. Then there’s the reimagining of this person you thought you knew and the nagging fear that you were unknowingly complicit. Incredible opening track. 

Track two, “I Only Do Pushups When I’m Drunk (Drinking Lonely),” is the most played/streamed on various platforms, but in my opinion one of the weaker tracks. Musically it’s very strong. Melodic. A steady chanting-style chorus that lends itself to a more guitar-driven Jimmy Eat World feeling. I can see why people like it, but the album offers so much more.

“Local scene,” track three, is a nostalgia-filled song about the heady days of the band’s formation. Strong storytelling, and it captures the lyricist’s own grappling with rising popularity as well as the growing tensions within the band. It is a classic theme for a band to work through musically. The echo backtrack and slowed down lyrics remind me of Motion City Soundtrack, but it’s more scream-y. 

Skipping down to track five, “Intoxicated,” is a great anthem song. Thumping bass line, tight guitar riffs, and crashing drums are all there. Lyrically, it’s capturing the drunken summers of post-high school early college life when “coming home” meant reuniting with friends more than family. It’s most reminiscent of a Blink-182 song from the Enema of The State era. 

Coming fast on the heels of the previous track is “Outlaws.” It’s my personal favorite. The references are notably Gen Z, which does a nice job of reminding you that it’s a more recent work of musicianship (e.g., Whistlepig Whiskey came out in 2007 and didn’t become popular until a bit later). Some inside jokes make their way into the lyrics (drugs in a water bottle?). Also, drinking from water bottles is tirelessly late 2010s. Remember when we just had water fountains? When did everyone get so thirsty? Anyways, the rebelliousness of the track gives me hope that Gen Z aren’t all bootlickers.

Track eight, “I Watched All My Friends Fade Out,” is another trending song on the streaming platforms. The guitar breakdowns and lyrics noticeably shift the album in a darker direction. Nostalgia gives way to a requiem for the innocence of youth. What used to be rebellious youthful energy reveals itself to be a trap for those unable to grow up and move on in life. While many of us make it out of the deep alienation of suburban life and restricting conservative decorum of polite public schools, that is not true for all. For others, it is a labyrinthine complex of comfort and pain.

Track nine, “Grudge,” builds on the insights of track eight by personalizing addiction in a way that feels all too familiar for myself and others like me who come from the opioid-riddled Rust Belt. Addiction hovered over all of us. There was always fear that this drug would be the one that got us. I can smoke one cigarette, but ten, a hundred? Nobody goes straight to heroin. The logic of “gateway drugs,” though somewhat confusing, made sense at face value. How else did Jimmy get hooked on smack? To hear similar pains expressed through the frame of a “grudge” is powerful. We can intellectualize addiction, try to think of it as a “disease,” but that doesn’t make it any easier. For those of us who dabbled, at some level, we are aware of the fact that we were only some number of hits away from a completely different life story. Does that mean we should begrudge those among us who became addicted? No, but we do. 

Track fourteen, “One Foot Wide,” comes back to the nostalgia of those early band days, but with less reverie. The music here feels much “bigger.” Not as big as something like 30 Seconds to Mars or Coheed and Cambria, but you can feel the influence. You can feel the band reaching for a larger sound. I think this is one of the few tracks where the lyrics hold the band back. Musically, it’s the most polished track, but by now the lyrics feel a bit trite. 

Track fifteen, “Best Friends,” brings it right back though with an acoustic guitar and grounded lyrics. It reminds me of the MTV Unplugged days when you could see a band stripped down and forced to perform in a setting where they couldn’t hide behind distortion. Some of those performances exposed artists for being weak performers, other Unplugged albums generated some of a band’s best tracks (Nirvana’s cover of Bowie anyone?). And in this one, they fucking deliver. 

The final track, “When the World Ends,” ends the album on a promising note. It feels to me like a strong trilogy of ending tunes. There’s a fun reference to Dashboard Confessional, an obvious nod to the band’s influences. It’s upbeat, fun, taking on the dread of the tomorrow with the energy of youthful optimism. It makes even my cold dead heart optimistic, not just for the future of the band and the genre, but perhaps even us. 

All in all, I highly recommend Greatest Hangs. It is too often that bands rely on the strength of a single or two. This is a situation where the band has put out a really solid album, and it’s clear that tracks are building on each other. There’s intention to how it is laid out. Some themes are tried-and-true, others are new avenues of exploring growing pains. It’s the perfect album for someone who misses music before the hipster revolution and growing influence of EDM in indie rock spaces. Neo-emo is what I’d call it, and I’m ready for more.

