I'm old. I remember reading NME's Top 100 Albums of All Time issue. It seems so recent. It was 1993. They said it'd be another ten years until they devised another such list.

Which brings us to 2003. The list is out, and get comfortable, because this will go on for a while. I'm not going to insult anyone by attempting a "lots has happened in music since 1993" essay, because I have nothing particularly witty to say about the sludging crawl of time and I'm not stupid enough to believe I can sum up ten years of music in three sentences. Even run-on ones. Instead, I'm going to toss out random comments, present random statistics (since I'm a geek and all that), and run down the top 20.

FIRST THOUGHTS. A disturbing absence of jazz, oldies (Elvis, Frank), and soul (Otis, Aretha). The 1993 chart had lots of that stuff. Instead, there's loads and loads of guitar bands. And not your dad's rock bands. The Stones and Dylan, for instance, have been shunted way down the list. Almost no electronic music.

But my most prominent first impression was the issue of recent albums. In 1993, the voters (NME writers) seemed hesitant to put (then) recent records on the list. In 2003, there are recent albums in abundance. Way too much in abundance, in fact. The White Stripes "Elephant" is there, and it's NOT EVEN RELEASED YET. The Streets? The Coral? That stuff is supposed to be timeless classic stuff?

This is where I get off the soap box and clamour for the cold, hard, statistics. I make no claim as to the exactitude of any of the following numbers. Basically, I may have miscounted at some point, but I'm confident I'm right to within a few percent. The conclusions do not change. _________ In 1993, there were 8 albums from the previous two years ('91, '92), 18 from 1988 or later, and 32 from 1983 or later.

For 2003? 9, 16, 32, respectively. It seems as though I've been carrying around some prejudices for ten years. The NME is almost precisely as biased toward recent releases now as they were then. Believe me, I was shocked after doing this tally. To give them further credit, 4 of those 8 albums from '91 and '92 are on the '03 chart. Two more (PJ Harvey and Spiritualized), bands that were very new in 1993, charted different records this time than in '93. Clearly, the NME did a good job in recognizing brand new talent back in '93. In that case, I'll give them the benefit of the doubt and state that they should know what they're doing by honouring the neophytes in '03. Incidentally, 30 writers voted in '93, 36 voted this time around, and the only person to vote in both polls is John Mulvey. Cheers to you, John.

I am proud to own 29 albums on the '93 list, and 42 on the '03 list. And allow me to defend my previously confessed prejudice by addressing the rather large turnover between the two lists. Only 46 albums from the '93 list are still around in '03. Of course, 32 of the 54 new albums were released in the interregnum, but that still leaves another 22 albums, more than one-fifth of the chart, that could have appeared in '93 but were not chosen. However, 6 of the '93 Top Ten are in the '03 Top Ten, and the other 4 all remained in the Top Thirty. Plus, only 3 of the 54 albums that have been turfed from the '93 chart were in that chart's Top Twenty. Therefore, there has been considerable turnover in the Top 100, but the albums that were considered the greatest of the great in '93 have remained so today.

"Sgt. Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band", arguably the most overrated album of the rock era, was #1 on the 1974 chart. It was #33 in '93, and is nowhere to be found in '03. Good. It's taken a few decades, but that record's fifteen minutes are up. It's dramatically slipped southward on Best Album charts over the last decade, losing ground in particular to far worthier Beatles records. It's also nice to see Brian Wilson finish ahead of the Beatles yet again. The Smiths paced everybody with four albums. Second to "Queen" is "Strangeways Here We Come" at #25. That record has undergone an amazing rehabilitation over the last ten years, transcending the stigma of the being the album that broke up the band, and is now viewed as great in it's own right. But I still prefer "Hatful of Hollow" (#51).

I was personally pleased to see two Pulp albums, "His 'N Hers" and surprise surprise "This Is Hardcore". Hell, if you told me that the NME picked two Pulp records on it's Top 100, I surely would have figured "Different Class" to be one of them. But I can't argue with quality. Visionaries such as myself (ahem) have touted it as a lost classic for some time now. That record is to Pulp's discography what "Blood on The Tracks" is to Dylan's. For two decades, it was considered to be off-peak Dylan, but is now considered his best work in many circles. Including the NME -- "BotT" is the only Dylan album left on their chart. "Highway 61 Revisited" (#14 in '93) is the highest from '93 to have gone missing in '03. "Blonde on Blonde" (#17 in '93) is third-highest. Also, kudos for respecting one of the finest bands to ever walk the earth, Kraftwerk, with "Trans Europe Express" at #36. One of the biggest strikes against their candidacy in the Greatest Band Ever sweepstakes is their lack of a breakout "it" album, a "The Queen Is Dead", a "Parallel Lines", or yes, a "Sgt. Peppers". Consistently great bands are often forgotten in this way, since their many fine records split the votes. If the campaign manager need a consensus behind the manufacture of a zeitgeist album for Kraftwerk, "TEE" (although not necessarily their best) is certainly my choice. The title track invented rap and industrial, and name-checks Iggy Pop and David Bowie. What's not to worship?

