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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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2019 - Six months in. These records don't suck.

(Steven J Wilson)
In the first six months of 2019, these sixty-six recordings impressed me favorably. Some of them I'll rarely listen to again. Some will become old friends. The ten in bold stand out a bit from the rest of the pack. I haven't been of a mind to write record reviews for some time now. However, if you want my spontaneous two cent's worth on any of these titles, I'll be happy to give you a quick take to affirm, bolster my support. In no particular order: 21 Savage – I am > I was Kel Assouf – Black Tenere Deerhunter – Why Hasn’t Everything Disappeared Divine Comedy – Office Politics Stella Donnelly – Beware of the Dogs Dream Syndicate – These Times Du Blonde – Lung Bread for Daddy Willie Farmer – The Man from the Hill Felice Brothers – Undress Flesheaters – I Used to be Pretty https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vppn_T5b_Lo Fontaines D.C. – Dogrel Fleshtones – Budget Buster Robert Forster – Inferno Better Oblivion Community Center – s/t B...
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There is a town in Arkansas called Elaine.

(Steven J Wilson)
Elaine, Arkansas is in Phillips County, one of the poorest counties in the United States, a flat expanse of deprivation where your Google Maps won’t keep you from getting lost. Elaine is lost. It looks like a place where nothing good has happened in a very long time.  That's, at least in part, because something terrible happened there. Something a majority of Americans don't know about.  I'm educated as a historian, but I lack the imprimatur of an advanced degree. I will do my best to offer a concise history lesson.  The facts are straightforward. To escape destitution and indentured servitude, black sharecroppers in the Arkansas delta organized under the banner of the Progressive Farmers and Household Union of America. On the 30th of September 1919, a prominent, white attorney named Ulysses Bratton traveled the three hours from Little Rock to meet with the workers to discuss strategy. They met at a small church on the outskirts of Elaine at a place called Hoo...
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