Red's CD Project Story 2: Part 4 – Reap

Note: OK, so this part is long. Really long. Believe it or not, this is what I intended to write in the very first section before I realized I had to get here first. This was a hard section to write due to it being first person for much of it. Dialogue, in the form of storytelling, is hard. If I go back and edit and clean this up, this part will likely need a lot of work. But, for now, I hope you enjoy. 

Disc 1
Track 4: House of Doom – Black Label Society

“They say you reap what you sow. Hell, if that ain’t a fact”

Nestor turned his back and, for a second, Oan considered driving the spear, which was still lying across his chest, between the old man’s shoulder blades. He had asked the questions that had been running through his mind and his soul since pulling Nestor from the Belnor, but now he was not entirely sure he wanted to hear the answer. His chance for attack slipped as Nestor glanced over his shoulder, the light hitting the ridge of the scar that ran down his face. He thought both Nestor’s mouth and the scar grinned daring him to try.

Oan instead tossed the spear aside, rose from the fire, his skin healing fully as he did. He fed a few more logs into the flames and dropped to the ground. Doom settled over Oan as Nestor’s voice started with a low rumble that seemed to echo off the dark sky and reach the ears of Old and New Moon. Oan heard movements from the camp, but he knew as that as long as the voice spoke that the Aldroubi would stay away knowing not to interrupt a telling such as this. While the story conjured evil, the spirits of the forest, of the river, of the wild and of the earth would want to hear. Interrupting would only incur their wrath.

Nestor began, perhaps with a tear running down his cheek although it very well could have been a cold sweat. Oan was not close enough to tell.

“Aye, the Sorna watch failed. On the day a thousand season cycles ago that Tarek Grandar cast Salama to his tomb in the sand, he posted two-dozen towers along the sprawl of the barren land to watch for the demon’s return. He blessed the men charged to give watch, but cursed them if they failed. The men of watch came from the city of Noce, heart of the great kingdom of Nocnil, one of the seven great kingdoms of the old age. If I may add, the only one of those great kingdoms that remains, unless of course you believe the tales and such of Arna, which they say is west of the Sorna. Don’t believe them boy! Everything dies west of Noce. Only the damned come back from those sands.

“Since that day men have been trained to watch the sand blow and shift across the vast wasteland. It takes a keen eye, my boy, it does and a strong heart. Most of all your taught the tale of Salama, of Tarek and his blade Lunar. To watch, because even today, those in black cloaks try their hand at the desert to find the hidden tomb, deliver a baby of pure stock and bring the demon back to life. But for years, those in the black cloaks have dwindled and all but disappeared from the earth. The watch grew uneventful and boring.

“Arrogant and restless were youngest men of the watch. Too good, they were to watch sand and their time too valuable to guard against an old fantasy. Too many days, too many nights, they left their posts unwatched. I warned them, I being the oldest still alive. I could feel a change, smell it you know, in the dust kicked up by the wind.

“Then one day, I spotted his ashen corpse top a golden dune far off in the distance. Even with my sharp eyes, I had to squint to see the demon. I was alone atop my tower and I sounded a horn, but no one came. As the day drew on, I blew the horn more as the bedeviled man closed in leaving a black trail of dead steps in the sand. He arrived as the sun burned its way to the underworld and behind me Old Moon’s cracked face peaked over the horizon.

“The demon recoiled at the sight of Old Moon. I think the old wound from Lunar flared just then and Salama thought of Tarek Grandar and the blade born from Old Moon’s own face. I saw it all on the demon’s face, you see, because I wasn’t bout to forfeit my tower and my honor without a battle.

“I’d been trained and tested, my boy. I had lived through battles and brawls. I was good boy, as you can now attest. But I knew that no sword or staff of mine would pierce this demon’s skin. My only defense was the old skins filled long ago with the icy waters of the Belnor where it touches the heavens (where it is at its most pure) brought by Tarek Grandar and placed in each tower. It was said the Belnor water, once thrown on the demon, would extinguish the fires boiling in his blood.

“So armed with nothing more than a skin of water, I rushed down the stairs of my tower and met the man that torched kingdoms and nearly devoured all the world.

“He was like no man I’ve seen. His skin, nay, it wasn’t skin. It was flaky and black, not like those of the men from the south, but like ash and some blew off in a strong wind. The demon had four arms, two from his shoulders like you and I, and another short pair from the side his chest. He wore a black robe that covered his naked chest. There were no pupils to his eyes, just a clear surface that changed colors and tones from purple to red to a milky white. There was little else to the form to his face, just subtle features that had not yet taken shape. My current scarred features pale in ugliness to that monstrosity.

“In a scabbard was the black sword he received from the lord of the underworld so long ago. In his hand, a whip was unfurled, but not naturally dangling. It was coiled and tense.

“His ugliness burned at my eyes, but I could not look away and he did not speak for I do not think he had a tongue. Least not one that had grown through the ash and decay yet. Nor did I speak because I knew there was no reasoning with a demon. Only action in the ways of the demons and such – ill-intentioned action that scars and carves great craters of agony in the light.

“I fumbled with the skin, unscrewing a cap sealed for what I thought was centuries, but I knew straight away that the treachery that had reborn this monster had sullied my only defense. The water inside was warm and dirty. The kind of water I was bathed in as a babe and drank all my days. This was no Belnor water. This was water from Serj, a nasty pool south of Noce. Someone, likely a man of the Sorna Watch, had replaced the true water. A shame and a curse, I put upon that unknown man every morning when I awake.