Now let's examine the Top Twenty in a bit more detail. Placings on the '93 chart are in brackets.

1 (5). The Stone Roses : "The Stone Roses". I have absolutely no qualms about this. It's easily one of my top five fave albums ever. The '93 chart was compiled during a time of "where in heck are the Roses these days?" uber-hype. I was thinking it just might pull off the #1 last time. I wasn't shocked at all this time.

2 (-). Pixies : "Doolittle". On the other hand, I wasn't expecting this in the least. Only "Surfer Rosa" showed in '93, this one did not. The recent wave of critical acclaim bestowed upon garage punk is a clear f-you to the candy coated PG pop that's dominated both sides of the Atlantic for far too many years. This makes indie rock fans hearken for the days of simpler DIY punk pop, but not garbage like Sum 41, and not anything as emotionally heavy as grunge (nobody wants to think about Kurt's instabilities when there's fun to be had courtesy of the Hives). Hence, the increased importance placed on bands like the Pixies. A #2 ranking is completely preposterous, but it does make me want to buy "Death to the Pixies" a bit more.

3 (1). Beach Boys : "Pet Sounds". Has there ever been a greater four year period of musical creativity for one person than Brian Wilson, 1962-1966?

4 (26). Television : "Marquee Moon". I've never heard this record. But NYC-sounding bands are kinda popular with rock crits these days, or so I've been told.

5 (2). The Beatles : "Revolver". I can never pick between this and the White Album. Would you like to hear the marathon or the sprint? It bears repeating -- this record blows "Sgt. Peppers" out of the sky. It's quite firmly ensconced in it's "Best Beatles Album" role, with no clear end in sight.

6 (18). Love : "Forever Changes". I hear this record is quite bonkers. It wasn't Love's only album, although many probably think that it is. In that light, "Forever Changes" is quite firmly ensconced as the "Best One-Shot Wonder Album" in rock history. Maybe I can drum up support for the first Drugstore album and try to claim that misapplied crown for it someday.

7 (-). The Strokes : "Is This It?". Talk about too much too soon. I own this album. When I listen to it, I enjoy it. It is obviously not one of the best albums ever. I firmly believe that only the trainspotters will remember The Strokes and The White Stripes in ten years time. With the turnover rate of musical trends being what they are, it may only take five or six years. Remember the Spice Girls? Not many people do, which is mind-blowing for anyone who lived through their heyday.

8 (10). The Smiths : "The Queen Is Dead". The Smiths legacy has not waned one bit in the last fifteen years. Amazing.

9 (6). The Velvet Underground : "The Velvet Underground and Nico". As with the Smiths, hardcore fans are split over which is the best Velvets record. But, I believe those hardcore fans would agree that for people who are new to their music, "The Velvet Underground and Nico" (and "The Queen is Dead") is the best introduction.

10 (3). The Sex Pistols : "Never Mind the Bullocks Here's the Sex Pistols". This is becoming the "Sgt. Peppers" of punk. It's a really really good record, and achieves a high placing on lists like these because it's so famous and has become the aural symbol of an entire time period, if not an entire genre of music. But over time, the subjective memories of that time period fade, and what is left are the relatively objective pieces of vinyl and metallic thin film coatings. Thus, the stature of its contemporary albums, such as "Marquee Moon" and "The Ramones", steadily grows.

11 (-). My Bloody Valentine : "Loveless". YES YES YES YES YES!! It's classic stature has grown immeasurably over the years. Maybe I can even claim 0.0000000000004 % of the credit for helping these opinions gain prominence. MBV are truly the Velvet Underground of the last fifteen years -- not many people bought their records, but everyone who did formed a band or badly wanted to form a band just like them.

12 (7). The Clash : "London Calling". A record with incredible staying power, particularly since it sounds fairly conventional these days. RIP Joe Strummer.

