Weekly Charts

Top Charts 4/9/24

Top Charts

1TEENS IN TROUBLEWhat’s MineAsian Man
2OFFICE DOGSpielNew West/Flying Nun
5YUNGATITAShoelace & A KnotSelf-Released
6STALEFISHStalefish Does AmericaHappen Twice
7CAKES DA KILLABlack SheepYoung Art
8AESOP ROCKIntegrated Tech SolutionsRhymesayers
9COR.ECE AND BAD COLOURSBeen Here BeforeBastard Jazz
10GLASS BEACHPlastic DeathRun For Cover
11GOTTS STREET PARKOn The InsideBlue Flowers/PIAS
12HYPHYSKAZERBOXManic In Your HouseSuite 309
13PSYMON SPINEHead Body ConnectorNorthern Spy
14ROSIE TUCKERUtopia Now!Sentimental
15SIX IMPALAEarwaxSelf-Released
16SOFTCULT“Shortest Fuse” [Single]Easy Life
17SPRINTSLetter To SelfCity Slang
18TY SEGALLThree BellsDrag City
19APHEX TWINBlackbox Life Recorder 21f/In A Room7 F760 [EP]Warp
20CHUCK STRANGERSA Forsaken Lover’s PleaLex
21CITIZENCalling The DogsRun For Cover
23ERICK THE ARCHITECTI’ve Never Been Here BeforeIDOL
24GOAT GIRL“Ride Around” [Single]Rough Trade
26PARAMORE“Burning Down The House” [Single]A24
27SLEEPING BAGPets 4: Obedience School DropoutEarth Libraries
28SWEET PILLStarchild [EP]Hopeless
29CAMPBELL APARTMENT, THEUnder The Influence Of LoveMint 400

Top Adds

1HANA VU“Hammer” [Single]Ghostly International
3BLACK KEYS, THEOhio PlayersNonesuch/Warner
4CALEB LANDRY JONESHey Gary, Hey DawnSacred Bones
5ANNIE TAYLORInner SmileTaxi Gauche
6INFINITY SONG“Hater’s Anthem” [Single]Roc Nation
Weekly Charts

Underground Charts 4/9/24

Underground Charts

2CHUCK STRANGERSA Forsaken Lover’s PleaLex
3WAHIDfeast, by ravenInnovative Leisure/Praises Due
4SCOTT Y LOS PELMAZOSAnalog Machine Presents – Scott Y Los PelmazosAnalog Machine
5CAKES DA KILLABlack SheepYoung Art
6CLAN SPRMThe Great American EclipseHumblux
8AN ALIEN CALLED HARMONYAn Alien Called Harmony [EP]New Soil
9RITCHIETriple Digits [112]AWAL
10CZARFACECzartificial IntelligenceSilver Age/Virgin

Underground Adds

1RITCHIETriple Digits [112]AWAL
2NXWORRIES“86Sentra” [Single]Stones Throw
3J SHILTZ FEATURING REL MCCOY“The Latest” [Single]Urbnet
4KRYXIS“Morning Coffee Alone” [Single]Self-Released
Weekly Charts

Jazz Charts 4/9/24

Jazz Charts

1JUN IIDAEvergreenOA2
2NOAH HAIDUStandardsSunnyside
3DAVID LARSENCohesionLarsen Jazz
5CHRIS ROTTMAYERBeingShifting Paradigm
6FLYING HORSE BIG BAND, THEA Message From The Flying Horse Big BandFlying Horse
8SCOTT Y LOS PELMAZOSAnalog Machine Presents – Scott Y Los PelmazosAnalog Machine
9GOTTS STREET PARKOn The InsideBlue Flowers/PIAS
10ROBBIE MADISONLive At SambucaMadison

Jazz Adds

2BK TRIOGroovin OnFlat7Always
3REGINALD CYNTJEGentle TouchSelf-Released
Weekly Charts

