FIVE NOVELS, ONE NOVELLA, AN ANTHOLOGY AND AN ART BOOK- BEST OF 2014

There are a number of reasons that I rarely do best anything of the year lists. I tend to ignore newer films and music, so there goes both of those lists right out the window. Since I am one of those people who always seem to walk around with a book in my hand though it might make perfect sense for me to do a best books of the year list. I will never claim that I am the most patient of readers and I probably wind up shelving more than I finish. This is no fault of either myself or the writer. I merely like to be grabbed right away and if I'm not, well then.... okay, yeah totally the writers fault.

Just kidding.

I don't wish to slam anybody here. We like what we like and don't what we don't.

Actually, my main excuse for hardly chiming in with any of those nifty books that made my nipples tweak for any given year lists is a simple one. I tend to read more old books than new ones. In fact, some of the best books I, not only finished but, found myself completely enamored with were those that fell into the meant to read but up until now I just haven't section. This is not to say that I didn't find myself being moved the right way by something fresh off the new release shelf.

Best of lists mean absolutely nothing outside of said "besters" opinion.

I get that.

But they're fun to look at because I'm sure to find something on every list that is a new book for me to give a go. I feel like one can never read too many books so there you have it. More lists equal more books. I have to admit that the more bloated lists put me off. I mean, life is short. A year is even shorter. If someone drops their best 100 or so what-evers for that year I will pay attention up until the first few and then most likely go back to what I've been doing, which is picking my to be read pile from my own brain.

Other problems that no doubt affect any list I'll attempt include time and money. Oh believe me, I would love to just sit around year after year and read every single book that looks worthy to me. Not gonna happen though. Life simply does not permit it. Piggyback that with the fact that I just can't afford to read every book I would like to and there you have my own existence, and my lists, in a single sentence. I read what I read and I liked what I liked and I'm here to tell you about it.

There are a few books I am really wanting to read. Given enough money and gift cards for Christmas this will happen. This is not to suggest that I will like them better than the ones I did pick here though. According to good reads I actually finished 171 books this year. Of that figure 140 were old and 31 were released in 2014. I also shelved 34 books, 3 of which were from 2014.

This isn't a worst of list so fuck those books.

This is the best of the best.

The 5 books that dropped down onto the public in 2014 and resonated most with me in particular.

 They are my crown jewels of 2014.

Well, sort of.

I'll explain as the list progresses.

I have also added 3 titles to the list because technically they do not qualify as novels but they were amongst the best titles of the year for me and should absolutely be recognized. I am always interested in hearing, or reading, other peoples thoughts and lists so please feel free to post either or both.

Next year looks to be a monster year as many of my favorite authors have major releases already listed for pre-orders. Hell, my top 3 favorite writers of all time are amongst these releases so 2015 looks to be most exceptional actually.

But let us not take away any glory from these releases nor their authors.

For they were the best of 2014, for me at least, and I look forward to reading more books by all of them in the future.

The Moon Sisters by Therese Walsh

One of the most heart wrenching tales of any year, let alone this one. I found myself stumbling sometimes because I couldn't read it fast enough.

It's that good.

Two sisters set out on a journey that is every bit as soul searching for its characters as it will be for anyone who picks it up. Believe me, once you start reading this one you will not stop until it's over and long after closing the final page it will stay with you.

Only being the second novel from Thesese Walsh I anxiously await anything she will turn out in the future and I totally need to track down a copy of her first book, The Last Will of Moira Leahy. She is truly a wonderfuLL writer. Yes, 2 L's.



One Kick by Chelsea Cain

It's the start of a new series for Chelsea Cain, and like the title characters nickname, things have started out rather kicking here. This is a bit lighter than her Archie/Gretchen saga but no less masterful.

Kick Lannigan was kidnapped and rescued as a child. Now a young woman, she teams up with a mysterious bad ass named Bishop and they work together to solve several cases of missing children.

It's the most fun I have had between the pages of a book this year.



The Fever by Megan Abbott

Really now, what is there is there to say about Megan Abbott that hasn't already been stated by everyone else that reads her? A new book by Megan is a sure thing for me. One simply can not help but find themselves enraptured by her unique blend of crime and girl power.

Her early work has been a fresh take on the noir genre. If you have not read Queenpin, well you need to rectify that ASAFP. It's one of my all time favorite books.