13 (-). Oasis : "Definitely Maybe". Oasis are nowhere near this great, but the NME did rank this far above "Morning Glory", which is exactly where it belongs.

14 (20). Joy Division : "Closer". I still maintain that "Unknown Pleasures" is better, but history has consistently deemed this one superior for two decades. I'm always flattered when JD are ranked high on any list -- I can scarcely believe that so many people continue to like them so much.

15 (-). Nirvana : "In Utero". Please recall my Velvets and Smiths comments at #9. Now reapply. Is this really becoming "the" Nirvana record? Is this a result of a post-1990's "Nevermind" backlash?

16 (-). Radiohead : "OK Computer". At least they didn't give this one the Strokes treatment, although if this list had been compiled in 1998 I'm sure they would have.

17 (-). Spiritualized : "Ladies and Gentlemen We Are Floating In Space". Please recall my Velvets and Smiths comments at #9. Now reapply. Unless the Delgados land a car commercial and get a number one hit from it, overproduction is unlikely to become the next mega trend and "Let It Come Down" will continue to polarize critics and be neglected.

18 (52). Blondie : "Parallel Lines". Here's exactly what I was talking about with reference to the Pixies. The Sound of NYC Bands is the Sound Critics Love to Hear These Days. How else to explain SIX of them in the Top 20 of this list. But Blondie's genius is no exaggeration, they were the real deal, spanning a billion different genres of music, helping to legitimize punk pop (the whole lot from Green Day to Avril Lavigne wouldn't exist without Blondie), and doing it all with sex appeal and impeccable musicianship thrown into the mix. All of this is evident on "Parallel Lines", which probably sold more records than everything else in this Top 20 combined, and remains one of the few records in rock history to be a mega seller without being viewed as a sellout ...

19 (12). Nirvana : "Nevermind". ... and the same goes for "Nevermind".

20 (-). The White Stripes : "White Blood Cells". I think my opinion is already clear regarding this albums ridiculously high placement, so congratulations if you've read this far and let's so this again in 2013.

Avril Lavigne keeps landing those magazine covers. And they keep placing her at the forefront of the vague Anti-Britney movement. Of course, this is nothing more than Women & Songs Volume 7: The Teenage Years. Music fans, not to mention all free-thinking women, should be deeply insulted every time such things happen.

Consider these comments my tribute to International Women's day. The music industry seems to run through cycles where they come to the startling (to them), overtly sexist revelation that women are capable of writing and performing songs just like men, manufacture a bogus musical womens movement in a blatant attempt to shift product, and then forget it all. Lather, rinse, repeat five years later.

In most industries, once something different "breaks through", it ceases to become novel and is subsequently a non-issue. Take the NFL. Stereotypes have long persisted about certain positions. So, when black quarterbacks began making a splash in the league, their race was a notable facet of their performance. Now, there are many excellent black quarterbacks, and despite the position still being dominated by whites, it was no longer a race issue when, say, Michael Vick started making the highlight reels. He's not considered a distinguished black quarterback, he's just a distinguished quarterback.

Women have been a dominant songwriting force in popular music for decades, yet they're constantly pigeonholed into some stupidly named breakthrough movement and treated like novelty items, i.e. "lookie here, that Avril babe it cute and she can write a song unlike that Barbie doll Britney, well ain't that the darndest thing", until the movement dies just like any other movement and they're forced to prove themselves yet again.

Brit Awards Diary.

0:01. My lord, what an *unbelievable* opening minute with Pink! Popping out of a giant royal crown, band *storming* through "Get the Party Started" -- astounding stuff. I didn't care for the next four minutes of her performance, but what a great start.

0:06. I agree -- it's a cool innovation to put the podium in the middle of the hall, directly in front of the nominees. But the trade-off is the loss of the dining tables with wine bottles and drunk attendees. This new setup is like a convocation.

0:08. Will Young is managed by Simon Fuller (Spice Girls). Well, that certainly makes sense. Will says that Simon isn't afraid to tell him when he's got a bad idea, which he admits is often. No shit, you talentless turd.

0:10. The crowd is less than thrilled at Norah Jones' win for best International Newcomer. I laugh as she gives a serious acceptance speech (via tape) at the lager-it-up Brits.

0:12. Blue. Piss break.

0:22. What sick, sick choices for Best British Single. Somebody inform Gareth Gates that post-1991 covers of "Unchained Melody" are completely unwarranted.

0:23. I'm loving host Davina McColl's constant breast jokes.

0:26. Robbie Williams isn't there? That's shameful.

