Now that the smoke from the fireworks have subsided and you’ve endured several wildly misappropriated needle drops of ‘Born In The U.S.A,’ you may be wondering what to do with your spare time. You’ve been thinking of taking up reading like a total fucking square, but years of television and doom-scrolling have robbed you of the attention span required to immerse yourself in the written word.
Never fear. There’s a new fad sweeping the nation of illiterate mouth-breathers like yourself. It’s called ‘music,’ and it can be enjoyed by anyone, even the incredibly stupid. We understand that this may be overwhelming, so we’ve taken the time to outline some of our favorite pieces of this new form of media to make your entryway seamless and stress-free.
The Voidz “American Way”
Recently, Julian Casablancas’ experimental outfit ‘The Voidz’ released a metal-infused romp of a single entitled ‘Prophecy of the Dragon.’ Its limited CD release featured the exclusive B-Side, ‘American Way.’ Presumably, Julian and company realized that almost no one has a CD player anymore and uploaded the track to their YouTube channel in celebration of Independence Day (the holiday, not the movie). ‘American Way’ is a somber reflection of our nation’s history that serves as the near antithesis to the A-Side’s fiery metal-psych riffage. With its scathing lines about progress being ‘built on someone else’s tears’ it’s the perfect track to mitigate the guilt you feel about having fun at your family’s 4th of July barbeque.
The Darkness “Black Shuck (Demo)”
Long before Greta Van Fleet came along to absolutely ruin Classic Rock for everyone, The Darkness were making a noble and absolutely fun attempt to revive it. Their debut album ‘Permission to Land’ just celebrated its twentieth anniversary. To commemorate the event, the English quartet has announced a massive box set featuring unreleased b-sides, demos, and live recordings from the era. Cheekily called ‘Permission to Land… Again,’ this set is sure to be a treasure trove for completionist collectors of borderline satirical music from the early aughts. The newly released demo recording of album opener ‘Black Shuck’ showcases a band a little rough around the edges, but one that is still better than any bar band your uncle has ever been in.
Sincere Engineer “California King”
Chicago’s own Sincere Engineer have recently been teasing their third full-length ‘Cheap Grills,’ which is due in late September. For those of us who can’t wait that long for our Midwestern Emo injection, the band has been steadily releasing singles from the upcoming album. Their latest, ‘California King,’ carries the torch from elder statesmen like Motion City Soundtrack, while also invoking Americana and Folk inspirations in the vein of Waxahatchee. This culmination of sounds makes the song feel like a tour through the past two decades of indie rock history. The band pulls off this heist without sacrificing fresh ground thanks in large part to Deanna Belos’ unique vocal stylings and melodies. It goes without saying that this track is required listening for anyone attempting to feel something this week.
Depeche Mode “Wagging Tongue – Wet Leg Remix”
Wet Leg have been too busy playing ‘Chaise Lounge’ repeatedly to write a new song, but that hasn’t stopped them from whipping together an excellent remix of the legendary Depeche Mode’s latest track. Plucked from the band’s amazing new record, ‘Memento Mori,’ ‘Wagging Tongue’ is an epic Goth dirge that builds for a full minute over sparse sequencers before dropping into its mid-tempo beat. Any wish for a more danceable version of the track is granted with Wet Leg’s disco infused rearrangement. Armed with the Rhian Teasdale and Hester Chambers’ haunting backing vocals scattered atop David Gahan’s chopped up lead, as well as intensely summery backing instrumentation, this track is sure to fill beaches with black umbrellas for weeks to come.
Better Lovers “God Made Me An Animal”
Culminated from the remains of hardcore legends Every Time I Die and Dillinger Escape Plan, the newly formed supergroup Better Lovers have just surprise-released their debut EP, ‘God Made Me An Animal.’ Those who were left disheartened by the news of ETID’s unceremonious and far from amicable break-up last year will be more than assuaged by the title track alone, while fans of DEP are sure to be thrilled to hear a return to form from frontman Greg Puciato. The EP as a whole clocks at just over 15 minutes, wasting not even a millisecond as it burns through riff after gloriously heavy riff. The band also announced a pretty sizable summer tour, so we’ll see you in the motherfucking pit if they don’t intentionally skip our city.
