8 July 2008 :: Listravahungover.

Staff:

Scott Reid
Editor-in-Chief, Founder, Chronic Rambler

e-mail: sreid@cokemachineglow.com

CMG's Ed-in-Chief Extensively Goes Over the History of CMG While Also Defending Running A Music Criticism Site in the First Place, Thank You Very Much Everyone That Has Asked and Given Me That "Really? Wouldn't You Rather Be a Writer?" Look

I grew up in rural Newfoundland, in a > 5000 population town, Port aux Basques, on the south-west coast (maybe you've passed through once on the way to somewhere else, most probably not). Which means:

1) That I'd always kind of wish I could stay there, but most certainly couldn't because jobs just don't exist and no one under the age of 60, not even Aaron Newell anymore, lives there.

2) I would never get used to "big city livin'," and instead of staying in Toronto after graduating with York's two most useless majors (like all English or Communications majors past the denial stage, I blame myself, hastily contemplating grad school or fuck it), I came back out east, as close I could without making five bucks an hour. And that's the short-winded, kind-of-true version of why CMG is based out of Halifax. Or at least the one that doesn't involve a girl.

3) I have an obsessive personality. You grow up with absolutely nothing to do, you start to attach yourself to whatever comes along.

And here's what sucks about that obsession being music in small-town Newfoundland when you're too young to have a credit card to order anything online from the States, which you'd rather not do in the first place because you live in Canada, and taxes knock that shit up 20-25% easy (I remember paying an extra 15 bucks for Death to the Pixies when that first came out, and the 45 buck grand total soured the experience): having to buy your music from a) Radio Shack, or b) Shopper's Drug Mart, "back by the magazine rack to the left of the condoms."

Both had stellar selections, I assure you; of a grand total 40 CDs at any given time, you could choose between a sun-faded copy of an Everything But the Girl record which sat there like an ugly puppy, 30 titles of modern country and 7-8 fads: New Radicals, Primitive Radio Gods, nu-metal, Robbie Williams, stuff like that. Family trips meant actual music stores (albeit terrible ones), which meant paying 30 bucks for CDs that I couldn't find anywhere, but oh lord, how excited you get to buy a decent CD when you're so desperate for new music that you'd use your friends 9600kb dial-up dial-up connection to listen to a thirty-second clip of Surfer Rosa's "Broken Face" over and over. (Sad, true story.)

The other option: tape songs from the radio. The FM rock station (OZFM), practically the only one our town could actually pick up, was on/off depending on factors I could never really understand but seemed to have nothing to do with weather or logic. Which left, most of the time, the local AM station, meaning my old closet is probably full of tapes with Lisa Loeb's "Stay," the Gin Blossom's "Hey Jealousy" and, because my friend Beaker had stolen the tape from some guy at a party and we thought it was oh so risque!, Adam Sandler. Fucking imagine how hard up you have to be for something interesting when Adam Sandler is shocking. "Shove that shampoo bottle up my ass!" What a way to live.

Imagine also how bored you have to be in high school to actively search out pen pals online (which would shock the hell out of most people I know who assume the internet is just now being imagined, like flying cars or "the cure," in our clay-paved, ice-ravaged communities, where we surely gather at town hall to collectively watch the CBC) because, hey, ain't nobody 'round here want to talk about the Melvins, and maybe I do. Mine, a young fellow named Michael from Tucsan, sent me a tape in '98 with Spoon's A Series of Sneaks on Side A and Neutral Milk Hotel's In An Aeroplane Over the Sea on the flip. In return, I sent a tape of myself wailing away in all my awkward teenage glory, solo, on electric guitar into a boombox about with song titles like "Shame" and "Experimental Demon Trend." It hardly seems fair.

Now, by that point I'd already found hallelujah in OK Computer, I'd already started to root out some great music (mostly old stuff, "classics," kind of heading wherever I wasn't instantly bored or revolted), but this was something else altogether; I hadn't heard anything else like it. Flowers bloomed, birds scattered into the sky, oil wells pumped up and down, a tremendous wave of multi-coloured fireworks went off. It was the love scene from Naked Gun, replete with the final dunk and frozen-in-time facial expression. It was glorious.

So anyway, that's what started me off needing to hear new music, music that was nothing like what I'd usually see/hear (remember when The Wedge was an every night show, and they'd actually play Sonic Youth and Sebadoh and knew exactly what kind of voice it wanted to have? That was nice...), music that meant a lot more than "boy, that sure sounds good." The kind of music you'd l(o/i)ve to the point where you'd care enough to scribble on binders and clothes and skin and, if you're one of those kids, your chucks or something, in big black block lettering (or white out, depending on the colour) so people will ask about it so you can scoff and say "Oh, that? That's a Replacements lyric, have you heard the Replacements..."