“Alas, I sprayed the water anyway at the demon and he didn’t so much as flinch. All I heard was slight crackle like pissing on a fire as it landed on his ashen skin and then nothing. I swear the demon smiled then revealing a row of razor sharp teeth and a fiery abyss beyond.

“Then he cracked his whip once with a grin and then unleashed its hell. It snapped and whizzed.

“Now boy, I’m fast. Even for a man whose hairs are gray and back is weak, I was quick enough. I snatched the tip from the air with my right hand. The sting pierced my skin, but my speed did impress the demon. I held the whip contemplating pulling it hard. Then I heard a snap, then a crack. In my hand, the tip of the whip was biting away at my first two fingers. The whip had a face of a snake that had a full mouth of teeth and venom. I shrieked pulling away, the snake grinned taking my two fingers with it.

“The pain coursed through my arm and I feared a poison that may burn through my soul. I was paralyzed as I fell to my knees. The sand below seemed to be swallowing me up. The whip or the snake or whatever the cursed thing was slithered along ground toward me, hungry for blood, for bone.

“The last I remember was it stiffening once on the ground and then uncoiling toward my face. It’s jaw unhinged, gorging down my face then plucking my eyeball straight away from my socket. There a wet noise, my boy, when your eye leaves your skull. One that haunts my dreams and turns my insides even to this day.

“I screamed and everything after was black. I didn’t dream. I didn’t stir. For hours, nay it may even been days, my blood soaked into the Sorna. Why the demon or the snake didn’t finish me, I cannot say. I reckon the horror and shame of my failure was more pleasurable to the demon then my demise.

“For when I awoke that’s what I was forced to confront in the form of a string of corpses lining the road back to Noce. All of them men, of which many were men of the watch that had answered my horn’s call too late.

“The men were devoured, ruined and drained of their blood. They appeared to be corpses left in the sand for months, not one’s lying there for less than a day. With each, the jaws were wrenched open in a final scream of horror. The first few, I stopped and wept by. Then the numbers became too many, the feeling inside too numb.

“But I tell ya, boy. What was done to the men was terrible, that’s for sure. I soon discovered though, it was much more favorable to the fate of the women. That hell, along with a poison slowing coursing through my veins, sent me on the run to the waters of the Belnor.”

1001 Albums (401-415): If I Should Fall From Grace With God - Infected

Note: Back by popular demand, we get a wide variety of acts and sound here especially at the top of the list. I think Snake will have plenty to write about from this group.


The Good

If You Can Believe Your Eyes and Ears (1966) by The Mama’s and The Papa’s

Jon Phillips song writing ability melded with the unique harmonizing vocals, which was the staple of the group. The hippie aura, fat Mama Cass, hot Michelle Philips, they are still part of pop culture lore. This album features hits “Monday, Monday,” “California Dreamin’”, and “Go Where You Wanna Go.”

Ill Communication (1994) by Beastie Boys

A turning point for the Boys as they transitioned from a young strictly party group to a group of guys trying to say something. Jumping off this album is “Sabotage” that, along with its classic video, became one of the biggest, most important tunes of the 1990s. Definitely an album that belongs on this list!

Imagine (1971) by John Lennon

Probably the biggest post-Beatle album, Imagine is an all-star cast, No. 1 blockbuster. The title track is the probably the singular song people think about when they here Lennon’s name. It’s his mantra, his biggest idea. “How” and “Jealous Guy” are the two other tracks that hit it really big as singles.

In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida (1968) by Iron Butterfly

Most people would say that one song does not make an album, but in this case their wrong. Without the 17 minute title track, Iron Butterfly likely would never be talked about again. While I don’t know if people need to own this album, they do need to hear it once or twice in their life. It’s an experience like no other. “Hey Marge, we used to make out to this hymm.” I had to sneak that in.

I Never Loved A Man The Way I Love You (1967) by Aretha Franklin

Possibly one of the most important female albums of the century, it hits right away with the cover of Otis Redding’s “Respect.” From there, Franklin mixes in covers with self wrote, self-accompanied tunes that displayed the freedom Atlantic records gave her.

The Middle

I’m A Lonesome Fugitive (1967) by Merle Haggard

Haggard saw Johnny Cash play at San Quentin and realized that there was a big market with former convicts singing country songs. Haggard, an ex-convict released a string of albums focused on his past, this being the height of his self-exploration.

I’m Your Man (1988) by Leonard Cohen

Cohen is a poet that decided to sing his poem. I haven’t made it through many of his songs, but he has a signature voice and his lyrics (always strong) usually are dripping with either sexuality or humor (often both). I am not familiar with these songs, but might be worth looking up.

In A Silent Way (1969) by Miles Davis

This is a stepping-stone to the later high point of Davis’ career “Bitches Brew.” This album features two 20-minute songs that use silent moments as part of the effect. Also appearing are Herbie Hancock and Chick Corea.

The Best of the Rest

If I Should Fall From Grace With God (1988) by The Pogues

A nine-piece Irish band sounds like it might be fun to listen too. It’s kind of fun, drinking kind of music.

