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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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The people have spoken.

Cancer Rising, Goodnight Grant, So Long Jessi

(Steven J Wilson)
A few weeks back my urologist cut something out of my bladder. A papillary carcinoma, I think it is called. One more box to tick off on my Medical History, one more reason I’ll never buy life insurance: Cancer. Oh, I’m alright. Doc’s pretty sure they “got it.” Of course, having a cam and a cutter crammed up my prick may be a little more frequent feature of my life. But, so it goes. It goes, that is, until you’re gone. Grant Hart is gone. 56, cancer. Jessi Zazu is gone. 28, cancer. I scroll through my Facebook friends – Jesus, lots of gone ones. Most gone to cancer. Devin, Greg – hell, so many. Shit’s in my family, too. My in-laws and my sister-in-law have had their battles with the stuff. My mom was lost to cancer, at 73. She’d be 100 in October. My dad followed her three years later; he was 87. He would have been 109 yesterday if he was from the Caucasus Mountains and ate lots of yogurt. Cancer? Nope. Heartbreak. It happens. Saul Bellow understood. Oh,...
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Robert Pollard and Richard Davies were COSMOS. At least in 2009. I like to keep up to date.

(Steven J Wilson)
I’ve been such a good lad. Writing almost like a responsible journalist. That’s not a bad thing, but I promised myself (and you) that SPEW would be a place for more dashed off bits.   Well, here’s one.   Cosmos. Ever heard of them? Unless you’re a Robert Pollard completist, probably not. Their sole release, Jar of Jam Ton of Bricks was released in 2009 (one of Pollard’s 100+ issues, only about a 1/4 of which are Guided by Voices titles). Cosmos was a collaboration with Richard Davies, Australian pop oddball and auteur behind the cult faves the Moles. The two of them share a certain aesthetic, a vision that embraces early John Cale, the first two Brian Eno records, Pete Townshend’s Scoop demos, bits and pieces of the Beatles, and a dash of early Syd Barrett.   Some of the songs on J ar of Jam are based on little more than acoustic guitar and percussion, especially woodblock, others are full band janglers. Because of the duo’s shared sensibility it all hangs...
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EMA is Ericka M. Anderson. Exile in the Outer Ring is her vision of American despair and marginalization. Yup.

(Steven J Wilson)
When I selected Past Life Martyred Saints as my top album of 2011, Ericka M. Anderson was straight out of the American underground, not an artist widely recognized. EMA, professionally and for short, had released material with two groups, Amps for Christ and the Gowns, but PLMS was her solo debut, and it was on a small label called Souterrain Transmissions. If you want a little background, here’s a link to my original review and my 2011 Top 25: http://stevemahoot.blogspot.com/search?q=past+life+martyred+saints With the 2014 release of The Future’s Void, EMA consolidated her stature as an artist to be reckoned with. After the viscerally powerful PLMS, Void w as a colder, more technocratic vision. Like it’s ambiguous title, the music conveyed a vision of a sterile and oppressive near tomorrow, like something out of a William Gibson novel, humanity struggling with the powers of its own creation, with the alienations of the internet age. Void’s slabs of distorted sounds were...
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