But the selection at Radio Shack never evolved with that, so the first chance I got, I headed west. Five years of college and actual record stores/concerts/people later, CMG is reluctantly born. It gets updated every two-three weeks or so (a review or two each time) until I assume it'd always be as tedious (it is) and, in what was planned to be the site's last pitiful hurrah, I write this terrible and overarching review of Hail to the Thief. It stays up for about six weeks and somehow catches the attention of Amir Nezar, who --- and I wish I had a picture of the look on my face when he e-mailed, it would be priceless and at least offer a reason for reading all this drivel --- offers to write for the site, convincing me that maybe I shouldn't just pull the plug, that I should play this thing out, see what happens. Despite it, at the time, looking like this. What a guy.

And from there the site just kind of grew, like most of these things do, slowly, writer by writer, design by design, contact by contact. It became easier to take it seriously, especially when our staff started approaching six (!), and then suddenly we had editors and a weekly schedule and promos without having to beg for them (in most cases) and, imagine, readers. But the great cash-cow that I imagined it would be just continued to cost us: hours, sleep, credibility, money, girls, sun, brain cells, classes, etc. So, like, why bother, right?

Other than "I love writing, I love music, seems to make sense, wah?": I (/we/CMG) like to recommend music to people who probably don't have all the time in the world to sift through all the shit to find the 40-50 records a year that make sites like this seem like they love everything, because they're so over the top and "OK guys, listen up, listen good, there's this new great record, you're going to love this as much as I do, and that's a lot because..." And we bother to go through all that trouble, to spend time with that much music, to assume you care and assume that you'll trust us and that we're worth trusting, because a) we're going to be listening to those albums anyway, and b) introducing someone to a great record, one that they'll connect to and love and possibly scribble intently about, is such an elation, such a contagious feeling --- like a good samaritan that, instead of helping out in tangible ways, recommends things he thinks may make your life better. And if we had an outlet to do that, to get that word out to people who might be interested in that kind of thing...why, that'd be great!

So now we just hope that people don't make our name synonymous with the most awful aspects of what we do, that it doesn't crash and burn out of utter incompetence, and that people continue to read because maybe we're not as useless as the other guy. Is that commendable? A lofty enough goal? On billboards, in the bountiful future when we can afford such frivulous things: "Cokemachineglow: Not As Useless As the Other Guy." "Cokemachineglow: Setting the Bar Slightly Higher."

As for me, I'm 26, I kinda-sorta still freelance for Exclaim! though I haven't in forever, I hate the word "custard," I didn't freak out over Kid A, I work nights so I walk through the streets of Bedford like a zombie with big headphones, I'm a chronic procrastinator, my favorite band is the Beach Boys, I once teared up pretty badly while reading an A.S. Byatt novel on a flight, I've never broken a bone but I did once get hit just below the eye with a golf club hard enough to dent my face, I never had a memorable nickname ("Scoot" lacked effort), and, as I edit this bio for the eighteenth time, I'm listening to Boom Bip and Dose One's Circle. Hi.

Record Reviews:

Most Recent /

Blind Melon :: For My Friends
(Adrenaline; 2008)Frog Eyes :: Tears of the Valedictorian
(Absolutely Kosher; 2007)Spiral Beach :: Spiral Beach (NBH)
(Self-released; 2006)The Tragically Hip :: World Container
(Universal; 2006)Chad VanGaalen :: Skelliconnection
(Sub Pop/Flemish Eye; 2006)