The Rest

If You’re Feeling Sinister (1996) by Belle and Sebastian

Well these two Scots were a big mystery in the UK as they refused to make appearances often sending friends in their sted. They also used a former boxer (Stuart Murdoch) as their vocalist. Yet, the two barely-out-of-high-school kids seemed to make decent music.

I Had Too Much to Dream (Last Night) (1967) by The Electric Prunes

Here’s the best band name of the week. A group of teenagers plucked from their garage by a real estate agent, provided professional song writers that released an album that later inspired some punk bands in the 70s.

Illmatic (1994) by Nas

Here’s a rap album that unlike its contemporaries exposes the realities of the streets and gang life rather than trying to glorify them. Also infused with jazz to add depth.

Immigres (1984) by Youssou N’Dour

A Senegal star is born. I guess there are four songs here on a 34-minute album. That’s something to talk about.

Imperial Bedroom (1982) by Elvis Costello and The Attractions

Well it’s been awhile since we had an Elvis Costello album. Once again, here’s a simply amazing album that apparently no one really liked but critics. Maybe it’s good, I don’t know.

Infected (1986) by The The

Apparently this angry Brit, didn’t like Ronald Reagan, capitalism or AIDS. So he made this album with this silly, stupid band name.

Red's CD Project Story 2: Part 3 – Changing courses

Note: It may be a bad pun to say it was burning me to get this part started. I knew how I wanted it to go, I just didn't have time to write it. Unlike some other things I've written like this, I am tickling in more backstory as we move the current story forward. I think that's why it feels like a lot has happened even though, through three parts we're still by the fire. 

Disc 1

Track 3: All Messed Up – The Donnas

“You turn me inside out and upside down… Now I am all messed up”

Oan was a blur, grasping the spear and charging in one mesmerizing movement. Since a boy, he had lived by the hunt. Ten season cycles into life, he had slain a full-grown bear with this very spear and a stone. He still wore those bear’s teeth on a necklace around his neck. There was no man among the Aldroubi that could equal his speed, his stealth and his precision during a hunt. Oan was a born killer.

He skipped over the fire instead of going around, the spear point directed at the heart of Nestor, who didn’t so much as flinch until the spearhead neared the brown flesh poking out below the fur wrapped around his body.

Then Nestor was gone, disappeared to Oan’s eyes with some sort of magic. Oan could accept no other explanation; least of all being that Nestor was quicker and better than he. In fact, the old man from across Belnor had done the impossible dodging the spearhead with such speed that he seemed to leave wrinkles in air as he moved. Before Oan could react, the spear was tugged forward with his momentum carried with it. The world spun and he felt a leg sweep under his and, for an instant, he was staring at Old Moon’s fractured gaze before landing on his back with a thud and a crackle.

The thud was from a log; the crackle was from the fire. Nestor was atop him bracing the spear’s shaft against his chest. His wrinkled face and deadeye staring down with drool falling from his lips. Underneath Oan, the fire burned away at his body. He could feel the flames roasting away, the blisters forming and then one popped spewing forth his frozen blood.

Everything was silent then except for heavy breathing of two men as Oan’s lifeforce kissed the flames, which danced as if the blood was a new, better fuel. His blood dripped down and then the fire screamed and hissed at its touch as if doused with a bucket of water and then shot out in all directions colored blue and green instead of orange.

Oan heard his comrades drawn to the fire by the commotion, scream in horror at the flames. They saw Oan, the boy raised by the witch, pinned to the fire and yet not burning. For years, rumors had swirled about what the witch had done to him. Now, they were all sure that his blood and his body were polluted by some spell. His longtime tribesmen, some of them he considered friends, fled with screams. Oan knew the Aldroubi well. They would regroup their wits and mettle soon. Then they would come back with spears and bows and maybe even the swords of their grandfathers to drive him away. His time with the Aldroubi was over.

His gaze returned to Nestor’s face. The old man was unaffected by all that was around him. Oan felt the strange tickle of his skin healing on his back as his chilled blood was suffocating the flames. He pushed up against Nestor, but the man was ungodly strong.

“Stop you’s fighting,” Nestor voice was strained. He could not keep Oan down like this long. “I let you up soons enough, I will.”

He felt another flame spring up and heard his skin pop on his left shoulder blade. Shadows hit Nestor’s face, making him more ugly and deadlier all the same.

“I’s had you pegged from the start boy, so I did,” Nestor started with his strange accent thick again. “Those waters still chills me to the bone a day later. Yet, you go in neck-high to get me and you’s skin is burning hot by the time we reach the bank. While’s I sit here shivering by the fire, you’re bear-chested and brave.”

“My blood runs cold, old man,” Oan said trying more to push the man off.

“Stop it boy, I’ve been a-watch in the Sorna since well-before you walked this earth. No one’s blood runs warmer than mine, I’ll hold you hear all night if I’s have to.”

Finally, Oan ceased struggling and his felt Nestor’s grip loosen.

“Now, I’ll know one thing before I let you up and from there it’s likely we’ll both be going on our way.”

“What is it, cursed man?”

“Gentle, boy. I’ve tangled with one demon on this earth before and paid a great cost for it. I know one when I’s see it with my good and bad eye. So what is it boy? What sort of demon are ye?”

