Last week I talked about “the Shrink,” the guy at the record show who thinks he knows everything about every artist that ever recorded. This week we move on to another one of my favorite characters: Mr. Random.

Mr. Random is the dude who comes into the twice-a-year record show with thousands of records in milk crates all around the floor and gets pissed off when the records aren’t in alphabetical order. I don’t expect everyone to be a hardcore collector like me, but it still makes me laugh when I see people get angry at randomness. Mr. Random was probably in his mid-40s or so and came in with his wife and two children. He immediately asked the seller, “Are these in any sort of order?” The seller told him that they were by genre only and that he was in the rock and pop section, with country, jazz, easy listening, etc., over on the far wall. After the seller walked away, Mr. Random started loudly complaining to his family: “How does he think anyone will buy any records if they aren’t in order?” Then he started flipping through the crates, you know, like ten records at a time, kind of looking in their general direction and feigning a bit of interest before walking away seemingly disgusted.

I really just wanted to answer his rhetorical question to his wife. “Who’s going to buy them? Well, pretty much everyone who comes here, sir, since you are clearly the only one that just stumbled across this record show. The rest of us are here because of the show, and I’m sure all of us don’t mind not having anything in order, and in fact most of us enjoy the fact that they are random because that’s part of the fun of the search.”

And yes, I completely realize that I sound like a record-show snob at this point, but I’m really not. Ninety-nine percent of the people that were at the record show were totally cool and, really, I couldn’t have cared less what they were doing or buying, but it’s the 1 percent that make for a good story.

NEW MUSIC FOR THE COLLECTION:
David Hasselhoff, Lonely Is the Night
Atlantic Starr, Brilliance
Jethro Tull, Under Wraps
Jethro Tull, Rock Island

More “C” artists to come as we try to keep up with the quality of last week’s songs with 20 more from the bottom of the Billboard Hot 100 chart in the ’80s.

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Here we go again — John C. Hughes and the world’s foremost Belinda Carlisle impersonator, a.k.a. his buddy Matty (or “Bearlinda,” if you prefer), knock back some booze and review some singles, homo style. This week your rainbeaux duo take a listen to songs by the B-52’s, R.E.M., Cheap Trick, Ace Frehley, and Nick Gilder while discussing high school rock bands, White Castle sliders, and Kate & Allie. Enjoy, and as always, MP3s of the songs are below so you can follow along at home.

The B-52’s — “Give Me Back My Man” (download)

R.E.M. — “Supernatural Superserious” (download)

Ace Frehley — “New York Groove” (download)

Cheap Trick — “Elo Kiddies” (download)

Nick Gilder — “Hot Child in the City” (download)

When I was a kid, my heroes were, at the very least, deserving of adoration. The Beatles, Rolling Stones, Cheap Trick, Dan Pastorini (the one non-musician of the bunch) — the one thing they had in common was that they were immensely talented at what they did. Some would say that they were among the very best, and thus, they seemed bigger than life to me and the millions who adored them. I was inspired by them and what I perceived to be their dedication to the craft. I also admired their shrewd understanding that a fair bit of marketing went a long way, too.

Of course, the music world is not just full of legendary artists such as those named above. For as long as there have been artistes, there have been those whose marketing overshadowed their artistic endeavors. I’m thinking along the lines of C.W. McCall, Taco, and — oh, what the heck — Sigue Sigue Sputnik.

Such one-hit wonders would invariably come out of nowhere, dominate the airwaves for every last second of their fifteen minutes of fame and then, thankfully, disappear into pop oblivion. The respectable artists who were temporarily swept aside to make way for this brief dalliance with the latest “here today, gone tomorrow” pop confection would then return to their rightful place on radio playlists and the ship would right itself.

I mean, acts like Tiffany, Sly Fox, After the Fire, and others had their success, but it was always understood that they’d go away. That’s what one- or two-hit wonders did. It was understood.

But then something weird happened.

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Although released in late 1977, the Saturday Night Fever soundtrack would be impossible to ignore for much of 1978, with the Bee Gees’ “Night Fever” and “Stayin’ Alive,” as well as Yvonne Elliman’s “If I Can’t Have You,” all reaching #1. At several points during the first half of ‘78, the soundtrack album was selling over 1 million units a week.