Jon’s Musical Journey in 2025

By Jon (and Justin)

Throughout the year, I curate a weekly radio show with a cohort. Each month we dedicate one show to new releases from the previous month and another to an underappreciated record label we love. The list that follows reflects this musical journey, simply divided by the best, exceptional, and honorable records in alphabetical order. Check out the radio show at KUAA / 99.9 FM / Salt Lake City / kuaafm.org / Second Wind / Thurs. 7-10pm MST.

//Best//

Action & Tension & Space, New Dimensions.

Amba, Zoh, Sun.

Oren Ambarchi / Johan Berthling / Adreas Werliin, Ghosted III.

Automatic, Is It Now?

Barker, Stochastic Drift.

Sofie Birch / Antonina Nowack, Hiraeth.

Clear Path Ensemble, Black Sand.

The Cosmic Tones Research Trio, The Cosmic Tones Research Trio.

Domenique Dumont, Deux Paradis.

Enji, Sonor.

Feater, Obsolescence.

C.R. Gillespie, Island of Women.

Yasmine Hamdan, I Remember, I Forget بنسى وبتذكر.

James Holden / Wacław Zimpel, The Universe Will Take Care of You.

Ivan the Tolerable, Proust Quartering.

Kanot, Vind.

Sarathy Korwar, There Is Beauty, There Already.

Piotr Kurek, Songs and Bodies.

Go Kurosawa, Soft Shakes.

Juana Molina, DOGA.

Kelly Moran, Don’t Trust Mirrors.

The Necks, Disquiet.

Cole Pulice, Land’s End Eternal.

Siinai, Tanssi I.

Širom, In the Wind of Night, Hard-Fallen Incantations Whisper.

SML, How You Been.

СОЮЗ (SOYUZ), Крок (Krok).

MK Velsorf / Aase Nielsen, Opening Night.

Joe Westerlund, Curiosities from the Shift.

Raimund Wong / Suren Seneviratne, A Record of Living Beings.

//Exceptional//

Daniel Bachman, Moving Through Light.

Billy Meier, Ten.

Brighde Chaimbeul, Sunwise.

Collettivo Immaginario, Oltreoceano.

The Far Sound, To Heart, To Earth.

Hannah Frances, Nested in Tangles.

Gelli Haha, Switcheroo.

Nico Georis, Music Belongs to the Universe.

Glyders, Forever.

Gunn-Truscinski Duo, Flam.

IE, Reverse Earth.

Park Jiha, All Living Things.

Alek Lee, Cold Feet.

Leoparden, Disko Inferno.

Natural Information Society / Bitchin Bajas, Totality.

Old Saw, The Wringing Cloth.

Oneohtrix Point Never, Tranquilizer.

Organic Pulse Ensemble, Oppression Is Nine Tenths of the Law.

Setting, At Public Records.

Marina Zispin, Now You See Me, Now You Don’t.

//Honorable//

anaiis, Devotion & The Black Divine.

Oren Ambarchi / Eric Thielemans, Kind Regards.

Ichiko Aoba, Luminescent Creatures.

Ashinoa, Un’altra Forma.

Autine Flo, Birds of Paradise.

Daniel Bachman, As Time Draws Near.

Bella Wakame, Bella Wakame.

Błoto, Grzyby.

Ben Bondy, XO Salt Llif3.

Brown Spirits, Cosmic Seeds.

Buscabulla, Se Amaba Así.

Carniverous Plant Society, The Lizard.

Eddie Chacon, Lay Low.

cktrl, spirit.

COLLIGNON, Bicicleta.

Cosmic Ear, TRACES.

Deradoorian, Ready for Heaven.

Drazek Fuscaldo, Attachments.

James Elkington, Pastel de Nada.

Mark Ernestus Ndagga Rhythm Force, Khadim.

Flur, Pulse.

Greg Foat / Jihad Darwish / Moses Boyd, Opening Time.

Garavanta, Casual Drama.

Ben LaMar Gay, Yowzers.

Sam Gendel / Nate Mercereau, digi-squires.

Golden Brown, Patterner.

J.H. Guraj, The Flip Side.

Cerys Hafana, Angel.

Steve Hauschildt, Aeropsia.

Ben Heckett, Songs for Sleeping Dogs.

Helado Negro, The Last Sound on Earth.

helen island, silence is priceless.

Ill Considered, Balm.

Petre Inspirescu, Ever Moving.

Intermood, Casuarina.

Eiko Ishibashi, Antigone.

Ivan the Tolerable / Hawksmoor, Atoms in the Void.