Over Nestor’s shoulder, Oan could make out New Moon’s blue curved smile. It calmed him a little even though he knew his life was forever turned from its coarse. The witch had told him that one such as him could never grow comfortable on one path because sooner or later he’d have to go another direction.

He settled on Nestor’s empty socket and he was the man saw best from that one.

“I am Oan Stoneheart. The Belnor has taken my breath once. Madra the Lurking Witch healed me with a curse. The blood in my veins runs forever like the Belnor’s iced waters. My course is set to the underworld for one final great battle, but that is a very long journey and one that meanders often.”

Oan stopped, gauging Nestor’s reaction. There was little asthis man had seen enough not to be surprised by tales of witches and curses.

“Now, tell me man of the Sorna watch. Does thee spy for Salama of the Sand since thee failed you’re watch? Or do you truly flee from his evil?”

The lines on Nestor’s face slackened and he stood up.

CD Project Review: Post Academia Part 2

Artist or Band: Death Cab for Cutie

Album: Plans

Why (or how) did I get this: I have a vague memory of seeing the video late one night after I finished work for “I Will Follow You Into the Dark.” Ironically, I don’t recall thinking much of it at the time. Fast forward a few (maybe many) months and I stumbled upon the video again. This time, it’s like I kind of like this sound. Eventually, I was swayed to buying the album. I guess first impressions aren’t always right.

Songs included: Marching Bands of Manhattan, I Will Follow You Into the Dark, Your Heart is an Empty Room, What Sarah Said

Why is that: Snake may have mentioned this, but the songs from this group are all very similar in sound and have strong lyrics. I love the way that “Marching Bands of Manhattan” opens the album and catches my attention. “I Will Follow You Into the Dark,” is the single from the album and the one that convinced me to buy it. The last two could have been shuffled in and out with two or three others songs from the album and I would not have had an problem with that.

Others that just missed the cut: Like I said there is a group of six or seven songs after “Marching…” and “I Will Follow…” that are all pretty even. If I had to do it over again, I may have only included those two and tried to work in a couple songs from other groups. Of the remaining songs, it wouldn’t hurt to check out “Soul Meets Body,” “Summer Skin,” and “Crooked Teeth.”

The bad: I don’t know if I would call these songs bad, but they are sort of the weak sisters of this album (at least in my opinion). I’d put both “Someday You Will Be Loved,” and “Brothers on a Hotel Bed,” as the two tunes I like the least.

The verdict: I really like listening to this album. It’s mixed well, it has strong lyrics and it tends to mellow me out. I need that sometimes.


Artist or Band: The Wallflowers

Album: Rebel, Sweatheart

Why (or how) did I get this: The Wallflowers are really the only active band that I’ve made a concerted effort to buy their music when it comes out. I bought this without ever hearing a song or seeing a music video. I just connect with this band. I am not going to say they do anything more remarkable than your average band or that they are better than most bands going. I just like their music and that’s that.

Songs included: God Says Nothing Back, From the Bottom of My Heart, Nearly Beloved, Days of Wonder

Why is that: First, I put “God Says Nothing Back,” because it’s reached a pretty high level on my favorite song list. Will it slide back gradually in time, perhaps, but I think it will always hang on. I know Snake was hoping I’d leave “God Says Nothing Back,” and “Nearly Beloved” off simply because he had went out and already listened to them because of thing I wrote. I had considered that, but struggled to leave them off after making a big deal about them. “From the Bottom of My Heart” was actually the song that struck me the most when I first started listening to this. Musically, I just love the sound. Lyrically, I think if you listen to it closely, you’ll hear a fairly dark story shrouded in what seems like a love song. “Days of Wonder” is the throwback of the album. I wanted something a little more upbeat to show that it wasn’t all slower, ballad –type stuff.

Others that just missed the cut: This four stand out among the rest. I think songs like “We’re Already There,” “I Am A Building,” and “The Beautiful Side of Somewhere” are on that next tier of tunes, but not quite as good. There’s third tier of fine songs, but not one’s that jump out at me for any reason.

The bad: I really don’t like the tune “Here He Comes (Confessions of a Drunken Maionette)” for some reason. I think if it were on another album, it may not bother me. But this is sort of heavy, brooding album, which makes this silly tune kind of stand out too much.

The verdict: If you don’t have it, get it. I’d say that for all four Wallflowers’ albums that I have. This is a band that makes a living on the hidden gem rather than the big single.




Artist or Band: The Velvet Underground

Album: The Best of the Velvet Underground

Why (or how) did I get this: I always loved the sound of Lou Reed’s voice and finally decided I needed to see what this band was all about. So I used one of my free choices from BMG to get this one.

Songs included: Pale Blue Eyes, Sweet Jane, What Goes On

Why is that: I knew that Snake already had some of the Velvet Underground so I wanted to steer away from the things that he had and toward stuff that he didn’t know. While Snake recoiled at the pacing and sound of “Pale Blue Eyes,” I was drawn to it. I hear in it the pangs of reality closing in on a group living in a way that couldn’t last. The other to picks are similar in that encapsulate the sound of the band. Not heavy, but quick and driven by the steady voice and eclectic background of sound.

Others that just missed the cut: Most of what didn’t make it was due to Snake already knowing it. “Beginning to See the Light,” would have been the next to go on the album from those not on the banana album. Otherwise, if you’re looking for good Velvet Underground tunes check out “I’m Waiting for the Man,” “Heoin” and “White Light/White Heat.:

The bad: I am not a big fan of “Femme Fatale,” and there are few tunes that seem to get lost or unnoticed when going through.