Chainsaw Charts 4/9/24

Chainsaw Charts

1BARONESSStoneAbraxan Hymns
2CRYPTOPSYAs Gomorrah BurnsNuclear Blast
3ESHTADUR“Fire Above Mountain Below” [Single]Self-Released
4MORTA SKULDCreation UndonePeaceville
5ASTRALBORNEAcross The AeonsProsthetic
6HORNDALHead Hammer ManProsthetic
7GATECREEPER“The Black Curtain” [Single]Nuclear Blast
8MAMMOTH CARAVANIce Cold OblivionSelf-Released
10NERVERBrothers in Christ [EP]Reptilian
Weekly Charts

Afterhours Charts 4/9/24

Afterhours Charts

1VEGYNThe Road To Hell Is Paved With Good IntentionsPLZ Make It Ruins
218 DAYSLost In MotionSelf-Released
4CURRENOne True ColorSelf-Released
5CLUB ANGELSoundbwoy’s Destiny [EP]Astral People/PIAS
6TATYANAIt’s OverSinderlyn
7JULIA HOLTERSomething In The Room She MovesDomino
8BLU DETIGERAll I Ever Want Is EverythingCapitol
9COR.ECE AND BAD COLOURSBeen Here BeforeBastard Jazz

Afterhours Adds

1VEGYNThe Road To Hell Is Paved With Good IntentionsPLZ Make It Ruins
218 DAYSLost In MotionSelf-Released
4CURRENOne True ColorSelf-Released
5MOLTO MORBIDIString Cheese TheoryNo Salad
Miscellaneous Playlists

Reel-to-Reel Presents: “Grosse Pointe Blank”

High stakes, high stress, high-powered rifles and…high school? 

That’s the life of American assassin Martin Q. Blank.

Face it, returning to the hallowed halls of our respective high schools is a nauseating thought for most of us. 

And in that respect, he’s no different from the rest of us. 

Miscellaneous Short Stories

Transgenerational Inheritance (feat. Limp Bizkit): A Personal Essay

In the days after my cousin died, things were chaotic. We gutted her apartment, tossing the groceries that had been left to rot on her countertops — she’d had them delivered, but never made it home to put them away — and sorting through boxes and boxes of glittery soaps, salves, tinctures and ointments.

My extended family, worn out both from the flight down here from New York and the drive down to Myrtle Beach to claim my cousin’s body, had us trash most of it.

Over the course of two days, the dumpster filled with more and more of my cousin’s things: garbage bags packed almost to splitting with sunglasses, costume jewelry and random, unused items from television ads that had long gathered dust.

Photo by Kenny Eliason on Unsplash

My youngest brother uncovered a custom hookah shaped like a badazzled machine gun, and lamented as our mother (“hell no! absolutely not!”) refused to let him keep it. My other brother found a lockbox filled with “miscellaneous pills and powders,” which he quickly resealed. The key (with a fob reading “Italian Girls Have More Fun”) remained jammed inexorably into the keyhole.

We didn’t throw away everything. While my living cousins made off with designer bags, photographs and a glass-blown pineapple-shaped bong (“for sentimental value,” one cousin stressed), I found myself gravitating towards stranger things. Bric-a-brac, tchotchkes and glorified trash.

A box of rave kandi. A bottle of orange liquer shaped like a dachshund. An old ID from the community college she’d dropped out of in 2006.

Scanned kandi

After we emptied her apartment, everyone went back home. My grandparents and great aunt flew back to New York. One of my cousin’s long-time friends came and collected her bereaved yorkie. I went and took my board-op test to become a DJ. They had the memorial service up in New York and everyone got stoned (or so I heard.) So it goes.

Somewhere along all of this (it all feels nonlinear to me, like skipping through a movie in 10-second incremends), I ended up with a bag of CDs.

Photo by Brett Jordan on Unsplash

“Here, do you want these?” My mother held them out like one does a dirty diaper, pinching the bag (it was one of those plastic sleeves people keep duvet covers in) by the corner so the CDs puddled in the bottom. They were loose and probably scratched to all hell; probably unusable, really; probably trash.

I took them anyways, stuffing the bag under my bed to rot.