For her last few books Megan has traded in the stylishly sexy noir world for the modern day high school yard. The Fever tells the tale of a group of teenage girls plagued by a mysterious outbreak of sorts. As always, with both story and prose, she snaps, crackles and pops the reader all the way until the end. Megan Abbott is a master of her craft and never disappoints.

She also happens to have written the best short story I read this year as well, "My Heart is Either Broken", which can be found in the George RR Martin edited anthology Dangerous Women. Though it came out on the tail end of 2013 I actually read the story this year. This mind blower, and heart breaker, of a tale has also been slated for release this year as part of another anthology, The Best American Mystery Stories of 2014, edited by Laura Lippman. Like everything else of Megan's, it's a must read!



Strangers by Bill Pronzini

Bill Pronzini is a hard boiled veteran of the crime scene that has been clocking in quality fiction longer than all the other writers on my list added together. He's a master at what he does and the fact that all these years later he is still relevant at not only working it but getting the job done is a testament to greatness in itself.

His Nameless Detective series is one of the longest running, and still most entertaining, reads out there. In the most recent tale our hero is taken to Sin City to look into a rape case made against the son of an old girlfriend.

Pronzini hits you hard from the bottom of his soul with brutal procedure highlighted by his unique flair for geographical sense. His books are always a quick and fun read and you can almost smell the change of seasons between opening and closing the covers.

Strangers proves that he is like the Energizer bull of crime fiction.



Night Film by Marisha Pessl

Okay, so this book technically came out in 2013. It was issued in paperback in 2014 though, and this is the year I read it.

It's such a monster-piece of literature that I felt a few months couldn't spoil my decision to shower it with praise. It's unlike anything I have ever read. Not so much of a book as it is an experience to be reckoned with by the reader. Night Film stayed with me in between readings and even after I read the final line. That is what great writing is all about. This book used my senses porno style and fucked my head each time I sat down and found myself lost in its complexities.

It's basically a tale of a mysteriously reclusive director and the journalist trying to track him down, and yet it is so much more than that. The media dogs are called out following the apparent suicide of the directors daughter and this beast of a tale simply does not let up for all of its 700-ish pages in length. My general lack of enthusiasm for long books make this one worthy of every bit of its glory here.



Dinner with the Cannibal Sisters by Douglas Clegg

Douglas Clegg is one of my favorite writers of any genre. When people drop their picks for maestros of horror fiction pretty much all the usual suspects get ample nods. I never see people mention Doug Clegg though and that is both a damn shame and an improper oversight. I just got turned on to him a few years back and have become a huge fan. He has only recently seemed to be re-activating his output with lots of new stories and the cream of the crop is this beautiful novella, both in prose and layout, released this year from Cemetery Dance. Over the years this publisher has turned out some spectacular releases and this one is no exception. It's so well presented here that I almost felt bad about having to soil its pages with my fingers.

Obviously, with the title, one would tend to think this might be some kind of gore fest. This being Douglas Clegg though you never know what you are going to get outside of being nothing short of magnificent. It's stylish and filled to the brim with that brilliant prose that Clegg is known for.

Centering around a meeting between a man and 2 elusive, and reviled, sisters this tale is somewhat of a mash up of a quiet horror tale and a historical fiction piece that may very well be the best thing I have read all year. Being a novella I was able to sit down and read it all in one sitting and when I was done the first thought I had was that I simply could not wait to read it again. Kudos to both Doug and Cemetery Dance. A landmark release on both of their parts.



Fossil Lake: an Anthology of the Aberrant

Okay, so first I have to say something up front. I'm in this anthology. My story poem, The Rack, can be found here. That has nothing to do with my decision to mention this one, I swear. It's an anthology and as much as I love anthologies I kind of don't. They can be uneven at times in terms of both quality and pacing. My story aside, This was one of the best anthologies I have read in a while. Although I will blow my own horn here and say that my story fits in nicely. I wouldn't have made the table of contents if it didn't, right?

I actually dug every single piece that was included here and I am overjoyed to be amongst such stellar company. I won't bother singling out specific stories or poems and just say that if you want to have a whole lot of fun and read some quality stuff well then this book has got you covered. It's available as both an e-book and in print from Amazon.