Jaan, Baghali.

James K, Friend.

John Also Bennett, Στον Ελαιώνα (Ston Elaióna).

KALI Trio, The Playful Abstract.

Siri Karlsson / Solo Dja Kabaco, Stockholm-Ouagadougou.

Sofia Kourtesis, Volver.

Madala Kunene / Sibusile Xaba, kwaNTU.

Matt LaJoie, Stonehouse.

Okkyung Lee, just like any other day (어느날): background music for your mundane activities.

Les Halles, Original Spirit.

Light-Space Modulator, The Rising Wave.

MAÂT, Lustra.

Olga Anna Markowska, ISKRA.

Walt McClements, On a Painted Ocean.

Melody’s Echo Chamber, Unclouded.

Nate Mercereau / Josh Johnson / Carlos Niño, Openness Trio.

Milkweed, Remscéla.

More Eaze / claire rousay, no floor.

The Myrrors, Land Back.

Mytron / Zongamin, Congregate.

Johnny Nash, Once Was Ours Forever.

numün, Opening.

Other Lands, Star Jumps.

Misha Panfilov, To Blue from Grey in May.

Misha Panfilov Septet, Skyways.

Jonah Parzen-Johnson / Lau Nau, A Few We Remember.

Hayden Pedigo, I’ll Be Waving as You Drive Away.

Orio Pena, Béke.

Jules Reidy, Ghost/Spirit.

Rose City Band, Sol y Sombra.

Saccades, Portreath.

M. Sage, Tender / Wading.

Salami Rose Joe Louis, Lorings.

SANAM, Sametou Sawtan.

Loris S. Sarid, Ambient $.

SFJ, Drifting.

Joseph Shabason / Spencer Zahn, Buds.

Qur’an Shaheed, Pulse.

Patrick Shiroishi, Forgetting Is Violent.

Patrick Shiroishi / Piotr Kurek, Greyhound Days.

Shrunken Elvis, Shrunken Elvis.

SMG, SMG, Vol. 2.

Soft Power, Space to Breathe.

Maria Somerville, Luster.

Macie Stewart, When the Distance Is Blue.

Misha Sultan, Lantern in the Wind.

Sumac / Moor Mother, The Film.

Kuniyuki Takahashi, We Are Together.

Titanic, HAGEN.

Laurie Torres, Après coup.

Tortoise, Touch.

Gregory Uhlmann / Josh Johnson / Sam Wilkes, Uhlmann Johnson Wilkes.

Vaudou Game, Fintou.

Voice Actor / Squu, Lust 1.

Anna von Hausswolff, Iconoclasts.

Web Web, Plexus Plexus.

JJ Whitefield, Off the Grid.

Chip Wickham, The Eternal Now.

Wilson Tanner, Legends.

Yestsuby, 4EVA.

Derya Yıldırım & Grup Şimşek, Yarın Yoksa.

YHWH Nailgun, 45 Pounds.

Various Artists, Fantologia I.

**Typically, compilations are omitted from end-of-year lists, but this one is comprised of exclusive tracks not available elsewhere...and it’s incredible. Eat me.

Violent Testimony, Aggravate (Horror Pain Gore Death Productions, 2025)

By Five-Inch Taint

Hailing from “the barren wastelands of Cheyenne, Wyoming,” as they note in their bio, Violent Testimony have released a banger of an album in Aggregate. Released on October 17, 2025, Aggregate gives the listener 21 tracks in about 26 all too quick minutes. This is definitely an all thriller, no filler type of album. I had the pleasure of seeing them at the Thrash Zone in Cheyenne in 2025, and I was blown away by the energy and chaos of this band. At that show, they announced they were releasing an album later in the year. I eagerly awaited its release. And, thankfully, the wait was worth it, and the hype I built in my head was actualized. 

Before I bought the album, I knew that it would pulverize my brain with its vicious, uncompromising riffs. But once I was able to sit with the music and listen to it repeatedly, I developed a different appreciation for Violent Testimony. Aggravate delivers on its promise of crushing extreme metal and so much more. On their website, they write that they are a “devastating combination of grind/death/thrash metal.” This combination comes through clearly throughout their tracks. However, what makes this album particularly enjoyable is the way that they are combined and the hidden bonus of a hardcore inflection not listed on their site. Many of the songs have the chaos of a grind band, the fast (and catchy) riffs of a thrash band, and the harsh, low growls of a death metal band. However, it all comes together in what I’d like to call a “legible dynamism.”