[↓see all] /

+/- (Plus Minus) :: You Are Here Aarktica :: Pure Tone Audiometry Ryan Adams :: Rock N Roll Akron/Family :: Akron/Family Angels of Light :: Sing 'Other People' Animal Collective :: Feels Animal Collective :: Sung Tongs Antony & the Johnsons :: I Am a Bird Now Arcade Fire :: Arcade Fire EP / Funeral Devendra Banhart :: Niño Rojo Devendra Banhart :: Rejoicing in the Hands The Beach Boys :: Smiley Smile (OF) Bonnie "Prince" Billy :: Greatest Palace Music Blackout Beach :: Light Flows the Putrid Dawn Blind Melon :: Soup (OF) Blind Melon :: For My Friends Brando :: 943 Recluse The Burning Paris :: And by December You Will Know Where Your Heart Truly Lies EP Camera Obscura :: Underachievers Please Try Harder Neko Case :: Fox Confessor Brings the Flood Neko Case :: The Tigers Have Spoken Centro-matic :: Love You Just the Same Clinic :: Winchester Cathedral cLOUDDEAD :: Ten Leonard Cohen :: Dear Heather The Concretes :: The Concretes The Dean Malenkos :: The Album That Turns Girls Into Sluts The Dears :: No Cities Left The Decemberists :: Castaways & Cutouts The Decemberists :: Her Majesty, The Decemberists The Decemberists :: The Tain EP Deftones :: Deftones The Delays :: Faded Seaside Glamour Destroyer :: Your Blues Destroyer & Frog Eyes :: Notorious Lightning and Other Works EP Destroyer :: This Night dEUS :: In a Bar, Under the Sea (OF) Do Make Say Think :: Winter Hymn Country Hymn Secret Hymn Doves :: Some Cities Gordon Downie :: Coke Machine Glow Gordon Downie :: Battle of the Nudes The Earlies :: These Were the Earlies Peter Elkas :: Party of One Eluvium :: Lambent Material Eluvium :: Accidental Memory in Case of Death EP Enon :: Hocus Pocus Enon :: High Society Andre Ethier :: With Christopher Sandes Featuring Pickles and Price The Exploding Hearts :: Guitar Romantic Explosions in the Sky :: The Earth is Not a Cold Dead Place Fake Cops :: Absolutely Your Credit is Excellent But In a Certain Way We Also Need Cash EP B. Fleischmann :: Welcome Tourist Fog :: Hummer EP Frog Eyes :: Tears of the Valedictorian Frog Eyes :: The Future is Inter-Disciplinary or Not at All EP Matthew Good :: White Light Rock & Roll Review Matthew Good :: Avalanche Ben Gunning :: Beigy Blur Sarah Harmer :: All of Our Names The Heavy Blinkers :: The Night & I Are Still So Young The Heavy Blinkers/Orwell :: Intercontinental Pop Exchange No. 3 EP The Heavy Blinkers :: Better Weather Kristin Hersh :: Hips & Makers (OF) The Hidden Cameras :: AWOO The Hidden Cameras :: Mississauga Goddam Hymie's Basement :: Hymie's Basement Iron & Wine :: Our Endless Numbered Days Will Johnson :: Vultures Await Kings of Convenience :: Riot on an Empty Street Lambchop :: Aw Cmon/No You Cmon Lighthouse Choir :: Lighthouse Choir (NBH) Loscil :: First Narrows Lotek Hi-Fi :: Lotek Hi-Fi Magnolia Electric Co. :: What Comes After the Blues Man'sbestfriend :: The New Human is Illegal Mardeen :: Friends Don't Love EP (NBH) Massive Attack :: 100th Window Mclusky :: The Difference Between Me and You is That I'm Not on Fire The Midways :: Pay More And Get A Good Seat (NBH) Minus Story :: The Captain is Dead Let the Drum Corpse Dance Minus Story :: Heaven and Hell EP Jason Molina :: Pyramid Electric Co. The Mountain Goats :: We Shall All Be Healed Mouse on Mars :: Radical Connector Muse :: Absolution My Morning Jacket :: Acoustic Citsuoca: Live at the Startime Pavilion Oct. 31st The New Pornographers :: Electric Version A.C. Newman :: Slow Wonder Nirvana :: With the Lights Out Box Nymphomatriarch :: Nymphomatriarch The Organ :: Grab That Gun (NBH) OutKast :: Speakerboxxx/The Love Below Pajo :: Pajo Pernice Brothers :: Discover a Lovelier You Joel Plaskett Emergency :: Truthfully, Truthfully Poison :: Look What the Cat Dragged In (OF) Radar Bros. :: The Fallen Leaf Pages Rogue Wave :: Out of the Shadow Rogue Wave :: Descended Like Vultures Royal City :: Little Heart's Ease The Shins :: Chutes Too Narrow Shotgun & Jaybird :: Sackville Classics for Simple Ukulele Six Parts Seven :: Lost Notes from Forgotten Songs Sloan :: A Sides Win: Singles 1992-2005 Spiral Beach :: Spiral Beach (NBH) The Strokes :: Room on Fire Supersilent :: 6 Tangiers :: Never Bring You Pleasure Thee Moths :: A Small Glass Ghost The Tiny :: Close Enough The Tragically Hip :: World Container The Tragically Hip :: In Between Evolution Transistor Sound & Lighting Co. :: Transistor Sound & Lighting Co. (NBH) John Vanderslice :: Cellar Door Chad VanGaalen :: Skelliconnection Chad VanGaalen :: Infiniheart (NBH) The Walkmen :: Everyone Who Pretended To Like Me is Gone Tamara Williamson :: All Those Racing Horses Brian Wilson :: SMiLE Brian Wilson :: Gettin' In Over My Head Wolfmother :: Dimensions EP Pete Yorn :: Day I Forgot Young & Sexy :: Life Through One Speaker (NBH) Neil Young :: Greatest Hits Comp Neil Young :: Prairie Wind

Co-authored ::

Akron/Family & Angels of Light :: Akron/Family & Angels of Light My Morning Jacket :: Evil Urges

[↓top rated albums of 2008 by this author] /

Blind Melon :: For My Friends
(Adrenaline; 2008) / Rating: 38 / Combined Rating: N/A

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