Recently, our Managing Editor put padlocks on our office doors. She announced that no one was allowed to leave unless we shared our music streaming services’ search history. Those with Pandora were fired immediately without severance. The few that weren’t total nerds were rewarded with a thorough examination and critique. Here are the shocking results:
Mudvayne “Dig”
Some say Mudvayne is just the Wal-Mart version of Slipknot, who themselves are the Dollar Tree version of GWAR. We’re not sure if any of that is actually true. What we do know is that most streaming services offer a ‘Private Listening Mode’ to hide the fact that you still jam to stuff like this from the general public. Seriously, anyone can see that. What were they thinking? The employee responsible for this one has been placed on administrative leave, with their return pending a further investigation into their supposed ‘taste.’
Blue Öyster Cult “Godzilla”
This track has 70 million plays on Spotify and while they say 70 million people, including the writer who reportedly wasted almost four minutes of his life listening to this one, can’t be wrong, we’re pretty sure they can. First of all, ‘Godzilla’ isn’t even on the highly influential and groundbreaking 1998 record ‘Godzilla: The Album,’ so does it even have any legitimacy within the canon? We think not. Also, we’re pretty sure Netflix hasn’t made a true-crime documentary about this supposed Blue Öyster ‘Cult’ yet, so how great could they be?
Operation Ivy “Freeze Up”
‘Sorry. Listening to Operation Ivy harder will not convince the band to get back together. Live in the now, dear intern.’ That’s what our editor should have said to the poor soul that generated this search result. We’re sure calling them a dweeb and laughing in their face for a solid ten minutes conveyed the same message, though. We should probably give that guy a pass, though, as literally everyone on the planet just wants to see them headline Riot Fest before they die.
The Front Bottoms “Twin Size Mattress”
When we discovered this track looming on one of our writer’s Spotify accounts, we immediately sent them to our in-house therapist. Within ten minutes, the session was declared a disaster as both parties simultaneously sobbed about their exes while playing ‘Talon of the Hawk’ in its entirety at full volume. We’re not sure where they are now, but the last time we spotted them, they were doing mushrooms and writing a collaborative concept album about their former flames. This is what happens when health care is privatized.
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Is the schtick getting old or is Primus struggling to remain Primus? This is the most Frank Zappa drenched in Ketamine of all of their albums thus far. The album just kicks off with a sluggish spoken word mistake of a track and is never able to catch up with itself. I will applaud the band for leaning away from the catchy hooks into more experimental territory, unfortunately that experiment was a failure.
Why does every latter-day Primus track sound like a doctor trying to explain something to you while you are slipping under anesthesia? There is just no energy in most of these tracks with some of them sounding like a demented segment of “Sesame Street.” This all sounds like if Tool took themselves slightly less seriously. I know Primus isn’t really the kind of band to have singles, but it is like they are actively working against having any kind of melody or hook.
After over a decade without a full-length album, that isn’t live or a greatest hits, Primus is back and still sounding like a PG-13 They Might Be Giants. And why not take some time off when you have “South Park” money? That being said, this album is kind of meandering and uninspired. It feels like Primus went from genuinely quirky to weird for weird’s sake. At its best, this album sounds like a child’s toy running low on batteries at its worst it sounds like early Red Hot Chili Peppers.
There is something so apropos about Primus covering the entire soundtrack of “Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory.” Unfortunately, the whole album feels very slapdash and the fact the entire thing was based around covering “Pure Imagination” it makes every other track seems like an afterthought. Most of Les Claypool’s performance sounds like a drunk dad leaving you a meandering voicemail at 2 a.m.
I’ll admit, as someone who had a poster of Primus on his wall and wore the t-shirt, I was long over them (the “Brown Album” was just too hard to stomach) by the time this album came out and I never actually listened to it. I will say that it seems that they got the kickback in their step. This is a fun, energetic roller-coaster of an album and I feel bad that I never listened to it. Once again every track is essentially a character breakdown of an R. Crumb doodle but at least it’s fun.
