10000 Maniacs The Wishing Chair. There is a new Postal Blue cd out soon, hmm... It was announced on indiepop news although they have strict admonitions against things that are "twee'" or so I had imagined from their earlier diatribes. The Bumblebees are decidedly untwee sir and I resent any accusations to the contrary! Natalie Merchant seems far too ruthless to have ever been mistaken for twee. Would she wear a Chocolate, Love Sex twee shirt? Unlikely. Not unless it was a fair trade, locally grown hemp hewn anti-Batista twee shirt. On this album she sounds rather girlish. How old was she when they recorded this album? Using my keen memory I remember origin stories about her storming into a college radio station in New York demanding they play her likely unlistenable records from Janis Ian and Patty Smith. Those bands have ben pulled from my arse. She kept meticulous journals. She was a whirling dervish. She was alleged to be dating Morrissey once. But he's son gay. Although that seems about right. "Through adventure we are not adventuresome", I love the way she excitedly draws that out. There is passion here, there is heart bursting through flesh soul and desire, precociousness. Twee is not passion. The problem with Postal Blue is that as a band or concept it is really sorta dreadful and completely unaware to that fact. I reveal all of my prejudices on this site. One is the belief that Brazilians have more blood than anyone else on the planet but Postal Blue is merely the exception to prove the rule. Anemic rock! Second song, the rocker, Scorpio Rising. It's terrific. i have listened to this album constantly since the end of December. No idea on the motivation for this behaviour. There was that one Rolling Stone Cover, she looked alluring actually, she claimed it was not her that was on the magazine cover, because she was alluring. Of course she was still in the band then but truly they are all rather ugly and so mere fodder for page 57. After Jann Wenner's endorsement of Paul Tsongas that never was in 1992. 10000 Maniacs played the inauguration in 1993. That was the last time the world changed. Of course nothing changed. It won't change this time, but will 10000 Maniacs be invited? I bet Lil Wayne takes their slot. Third song, the first folk one. This is their second album. The first is perhaps its superior? It is out folk, Planned Obsolescence and Death of Manolette are brilliantly odd things, I marvel at their uniqueness. Later they learned to play instruments and had faded 60s non-icons beat them senseless about professionalism and nuns were slaughtered in El Salvador and George Bush had Ann Richards as antagonist and life was simpler. When democrats hold power who do we demonise? I love this song. The way her voice pitches sharply at the start of verses cheers me greatly. Next song. Lilydale. More folk. When she was meant to be dating Morrissey I was desperately, nay madly in love with Natalie Merchant. How was this? I don't know. She turned matronly when she went single. Judge me not on my appearance, I can be as unappealing as Germaine Greer, judge me by my wisdom imparted from boring 4 minute dirges. No, no, let me dream, let me describe you fatefully entwined in romantic literature and floral print dresses and knee length postal socks and a teasing curl draped keenly over your left eye. I did enjoy even the last 10000 maniacs album with Ms. Merchant and there is a beautiful video on YouTub of her performing Verdi Cries on English television some time some age ago. I would not be lying if I revealed that they formed a great part of my sensibility when I was young. I didn't sympathise with the politics, it was asinine, but I understood the individualism and fierce determination to do their own thing. It was light years better than Camper Van Beethoven. Back O'the Moon, another brilliant brilliant song, it's all driven by her electric performance. I've been listening to this album less this past week. It is some time since I started this entry. Apologies. i am still stuck in this loop where I leave for work long before the sun rises and arrive home long after it has departed. She sings "giddy' giddily. I received another email requesting that I "review" a release from some label. I don't think people realize that no one actually reads this website. I don't track it but I receive about one email every 6 months. Perhaps I am only in deficit among the polemics that would engender more bountiful feedback. I've opened the door for the legions of two or three Postal Blue fans to write me their dissatisfaction concerning my appraisal of their 39th favorite band ever. Oh well. Mandolin. Lyrics are surely drawn from journals and apple orchard expeditions with a copy of 'The Blue Notebooks' under crooked arm and elbow. Maddox Kitchen Table. Again, magnificent. This is a near perfect record. Really. There is talk of a new Shellyann Orphan record soon. Would that they'd make a record as endearingly shambolic as Humroot rather than being professional about their duties as professional musicians. Blah. She's turned Norma Rae at the moment, mentions an ox. I witnessed a longhorn parade in the middle of Denver yesterday. Reaffirmed my determination that this is still a cowtown. Truly, eternally. I've never been to the stock show. i am not sure what happens at the stock show, I gather from a distance that children raise prize steers and hogs and show them off before sending them cooly off to the abattoir. One longhorn was singlemindedly trying to plough his own furrow through the adoring masses and make a run for it, before some kid could grind his hoofs into vegemite but he was quickly rounded back into shape by cowboys in authentic cowboy hats. I don't actually care what anyone thinks about what I write here and certainly not what I think of music. This is exercise. I am writing about this record because it was a signpost moment for youth, I listen and feel, again that shamefully unfulfilled invincibility of naivety. As I lay alone in my bed and feel the emptiness of existence unmarked by experience I long to rekindle the romances of my youth vicariously through false nostalgia and