Where's Nate?

living large in the four-oh-eight. wicked large.


like spinning plates.

I'm always on the prowl for new music. But sometimes "new" music means a trip down memory lane. Take the latest Chili Peppers album, for example. Sure "Dani California" is a bitchin' tune. But it sounds like "Californication" and nearly everything from Blood Sugar Sex Majik. This isn't a bad thing, of course. That album was one of the best (if not the best) of the early nineties. In fact, it was Flea's virtuosity (sp?) on that album that inspired me to learn how to play bass.

Or how about the new album from Pearl Jam? "Worldwide Suicide" could have been a track on Ten or Versus. (Thirtysomething) critics are heralding the new album as the "return of Pearl Jam." Which is sweet.

One album that's getting a lot of heavy iTunes rotation is the new solo album from former Catherine Wheel frontman, Rob Dickinson. If you've never heard this guy sing, download "Black Metallic" or "Handsome" immediately. Dickinson is the only singer on the planet with the pipes and range to sing over an epic wall of sound. Every Catherine Wheel song is/was an anthem and Dickinson's solo album pulls in the most melodic and brooding of his former band's orchestrations.

So what's the point? No sense can immediately transport one back in time like sound. PJ and RHCP were my bread and butter in the nineties. Any song by these guys reminds me of rocking out down main street in Los Gatos in 1992, wearing flannel, acting all pseudo-grunge. And Rob Dickinson's voice takes me back to 1995, late night at Middlebury, crazy flashing lights on my dorm room ceiling. If you don't mind, I'm going back to my iTunes...

Oh, and by the way, Blogger needs to fix the link publishing in Safari. Thanks.


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