Maybe it was the surprising success of “Pork Soda” but this is the first album where Primus sounds like they don’t know what to do with themselves. Don’t get me wrong, all the songs still sound like the theme song to canceled Saturday Morning Cartoons, but it all feels forced in a way that seemed so effortless beforehand.
Like them or not, rarely has a band come out of the womb so fully formed with such a confident personality as Primus does on “Fizzle Fry.” Les Claypool is already a complete carnival barker on acid from track 1. Most other bands would tip-toe around sounding like a cartoon walrus (both in voice and lyrics) for their first album.
Like the Kinks, every song is its own sad little story about loss, fate, and Kubrick. At least that is what I got out of it. This album is like a Rorschach Test, everyone is going to get something different out of it but in the end it is probably just silly nonsense. Primus has a way of drawing pictures with their music, strange little doodles in the margins of society but somehow, at least with their best albums, they are able to remain just barely within the lines of pop-music making enjoyable melodies out of the strangest of circumstances.
You know how there are these folk artists with no formal training that make crucifixes out of old bike parts or whatever and just fill their yard with them, not doing it for fame or fortune but because they just feel compelled by some unknown force to create. Primus is the musical equivalent of that and it shows on this album. They are folk artists who have a passion and a need to express themselves in the only way they know how. Obviously, Les is their leader but that doesn’t negate the work of the other members… whatever their names are.
Born in New York City, Elise Parker never, ever let you forget the fact she was born in New York City. She claimed until her dying day to have never loudly cheered “Woooooo!” when a band would ask the audience “How’s everyone doing tonight?”
Born in Toledo, Ohio, Gary Kirkpatrick moved briefly to Cleveland before getting sick of the goddamn jokes and moving back to Toledo. He was a huge fan of the band Evanescence, once saying of them “Don’t ever tell anyone that Evanescence is my favorite band! That shit is fucking embarrassing.”
Born in an abandoned school bus somewhere outside of Kenosha, Wisconsin, Robert Oliphiler became known to his friends and family as “Scudnuts” after a childhood Razor scooter accident over hot asphalt. After later moving to Kenosha, he could often be found asking to bum cigarettes outside of bars he’d been banned from.
Oh hey there, what are you doing in your free time at this coffee shop, staring at your phone? Catching up on some emails, maybe doom scrolling, that’s cool. Me? Oh, I’m just over here trying to figure out the nature of the universe itself, no big deal. It’s not like this is a competition or anything. Except it is. And I’m winning.
There’s only one thing better than taking in a bonafide classic — looking like you’re taking in a bonafide classic. I don’t think I’ve actually retained a word of this thing for a good ten pages now, but the cuties at this Barnes & Noble Starbucks cafe wouldn’t know it because I periodically nod and make a little “mmm” noise.
Nothing says “I am a loyal yet dangerous alpha” like reading ‘The Art Of War” in public. This classic Eastern meditation on the nature of conflict is full of wisdom that can be applied to almost any situation. For example, Sun Tzu’s first lesson is to consider the terrain before a battle. That’s why I’m reading it on a bench outside a coffee shop with lots of foot traffic on a nice day.
Way ahead of you, Abbie Hoffman. This book could be called “Do Not Steal This Book Under Any Circumstances Under Penalty Of Death’ and Barnes & Nobel’s policy of not physically touching customers or preventing them from leaving in any way will remain the same.” It’s a bit dated, sort of like ‘The Anarchist Cookbook’ if The Jolly Roger said “jive turkey” a lot.
I look okay reading this in public as long as I’m not reading it in my hometown. Unfortunately, I never left my hometown so I have to disguise myself if I wanna read it in the condo parking lot that used to be a park.
A few years ago, I might have put this one up toward the top. This book made me look much smarter before it had 6 degrees of separation from Amber Heard’s feces.
Did you know that every story is about change? Of course, you did. But have you read a long-winded nearly incomprehensible chunk of academia that essentially boils down to that? I thought not, rube. Truth be told I can barely understand a word of this thing, but I watched Dan Harmon drunkenly rant about story circles for 20 minutes on a podcast live-stream so I think I get it.