Imaginer: Volume one by Thomas Negovan

Imaginer is an art book that collects reproduction prints of paintings by Clive Barker. It's part of a proposed series of 8 books and Barker himself claims it to be the greatest book that has ever carried his name on it. How could I not include it here?

It's Clive Barker so that means it needs to be here. Everything this man does is of the highest quality and this collection is no exception. Though his literary output has been scarce these last few years 2015 looks to be quite a year for us Clive Barker fans. A new novel, along with some special novella releases, and Volume 2 of this series, the first of which is still available in limited quantities and well worth picking up for fans of Barker and art alike.

BUNGLE GRIND IS ONE EPIC MOTHER FUCKER

Although the politics behind their new material might seem intriguing, almost noble even, I'm still having a hard time wrapping my head around a new Faith No More album being released. I mean, step away from the plate for a moment and realize something. This band is important to me. They are not Mr. Bungle important. Still, they were an already killer band made into something so stellar and unique, with the addition of one Sir Michael Patton, that it was almost cosmic.

This band was like a ride. The coolest ride for those of us who were there on opening day at the amusement park.

Then-

 the ride stopped-

people got off-

and most of the band members faded into obscurity.

Except for Mike Patton.


The other members showed up here and there.

Most visible would be drummer, Mike Bordin.

He joined Korn and got to overdub drum tracks on the first two Ozzy Osbourne albums, as part a deranged agreement with resident wench Sharon Osbourne to discredit and disrespect original drummer, Lee Kerslake.

He even showed up as a contestant on "Who wants to be a Millionaire?"

But Mike Patton has stayed active ever since with a cavalcade of musical projects. If anything, for a while at least, he became even cooler after the band broke up.

What this man contributed to my existence is something that words alone can never truly convey.

I was Bungle Grind damn it!

I still am.

Patton's legacy can be attributed to a list of projects and guest appearances too lengthy for a proper role call. Arguably he has projects that are


far more experimental (Fantomas)

monstrously ambitious (Mondo Cane)

 

way cooler (Lovage or Peeping Tom)

and even more epic (Mr. Bungle)

But Faith No More will forever be known as the band to put this Mother Fucker on the map. They are his commercial juggernaut.

Bands split up all the time. Many stay gone, as they should. Some fathom themselves starships and launch new campaigns in efforts to reclaim something that is just not possible.

Their glory.

You see, glory is not just about some cool tunes. Glory is about a lot of things. For many bands glory is something achieved as a result of an era. Many of the most important bands of the past were made so partly by simply being a product of the times. Sure, the music may have kicked ass. But what made the appeal of certain bands so monumental was demand. They were needed.

Bands like The Doors.

Bands like The Smiths.

Bands like Rage Against the Machine.

Bands like Mr. Bungle.

Bands like Faith No More.

Bands can do reunion tours or one off shows and hereby relive a simplified, more concentrated, moment of this glory. It's hard to pull off though. Still, it can, and has, been done.

Releasing new material is an alternate beast. If there is any method known to constrict, and even annihilate completely, a creative flow worse than an extended hiatus I don't know what it is. Such matters are only to be more so complicated by the doings of time. Bands such as the ones mentioned, along with many others, have the luxury of recording songs that not only helped define the lives of people who were there the first time around, they helped to define the fabric of the very time itself. Era's such as the 60's, 70's, 80's and 90's are remembered more for their music than most other common occurrences. Music is a universal language that speaks to and for us all. Even a one hit wonder can somehow manage to stay relevant forever.

So then the idea that such a band is going to record new material, material that will sit on the shelf next to classic albums such as "The Real Thing" and "Angel Dust", is a perplexing one. Especially since the band, at one time, seemed to poo poo even the thought of such material happening in the first place. Interviews suggested they were done once their live flow had been spent.

Now, the fans know the truth. New record, new tour.

Maybe it's a challenge. I mean, the band seemed to approach the concept of a live reunion with the very same hideous reluctance. Then, "From out of Nowhere", they came, they played and they kicked ass. I guess it only seemed a natural progression in the thought process to ask "What is next?" for a bunch of guys with nothing better to do. Even Patton on his own seems bored these days.

It is thoughts like these that make me cringe. A band that said they would never record new material is now recording their first new album in 18 years because they are bored.

Oh joy. Sign me up.

