i liked paul westerberg and the replacements

because they were – and are – totally awkward midwest genius hampered by insecutiries raw power sentiment booze drugs and genius.

they were punk when punk was dying.

they were metal without the lipstick.

they were the Strokes and the White Stripes long long long before those bands even learned their first Tom Petty chords.

they were a band that would be playing the most amazing cover song you ever heard and stop a quarter way through because they were bored, or they didnt know any more of it, or they were thirsty for another drink, or because they got pissed at each other, or because they were leaving the audience wanting more.

there is so much more that i wanted from the replacements and paul westerberg and on his new record, “stereo” we get a little more of what we loved in quite little tunes like “swinging party,” “androgynous,” and “achin to be.”

westerberg is back. it’s been a long long long time since ive gotten excited over one of his new records, but im excited about this one. so much so that i barely listen to it because i dont want to ruin it.

live, however, is a whole different story. im sure paul will bring the magic and excitement back to the stage like he did so many times even with below-average material like he had in the last years of the greatest rock band to come from minnesota – all du respect to the others.

if you are just discovering this fine musician, may i suggest starting off with “Tim” then heading over to “Let it Be” and then “Pleased To Meet Me.” and if you really love the Strokes, you will adore “Hootenanny,” lord knows the Strokes do.

and definately pick up his new cd “Stereo” that comes with a bonus cd of material from Grandpaboy, the rock music he made while going through his much publicized dark middle period.

rock and roll has some amazing stories to tell in its cold, heartless habit of creating stars and disposing of them. if i were to pick one person to write and sing those tales it would be paul westerberg and his see-through guitar.

this just in: Rivers Cuomo’s lust-interest, the only girl that i know who went to Prince’s garage sale when she covered pop music in the twin cities, yes, the chick who actually named the White Stripes the band of the year last year well before the hoopla, wrote in to add this to the PW love fiesta, her pal, and Paul’s pal, Jim Walsh, was given an exclusive interview which can be read here.

im no fan of politics

i realize it’s a dance, a game, a form of poetry, etc., but ultimately it seems to me that it’s way more about rich people staying rich or getting richer at the expense of the poor and the enviornment, but i guess that’s why they call me a liberal.

regardless, i like this picture because i’ve been emailing Saudi Crown Prince Abdullah for years to have him take a nice, kind picture and the other day he emailed me back saying that he was enjoying his visit to America and wondered if this photo was up to my standards.

yes, my friend, it is.

and i read Layne and Welch and Little Green Footballs all the time, and I know that the Prince isnt the most respected and loved by lots of those in the know, and I know that most of the Sept. 11 hijackers are Saudi, but i still like this picture. to me pictures say a million words.

if i were ever to start another website i would call it Rock Illustrated, and to the suprise of most, it would only have a few pictures of the boys and girls from my favorite genre of music, and it would have included this one.

pardon me, im still spacey as hell from the thundering pains that i experienced yesterday in my quest for pearly whites. im still slightly traumatised. so freaked that i wasnt able to put up a reasonable tribute to either of my two musical heroes Elvis Costello or Paul Westerberg.

if i had all the time in the world i would have had a great little photo essay on Westerberg today ending with this tidbit of info for all of you who reside in and around the city of angels: The former Replacements frontman will be playing tonight for free at 7pm at Ameoba Records in Hollywood.

Which should give us all enough time to run back to our homes and watch the Lakers dominate.

By the way, regardless of who ends up running Richard Riordan’s paper, they should definately call it The Daily Dick. They could have Dick of the Day, they could have Dick of the Week, Dick of the Month.

Very much in the spirit of Hustler’s “Asshole of the Month,” so i’ve been told.

My nomination for today’s Dick of the Day: the bitch ass morons who commute on my beloved Metro who, while riding the escalator, do not follow the only rule of escalating– pass on the left, ride on the right. TELL ME NO ONE EVER TAUGHT YOU THAT!