admissions of devotion to Natalie Merchant even while she's singing the mostly crummy The Colonial Wing. Oh but then comes Grey Victory, sigh, these are the girls who should be girlfriends of sensitive intelligent men who do not have boyfriends. The imaginary constructions born from their lingering escapes in between these dreamy notes. Natalie Merchant is not Natalie Merchant to me, that would be some tireless droning bore intent on telling you how miserable life is. No no Natalie Merchant is the singer for 10000 Maniacs and in these songs she's the dreamer, a poet, an artist, a metaphorical spark for the entire world to gather round and open hearts to. "Come on, come in it's open, so come on". Ok, yes, Ok. I was such a sap. This chimes with hope. I can't decide from which of the first two records I derive the most pleasure. They share songs. The Hope Chest thing has Death of Manolete. Death fo Manolete is an amazing song. Why did Peter Asher want to circumscribe their youthful exuberance? Why did he want to limit the unbridled fecundity of fierce determination, why did he want them to become dreaded professionals. Of course, they may have been more than willing accomplices in the death of soul. Among the Americans starts quietly, more chiming chords and her delicate flower of passion, then a rush into the second movement, a brief glimpse of fire, then again pensive and moody. It's feverish and subtle all at once. Are bands this wise this early any more? The admiration for her now is different from when I was young. Then it was a thumb in the eye for everyone trying to decide if they were in the Skid Row or Guns'n'Roses camp while on the school bus en route to Physics day at Cedar Point. Now it's a fondness for having the wherewithal and wit to say something powerfully and with charm, efflorescence and grace. It's fierce, I've said that before. It is in line with Amelia Fletcher records. The music is the polar opposite but the overall effect is dizzyingly similar, tiny speeches carried to hidden crevices. Everyone a Puzzle Lover, the lyrics are not as meaningful as I once imagined in my youth but even so, if they had come enclosed in a booklet bound and embossed and ready for scones and tea it would have seemed entirely appropriate. Mandolin, long before Peter Buck discovered the mandolin, it forms a rigid spine in a song, much different to a guitar, sturdy planks flower on each side her soaring voice and accordions in sympathy. It's all too marvelous. There, I've maintained my 'marvelous' quota, 2. "As a trail of caramel ashes fell on the floor". Best ending line ever? Tonight. Like the Weather vs Death of Manolette? To be decided at some future date. I do like In My Tribe. i recall doing homework in my car sitting in a bowling alley parking lot while listening to The Painted Desert and later the trailing memory of My Sister Rose while a young girl serving drinks inside, face caked with white make-up, brilliant red lips, she would sit next to me for no apparent reason and I would ignore her and later cry "If only". "Could never take a hint". It is all happening again, the same as it has ever been. I'd apologize if I knew how to contact the stranger that in plain view derails all of the happiness I long for. Cotton Alley just finished. Beautiful. Daktari, experimental folk music. Hope Chest has some of songs on it, this is one of the ones shared among the first two records. It's eastern sounding, her voice a chanted dervish ball of desire and prayer. This sounds like a mismatch between her youth and the wisdom of her band mates. I always conjured this vision of the Maniacs being father figures possessed with a sprite filled with energy enough to allow them to recapture their storybook yearnings of days past. This has a groove. They have a propensity for groovy things on the first two albums. Peter Asher put a halt to that. But then he did write the bridge to A World Without Love didn't he, bravo. I wonder how Thomas Dolby would have made In My Tribe sound. I don't know why I wonder that. At the time he was recording Paddy McAloon's ramblings of genius. He could have introduced 10000 Maniacs to the sheen without the accompanying deadening seriousness of purpose. Who recorded this? I think it was Joe Boyd. Of course, it Was Joe Boyd. He was Nick Drake's producer. How is Peter Asher considered an upgrade from the man who recorded Five Leaves Left? That's a serious position, ha. My Mother the War. I like this version better than the Hope Chest version, it sounds meatier(pun) than the previous version, it fulfills the spirit of the performance ever more grandly. The drums could have been heartbeat rhythm menacing as in say Animal Collective's Summertime Clothes but we can't have everything. This should be featured in a Guillermo Del Toro soundtrack someday. Really. He's in charge of the Hobbit! Brilliant news this, I've only just read of it. I haven't seen a movie in the theaters since forever. Oh wait, I lied, I saw Valkyrie at Broadway Commons in Myrtle Beach. It was decent to pretty good. Look at me! Man of the people. I only had a brief period of duress caused by the malady of thinking that the music I listened to was important. I was more of a proselytizer attempting through good faith to enlighten those benighted souls unaccustomed to such goodness as Tension Makes a Tangle. I doubt very much whether I ever attempted to convert anyone to the cause of 10000 Maniacs, I may never have had the opportunity, perhaps when I was told that I looked like a Smiths fan in my Freshman year at university I had an opening, but instead a missed opportunity to pock mark on my wearying trail to nowhere. This sounds very tongue tying but it's as giddy and bright as every other song here. Why isn't this in the top ten of Rolling Stones' greatest albums ever? Surely it should beat out anything on the list by the Who. A 10000 Maniacs tee shirt would have just been the oddest thing ever. Last song, a waltz, Arbor Day, accordion and sing song and a tender sensibility that seemed to fade with experience. Which was it that killed Natalie Merchant's innocence? Aging or the age? Untold memories of Samosa.