My usual outlet stocks lots of yummy, yummy Boylan’s, but not usually the grape. It’s less distinctive than the rest of the line, but pretty good; a very slight tartness makes it worth getting again (and justifies the oddly lavender shade of purple paint on the bottle).

I thought I was getting this for the three tracks at the end I didn’t have, but it seems I also needed a reminder of how great Sunburn (half of which ended up on this best-of) was.

I left the store holding this disc and trying to remember if I had ever, even once, found a remix album truly worthwhile. Memory still fails me. For the most part Shhh… showcases the art of production more than the art of remixing, as those terms are generally understood; in other words, it’s like listening to a handful of Ida songs repeatedly under different circumstances.

The odd thing is that I’ve heard and enjoyed a lot of songs from Smog’s lo-fi period. I just had a mental block about buying any until I heard this over the PA at the record store. Seems sublime… kind of how I thought Lambchop ought to sound based on their reviews.

So, clearly that fade-away aftertaste isn’t just a sugar-free soda thing. I still don’t like it; tastes hollow.

Bought this desultorily when it came out, but let it moulder. It’s not the grand old Phelps version of Silkworm, and yet you know, some of this is fine, fine material. Silkworm used to be all about catharsis, and no longer is; because I’m me I want to come up with an analysis of how they’re somehow still doing the same thing but on a different level, except that I’ve thought a little and no such analysis is forthcoming. Anyway, they’ve really lost very little except for what they’ve intentionally cast aside. In fact, I can’t stop listening to this.

Maybe those immune to arrogance feel this way about the Strokes; lots of Pavement and Grifters, a little Squeeze. The damnedest thing about the Strokes is that despite not liking them — despite not even thinking their MUSIC is that interesting one way or the other — they’re such a little microcosm of music-business factors that they probably come up in my comments on other records more than anyone else. Those naughty, naughty Strokes.

This sat on my shelf unopened for months; I finally learned it featured Paula Frazer, whose twangy pop album Indoor Universe from last year I liked. Tarnation seem much more traditionally country; not my thing.

Exactly the same flavor as the “root beer barrel” hard candies I used to suck on as a kid: all mint.

I bet I had a good reason for buying this. It makes sense, because if I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have bought it. And then I wouldn’t have it now. Yup. There must have been a reason.