The verdict: Right before we started doing these CDs, I started really listening to this album. It had slipped through the cracks when I bought and collected some dust. I am glad that I took another look.

Red's CD Project Story 2: Part 2 – Stoneheart

Note: I've had this about 2/3 of the way wrote for the last week and haven't had time to finish it up till today. It strays a little from where I started, but I think it's turning out to be a nicely twisted tale. Enjoy and there's more to come. 

Disc 1
Track 2: Asleep on the Trail of Tears – The Louie’s

“He was made by God to make the playing field level”

A girl old enough for her bosoms to only start to blossom wailed at the name and ran off to the group of tents kept well away from the flames. She likely sought consolation of her mother’s tit. While many of Oan’s contemporaries would not believe it of the man they referred to as 'Stoneheart,' a part of him very much wanted to run and hide as well.

Fear was a foreign entity in Oan’s veins. When he was boy, four season cycles into life, he had made the same error in judgment that Nestor had by entering the icy waters of the Belnor. Since then, his blood flowed slow and cold and his skin sealed wounds before they could grow and infect and his heart was solid, heavy like a stone. It was truth he kept secret, but it was evident in his boldness and bravery. He did not fear.

His decision to enter the Belnor had been guided by a child’s ignorance and want for a toy boat that had escaped his grasp and started a voyage in the current while he was playing along the banks of the great river. Oan gave chase, his small legs pumping well away from his home village, from his mother and toward the end of his young life.

His boy legs burned trying to keep pace with the toy as it sped along. Tears and snot streaked his face as he trailed behind. Far away he heard a voice calling, but he could not afford a backward glance.

The knee-length grass was wet and clung to his bare skin. The weight of emotion was bearing down on his shoulders and his will to continue lagged. As he slowed, the boat skimmed off a log half submerged in the river with the other half buried deep into the bank. The boat spun in the current but away from the middle of the river. Instead, it made route to a still pool blocked from the current by a harbor of sort made by the bank jutting out. It stopped in the middle, but well away from his reach.

The old ones said that spirits dwelled in the murky waters and, on that day, the boy found those old tales to be true. As he extended his arm out trying in vain to grab the toy, he heard their voices calling to him, begging him to join them. At first he clapped his ears shut with both hands to block out the noise, but that did not stop the screeching, yet seductive voices.

He extended his am out once more in an half-hearted attempt. His attention was more on the ripples of the pool and how each sparkled as each lazy wave pushed out from the center. The voices sang out in unison, the words unintelligible to his ears, but his heart understood them perfectly. The spoke the old language, he would find out much later, but that day he knew only one word. It reverberated in his bones, his blood, his heart – “Come.”

And he did.

Head first into the pool with a little splash and a thousands prickles of pains stabbing into skin, he came to the voices. He re-emerged once to find the sky had turned red then dropped below the water level once more. The spirits attacked his ears in a million voices in a hundred languages. The only other noise he remembered was the thump of his heart, but then that went silent and all went dark.

Then there was only darkness and falling.

He remembered nothing more till he awoke in the arms of the witch.

Oan shuddered by the fire remembering her icy grip and her shining green eyes. From many worlds, she claimed to be from. Once she told him that in another world, she was called the Witch of the Weeping Woods and that her son was a Dragon slayer. In Oan’s world, she was Madra the Lurking Witch.

Oan had lost himself in the flames, when he looked up to see Nestor with his one-eyed stare. A memory tickled from that day as a boy in the waters of the Belnor. It came just before his heart beat for the last time. All the voices stopped all at once and rang out in one terrible screech of a name.

That name had been on Nestor’s lips when Oan pulled him from the water. Now again, by the fire, the stranger uttered the name again.

“Salama.” The cursed name of old, the name that haunted Oan’s dreams since that day he fell in the waters of the Belnor. Not even the witch could stop his nightmares. Now they had come to life.

Oan seized a spear lying next him and charged Nestor.

Snake's Reaction: Get A Haircut & Get A Real Job pt 3

Part 2: http://sbrlists.blogspot.com/2009/11/snakes-reaction-get-haircut-get-real.html

Kool Keith: I'm Seein' Robots from 'Black Elvis/Lost In Space'

I got this album from BMG. It was on a list of the 50 Greatest Albums you've never heard. I was already a fan of 'Dr. Octogenecoligst', so I thought it was worth the try. I'm Seein' Robots is probably the easiest song to understand the meaning outside of the context of the album. Basically half of the album is through Black Elvis's perspective, including the women who want all this stuff and look at the same as every other woman, being basically robots. The other half of the album goes into sci fi themes and the idea of being lost in space. Clifton, Livin' Astro, Keith Turbo, and Intro are entertaining songs. The Intro consists of the lyrics, "This is the intro." In some way that strikes me as genius, and a sample of Keith's sense of humor.

Verdict: Never for the faint of heart. His hooks are catchy and erratic at the same time. His raps will blow you mind if you can keep up.

