TERMINATED

FOR REASONS OF TASTE

 TERMINATED
FOR REASONS OF TASTE

Other Ways to Hear Essential

and Inessential Music

Chuck Eddy

Duke University Press Durham and London 2016

© 2016 Duke University Press
All rights reserved
Printed in the United States of America
on acid-­free paper ♾
Designed by Amy Ruth Buchanan
Typeset in Minion Pro by Tseng Information Systems, Inc.

Library of Congress Cataloging-­in-­Publication Data

Names: Eddy, Chuck, editor.
Title: Terminated for reasons of taste : other ways to hear
essential and inessential music / Chuck Eddy.
Description: Durham : Duke University Press, 2016. |
Includes index.
Identifiers: lccn 2016002413
isbn 9780822361893 (hardcover : alk. paper)
isbn 9780822362258 (pbk. : alk. paper)
isbn 9780822373896 (e-­book)
Subjects: lcsh: Rock music—History and criticism. |
Popular music—History and criticism.
Classification: lcc ml3534.e293 2016 | ddc 781.6409—dc23
lc record available at http://lccn.loc.gov/2016002413

Cover design by Skillet Gilmore.

TO ALL CHUCK’S CHILDREN
Contents

Acknowledgments xi
Introduction Sold a Decade at a Time 1
.....

Chapter 1 B.C.  5
The Best Songs of 1930 11
Depression Music 13
Country Rap Prehistory 15
Country Songs I 17
Niela Miller: Songs of Leaving 25
’60s Catholic Folk Mass 27
Country Songs II 28
CB Jeebies 39
Can’t Fool Mother Nature 40
Prog on the Prairie: Midwestern Bands Roll Over Beethoven 41
Past Expiry Hard Rock Dollar Bin 44
Sonic Taxonomy: Fake New Wave 56
Inventing Indie Rock 64
Urinals → No Age 67

Chapter 2 ’80s 71
Sonic Taxonomy: Unsung ’80s R&B Bands 77
Country Rap: The ’80s 85
Sonic Taxonomy: Old Old Old School Rap Albums 87
Public Enemy Do the Punk Rock 96
Beastie Boys: Lay It Down, Clowns 98
Aerosmith, Endangered No More 105
Metallica: Kill ’Em All Turns 30 110
Fates Warning and Possessed Open Up and Say . . . Ahh! 113
Dead Milkmen vs. Thelonious Monster: Battle of the Lame 114
Einstürzende Neubauten / Killdozer: The Graystone, Detroit,
11 June 1986 116
New Wave über Alles 118
Frank Chickens → M.I.A. 124
Owed to the Nightingales 127
Mekons Stumble toward Oblivion 130
Mekons: So Good It Hurts 132
Pet Shop Boys: 18 Shopping Days Left 133
Billy Joel: It’s Not His Fault! 135
John Hiatt: Bring the Family 139
John Anderson Serves the Doofus Majority 140
Country Songs III 142
The ’80s: One Step Forward, Two Steps Back 145

Chapter 3 ’90s 153
TLC and Kris Kross: Women and Children First 157
Cause & Effect: Trip 160
The Cure: Spectrum, Philadelphia, 16 May 1992 161
SOS from the Metal of Nowhere 163
Motörhead Überkill 164
Pankow and Treponem Pal Ring in Desert Storm 168
How Nirvana Didn’t Kill Hair Metal 170
Sponge: From Grunge to Glam 171
Radio On Reviews I 172
Travis Marries a Man! 178
John Mellencamp: Dance Naked 179
Sawyer Brown: Café on the Corner 181
Patricia Conroy: A Bad Day for Trains 182
Grupo Exterminador: Dedicado a Mis Novias 183
When FSK Play, Schnitzel Happens 184
Radio On Reviews II 185
Alanis Morissette: Addicted to Love 189