Over two years later (specifically, March 30, 2024), I decided to finally work my way through them. Here’s what I learned:

Laying Out the Particulars of My Inheritance

Parsing through my cousin’s CD collection was like cracking open a time capsule from the early 2000s. As I sat on my bedroom floor and fed disc after disc into my cheap CD player, I felt like I was talking to her — and my adolescent self — again.

“God, you really liked Ludacris, didn’t you?” I said to someone who wasn’t there. Not physically, at least.

It was a 21st century seance, a transgenerational ceremony conducted via polycarbonate. I was channeling my cousin’s spirit, and rather than imploring her to answer my burning questions (“What is life like after death?” “Did you understand what was happening?” “Are you at peace?”), I silently judged her drippingly-2010’s music taste.

Like me, she’d constructed most of her young life around music. I could trace her progression of style, the alt rock and grunge of the 90s and early 2000s giving way to the hip-hop renaissance of the 2010s.

I laid out tall stacks of custom CDs with titles like “Summer 2006,” “Hot Sh–” and “My Mix” lettered in girlish sharpie. I imagined how old she had been when she wrote them, whether or not she’d had her nails done and if her wrists were heavy with gaudy beaded bracelets.

Scanned CDs

In a time before iPods and bluetooth and — heavens forbid — Spotify, burning CDs was a sacred practice. Music was corporeal, and one’s affinity for the stuff became something physical — piles of CDs, stacks of vinyl, etc — that demanded real estate. By comparison, my preferred method of music consumption (streaming) seemed compressed.

In my adolescence, I myself burned songs onto discs — pirating the tracks online, then meticulously ordering them by “vibe” — and eventually did the same on my first iPod. But those were all long gone, sublimated into a single app on a phone I often misplaced.

Sitting cross-legged with a plethora of discs fanned out before me, I picked out several names: System of a Down (one of my top artists of 2023), Nirvana (also one of my top artists), Kittie, Korn, Slipknot and an obscene amount of Limp Bizkit.

Cover for “Chocolate Starfish and the Hot Dog Flavored Water” by Limp Bizkit

I’ll be honest: I’m not all that familiar with Limp Bizkit’s discography. I’m more familiar with Fred Durst, who I’ve mentally elevated to the status of a sort of mythical folklore hero (or antihero?). Anyways, I decided to put on “Chocolate Starfish and the Hot Dog Flavored Water” and was utterly shocked by how awesomely stupid it was. It’s great.

I could imagine my cousin, a teenager or perhaps in her early twenties, speeding down the highway in her little blue SUV and cranking the radio up to full blast, singing along to Fred f–ing Durst and reveling in the invincibility of youth and the heat of a seemingly endless southern summer.

I’m a renegade riot gettin’ out of control
I’m a keepin’ it alive and continue to be
Flyin’ like an eagle to my destiny
So can you feel me? (hell yeah)
Can you feel me? (hell yeah)
Can you feel me? (hell yeah)

“Livin’ it Up” – Limp Bizkit

Transgenerational theory posits rules for the ways in which rrituals, practices, behaviors and philosophies move down generational lines.

Think transgenerational trauma: agony passed down from grandmother to mother to daughter over three lifetimes. Her mother was my mother’s aunt, second eldest of seven first-generation Italian immigrants. Evidently, not a fan of Fred Durst or Serj Tankian or any of the other yelling men my cousin liked to listen to.

And while the CD collection made its way into my hands (unceremoniously, I might add) intergenerationally (i.e., it was literally passed down), the physical discs themselves weren’t the only thing I was given. There was something else in transference, something intangible. A transgenerational impulse.

Photo by K. Mitch Hodge on Unsplash

Energy, maybe. A parasocial connection to a teenager I’d never met who grew up to be an adult I loved and lost, a teenager who probably wasn’t much different (if anything, less emo) than my own teenage self. A teenager who meticulously curated mixes for each season, each new year, each new release.

I pop in a disc without a name — it’s hazy green on the front — and watch it spin, and instead of frenzied guitar and drums, I hear a delicate strumming and familiar, dreamlike voice.