System of a Down: Lonely Day from 'Hypnotize' and Sad Statue, Old School Hollywood from 'Mezmerize'

I was well aware of Red's opinions on SOAD going into this, so I tried to find some stuff that represented a little bit different side of their music from this split double album. I thought Old School Hollywood was just quirky enough for his approval. Lonely Day tears at my heart every time I listen to it, you feel it in Doran's voice. Sad Statue is probably the best political message out of the group, something you can always count on from them. Still, I think there would be more to please Red's ear out of this album.

Verdict: You like Lonely Day, then be sure to here Soldier's Side. The softer heartbreak of Day with the good support of our soldiers. I think I should have picked Lost in Hollywood, quirky yet with more passion in its message. Question! has a bit of that screeching to it, but the song structure is very good. There is something here from everyone, and I will never stop trying to shove it down Red's throat. :)

The Zutons: Confusion, Dirty Dance Hall from 'Who Killed...'

I believe this was another recommendation from BMG and probably the best one I ever got. I love this album inside and out. They mix current and old sound. They are fresh but familiar. From the opening riff of Zuton Fever, the album just sort of feels alive. I love it when bands mix in horns. I haven't gone out listening to any of their follow up albums. That is something I need to do.

Verdict: It is hard to pin down any song that is a must listen to above another. Zuton Fever, Pressure Point, You Will You Won't, Havana Gang Brawl, Railroad, Nightmare Part II, and Moons and Horror Shows are all classics in my mind.

Tenacious D: Tribute from 'Tenacious D'

Yes it is old and predictable Jack Black, but it still makes me laugh. I thought about some of the other tracks and maybe I should have went for something not a popular, but Red said he didn't have the D.

Verdict: Kielbasa is a nice sexual song, F*%$ Her Gently just makes me laugh, The Road sounds like a Molly Hatchet song and City Hall is a nice little story song to finish out the album. Don't take it too seriously, just enjoy the humor and the tributes to rock n roll.

Snake's Encore: Hot Shots II - If Only I Could Remember My Name

In Snake's Collection:

Hybrid Theory - Linkin Park

This album really sticks out as a turn of the century time piece. Like they finally got the rock/rap formula right and made some good songs. The problem is they didn't change that formula and have since faded it seems. I like this album, alot of anger and pain in the lyrics.

Hunky Dory - David Bowie

This is easily the most important, influential album in this group. This represents the transitional period for Bowie from the early Rock N Roll roots to the glam rock that he would basically invent. The music is more laid back, but the lyrics are deeply expressive and directly lay out Bowie's new career direction. The first track, 'Changes' puts it all out in the table from the start. "Strange fascinations, fascinating me. Changes are taking the pace I'm going through." The gem of this album will forever be 'Life On Mars?' The lyrics are cut up, imaginative and give everyone a different impression of what is going on. The tune grabs you and makes it want to sing along, but you are forced to listen hard to the words and decipher what it means to you. When I first heard this song a couple years ago, it was a transcendent experience. It is the single best example of Bowie's genius. 'Oh, You Pretty Things' is a catchy interesting tune in which Bowie sings of the ending of the Homo Sapien race in favor of the Home Superior, saying "Earth is a bitch". There is something in the way he says bitch that seems to always catch my ear. 'Quicksand' also deals with the influence of Nietzsche's idea of the Overman. The majority of the album is based on tributes or stylings from the various musical/artistic influences in Bowie's life. 'Kooks' is a song for his newborn son that is in the style of the early 70's Neil Young record he was listening to. 'Queen Bitch' is a tribute to Velvet Undergound and their style. 'Andy Warhol' and 'Song for Bob Dylan' are self explanatory tributes although I read that Andy Warhol didn't like his song because he thought Bowie was poking fun at his physical stature. Bowie somehow takes all these influences in his life and weaves them back into this tapestry that is all his own. True Genius.

Good Stuff

Hysteria - Def Leppard

It is hard to deny this song line-up that reads more like their greatest hits. Tragedy seems to bring out the best in rock groups (a la "Back In Black"). Although I still hear more people talk about "Pyromania" than this album. I really don't know why.

BIGGEST SNUB THUS FAR

Houses of the Holy - Led Zeppelin

This is probably my second favorite Zep album and represented a major turning point for the band as it was the first with completely original material, displayed a new direction using more studio techniques and most obviously, the first not named after the band. 'The Crunge' is the best hidden gem among Zep albums. The funky bass line and musical style of this song is like nothing else in their catalogue. 'Over The Hills And Far Away', 'Dancing Days', 'The Song Remains The Same', 'D'yer Maker', and 'The Ocean' are still staples of classic rock radio. 'No Quarter' is epic. 'Rain Song' is beautifully done. This album and LZ IV represent the height of their musical prowess. No one should ever over look or under credit this album!

Other Notables

Human Clay - Creed

This album was everywhere! Literally, even one had a copy of this album. 'What If', 'Higher' and 'Arms Wide Open' were so good it pissed me off, because I had already taken the stance in high school that I didn't like Creed. It seems like the kind of album that would be in this book.

Hypnotize - System of a Down

This was the second half of the split double album, the first half being "Mezmerize". This album seemed to go even deeper with their lyrics and message as it was heavily built by Doran Malakian. The songs seem to flow better and are less frantic, most of the time. And I know Red liked 'Lonely Day' which I think sets up nicely for 'Soldier's Side' to finish the album and tie it back together with "Mezmerize" which featured 'Soldier's Side' as a short intro track. The album is still heavy and powerful when it needs to be, like the first song out the gate 'Attack'.