Chapter 4 ’00s 193
Singles Again: Backstabs in the Material World 197
Bruce Springsteen: Working on a Dream 202
Frat Daze, Clambake, Anyways, It’s Still Country Soul
to Kenny Chesney 204
Country Music Goes to Mexico 204
September 11: Country Music’s Response 212
Battle of the Country Hunks 214
Country Songs IV 217
The Ladies of Triple A 222
Anvil Won’t Go Away 225
Excellent Boring Metal from Germany 227
The Many Ideas of Oneida 228
Next Little Things 232

Chapter 5 ’10s 239
Singles Jukebox Reviews 248
The Dirtbombs: Ooey Gooey Chewy Ka-­Blooey! 252
Redd Kross: Researching the Blues 256
Mayer Hawthorne ← Robert Palmer 258
Kanye West: VEVO Power Station, Austin, 20 March 2011 261
Taylor Swift and Ke$ha: Not So Different 263
Ke$ha: Warrior 267
Strange Brew: Metal’s New Blare Witch Project 269
Metal’s Severed Extremities 275
Walking Dead: The Divided States of Metal 278
Voivod: Target Earth 281
Merchandise: Totale Nite 285
Mumford and Sons: Babel 287
The Gospel Truth 289
Southern Soul Keeps On Keepin’ On 293
Jamey Johnson Sprawls Out 297
Country Songs V 300
Bro-­Country Isn’t as Dumb as It Looks 302
Ashley Monroe and Kacey Musgraves Are What They Are 304
When the Angels Stopped Watching Mindy McCready 308

.....
Conclusion I Am the World’s Forgettin’ Boy 311
Index 315
Acknowledgments

To conserve space, it seems prudent to start this off by honoring two huge
groups of people, namely (1) everybody I thanked in each of my three previ-
ous books, all written in eras overlapping my writing in this one; (2) any and
all friends on Facebook (more or less 570 these days—I’m kind of selective)
who no doubt inspired me somehow and somewhere. If you’re in either of
those categories, consider yourself appreciated; if not, feel free to look and
see who is.
Before there were “social networks,” there were social networks. Also after.
So if I ever agreed or argued with you at Why Music Sucks, Radio On, ilxor
.com, or Singles Jukebox; or ever worked with you at the Village Voice or Bill-
board; or ever spent every noon cst Tuesday for years on a Rhapsody confer-
ence call with you, we should probably go out for a beer sometime.
Editors who first printed these pieces (and frequently improved them) in-
clude but are by no means limited to Milo Miles at the Boston Phoenix; Jim
Walsh at City Pages; Rob Kenner at Complex; Dave DiMartino, Bill Holdship,
and John Kordosh at Creem; Greg Boyd and Bill Reynolds at Eye Weekly; Chris
Chang at Film Comment; Siobhan O’Connor at good; Alastair Sutherland at
Graffiti; Maura Johnston at Idolator; John Payne at L.A. Weekly; Jessica Suarez
at mtv Hive; Phil Dellio (who also mailed me a Matchbox 20 photo I used in
here somewhere, and whose own recent collection Interrupting My Train of
Thought belongs on your reading list as well) at Radio On; Keith Moerer at Re-
quest; Garrett Kamps, Sam Chennault, Rob Harvilla, and Stephanie Benson at
Rhapsody; Nick Catucci at rollingstone.com; William Swygart at Singles Juke-
box; Sue Rollinger at the Spectrum; Simon Reynolds, Charles Aaron, and Chris