As long as the material is shrouded in secrecy all hope is not lost. I admit that I was filled with flame flavored bile upon hearing of the original reunion plans. I felt like Patton was so above this at that point in his career. When I saw the clips from that first show I swallowed all that flame right back down because the band sounded refreshed and tighter than ever.

Things seemed to be just like the chorus of their opening cover song stated.... "Reunited and it feels so good."

 As with life, so it shall be with bands, things change. People change. Times change. A few shows overseas turned into a few shows in the US, which turned into more shows overseas and then.... well, what exactly? At the later shows unfamiliar material began rearing its ugly head. Covers, maybe?

Patton once sang in Tomahawk that "the cats in the bag and the bags in the river." Well, the cats out of the bag and ready to piss all over eardrums everywhere. This new album and tour seem much more like a real thing with the arrival of the bands first new single. A tender experimental little ditty called "Mother Fucker." 

In the modern technological age nothing is shrouded in secrecy any longer. New songs don't have to be only rumors for long when everyone with a cell phone can upload them onto yourtub and before we all know it, we're all special because we've all heard the new shit that is being spoken of and nothing brings out the freshness and accentuates the highlights of a brand new song from one of your favorite bands quite like a shitty clip shot from the back of a dark concert hall, or in the parking lot of a festival, with a cell phone.

Faith No More seemed to be a band on the verge of achieving the impossible. I swallowed my pride in admitting their reunion wasn't such a bad idea after all. Especially when I got to see them myself on one of those few precious shows with the love of my life on the night before my birthday. What could be more perfect than that? Certainly not their new material.

When I first heard "Mother Fucker" a younger, more emotional and eager, me would have cried enough tears to fill a last cup of sorrow. The adult me was pretty much expecting the new material to range from "eh" to "they should have broken up again." The song sucks. This is not exactly a surprise.

But things change. People change. Times change. That was weeks ago, after hearing a shitty yourtub clip. The single is being released on Black Friday so it is now posted everywhere in its proper state, which is my preferred way of experiencing new material.

Allow me to explain why this is so.

Sure, we all want to be special. We all want to be able to say we were there the first time one of our favorite artists busted out that new song that is someday going to ask fans all over "Do you remember where you were the first time you heard this?" A query that those of us who think too much are going to respond with dueling answers.

"Uhhhh, do you mean the first time I heard the song in a drunken stupor with stage divers smashing down on my head and the amps so loud I could barely comprehend the idea that I was actually hearing a song I had never heard before?"

or maybe it goes like this-

"Yeah, I was cruising with the windows down, the wind through my hair making me so wild that even my groin wanted some, and the dj blasting that new song from so and so with such excitement that I almost wrecked."

But then again-

"I can recall every detail about the day I raced up to Zia Records and grabbed the record off the shelf, took it home and threw on my headphones so that I could hear every single nook and cranny of sound, even the subliminal messages that surely will have some people talking while causing others to do unmentionable things in the streets."

I think too much. I won't apologize for that though. I just don't see things like regular people do. I also like what I like and those are the rules of being me.

I listened to "Mother Fucker" again today.

The clarity almost was enough to make me feel as if I were hearing it for the first time. How do I feel? The song is okay I guess. I don't hate it, which was how I felt the after the first few listens of those yourtub clips. Still, the song is nothing to spank ones monkey over. We all know what "The Real Thing" is and this sure ain't no real thing. After actually hearing the song though, some random thoughts floated through my head.

I have heard two other apparently new songs, via those pesky clips, and they sound way cooler.

If this were a b-side or a hidden track I would probably want to buy it a lobster dinner and croon to it.

It's only a single and singles are rarely the best tracks on the album. At least, that's how it is these days. Gone are the mammoth singles like "Immigrant Song" or "Smoke on the Water." A single today just says "Hey, the few radio stations still around need something accessible to cuddle the general public." The real fans will buy the album and discover themselves grooving to the "Real Thing" as their ears bend around the throwaway track/tracks. One, or all, of which are to be released as singles.

Most importantly though, the song is not really THAT bad. Amongst all the experiments and rocking fare it might actually fit like a delicious piece of the puzzle pizza pie. From looking at the comments on the song, as well as the other new tunes so far only making their rare concert appearances, a lot of people seem to be upset that the band is being so damn experimental these days.