I Get Wet - Andrew W. K.

This frantic debut was a large part of my musical life for probably two years. It is a good time and all the songs just get into your blood and make you wanna sing, dance and go crazy. The album cover is awesome, too. It really sets a good stage for the rough ride ahead. And then just as fast as Andrew hit the big time, he faded back into obscurity. But man it was a wild ride.

Icky Thump - The White Stripes

This was a return to their roots after "Get Behind Me Satan". 'Rag And Bone', 'Little Cream Soda', 'Catch Hell Blues' and 'Effect and Cause' represent those blues roots (Baby Brother is actually a bonus track). There is a great cover of 'Conquest' on this album that is kind of a treat. 'You Don't Know What Love Is (You Just Do What You're Told)' is another one of those quintessential White Stripes songs. 'I'm Slowly Turning Into You' is a slow, whiny heart breaking song that seems to be a Stripes staple as well. 'St. Andrew (This Battle Is In That Air)' is an interesting Scottish influenced tune. A very good album all around.

1001 albums (386-400): Hot Shots II - If I Could Only Remember My Name

Note: I stuck to one line for most of these crappy albums. Not a good group with only two legitimate albums. Proceed with extreme caution.

The Good

Hybrid Theory (2000) by Linkin Park

This album was everywhere with hit singles “Crawling,” “One Step Closer” and “Crawling” climbing up the charts. A sure-fire diamond in this rough of crap albums.

Hysteria (1987) by Def Leppard

Probably the best album here with 7 U.S. hits including “Pour Some Sugar on Me.” This the first album with drummer Rick Allen playing with just one arm after a car accident.

The Rest

Hot Shots II (2001) by The Beta Band

There’s a scene in the John Cusack movie “High Fidelity” where he tries to sell five copies of the three LPs from The Beta Band. I find that to be the kind of trivia people like to learn.

Hounds of Love (1985) by Kate Bush

A British rocker who hit it big with this album split into two thematic parts.

The Hour of the Bewilderbeast (2000) by Badly Drawn Boy

I’d give this the best album title of this group and the music has a funky, fun sound.

Hunky Dory (1971) by David Bowie

Other than “Changes” I don’t think I know anything else on this album and I think we’ve about reached the limit of Bowie albums for this list.

Hunting High and Low (1985) by A-ha

We’ve all heard “Take On Me,” and I’d say that’s probably all we need to know about this album.

Hypnotised (1980) by The Undertones

This a power-punk from Northern Ireland – possibly hidden gem of this group.

Hypocrisy is the Greatest Luxury (1992) by The Disposable Heroes of Hiphoprisy

They call this dail-an-issue rap music, OK then.

I Against I (1986) by Bad Brains

This Washington D.C. punk band released a cassette only album, which seems the most notable thing here.

The Idiot (1977) by Iggy Pop

Here is Iggy’s contribution from his time spent in Berlin with David Bowie.

Idlewind (1988) by Everything But the Girl

A dance album hit from a UK band with a clever name.

I Do Not Want What I Haven’t Got (1990) by Sinead O’Connor

“Bald Banshee” that made a name with her cover of Prince’s “Nothing Compares 2 U.”

If I Could Only Remember My Name (1971) By David Crosby

A somber bunch of tunes recorded after the death of Crosby’s girlfriend in a car accident.

Journey Thru 6,500 Songs

Everybody Wants Some. That some seems to be different for every person. Some people, and I would currently put myself in this category, have no idea what it is that they want, they just want something. I struggled to make a birthday gift list. Things change over the years, my wishes usually on a whim. I definitely would not want a Cayonero or some other huge SUV. We have a mini van now, that is fine for me. Although I was asked what I would want if money was no object and I replied that I wanted a new fully rigged out F-150. Not gonna happen. If I had one, I wouldn't have a need for Maps anymore. It would have GPS guidance even though I go no where to need it, but for some reason I want that. I could drive off into the country and get lost looking for a home grown Jalapeno and then use the GPS to find my way back. It would have those fancy running lights, looking like a Neon Tiger running through the night sky ablaze of fire. It would frighten the creatures of the night, like that mountain lion I swore I saw a couple weeks ago run off into a corn field. My wife said it was a coyote. Logic would say she is correct, but I know what I saw. Perhaps it was a wolf, running back to its House of Wolves. I guess the correct term would be a den. Daniel and the lion's den was the bible story. Although I remember absolutely nothing about the story. Jonah and the whale, now that one. I at least remember he lived in the whale, somehow. I guess he had Nothin' To Lose really. You're already stuck in there, might as well make the best of the situation. Isn't that the true measure of the human spirit or some one's resolve. What do you make out of the bad situations? The Word I believe I am looking for is character. No that isn't it, and I have lost The Word I'm thinking of. That there is me in a Nutshell these days. I lose my trains of thought, I feel like I have wasted my brain. I used to take it for granted in school and cruised based on natural talent like some big shot sports player. Now I just ask it, Don't Let Me Down. Really I was the one that let it down. So maybe now it is trying to get back at me. Can I consciously be aware of a subconscious plot my brain has against me? Like we are two separate entities in the way that Homer Simpson always has conversations with his brain. Like we are Alone, Together, apart but one. I think I am realizing this makes absolutely no sense. And somehow that gives me peace.

