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(Steven J Wilson)

 I wrote a column called DITB (Down in the Basement) for the Tornado, the greatest community newspaper ever with a four-month lifespan. I didn’t exactly write reviews. I had other people do that; I edited them. Nope, I just kinda went on about whatever was on my mind at the time related to popular music. DITB was probably the first place outside of New York or London where someone raved at length about the Strokes. I went on for a few hundred words about Weezer once. I have no idea what inspired that. 

DITB did follow the rules of journalism. I did my best to research shit. Fact check. Include details. I guess that is where SPEW will divert from DITB. For SPEW I fully intend to forget names, get facts wrong, neglect to give complete titles, and otherwise write irresponsibly. 

Reverberations is the name of my music blahg. Reverberations dates from my days at the KC Free Press, the best online KC news and culture resource ever with a four-month lifespan. See a theme emerging? My late friend Greg Trooper (a wonderful singer-songwriter) used to joke that every label he ever recorded for went out of business. Anyway, I guess I’m the Greg Trooper of rock writing. If I am, being the Greg Trooper of anything is a pretty great thing to be. 

Sometimes I get together with my old pals Nate and Doug. We get addled and play music real loud - introduce selections breathlessly and profanely, prioritize bad humor over analysis, and generally have a gay old time blasting tunes. SPEW is rock writing in that spirit. Call it expressionism. Call it shit. Call it a waste of time. If you get a kick out of it, read it.


SPEW is made possible by Apple Music, which has saved me from the ignobility of illegal downloading. God knows I can’t afford all the goddamn records I intend to write about. 

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SPEW crowns the 41st - 50th best Albums of 2017. Wowzers!

(Steven J Wilson)
Here it is, ladies and gents and humans of all genders and description! Your BEST ALBUMS OF 2017. * Okay, not really. It's 41-50. Hey, pretty damn good records. It's a competitive world.  41.   Chain and the Gang – The Best of Crime Rock (In the Red) 42.   Protomartyr – Relatives in Descent (Domino) 43.   Vivienne – STUD  (Objects Ltd.) 44.   Flamin’ Groovies – F antastic Plastic (Severn) 45.   Kyle Craft – Girl Crazy (Sub Pop) 46.   Bully - Losing    (Sub Pop) 47.   Idles – Brutalism (Balley) 48.   Lee Ranaldo – ElectricTrim  (Mute) 49.   James Elkington – Wintres Woma ( Paradise of Bachelors) 50.   Filthy Friends – Invitation (Kill Rock Stars) Let's have a look: Ian Svenious has been a savvy mainstay of Ameri-indie in the post-hardcore era (you know, like, the last thirty years), with groups like Nation of Ulysses, Make-Up (the ...
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Today, the Whiffs

(Steven J Wilson)
Yesterday I called L.A.’s Starcrawler the greatest rock ’n’ roll band in the world.   Today, it’s the Whiffs.   A power-pop band from Kansas City. I recommend the Whiffs if you like Norwegian black metal. Not because they sound like Mayhem or Gorgoroth, but because there are laws against church burning and the Whiffs would never incite such a thing. Their songs are about various stages of infatuation, the yoozh for power-pop. Cheery melodies in bright keys with sprightly tempi tend not to mulch into diatribes against the Caliphate. Although a lot of shit rhymes with Caliphate … hmm (I can hear Joey Ramone rhyming Caliphate with ‘too late.’). But clearly, I digress.   Take a Whiff is a blast. Eight shots of tuneful adrenaline. Okay, one song is ALMOST three minutes - a veritable jam. But you can fade it out. No problem (kidding). Not a token slow dance dragger on this puppy. Mid-tempo and up-tempo. There’s never a reason for a pop band to do a slow song unles...
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John Murry, gutter Gothic poet from Tupelo.

(Steven J Wilson)
A call went out from central casting for a singer-songwriter. A particular sort. The call out read as thus: Wanted, man in black type figure, roots in the Deep South, profound experience with drugs and heartbreak, think Flannery O’Connor protagonist who time warps into a Lou Reed fan. John Murry applied. He got the job. All other interviews were canceled. Based on his previous solo recording The Graceless Age , his previous work with Memphis legend/recluse Bob Frank, and his resemblance to Hazel Motes … well, it was no contest. The first thing I had to get over about John Murry was how fucking much he sounds like his friend Chuck Prophet. I think they must share a larynx.  The second thing I had to get over about John Murry was how close in sensibility he is to Nick Cave. The American South and Australia have a lot in common. Most of it ugly, but damned if it doesn’t make for great lore.  Okay, I’m over it, whatever it is. A Short History of Decay is ...
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