Come on now!

Really?!

Faith No More experimental?!

Get with it, people. This was a band born of experimentation.

They evolved into something more radio friendly for about five minutes and then stepped right back into some funky weird shit until their demise. In fact, you know what? Fuck you. That is probably why the band broke up in the first place. Because assholes like these peoples parents wanted them to just regurgitate "Epic" after "Epic" and when they didn't the crickets came chirping.

Okay, I don't really believe this scenario for a second. My guess is that Patton just wasn't feeling it. In fact, when I saw them on the "Album of the Year" tour, though the band was great, I could not help but think that Patton wasn't feeling it. So ease up a little. They're gonna do what they're gonna do and right now they're gonna release the first new music they've recorded in seventeen years. The album makes eighteen and then a tour and then.... well, who knows?

I know Patton juggles his projects around like he's a circus act. Only time will tell the truth here.

This band said they would never reunite and they did.

They said they would never record new material and they have.

Lots of other bands have stayed dead because it just seems like the right thing to do. Led Zeppelin, The Smiths, Mr. Bungle. Face it, nothing those bands could do would possibly live up to the names themselves. Hell, if you want full on proof that some bands are just meant to stay dead and blow legacy on the winds of musical abstinence look at that Black Sabbath reunion album. Better yet, don't and just go listen to "Never say Die" and tell yourself the Sab machine was destined to become a junk pile after that.

Times have changed. People have changed. Music has changed. Bands reunite or don't for whatever reason. Some pull it off nicely, give music lovers who crave substance a thrill, and then fade into the night. Others just flat out embarrass themselves and their fans by not holding a little thing such as legacy with as much might as they probably should have. In the end, it's all a matter of opinion. Experiments that work for some are deemed failures by others. When a band matters to one as much as Faith No More matters to me, one simply can not help but take every step as if they were a literal step of their own. I am not Mike Patton, so I can not walk in his shoes, sing in his voice, or know whether or not this bands moves are drawn from the hearts of five guys who are ready to take on the new world and conquer it or whether they're just bored and need some beer money.

Bands that are "The Real Thing" tend to be nothing more than a product of their times. I once felt that witnessing the rise of a band like Jane's Addiction was every bit as exciting as watching a modern day Zeppelin in flight. Then they broke up, came back and now.... who knows?

Better yet, who cares outside of those who frequent cut out bins?

Reunions are like talk. They're cheap. Some have managed to pull it off and so far, Faith No More have done everything right. Though my expectations are hardly to see history repeat itself I have been known to eat crow from time to time. Hell, I have trouble choosing which concert was more awesome, the "Angel Dust" tour in their prime or that last reunion experience I witnessed a few years back.

The band says their new material is reminiscent of "the Cramps" and "Siouxsie and the Banshees."

Many people will probably groan at those comparisons.

Still others are hoping the band will release "The Real-er Thing" or something else equally as "Epic."

I'll just wait and see what happens and if I dig it well, then I dig it. I have to admit, that at this point, I am curious to the point of peeing a little from excitement. Hell, they are even releasing their new material on their own label, affectionately named Reclamation Records.

How cool is that?!

Faith No More is a band that has always been about experimentation. All their albums are great and stand on their own creative legs for the most simple reason. They all sound different. If that is not experimentation, then I don't know what is.

When it drops in 2015, we'll know whether this is an experiment that has continued to work or whether they should have headed for the dung heap to keep Black Sabbath company. Until then, I, Bungle Grind will be one anxiously waiting Mother Fucker.

THAT ONE KICK HAS MADE ME HEARTSICK

 Okay, so I'm late for the Chelsea Cain party. I have been seeing her name around for a while now and hearing good things. No, scratch that. Great things. When the buzzing on an author becomes so loud that it makes my head nearly explode just from being in the same world I tend to get right on it. Sorry about that, Chelsea. Better late than never though, right?

I tend to do things differently than most people. In the case of Chelsea Cain I'm working my way backwards here. I had been meaning to read her, honest. Upon its release I saw a signed copy of her newest book, One Kick, that is the start of a new series for her. It was like fate telling me that I better get my ass moving here. I'm kind of a signed book nut, see? But that is another story.