It is so easy for grind bands to really dig into the chaotic, frenetic element of the genre. In general, I love the short bursts of energy and the pandemonium. It hits something shallow in my ADHD brain. Sometimes, though, grind albums have difficulty in creating a compelling full-length album where the tracks are distinguishable from one another. I find some thrash to be the same way. You get it after a song or two. That does not mean it is not enjoyable, though. 

Aggravate, however, manages to avoid this trap through its legible dynamism. Now, I don’t have a definition for legible dynamism, I just figured the way to get attention is to make up a concept. But if I were to try to pin it down, I would say that the legibility of the music refers to the band’s ability to make music where all the elements of a song are clear and can be easily understood in relation to one another. Dynamism, in this context, speaks to the energy and change present within a song and between tracks. Something has legible dynamism when the energy and change come through in a clear, coherent way (even amidst the chaos). 

Violent Testimony achieves this in several ways on Aggravate. Right out the gate in track one, “God Complex Massacre,” you are pummeled over by the frenetic guitar and drum. There is no room to breathe. The harsh, screaming vocals at the beginning of the song adds another layer of abrasiveness. Classic grind. About 20 seconds in and the riffs start to change towards a more thrashy style. The tempo doesn’t change much—still fast and frenetic—but the feeling does. It’s not so much a dip in intensity, but a change in its quality. Thirty-five seconds in and the vocals switch to a low, guttural growl. Again, same level of intensity, just a different feel. Throughout the rest of the song, the riffs and the vocals bounce back and forth keeping your interest for its entirety. Taken separately, each element is great. Put together as a whole, you end up with an emergent legible dynamism. This dynamic is present in most songs of the album, providing enough within song variation to keep you enthralled.

This legible dynamism is also present between the various songs. Going from “God Complex Massacre” to the second track, “Piss Vomit Acid Corrosion,” is almost like switching to a different album. Instead of choking on the chaos of grind, you are introduced to a more hardcore punk feel only to be immediately thrown back into the grind. It’s almost as if they code switch between grind and hardcore throughout the song. It is executed beautifully. 

Violent Testimony manages to maintain this legible dynamism throughout the album combining their grind/death/thrash roots in a variety of ways keeping the listener engaged. It is hard to lose focus in a 26-minute album. That, though, is not necessarily the sign of a quality release. Aggravate manages to keep you engaged and present for your 26-minute aural assault. 

I hope that Violent Testimony keeps playing and releasing new music. Hopefully, they can inspire a more vibrant extreme music scene in the “barren wasteland” that is southeast Wyoming. 

Scott’s Top 10 Musical Items from 2025

By Scott

Emperor and Wolves In The Throne Room, live in New York City. 

WITTR were very good but seeing Emperor play all of In the Nightside Eclipse and a heaping of Anthems to the Welkin at Dusk was a god damn treat. 

Colter Wall, Memories and Empties (2025). 

An excellent follow-up to his last album, which I liked a lot; his singing just gets better and better. 

Leatherface, “Monkfish.” 

Thanks to SoDak for the recommendation. Something about this song just hit me the right way in 2025 and got me listening to Leatherface quite a bit.  

When We Were Good: The Folk Revival, by Robert Cantwell (1997).

This is not quite a history but an idiosyncratic study of the cultural forces that prepared the way for the 1960s folk revival. The writing in places is astoundingly good, and the chapter on Pete Seeger—an intriguing, challenging portrait—is worth the price of the book alone. 

A Complete Unknown (2024).

This is an often ridiculous Hollywoodization of the Dylan story, but pretty enjoyable if you accept it as that. During the famous electric Newport Folk Festival performance, when Pete Seeger, played by Edward Norton, blurts out, “I’m sorry, Odetta!,” I laughed out loud.

The Tubs, Cotton Crown (2025). 

The second album by one of my favorite bands to appear in recent years is as good as their first: catchy, rich, lively, and moving. I love’em. https://thetubs.bandcamp.com/album/cotton-crown

Black Sabbath et al., “Back to the Beginning” concert (2025). 

I watched this over the course of a weekend. There were highs and lows, and everyone was probably thinking about the bands they would have added or kicked off the bill, but it was still a pretty remarkable thing to behold. Imagine telling a 17-year-old Ozzy Osbourne that, someday, you’d be back in Birmingham with a stadium of people essentially worshipping you for a day, joined by who knows how many thousands of others all around the world. Unreal. And then that motherfucker went and died! That was hard to believe—still is hard to believe—but what a tribute. 

3:19 into “At Peace” by Propagandhi, from At Peace (2025). 