0:27. Justin Timberlake. At an American awards show, his performance would be a notable portion of the evening. The trouble is, it's been a solid half hour of boy and girl toy prepackaged stuff so far, hence, Justin is practically inconspicuous.

0:30. However, Kylie Minogue doing the "Rapture" rap -- that's real sweet. I could certainly live without Justin's falsetto, though.

0:36. Ms. Dynamite beat out nine(!) others for British Urban Act. All this seamless mixing of the songs during the nominee announcements is a cool idea in theory, but it mainly shows how homogeneous all the acts are. Anyway, she gives a mini speech about respecting her and the other nominees since they work so hard at what they do. Babe, everyone's seen "Making the Band" and "Popstars" so we know there's a lot of rehearsal involved, but most of you are still manufactured catalysers, synthesized for the purpose of increasing product-shifting rates. Live with it.

1:00. International Female is awarded to Pink. Accents aside, you can always identify the Americans because they're thanking 500 people rather than just snickering "thank you" and losing their balance on the podium.

1:05. Coldplay put laser lights to opulent use during a transcendent "Clocks". Sure, it's Earls Court, they've got every right to do a Pink Floyd light show if they want.

1:11. Best British Dance Act. Remember when Orbital, Prodigy and Massive Attack were competing for this year after year? You know, back when there were competent bands nominated in this category? Now it's the urban sameness that's nominated n EVERY other category. On the bright side, notice that the # of categories proliferates like jackrabbits from year to year, and yet the show moves along FASTER and thus, doesn't run any longer than normal. American awards shows, take note.

1:20. Avril Lavigne + 21 drummers + Sk8er Boi. That kind of creativity keeps rock and roll as a viable proposition.

1:25. Best British Group = Coldplay. Also nominated are Blue, Oasis, Doves, Sugababes. When did I wake up from Pop Hell and return to a world with an awards show contested by (mainly) good bands? And Davina McColl is right -- where's the controversy this year?

1:28. Almost on cue, Eminem swears his way through his acceptance speech for Best International Album (delivered via taped message, however).

1:30. Ms. Dynamite blatantly tries to re-create Kylie's 2002 show-stealer "Can't Get Blue Monday Out of My Head" by stealing George Michael's "Faith". But you've gotta respect her, she worked hard to rip off that song.

1:39. By winning Best Album, Coldplay earn their fourth Brit, tying them with Oasis according to the voiceover guy. Maybe the Gallaghers can take solace by being secure in knowing they'd win the back alley brawl between the two bands. Hey, why not, Chris Martin issued an open challenge for a fight during his last speech. Put in on a Pay Per View and charge fifty bucks, I'd watch. This time around, he mocks/imitates presenter Justin Timberlake's dancing in the "Like I Love You" video and states these awards won't mean much after Dubbya kills us all in a war. Who would have guessed that CHRIS FRIGGING MARTIN would supply the night's only controversy. He must be turning into a prick from hanging out with Gwyneth's spoiled friends.

1:41. What a Tom Jones tribute, featuring dozens of cool clips and celeb memoirs. TJ singing "I Walk the Line" with Johnny Cash and June Carter! Singing with Aretha, Stevie. Robbie Williams atones for his absence with touching words about what TJ's meant to him. Then, Tom ruins it all by sporting a goatee on stage. But he too atones with a kickass medley of his songs.

2:00. Tom's done, and so are we, right on time.

I brainstormed the following little experiment: take the CD's that are in my travel case, and comment on each of them using exactly twenty words. Can I possibly have anything worthwhile to say without the use of run-on sentences? Let's see ...

Vapaa Muurari -- Uusitalo. Live set featuring fluid minimal techno very much in the Mike Ink style, as well as standard Pole knock-off material.

Global Communication -- Remotion. They made one of the best ambient albums ever, and this remix compilation isn't far behind. Where are they now?

Laika -- Good Looking Blues. Poor Laika never get any attention, probably because they defy pigeonholing so well. At least twenty minutes too long, though.

Kraftwerk -- Concert Classics. I can't believe the legendary recluses gave this an official go-ahead. That's no knock against the quality of the music.

P.A.L. -- M@rix. Ant-Zen can do no wrong. Dancing to rhythmic noise, I'm convinced, requires slightly unstable brain chemistry, thus curtailing it's popularity.

Primal Scream -- XTRMNTR. Three years on, this still rocks like nobody's business. "Evil Heat" is good, but can't hold a candle to this.