I'm a tough critic. I'll be the first to admit that I might pick up anywhere from 15-20 books on any given month, but there is a larger than life chance I will only actually finish a small fraction of those numbers. I just know what I like and, though it doesn't take much, that much seems damn hard to find at times. I have been prone to throwing a book against a wall and cursing the authors family tree after reading just a couple of sentences. So yeah, I'm tough, man. Not to sever a foot and put it on a whole other leg or anything here, but I feel like I need to state my case. I'm hard to please.

When I started reading One Kick I was instantly pulled into the story, very forcefully I might add, and did not want to come back out until I was done. There are just a handful of things that I seriously need in order to keep my attention span between the pages of any book and that is one of them. I need to be grabbed. Like right away. I don't think that is too much to ask for, now is it?

One Kick is the story of Kick Lannigan. Kidnapped as a child and left forever to be a work in progress as an adult. Aptly named, as she will kick your ass. She will also pick the lock to your heart. No, really.... she picks locks. She teams up with another mysterious bad ass named Bishop and the two of them work together to solve several cases involving missing children. The action stays popping and the story is filled with heart and soul. It's a stellar start to a whole new series and a perfect introduction to a new writer, for me at least.

I kept seeing One Kick referred to as something along the lines of "Chelsea Cain lite." The reviews were good. But people really dig her Archie Sheridan/Gretchen Lowell series. Apparently it's pretty twisted. I'm a sick fuck. So obviously I've been ignoring this party for way too long. Let's do this.

I'm not really a huge fan of reviews. It's one persons opinion and I tend to disagree with pretty much everything everybody else says. We all like what we like. But this Chelsea Cain party? Yeah, I'm a dick for not showing up here earlier. She is probably the best new writer I have been turned on to in a very long time. I finally got around to reading Heartsick and I feel like I've been welcomed home by the Jackson zombie 5 singing "Where you been, motherfucker?" as longtime Chelsea readers throw chocolate cake at me. This book kicked my ass harder than a tag team of old school Chucks, Bronson and Norris, could ever dream of doing.

I like to go into something blindly. I just feel as if books and movies work better for me if I discover their mysteries on my own terms rather than reading the whole thing on the back of a jacket or seeing one of those all too revealing trailers. I imagine that since reviews are so needed these days for any kind of art to thrive its way on into an audience I must say something here though.

In Heartsick Chelsea Cain gives us a trio of souls that are as damaged as goods can possibly be without being too broken to even exist in the scrap heap. I have heard people compare this series to "Silence of the Lambs" and I guess you could say that is fair enough. I could see where that story may have been an influence but it's like Chelsea Cain took an overall concept, cut pieces from it, threw it in a blender with her own ingrediants and made a story so compellingly twisted that it feels like any second it could jab its razor sharp prose into your eye sockets and skull fuck you for its 300 pages or so. Bravo! What more could any reader ask for?

Heartsick introduces us to Archie and Gretchen. A detective and his serial killing soul mate. Their meeting took its toll and put them both out of commission as they each find themselves retreating into other worlds. Gretchen's world exists behind a prison wall while Archie's is bathed in medicated self loathing. A new serial killer on the scene is enough to reunite the dynamic duo, though their meeting is more due to circumstance as opposed to waxing over whether this new killer prefers re-fried beans to fava. Add a spunky reporter, who is just way too damaged herself, and you have a trio of characters that will hook you into their world and never let you go. Once again I was pulled in by the first sentence here and, like One Kick, this book was stuck to my hand like blowflies on a corpse. Necessities, eating/sleeping and pooping, forced me to stop reading for moments at a time, but still I managed to knock this one out in two days and am now already halfway through Sweetheart, the second volume in the Archie/Gretchen saga.

The discovery of this series is even more welcomed as I was coming off of somewhat of a boring book slump. Now, with four and a half more titles to go, I am certain that slump has been strangled, doused with clorox, raped and tossed into a river. All courtesy of one Chelsea Cain. If there is anyone else out there who has not gotten on board the Archie/Gretchen train I can not state enough just how necessary this mode of mind travel should be. Though still an early reader here, I have no doubt that Chelsea Cain is a writer who can deliver the goods. Heartsick has made my "Best books ever" shelf on Good Reads and there it shall proudly sit until I decide to read it again at some point. It's more than that good. It's one of those books that stays with you long after you close up shop. It's darker than dark and more twisted than pretzel people playing a game of Twister. The plotting is masterful. It's characters and story will take over your head, punch you in the chest, and rip out your heart. Well, at least your spleen.