When I first listened to this song and realized he was quoting Bruce Cockburn, it gave me a chill and just about brought a tear to my eye. Like Cockburn, Propagandhi writes songs about the struggle to stay human in a time of ascendent fascist barbarism—songs I wish we didn’t need, but we sure as fuck do. 

“Death Valley Nights” and “I Love the Night,” Blue Oyster Cult, Spectres (1977). 

I was on a BOC kick this summer and for whatever reason, these two songs jumped out to me, as a pair—obviously because of the “night” thing, but something about the mood of them just worked together, too. “Death Valley” is a little more upbeat with a twinge of sadness, and “I Love the Night” is, uhh, about becoming a vampire? But it has some of Buck Dharma's finest guitar playing, I’d say. 

“Old Tom Bombadil” by Bear McCreary, vocals by Rufus Wainwright (2024). 

I’m not the biggest Lord of the Rings nerd by any stretch (although I do remember Old T. B. from the books, because he isn’t in the Peter Jackson movies) but damn, I love this song. Why? Who the hell knows. The TV show it’s from was just OK. I also listened to Rufus Wainwright’s album Folkocracy (2023) a lot this year, which is very good if a little slick. I should mention here that I saw Meshuggah with Cannibal Corpse and Carcass in 2025, a fantastic concert, and the singer for Meshuggah also contributed a song to this LOTR TV show—which is a funny coincidence, sorta. And yet I chose for this year’s list “Old Tom Bombadil” and listened to it probably dozens of times, which I am not ashamed to admit. In fact, I think I’ll play it again right now!

Jimmy “Explosive Diarrhea” B’s 2025 Musical Obsessions

By Jimmy

This past year, 2025, was an epically shitty year. I won’t go into detail about politics and economics; you have heard enough about those already. I also won’t bother you with my personal problems. Fortunately, there is always musical discoveries or rediscoveries to build a temporary wall between the shitstorm and me and hopefully you.

Led Zeppelin, II (1969). 

I had this album on CD for decades. I never devoted the time to it that it deserved. I decided to replace my CD with vinyl, and I was blown away (finally!) by what a great album this is. I believe it is Zeppelin’s best album.

Damo Suzuki & Spiritczualic Enhancement Center, Arkaoda (2022). 

Some of you realize that Damo Suzuki was the second vocalist for the krautrock band CAN. You might not realize that Damo, who is Japanese, didn’t speak passable English or German. The result of this is that much of what you hear on CAN records featuring Damo is gibberish that sounds like words. The band invented lyrics to put on the lyric sheets, which bore little resemblance to what Damo sang. This seems to be true of Arkaoda as well; I can’t pick out any words. On this album, Damo did not reinvent himself. The music is artistic and progressive and should appeal to CAN fans.

Supersister, Nancy Never Knew (2025). 

Supersister, in my self-centered opinion, is one of the great prog bands. They only put out a handful of records in their career, most of them in the early 1970s. Nancy Never Knew is their latest, and hopefully not last. This album is a little more modern (not quite as heavy on the prog) as their earlier releases, but it is damn good, and has better production if that matters to you.

Coroner, Dissonance Theory (2025). 

This is the metal release of 2025 for me. Until a few months ago, I didn’t consider myself a Coroner fan. I liked them, but not enough to bother buying their albums. I considered skipping this one, but there was so much hype around it that I felt like I would be missing out if I didn’t give it a shot. I am now a fan.

love unfold the sun, explode yourself (2025).  

This is one of those odd albums that seem to make my list every year; I am at a loss to describe the genre or who they might sound like. There is a guitar player who likes to play metal riffs; a drummer who, with every strike, is firmly embedded in jazz rhythms; a trumpet player who aids in the jazz feel, and a bass player who keeps a progressive rock groove going.

Evil Blizzard, The Dangers of Evil Blizzard (2013). 

One of the dudes in this band was in Hawkwind at some point, although I am not sure which dude. Evil Blizzard plays a slightly industrial style of hard rock. I think this is mostly due to the vocal phrasing, which reminds me of Jaz Coleman. All Evil Blizzard’s albums are good, but this one is my favorite.

Greg Foat, The Rituals of Infinity (2024). 

A friend sent me a YouTube link to this album. I chased down a physical copy. This album is atmospheric and a little light on the fusion that I normally look for in a jazz record. But it is fucking great. 

Unleashed, Fire Upon Your Land (2025) and Where No Life Dwells (1991). 

This isn’t the first time an Unleashed album has made my year-end list. They have joined a small group of post-1980s metal bands that I follow. Of the two albums, Where No Life Dwells is slightly favored.