Weingarten at Spin; Will Fulford-­Jones at Time Out London; Doug Simmons
and Harvilla at the Village Voice; and J. Edward Keyes and Jayson Greene at
Wondering Sound (called eMusic at the time).
(Some related legal stuff: mtv ’s “September 11: Country Music’s Response”
used with permission by mtv. © Viacom Media Networks. All rights reserved.
mtv, all related titles and logos are trademarks owned by Viacom Media Net-
works, a division of Viacom International Inc. “Kanye West, Jay-­Z, Justin Ver-
non and More Overwhelm in sxsw ’s Crowning Blowout” Copyright © Roll-
ing Stone llc 2011. All rights reserved. Used by permission. “Backstabs in the
Material World” and “Frat Daze, Clambake, Anyways, It’s Still Country Soul
to Him” first published in the Village Voice, a Voice Media Group publication.
Several other pieces were reprinted with express permission of Voice Media
Group, creem Media, Inc., and good.)
The headline “Past Expiry Hard Rock Dollar Bin” was partly swiped from
the title of a recurring I Love Music thread initiated in 2009 by George Smith,
who I probably borrowed a riff or two from as well. George, Gina Arnold, J. D.
Considine, Stephen Thomas Erlewine, Tom Ewing, Tim Finney, Joshua Kort-
bein, Glenn McDonald, David Cooper Moore, Ned Raggett, Mark Richardson,
Philip Sherburne, Steve Smith, Jannon Sonja Stein, and Annie Zaleski, among
others, provided valuable recollections on a Facebook thread I summarize
herein about the origins of music writing on the Internet. Jody Rosen, who
also knows more about turn-­of-­the-­20th-­century music than I do, gave “bro-­
country” its name. And it’s impossible to gauge how much my thinking and
writing have been inspired over the years, and continue to be, by colleagues
like Jacob Alrich, Kevin Bozelka, Dan Brockman, David Cantwell, Jon Cara-
manica, Robert Christgau, Matt Cibula, Leila Cobo, Anthony Easton, Justin
Farrar, Michael Freedberg, Jeanne Fury, Keith Harris, Jewly Hight, Christian
Hoard, Charles Hughes, Edd Hurt, Maura Johnston, Josh Langhoff, Greil
Marcus, Michaelangelo Matos, Chris Molanphy, Daddy B. Nice, Martin Pop-
off, Ann Powers, Mosi Reeves, Metal Mike Saunders, Rob Sheffield, Sara Sherr,
Alfred Soto, Jack Thompson, Barry Walters, Eric Weisbard, Dan Weiss, Carl
Wilson, Scott Woods, Ron Wynn, and above all Frank Kogan and Scott Seward
. . . seriously, I could go on forever.
And then there’s Lalena, whose husband I am, who deserves thanks for
putting up with me and line-­editing all the chapter intros, and Annika, Cor-
delia, Sherman, and William, whose dad I am, who deserve thanks for keep-
ing me halfway grounded and teaching me about jiu-­jitsu, terfs, graffiti, and
yurts. And Ken Wissoker, Elizabeth Ault, and Danielle Szulczewski Houtz at
Duke, who let me do this thing again and walked me through it, tolerating
my obsessive-­compulsive logistical questions as if they weren’t the mark of a
troubled mind. And finally, whoever buys, reads, or writes about this book.
I’m so lucky y’all are out there. Thank you falettinme be mice elf agin.