You might be thinking that the cats out of the bag on this being a fake-smart person book, and you’re right, but that’s what makes reading it in public such a move. It’s the literary equivalent of wearing a dumb t-shirt you found at a thrift store. There you are with some quality novel on your nightstand that you just can’t seem to make time for and here I am with the intellectual security to read trash fiction in public. It implies that I read so much I can afford to slum it.
If you think ‘Infinite Jest’ isn’t on this list you’re dreaming. Reading that magnum opus is an accomplishment that I am proud to make people think I have done. But consider the merits of David Foster Wallace’s lesser works, like this collection of essays. Sure it’s not as formidable looking as “Infinite Jest,’ but that makes it more portable, and if you’re bothering to read this people might assume you’ve already read ‘Infinite Jest’ and you’re just hungry for more DFW footnotes. Plus there’s a dope story about porn award shows I actually almost read all of.
Yup, just a guy sitting on a bench reading some Vonnegut in public, thinking the big thoughts, seeing through the bullshit, no big deal.
This won’t get you much notice in normal environments, save for the occasional Ozzy fan who will loudly sing a mispronounced “Mr. Crowley!” at you. But in the right setting, this or any Crowley book is worth its weight in gold. I was king for a day flipping through this thing at a goth flea market one time. Just be prepared to riff your way through a conversation about “the left-hand path,” whatever that means.
I’ve spent 10,000 hours trying to look smarter than I am and I owe it all to the O.G king of fake smart people, noted Lolita Express alumni Malcolm Gladwell. I have no idea what this particular book is about, but if I know my boy it’s full of outrageous claims followed by tedious little anecdotes proving that they are technically, from a completely asinine clickbait perspective, true.
Are you looking for a book that will tell the world “I am the most particular and brooding mother fucker doing laundry today”? Look no further than Camus’ ‘The Stranger.’ Oh, the dryer is gonna take 35 minutes? Cool, let me take in this World War II-era existential novella about how shitty things get when you kill someone even if you’re a completely indifferent person. It pairs nicely with my shitty noise-bleeding headphones that let anyone in a 15-foot radius know I’m listening to The Cure.
This is another great book ruined by a movie fanbase. Reading “Fight Club” in public will most likely elicit an eye-roll at best. At worst, you’ll get a “his name is Robert Paulson” and then you’ll need to move towns and change your identity.
Yeah man, the beats man. Dig how I’m reading ‘On The Road’ in public. Who am I? Am I a crazy jazz freak all hopped up on bennys and grass, killing time before I go hop a few rail-cars to a new city on a quest to find the beautiful heart of America? Or am I just on a break from my shift at Urban Outfitters? You don’t know. All you know is I am one deep cat who gets IT man.
While the name is completely different, this book was actually the basis of the cult sci-fi film ‘Blade Lasers.’ It takes place in a distant future where everyone has a cool jacket, and Harrison Ford needs to find the grail of Christ before the evil Galactic Empire gets it and destroys the sun. There’s just one problem — robots. Can Agent Detective get them to sleep before it’s too late? You’ll have to read it yourself to find out. And then let me know.
Or anything Nietzsche really, just get yourself spotted interacting with the brand and people will get the hint that you’re a serious sort of person and they should be intimidated. Nietzsche’s work was edited after his death to better fit Nazi ideology, which is a shame because it tarnishes his otherwise beautiful message — God is dead and the universe is basically PTSD. Bust this one out when someone nearby is reading something that makes them look smart, and you want to one-up them.
Sure, you pretend to know that communism works on paper, but are you willing to go the extra fake mile and pretend to do the leg work that fake proves it? I sure as hell am, especially at Gather, a local coffee shop/lLGBTQ+ community space where not enough people are noticing me.
When the master reads this book, it is almost as if he has read nothing at all. That’s the sort of rhetorical nonsense this book will arm you with all day. Reading this makes me the wisest person at this park, and if you disagree with me, I’ll just throw a bunch of symmetrical word-game sentences at you until you get a headache.
I consider myself a citizen of the world and have ever since my surrogate father figure Anthony Bourdain introduced me to the idea of travel on television. I’ve never actually been outside this country, but you would sure think I have the way I’m reading this book at a trendy eatery with sunglasses on. 