Punkadelic, Run Whiteboy Run (2025). 

I have never been one of those guys who really cares about meeting musicians; I assume they are going to be assholes, and I only care about their music, not the personnel. Mike Dillon is among the nicest touring musicians I have had the pleasure to converse with. This alone is enough to make me a fan. But it doesn’t have to be enough because these energetic fuckers can play. If you think drums, vibraphones (Mike Dillon), and keyboards might interest you, then go see Punkadelic play live; you won’t regret it.

M. Chuzi, Papara (2023). 

If this album had been released in 2025, I would call it the jazz album of the year. I will instead call it the best jazz album I purchased in 2025.

Ring Van Mobius, Firebrand (2025). 

A band with this style and name has no business releasing an album in 2025. They are clearly influenced by Emerson Lake and Palmer, but unlike ELP they are not boring. This album is only going to appeal to listeners who progressive rock. 

The Goddamn Gallows, The Trial (2018). 

I have been a Jayke Orvis fan for a long time. I think he is one of the great young(ish) country/bluegrass artists. The Goddamn Gallows is not a country band, it is country adjacent. The Trial is also metal adjacent. This album is more varied and has better production than their previous records. If you like the more noisy albums by Hank III or the Phantoms of the Black Hills, this might appeal to you. It is definitely not for everyone.

Miasma and the Carousel of Headless Horses, Periles (2005). 

This is another one of those genre busting bands and albums that I am drawn to. It reminds me of Neurosis. It’s dark and brooding. Even where the band is seemingly attempting something light and bouncy, the darkness creeps in. 

Soft Machine, Original album classics (2010). 

I purchased this box set out of curiosity. Soft Machine are one of the more influential krautrock bands. This box set contains five of their classic records on CD. I wasn’t sure what to expect. I hoped for progressive rock like CAN, and not to be like Amon Düül’s noise albums. I was really pleased to hear five albums of jazz fusion. It is some of the better European jazz fusion in my collection.

Ozzy Osbourne (1948-2025)

By SoDak

In my essay about the first time listening to Black Sabbath, (https://tickleyourtaint.blogspot.com/2025/07/we-sold-our-soul-for-rock-n-roll-my.html), I mentioned that my older neighbor Tim introduced me to many hard rock and metal bands in the 1970s and early 80s. Just over a year after he loaned me his copy of We Sold Our Soul for Rock ‘n’ Roll, which got me hooked on Sabbath, he had me come over to his house to listen to Ozzy Osbourne’s Blizzard of Ozz (1980). As the record spun, Tim excitedly told me about the guitar player Randy Rhoads, emphasizing that he was as good as Eddie Van Halen. I just nodded, as I did not have an opinion on this matter. Plus, I had learned that to question such statements often resulted in getting punch. Tim was tightly wound, impulsive, and aggressive. Nevertheless, he loved music. I appreciated having someone older around who listened to different genres. Tim flipped through rock magazines, searching for a photo of Ozzy and Randy, to show me how cool they looked together. We repeated this experience a year later when Dairy of a Madman (1981) was released. 

Over a couple years, we spent hours listening to these records, both on vinyl and cassette, as we shot hoops in the driveway, played catch in the backyard, or read Circus and Hit Parader. Tim tried to regale me with stories about Ozzy’s buffoonery. I did not care too much about this, as I was more interested in the music. Like in Black Sabbath, Ozzy sang along to the guitar riff, creating wonderful melodies, which helped create distinct hooks within songs. His ability on this front is quite captivating, given the different guitar players through the years. He established a distinctive voice, which also stretched and varied in accordance with the guitar players. The first two Ozzy records hold a special place for folks my age and older, as they marked the continuation of Ozzy following Sabbath and the brief ascendancy of Randy. The guitar work is excellent, as the riffs are catchy. Randy throws in plenty of additional licks within songs that are delightful. 

Both records start strong, with the most memorable songs. On Blizzard, it is “I Don’t Know” and “Crazy Train.” On Dairy, it is “Over the Mountain” and “Flying High Again.” These songs rock and generally have a propulsive energy (“Flying High Again” is more mid-tempo). It is clear why these were the hits on these records. Like Sabbath records, Ozzy’s early records include slow/ballad songs (“Goodbye to Romance” and “Tonight”), plodding songs (“Suicide Solution” and “Believer”), mid-tempo songs without much drive (“Mr. Crowley,” “You Can’t Kill Rock and Roll,” “Little Dolls,” and “S.A.T.O.”), and rock ‘n’ roll songs (“No Bone Movies”). The variation contributed to peaks and valleys on the records, which also made them distinct. I like plenty of the additional songs, but the records are not masterpieces. On Blizzard, the additional gem is the closing song “Steal Away (The Night).” 