xii Acknowledgments
Introduction
Sold a Decade at a Time

When people meet me and find out what I do for a living, they inevitably ask
me what kind of music I listen to and write about. I never know how to answer
the question—never have—so usually I just kind of fumble and stutter a lot.
If I told them how I really felt, they’d probably just think I was weird: namely,
that pop music is bigger, more multidimensional, endlessly compelling in
more directions, than they ever imagined. So it’s kinda hard to pin the stuff
down.
If it helps, though, when I used to moonlight as a bar dj late Saturday
nights while living in New York City at the start of the 21st century, here’s how
I advertised my genre leanings: “dj Edelweiss spins a danceable and drink-
able ­all-­vinyl selection of proto-­Eurodisco bongo-­rock, German reggae,
danceable prog, hair-­extension metal, Gregorian garage, boogie-­oogied coun-
try, stoner glam, industrial bubblegum, popping-­and-­locking Zulu wildstyle
space-­cowboy hip hop bommi bop, and drunken frat-­soul with parties going
on in the background. Plus zillions of ancient Top 40 songs you’d forgotten—
until now.” Okay, maybe that doesn’t help so much.
Still, here’s the thing: I see music history repeating itself, revolving again
and again in strange, intriguing, disturbing, revealing, often hilarious ways.
In the more than three decades during which I wrote the pieces in this book,
popular music itself, music criticism, the music industry, communication
media, and America have all changed immeasurably. So this book aims to
plug into a whole bunch of those changes as they occurred, and somehow tie
them together.
Though it might look at first like an unnavigable dump, there is rather
meticulous method to my madness—a logic, or several overlapping logics.
There are trapdoors and secret passages connecting it all; if you want, you can
make a game of it. Yet all the material comprises just a fraction of my music
writing—or rather, another fraction, after the 100 or so pieces compiled in my
previous Duke collection, 2011’s Rock and Roll Always Forgets (which followed
1997’s The Accidental Evolution of Rock’n’Roll, which followed my 1991 heavy
metal album guide Stairway to Hell, which I updated and expanded in 1998).
So yes, I am milking my once-­prolific career as a rock critic for all it’s worth!
There’s even a short piece I wrote for my high school newspaper, back in the
’70s. But though I was contributing a decade later to Rolling Stone and still do,
I’ve included no pieces from that magazine, unless a Kanye West live review
that only ran on their website counts. None of the hundreds of reviews I’ve
written over the years for Entertainment Weekly or Blender or Billboard (where
I worked as an editor) are in here, either.
Even more than its predecessor, Terminated for Reasons of Taste includes
plenty of writing I didn’t even get paid for—much of which first appeared in
Xeroxed fanzines, on Internet discussion boards, on nebulous websites that
came and went. Two full-­length “reviews”—of ’60s folk artist Niela Miller and
a 2009 Bruce Springsteen album—are actually pieced together from extended
off-­the-­cuff posts on the I Love Music board; for whatever reason, I think
they captured more of my voice than most reviews that actually paid my bills.
Occasionally, especially with selections from more amateur outlets like that
one, I’ve since self-­edited pieces from their original rambling-­off-­the-­top-­of-­
my-­head state or folded adjacent posts together for reasons of clarity, coher-
ency, and accuracy and to avoid redundancy and dumb typos; a few pieces
have also been condensed somewhat, so as not to waste precious space, or
reverted to pre-­editor-­remixed form when I was convinced they’d lost some-
thing in translation. I’ve also retooled certain headlines if the originals weren’t
doing their job, or made no sense in retrospect. But throughout, I tried to
select work that somehow holds up for me—believe me, a “worst of Chuck
Eddy” compilation would be way thicker than this one.
I started writing professionally, if you can call it that, in early 1984, and the
book divides itself into five chronological sections, revolving around music
from the 1980s, 1990s, 2000s, 2010s, and—in the first one, facetiously titled
“b.c.”—all of history Before I was a Critic. Under each of those umbrellas, I
tried to organize pieces like a playlist or mixtape or good radio set, to transition
logically into each other—to set each other up, answer each other’s questions,
carry on an internal conversation or debate. So pieces on similar genres or by
related artists or with intersecting themes or geography tend to be grouped
together when feasible, with cusps between genres (rap-­rock, say) sometimes
serving as mortar. This allows styles to evolve through the pages. For instance,
I trace country music’s mutations from the ’20s all the way to the present, in

2 Introduction
part via five batches of song reviews first published on the mostly hip-­hop-­
oriented website Complex in 2012. In another thread that keeps popping back
up, you get to watch me fall in and out of and back in love with heavy metal.
Even folk revivals, never my specialty, recur now and then throughout—from
Niela Miller and Catholic folk masses all the way to Mumford and Sons.
Other serial threads recur as well, including a few from Spin’s post-­print-­
era website: two pieces on country rap; three Sonic Taxonomy columns ex-
ploring essential albums in unexplored (and, in the case of “Fake New Wave,”
maybe imaginary) genres; three titled with arrows (→ or ←) where I discuss a
current artist alongside one from decades before. There are also two assem-
blages of real-­time single-­song reviews from the ’90s fanzine Radio On, se-
queled in subsequent decades by similar collections from the Village Voice and
the Singles Jukebox site.
Some extramusical threads no doubt run through, too, and I’m not even
sure I could name those myself. But I do plenty of explaining, in too much
detail maybe, in all five section introductions. So I’ll terminate this now, and
hope you find some of what follows to your taste.

Sold a Decade at a Time 3