I'm on my first "vacation" in five years. For my last I took off of work to follow a newly-reformed Motley Crüe. This time I'm spending a week in Myrtle Beach. I used to come here every year as a kid, but have avoided it ever since I was old enough to be left home alone.
I don't like the beach, the South, or the sun, but I needed some sort of a break. I recently went through a bitter breakup (the finale of an even more bitter relationship) and I had begun re-evaluating the people surrounding me. I figured the trip could give me a slightly more existential perspective... and my parents would flip the bill for my excessive drinking and the luxury of eating more than once a day.
The second I made my decision my head was reeling with ways to turn this into some kind of an article ["Top 5 Beach Movies of Alltime" (1. Fat Girl, 2. Persona, 3. Pierrot le fou...), "An Eccentric's Guide to Vacationing in the South," etc]. These ideas were either rejected or began to bore me. There was one pending question, however, that had to be answered before I left town. What CD's was I going to bring?
I'm yet to succumb to digital music and, for once in my life, I was packing light. This meant a strict and neurotic filtering of 4,000 of the greatest albums ever recorded. My self-imposed rules: no two albums by the same artist and nothing that could be considered work (nothing that's getting "reviewed" anytime soon). So what does that leave me with? First I have "The Fun Stuff," comprised largely of anthemic power pop (The Dollyrots, Bif Naked, Stewart) and endearingly upbeat (if only in their delivery) singer/songwriters (Kate Nash, Jemina Pearl, Butch Walker) that lend themselves to spastic dancing and self-reflective sing-alongs. And then there's "The Snobby Stuff," the desert-island albums that (in most cases) changed the world and that I would have trouble leaving behind on a day-long road trip. I wanted to have more fun than I usually allow myself, but I also didn't want to be left with an "All-Stars of the Warped Tour" mix. So, without further adieu, here are the albums that Izzy took to the beach.
Be Your Own Pet - Be Your Own Pet
Although lacking in feminist rhetoric, Be Your Own Pet embodied the brashly danceable aesthetic of Riot Grrrl better than anyone since Kathleen Hannah owned up to being straight.
Deluka - Deluka
Currently my favorite band... and not only because they were kind enough to get me drunk at the Khyber. Their debut EP is comprised of synth pop that is both ineffably danceable and quite badass, a bit like The Sounds. Plus, their lead singer, Ellie, is pretty much the most enchanting creature I've ever met.
The Dollyrots - Eat My Heart Out
"Sometimes I say 'dance' in a song and I mean something else" said Dollyrots' frontwoman Kelly Ogden with a coy smile during a recent Trocadero performance. These are some of the most unapologetically fun songs ever written about "dancing."
Horrorpops - Hell Yeah!
Nothing to relax an alt. youth like catchy tunes about tattoos, biker gangs, and seaside murder.
The (International) Noise Conspiracy - Live at Oslo Jazz Festival
A rare example of art inspired by the work of Karl Marx, Jean Genet, and Michel Foucault that can be described as "fun."
Bif Naked - I Bificus
Bif Naked was the first "rock star" I ever hung out with at the 9:30 Club as a teenager. The brilliant brand of saccharinely angsty pop found on this album could make Paramore its bitch.
Kate Nash - Made of Bricks
As my readers know, I'm quite taken with Kate Nash and while on a break from the real world it's nice to imagine that a girl of such cleverness, delicacy, and class is perhaps somewhat closer than a dream.
Jemina Pearl - Break it Up
Former Be Your Own Pet frontwoman's solo debut is the sound of a sugary-sweet epileptic fit. Only three individuals managed to make it onto this list more than once: Morrissey, Dennis Lyxzen, and... You're in good company, Ms. Pearl.
Stewart - Kicks
I hadn't heard of this band until a few months ago, but these 8 tracks are the best thing I've listened to all year. From the time I heard the line "You're harder to read that Proust" I was completely smitten.
Butch Walker - Sycamore Meadows
Sycamore Meadows is the best album that Tom Petty never got around to recording. Butch embraces his crass brand of Southern charm and churns out 12 bittersweet anthems perfect for late-night campfire gatherings.
Bauhaus - In the Flat Field
I think it may be a mortal sin to listen to Bauhaus at the beach (or in daylight), but I felt as though nothing could shield my black heart from the effects of the sun quite like the greatest Goth album of all time.
Bjork - Selmasongs
If you were floored by the genital mutilation scene in Lars von Trier's Antichrist last year, just wait until you hear his collaboration with Bjork. It's just as painful, but you can sing along.
The Horrors - Strange House
Although their latest release reeks of Psychedelic Furs B-sides, their debut is more along the lines of Bauhaus as a Ramones tribute band. How did this not top the charts?
Jane's Addiction - Jane's Addiction
Despite the fact that it was Nothing's Shocking that included "Up The Beach," "Ocean Size," and "Summertime Rolls," Jane's' debut of perfectly organic amalgamations of the accessible and the obscure make it the perfect formula for a music snob on vacation.
The Long Blondes - Someone to Drive You Home
Long Blondes' lyricist (and guitarist) Dorian Cox may be the only man on the planet capable of packing more obscure pop culture references into a single line than myself. On top of that, he managed to surround himself with a crew of vixens (and another bloke) capable of the catchiest tunes ever uttered by chic elitists.
Morrissey - Your Arsenal
There's no place in America more appropriate for listening to "The National Front Disco" than the Good Ole' South.
Placebo - Placebo
Remember when Brian Molko and Asia Argento were completely indistinguishable? I miss those days. Placebo's debut may have out-Sueded Suede and made the androgyny of 70s Glam Rock look nuclear-family-approved. Likely the most aggressively transgressive pop album to ever exist.
Refused - Songs to Fan the Flames of Discontent
The perfect Hardcore album, even for those who don't like Hardcore. It also proved to be the perfect musical companion to my collection of James Baldwin novels that served as vacation reading material.
The Slits - Cut
Despite being the most conventionally beachy album on the list, The Slits' debut (at 31) still sounds about a century away from being played by vacationing white families.
The Smiths - Rank
For someone like me, having to choose a single Smiths album to last a whole week is a bit like Sophie's Choice. Yes, it was a bit of a cop-out to choose the posthumous live album, but how could you expect me to get by without "Still Ill" and "Ask?"
The Velvet Underground - The Velvet Underground & Nico
I'm hard-pressed to think of a superlative list that this doesn't belong on. If this album had never been recorded, I'm not so sure there would be music worth listening to.