The first non-Sabbath Ozzy record that I bought was Bark at the Moon (1983). On this transition record, Jake E. Lee was the guitar player. Don Airey’s keyboards and synths were much more present. The production is more polished, and the sound was more mainstream. As usual for Ozzy, the record starts with a strong song—the title track. The “Bark at the Moon” video was regularly played on MTV, depicting Ozzy’s “comical” madness, as a scientist who becomes a werewolf. Anyhow, Jake’s guitar riffs on this song are infectious. The song builds momentum and is catchy. Ozzy sounds great. The record is often dismissed as inferior to the previous two solo albums. Nevertheless, it has a similar variation in types of songs. It is also uneven, with both peaks and valleys. In many ways, I think it has a stronger side one than the first two records. The title track, “You’re No Different,” “Now You See Me,” and “Rock ‘n’ Roll Rebel” are all solid rock songs, even if the last one gets tiring. On side two, I am fine with the ballad “So Tired,” as I like Ozzy’s vocal inflections when he sings more serious and tender songs. Plus, the ballads reveal his love of the Beatles in interesting ways. “Slow Down” is a very strong rock song, and “Waiting for Darkness” is interesting. I have soft spot for this record, and I listened to it a lot when I was young. Perhaps, this colors my assessment, but I think Bark at the Moon is a stronger record than the first two. I still enjoy listening to it. 

Over the decades, I continued to buy each Ozzy record, finding enjoyable moments and good songs throughout the catalog. I continue to like his most pop record The Ultimate Sin (1986), despite the poor production, perhaps because it is quite different, and the songs remain distinct from each other. Following this, Ozzy records generally sound okay, except the songs start to sound very similar throughout the record. Part of this is due to how Zakk Wylde, the guitar player on most Ozzy records, incorporates pinch harmonics into almost every song. Once noticing how often Zakk employs this guitar technique, it became distracting and annoying, interfering with listening pleasure. Many years ago, I played a later Ozzy record and hit skip forward on the CD the first time I heard a pinched harmonic in each song. The listening time was about a minute. 

The Black Sabbath records with Ozzy, including the last one, 13 (2013), highlight Ozzy’s best work. Every year, I regularly listen to them. But, from time to time, I appreciate listening to his solo records, especially the first four albums, and remembering the excitement of hearing new songs by him. Regardless of whether he acted as a clown, from time to time, his music still gives me pleasure. 

Todd Snider (1966-2025)

By Kloghole

Todd Snider Official Website

“Eat shit, liver!” I mumble as I stumble over to get my computer, having consumed my three fingers in honor of my Mom who died on this day 16 years ago. I tell myself that she stuck it out for one more day so as not to die the same day as her sister, my brother’s birthday, but poor people don’t have that kind of agency.

I am of the age that people just fucking die. Half of my parents are dead, well three of them. 

So it is with the consummate songwriter Todd Snider. Felled by god knows what. I have not had the emotional strength to look further into it, but there were whispers of an assault, a hospital visit, a run-in with police, and pneumonia. Leave it to Todd to make it fucking interesting.

Todd Snider is only a few months older than I am, but that fact only drives home how little I have accomplished in this nearly 60 years of stomping around this planet. His song, “Class of 85” reminds me that I missed my 40 year reunion. Well, I missed all of them, but there’s always the 50th.   

For those of you who do not know, Todd (he’s dead now, so I can talk about him like I know him) wrote and sang about pretty much everything under the sun. He pondered the mundane as well as the political.

“Alright Guy” sums up how we think about ourselves, but not necessarily how people think about us. I am sure we all have those stories, but one of mine is about some folks who bullrushed into an organization where I had a leadership role. They came in all barrels blasting, but took no responsibility for anything. When they blew up at the prior leadership for who the fuck knows what, they refused to take on the responsibility for communications. Well, they sent a message to the membership where someone responded with some racist bullshit. Because they somehow sent the message in a way that allowed replies and did not take ownership of the list management, the discussion spiraled in a way that I told them would happen if they kept on the path they did. Later, I said to one of them that they needed to own what they did. That did not go over well. In all that, I know I am an “Alright Guy” despite the response. There is more to the story, but for the sake of pacing, let’s move on.