Bee Gees - Stayin’ Alive
Bee Gees - Night Fever (w/ More Than a Woman) (more…)

This column is dedicated to featuring those bands that aren’t household names but, to my ears, should be.

Growing up in a small town in southern Michigan, the closest major city was Chicago. We were still a good two hours away, though, so it was with great inconsistency that my little bedside transistor radio picked up Chicago rock powerhouse WLS (home of legendary rock DJ Larry Lujack). During the fateful summer of ‘79, while Cheap Trick enjoyed their first taste of national and international success, another Chicago band was also ruling the Windy City airwaves.

That band was Off Broadway, and the song was “Stay in Time,” the first single from their Atlantic Records debut, On. Comprised of simple elements — as is the case with all great rock songs — there was something about “Stay in Time” that was nevertheless unlike anything else. (more…)

With Popdose having just rolled off the showroom floor all shiny and new, still full of that “new car smell,” I am chuffed to the ‘nads to be a part of such a venture. Never before has such an intimidating conglomeration of blog talent been gathered to unleash their musical musings upon the world. Truth be told, you, faithful Popdose readers, are some lucky sumbitches.

Seriously, think of Popdose as a real-life Justice League — except, instead of skin-tight spandex, snazzy masks, and flowing capes, the superheroes of the Popdose variety are adorned in ripped sweats, t-shirts with all manner of long-defunct band, record company, or dot.com logos, and mandatory bathrobes with loads of rear ventilation. Don’t let appearances fool you, though. We’re bad-ass. For example, I’ve been known to tag a misbehaving neighbor kid from thirty paces with a well-aimed slipper without spilling a drop of morning java.

Being that the odometer has rolled clean past 999999 on yet another year and we prepare to write “2008” on all checks from this point onward, I’m betting that some of you are filled with a sense of hope that this year will somehow be better than ol’ ’07.

How the fuck could it not be?

To put it simply, 2007 was to music what Pamela Anderson-Lee-Rock-Salomon is to the institution of marriage.

Of course, it wouldn’t be a new year without the barrage of year-end Best Of lists being proffered by every nitwit who has ever fancied themselves a rock critic. So many critics, yet every list seem comprised of the same ten albums. Arcade Fire, Spoon, Feist, Amy Winehouse, Of Montreal, yada yada yada.

How can that be? Were only ten albums released in ’07?

That adult life is no different from high school is never more obvious than when you see critics the world over name-check the same small reservoir of bands and albums, unafraid to admit that they never really got around to listening to the new Sigur Ros CD, but feel compelled to place it high upon their lists nonetheless.

Round up these same scribes and relocate them to the nearest deserted isle with only their year-end Top 10 selections and a solar-powered iPod to keep them company, you can bet your sweet music-loving ass that each one of them would be throwing themselves from the highest cliff or chiseling away at their own ears with a monkey skull and crayfish claw within the hour.

See, that’s what happens when you listen to an Arcade Fire CD minus the roomful of irony-drenched hipsters and kitschy ambience of a slumming socialite’s Lower East End loft.

Airdrop a few copies of my “Antidote For Those Forced To Listen To Their Own Year-End Top 10 List Selections” (see below), and watch just how quickly the last remaining survivors remove their necks from the noose and embrace the care packages with tears pouring from their bloodshot eyes.

If only they hadn’t lopped off their ears and tossed the bloody lumps into the sea that first day.

My irony-free wish for 2008 is that great music is made, embraced, and praised to the ends of the earth by those in a position to bring about change from the sickening sameness that has tainted the well these past umpteen years.

Various Artists/Antidote For Those Forced To Listen To Their Own Year-End Top 10 List Selections (Hey, You Kids! Records)

Beatles - Revolution (acoustic)
Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers - Mary Jane’s Last Dance
Cheap Trick - On Top Of The World
Slow Runner - Usual Chords
Heavens - Dead End Girl
Romantics - What I Like About You
Tourists - Week Days
Guster - One Man Wrecking Machine
Replacements - Talent Show
R.E.M. - At My Most Beautiful