There are so many great writers out there. Each one has their own gift. Chelsea Cain is the Queen of the pull. She will pull you right in within the first sentence and, most importantly, she will keep you there. An interesting side note, as I was reading Heartsick 

I could not help but foam at the mouth over the mere thought of this series slicing its way to a screen near you and me!

Just imagine the excitement at an Archie and Gretchen showing in any theater.

It would be THE event of any year.

Hell, I would settle for a cable series. It will HAVE to be cable though. Don't even think about turning this series into a network television show. Also, whatever medium is clever enough to snap this up might I make another suggestion to Chelsea herself? Be all up in the process of adaptation. Write it yourself. Don't allow anyone else to do it. I'll give you two damn good arguments for each side.

Gone, Girl and Dexter.

There are supposed to be more Archie/Gretchen adventures down the line. Kick Lannigan as well. Chelsea Cain has me hooked whatever she does. In the meantime, I have to stop writing this review so I can get back to my threesome with Archie and Gretchen.

THROWBACK THURSDAY- APRIL 25TH 1995 MIKE WATT AND "SPECIAL GUESTS" AT THE BLACK CAT

(I would like to point out that none of the images reflect that particular evening, or concert, and were only grabbed from the internet and used to enhance the experience of this blog.)

It was a Tuesday night. April 25th 1995. The fallout from Kurt Cobain had settled and the grunge thing thankfully was following the example set by the dinosaurs. Like all unwanted trends, many of the bands faded into obscurity. The best ones went on to experiment and enjoy a little bit of success. Trends come and go. But the true masters of the music scene rock on forever.

I heard about this special tour that was gearing up. The legendary Mike Watt was releasing a solo album and assembling one hell of a back up band to support it on the road. The tour was to stop at a newer club in DC called the Black Cat. Rumored to be partially owned by Dave Grohl.

At first there was little talk of this show. Tickets quietly went on sale so I grabbed two, for me and a friend. I called up one of my best buddies and said "Dude, you will not want to miss this concert." As the day approached word got out and things started to blow up.

The night of the concert was almost comical. There were people begging for tickets. Literally begging. Some were lying on the ground and crying. Before we got to the door I overheard one guy say "If I don't get in there tonight I'm going to die." He said that he just had to see Eddie. Oh well. Sucks to be that guy. We proudly pulled out our tickets and went inside. On that night I witnessed one of the most magical concert experiences I have ever had. A perfect night.

The opening act was a band called Hovercraft. Eddie Vedder wearing a wig on drums, his wife, and two other guys playing some weird droning shit while movies played on the screen in the background. I actually thought they sucked. But we were there for something far cooler and a couple of beers later I was able to deal with the horrid musical turd that exploded from the ass of the stage. Next up were a brand new band. A band we were most excited to see. I think, even though I wanted to see Mike Watt, I was just as stoked to see this other group. That band was called the Foo Fighters.

They had only played a few shows so we were seeing something fresh. I thought they rocked that night. At the time I had no idea Dave Grohl would be singing and playing guitar, so that was kind of cool. Pat Smear was in the band then too. They were tight and played a bunch of songs from an album that hadn't come out yet. The rest, as they say, is rock history.

When Mike Watt hit the stage all hell broke loose. But it was a subdued kind of hell. We were like some exclusive club or something that night. We all had tickets to one of the hottest shows of that year and we knew it. Mike Watt played songs from his solo album, Ball Hog or Tugboat.

He also played some cover songs. The coolest of which was a cover of the Blue Oyster Cult song "The Red and the Black." Watt's back up band that night was Eddie Vedder and Pat Smear on guitar and Dave Grohl on drums. Sometimes Grohl played guitar and the drummer for the Foo Fighters played drums.

Everybody on this tour wanted to downplay their roles as rock stars and I actually think that was what made this night so spectacular. There were no ego trips that night. Just a band playing some songs. They were quite simply one of the tightest and most rocking bands I have ever seen. When we came out of the club most of the beggars and the losers had gone home. I think I saw a few of them touching the building and making animal noises. I don't remember. All I know is that I was there and it was one of the best concerts I have ever seen in my entire life.