Snider seems to have a critical view of U.S. politics, “Conservative Christian, Right-Wing Republican, Straight, White, American Males.” His “You Got Away With It” appears to be a not-so-veiled jab at Bush the dumber. Privilege, especially the privilege to be able to harm others without consequences, is enraging. The other day, something prompted me to begin pontificating about my high school experience. My nephews are both able to showcase their musical and theatrical talents and have their choice of schools with thousands in scholarships. While they actively make use of the opportunities laid at their feet, my own reality was very different. When a friend of mine and I had test scores in the top percentile in the state, we were brought to the vice-principal’s office to be informed of the fact, very quietly. We were not the model students, and hence did not rate public accolades. In contrast, the friend of mine who helped students cheat on a history exam and was detained for drinking before graduation was celebrated publicly at graduation - something about a model citizen award. This is a “friend” who would fuck with me, poke me with a pencil, etc., until I responded. When I did, I was sent to the principal’s office. He, however, just got to sit in class with a stupid fucking smirk on his face. After a while, I just stopped going to the principal’s office. Once after being kicked out of class for some reason, I convinced the friend who also got the high test scores to go to the library to do homework. When the announcement over the loudspeaker called for our heads, he was a bit panicky. I could give a shit less. What the fuck were they going to do to students who went to the library to study instead of reporting directly to the principal’s office? I am pretty sure that we were sent there because of the dude who was always fucking around. He “Got Away With It.” Not me. There is a much longer story, but it ends with my brother throwing a textbook at my former math teacher because my reputation followed my brother into that classroom.

Todd Snider is one of the few folks who I thought maybe I should go see. I would mention him to neighbors and friends, and they would regale me with stories about his shows. There is one song that has tickled my funny bone, but you have to listen to the live version - the “Balled of the Devil’s Backbone Tavern.” It showcases his songwriting and live banter skills. I will not give away the ending. Hopefully, you get a good belly laugh as I did.

Some of the songs that stick with me are truly the singer/songwriter style of storytelling. He tells a captivating story of how Dock Ellis threw a no-hitter on LSD. Another memorable story is a fictionalized conversation with D.B. Cooper after he jumped out of a plane with a duffle of cash. There are so many more, but feel free to discover them yourself. He is the kind of artist that is very easy to listen to while you are in nearly any kind of mood. During a recent trip back to my hometown, I listened to every album of his in my collection. With some artists, I cannot bear such immersion, but with Todd Snider, I am still eager to listen again.



There are a few songs you may recognize, some of which Snider wrote and some he didn’t. “Beer Run” is a co-written anthem with a catchy chorus: “B double E, double R, U, N - Beer Run.” Snider would chose some great songs and make them his own. “Betty Was Black” is a historical narrative about intermarriage. Todd also chose a Fred Eaglesmith standard, “Alcohol and Pills,” doing it so well you may imagine it as one of his own.

While his death certainly was not the direct result of alcohol and pills, it had the tragic resonance of a talented artist taken far too early. There are a lot of good people taken far too early, and it is always painful. It is also a bit odd how affected we are by the passing of someone we do not know. Perhaps it is because they still have a profound affect on us despite not knowing them personally. The emotions they engender in us create a connection.

As you may have surmised, I do not believe that things “happen for a reason” in the way that most people excuse. Some shit happens for a reason, usually because some fucking privileged asshole made it happen. Other shit is just fucking random or a cacophony of bad shit all coming together at once. This seems to be the case with Snider. I have always found life to be grievously unfair. “Good people” die, and horrible people fucking live forever, cough...Kissinger, cough...Reagan.

While at the record store on my birthday, I passed up the chance to buy his new album. For some reason, I just could not bring myself to pick it up new after he had passed. It wasn’t right, in the moment. Perhaps later, I will not feel that way, but I usually forget that there is new music out there until I find it used.

For those not familiar with Todd Snider, he is worth a go. Perhaps, as with many artists, the live material is always a good entry point. Then, work your way out by picking up those albums with the songs you like. Or, if you are not a fucking fossil that still draws breath, get on the streaming and cherry pick your way through song by song, however you youngsters fucking do it these days.

Todd Snider, on the whole, has always been a three sweet sticky balls artist for me. He gets heavy rotation with Fred Eaglesmith, Ben Harper, Shooter Jennings, Koko Taylor, Alejandro Escovedo, among others. There are some artists who the world is a little poorer for not getting more from them, but I think the world could live without a new Metallica album, or another painful offering from what’s her name. I truly just forgot. Shut up, brain; it’s not fucking Tiffany something. Fuck. Oh well. I am getting fucking old.

Sweet Dreams Motherfuckers!