Red's CD Project Story 2: Part 1 - Nestor

Note: So I wasn't going to post this today, but it seems like Snake has some time on his hands, so I thought I'd give him something to read. I started this yesterday an took about an hour to write a paragraph. I knew from the lyric where I wanted to go, but was struggling to get there. Like the last time, I don't know where I am going with this. Unlike the last time, this one section is very long. Could be interesting to see if I can keep this kind of length up (that sounded dirty).

Disc 1

Track 1: Three Fingers - Buckethead

“I spotted him like night sky plotted and star struck”

Old Moon with its fractured face was just escaping the underworld as Nestor, barefoot and with a bison-skin blanket draped over his shoulders, hobbled to the fire, crossed his legs and sat opposite of Oan. The paunch of his stomach peaked out from underneath with long, spiraling gray hairs spotting it. Old Moon lingered low in the sky praying that New Moon escaped their daily voyage through the sky of the dead. Moments later, New Moon, blue and curved, appeared.

Like Old Moon, Nestor’s face was scarred down the middle. An inch-wide crevice spotted with bright red sores started at the top of his forehead and cut downward between his eyes and then curved at his nose enough to only claim his left nostril. His right eye was sharp, scanning the crowd around the fire before settling on Oan. His left was no more than an empty socket that never closed and Oan thought, had the look of yearning to see again.

“I’s owed yar one for pullin’ me from the drink, young one over thar,” Nestor said, eyeing Oan with both his troubling eyes. “A mite frosty, it t’was, it t’was.”

Nestor clawed at his face where clumps of scraggly, no doubt flea-infested, hair grew. The day before Oan had found Nestor floating belly-up in the river. Instinct drove Oan to forfeit his hunt and rescue the stranger. The instant he dragged Nestor’s bloated, nearly blue body from the waters with the name of ancient omens slipping from his lips, Oan regretted not letting the man drown.

“A fool enters the Belnor. It’s waters run across a bed of ice in the heavens and never warm till they sizzle in the fires of the underworld,” Oan replied.

“So they do, so they do.” Nestor grinned accepting an earthen bowl full of stew. He brought the bowl to his jaws with his right hand that was missing its first two fingers. He held it there taking long, slow slurps that echoed accompanied by nasally wheezes from his one open nostril. He brought the bowl away from his face. Brown broth hung from the hairs of chin and his mostly toothless mouth beamed open as he chewed on a chunk of deer meat.

“Tis very good,” Nestor added hoisting the bowl up. “Bland to my tasters, but good nonetheless.”

Oan was growing tired of the man’s accent and the pitch of his voice. No one had crossed the Belnor since the days of the great flood had doubled its width. The waters were too choppy to risk the canoes, too cold to swim across. Yet, this man with his brown skin and his accented voice clearly was not one of the Aldroubi that hunted the eastern shores of the great river. He was from the west.

“Perhaps, not only a fool jumps into the Belnor,” Oan said. “Perhaps, a man running from shame would do the same.”

Oan eyed all of Nestor’s flaws and easily imagined him as a villain, a thief or defiler of young girls. Nestor’s good eye closed and he rubbed his temple with his thumb and two remaining fingers of his right hand.

“A bright boy you are,” Nestor started in again. “I could tell it even in my delirium after you scooped me from the waves, I could.”

Oan noticed some of the accent was gone, along with some of the jovial enthusiasm. The change worried Oan more than if Nestor were some sort of fleeing miscreant. A thief, Oan and his men could handle swiftly. No, Oan now believed some of Nestor’s appearance and behavior was an act, a subtle play to misdirect. If this man was so clever, maybe there were other more sinister reasons he jumped or maybe he was thrown into the Belnor. Nestor’s gaze never left Oan while these thoughts ran through his head.

“I can see the wheels a turning, my boy,” Nestor said with a short mocking laugh barely stifled from turning into a roaring chuckle. “I can see them well with this one good orb I have left. My sight has always been sweller than others.”

Nestor pointed to his right eye and smiled. For the first time, Oan was truly repulsed by the man. There was some sort of sick game being played here. Oan despised games.

“Are you a wizard?” Oan blurted out. The thought occurred to him as his lips asked the question.

“Nay, nay,” A sneer raised Nestor’s cheekbones and lines from a lifetime of woe raced out in wrinkles. All the friendly patter in his voice was gone. He cleared his voice as if to recite a long tale.

“You’re wrong about dat. But t’was right about one ding. I was running. I wish to gods above or below, I’d started running earlier. From the first, when I saw him striding out in the sands of the Sorna (a few of the old ones gasped at the name of mythical desert). I was manning my tower as I had all my days, when I spotted him from far off. He stood out all in black on the golden sands like Old and New Moon and all thar star droppings do on the night sky. I should have ran right den, I should. That mistake cost me my fingers and my eye, it did. And more den that, I warrant, I do.”

“Who did you see?” Oan asked over the lump in his throat. It was midsummer, the air still warm and the fire burned well, but Oan shivered.

Nestor leaned toward the fire, maybe warming the same shiver, but more than likely not wanting to say the name too loud. Shadows crept in the night, even east of the Belnor. They crept and waited. Nestor was no fool of a man.

“Salama, of course. Who else?”