Apparently, I buy too many records

My wife Helen, like every other woman i've ever lived with, believes that I buy too many records.

Which, as every record-buying man knows, is a ridiculous belief.

I will concede, however, that I do indeed buy a lot of records and that I don't afford them the same amount of listens and attention that I did 20 or 30 years ago.

To this end, I have decided to blog about the records that I buy, in order to help my appreciation of them - and perhaps to show Helen that I don't buy that many records after all.

Because i'm crap with deadlines the blog posts will be sporadic and probably be about a month or 2 behind but that's just the way i am! The posts will not necessarily be actual reviews (most likely comments, at best) and will generally be pretty damn short due to the reasons outlined above. As a writer in a previous existence i have decided not to worry about writing as art in the pieces but, instead, to attempt to convey feeling over semantic (and often grammatic) perfection.

And 'OCRB'? It stands for 'Obsessive Compulsive Record Buying' - a little known mental health affliction that is potentially damaging to the bank account but ultimately life-affirming. It is sad.......but a nice form of sad.

Friday, 28 January 2011

OFF!: The first four EP's (Vice)

Keith Morris (Black Flag, Circle Jerks), Steven Mcdonald (Redd Kross), Mario Rubalcaba (Earthless) & Dimitri Coats (Mark Lanegan) have certainly been round the block a few times and these 16 tracks/17 minutes/4 7"s/nice box/artwork by Raymond Pettibon pull together their collective talents to produce a sound like a much better produced/recorded/played version of early Black Flag. Every track reminds me of the 'Nervous Breakdown' EP and this is so much not a bad thing. It's refreshing to hear short angry blasts of discontent when i spend most of the rest of my life listening to long drawn out whispers of apathy. A breath of fresh air? No - more like a biled scream in the face. I feel like jumping up and down and breaking something but fear that i, tho' not as old as Keith Morris, would succeed in breaking only a brittle hip or two. Shame it's on a label aligned to smug richboy hipster mag Vice.
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