I don’t miss you
I don’t wish you harm
And I forgive you
And I don’t wish you away

“Soothe” – Smashing Pumpkins

It’s “Soothe,” a demo tape by Smashing Pumpkins. I’ve never heard it before, but for a moment, I can imagine I’m my cousin: young, alive, lounging before a CD player. For a moment, two dimensions in time: mine here and hers there, run parallel.

New Album Review

LYSOL’s “Down the Street” EP

More epic garage punk descended from the heavens and blessed our ears with LYSOL’s newest release, “Down the Street”. LYSOL hails from the outer reaches of the United States in the infamous punk breeding ground of Seattle, WA. 

This short, four-track EP, was released on March 24, 2024 and has a total run time of about five minutes. LYSOL seems to be most known for their live performances as noted on the EP page on Bandcamp. The members include: Anthony Gaviria, Xtine Lundberg, Chad Ringo Bucklew, and Noah Earl Fowler. It’s a compact band playing short, heavy and fast. 

In “Down the Street”, I’ve found “Grease Paint” to be my favorite hitting track so far. With the off-beat rhymes and in-the-mud lyrics, the undeniable punk nature screams out for attention, but dashes from the limelight and will “put my grease paint on\ act like it’s all ok” (lyrics from “Grease Paint”).

In “15MG”, it’s way more rock based guitar like Wipers, but again in typical punk fashion the song is too damn short. I want more. More! 

Also, we can’t forget the epic drums and explosive introduction to tis EP from “Sonic Thrill“. The band knows want we want. Maybe they want it too, a sonic thrill. Something that will get them going. Some noise that will start up our blood. Activate our desire to rage and change and bump the body next to us a little too hard.

I cannot wait to see more from LYSOL. That’s how I feel about most young bands these days. I don’t ever want anyone to stop making music. I want to see the scenes grow and evolve. The next new hit genre is probably already here in our ears, but I cannot wait to be a part of the masses when it comes to fruition and the spotlight. LYSOL will be one of the bands up there or at least orchestrating the whole damn show. 


Review: WKNC Shack-a-thon Back Wall Topster

From March 24th to 29th, there was the Shack. On the Shack, there was a Topster. The Shack is now gone, but the Topster lives on in my heart. Today, I will attempt to assess the quality of this Shack Topster, despite having only heard like half of them.


“Lair of the White Worm”: Movie Review

Who doesn’t love phallic, campy, vampire flicks? I thought I’d seen the best and the worst of the vampire film genre, but it looks like the caverns of lore and art are endless because “Lair of the White Worm” is an absolute treat to view. 

This horror-comedy from Britain’s Ken Russell stars Hugh Grant, Amanda Donohoe, Catherine Oxenberg and Peter Capaldi. All of these actors are fantastic in their over-zealous enactments of their characters. You can see a sneak peak of their performances in the trailer on YouTube

Hugh Grant’s portrayal of a young rich inheritor is classic and always goes down well. It seems he found his niche of playing rich a**holes really early on in his career. Donohoe’s pagan worship is hilarious and gross at the same time with the phallic instruments that are attached to her character’s pelvis. Also, you can never go wrong with multiple blonde heroines needing to be saved by a strapping Scottish lad portrayed by Peter Capaldi. 

This being a British flick, there were probably a ton of humorous ins I missed being a silly American, but it didn’t matter. The best parts of the film were the strange horror bits that Russell included. 

The bizarre hellscapes stemming from hallucinatory fever dreams, the constant phallic and gore imagery, and the wonderfully foreboding atmospheric music all combined and created a true vampiric masterpiece. It rises from the backlogs of film watchlists again and again, never to grow old or die. This film will be loved in some fashion by those fantasizing about Hugh Grant, or those in love with strange spurts of viscous green liquid on the faces of this cast. Gore fans have their moments of pleasure, as do comedy fans. 

“The Lair of the White Worm” encapsulates the campy horror-comedy genre perfectly. I cannot wait to watch this film again in a few years with a renewed appreciation for it. If you can, check this film out. I’m sure it’s to die for.