Sonic Youth -- Goo. The same formula they perfected with "Daydream Nation", but missing a certain spark. They'll never top DN, but that's OK.

Bardo Pond -- Big Laughing Jym. A missing link between Slint, grunge, and their current stuff. In other words, they weren't as "out there" in 1995.

Flowchart -- Multi-Personality Tabletop Vacation. It's scarcely left my carrying case since I got it. It works any day or time, with anybody in the vicinity.

Richie Hawtin -- DE9 Closer To the Edit. I don't view it as the classic it's reported to be. I'm probably spoiled by his infinitely harder live sets.

My weekly HMV Communique email arrived today, and here is an excerpt:

THE MUSIC: Sure, it's tempting to take the British press with less than a grain of salt - remember Menswear? Adorable? Didn't think so. But at the very least this scraggly bunch pull off a powerful, tuneful reinterpretation of the groove-based rock that turned Manchester into the hub of modern culture.

Sometimes I wonder why I even bother receiving these newsletters anymore. I guess I like keeping abreast of what's "out there". I guess it's worth it if I take pleasure in making fun of them once in a while.

I've only been reading the British music press since 1992 (read: post-grunge, for the purposes of this discussion) but in that time, anything that is hyped over there is initially met with derision and skepticism over here. In some sense, the arrival of a new record by a British artist is treated like the release of a new computer virus: it's on it's way, so let's be vigilant and hope it passes quickly so we'll never have to mention it again. Thus, post-1992 or so, North American journalists by and large feel that this continent has regained a monopoly on producing good rock bands and passing judgment on them. As if being a fan of Nickelback or Limp Bizkit is something to be proud of.

Why is this? Grunge was so ten years ago. There's no exclusivity statute that gives anyone the right to claim a decade's worth of blanket superiority due to a couple of decent bands and ideas. Besides, Scotland's Teenage Fanclub's "Bandwagonesque" is the greatest grunge album ever made. "Nevermind"'s importance cannot be overstated, but people have just got to quit looking for sprinkles of Kurt's ashes every time they need a dose of credible/commercial appeal. I really can't come up with a good explanation for this arrogance, and I'm above trotting out top-of-my-head theories about trying to take the attention away from cooler-than-cool London after the 60's by creating a smear campaign to discredit British bands once glam became huge in the early 70's by preying on the homophobic tendencies of American rock fans.

Yeah, Menswear, oops, I mean Menswe@r, were embarrassing, and are deservedly the butt of Britpop jokes just like Northside are the butt of Madchester jokes. But everybody knew they were fourth-rate Britpop, and those who didn't know clued into it after about three months. It's a ridiculous mischaracterization to point to Menswe@r and say, "see, we told you Britpop sucked". That's like pointing at Vanilla Ice and saying "see, I knew that rap sucked", or pointing at O-Town and saying, "see, I told you that all boy bands suck and are nothing but fads". OK, they do all suck and are nothing but fads, but you see the point.

Adorable jokes have been making the rounds for ten years, mainly in British music press circles. Why people continue to besmirch their good name, I don't know, I've never understood it. They were hyped to ridiculous proportions, and it can be fun to knock a band down after that. (as an aside, I'm currently reading "The Creation Records Story", by David Cavanaugh, and I'm quite curious to hear what he and Alan McGee have to say about Adorable). They were caught between two trends, the shoegazing/grunge explosion on one hand, and whimsical Britpop on the other. Being on that bubble is just the best place to be if you want to be forgotten way out of proportion with your talent (see: Carter USM). And generally, 1992-3 were crappy years for music, particularly British music. Those years aren't remembered fondly these days anyway.

But Adorable had some wicked songs, a strong debut album (albeit a Verve release, see November 2001 for the definition), a good comeback single in 1994, big mouths, and were signed to one of the best labels in Britain. Radiohead took "Sunshine Smile", pumped it full of copycat American angst, retitled it "Creep" and had a big hit. Oasis took the attitude and aloofness and became megastars.

Zwan are charging thirty six dollars for their upcoming gig at Kool Haus. Huh? Sure, one of their guitarists used to play in a rather famous American guitar band during the 1990's (David Pajo, ex-Slint), but thirty six dollars? Are these guys in the band because they want a fresh start from their previous bands, or are they a supergroup? Because only a supergroup would charge thirty six bucks for that venue in their genre of music. Supergroup or not, that's a hell of a lot of money to pay for watching rock and roll in a big shoebox. Even if Kevin Shields became a touring member of Godspeed, I'd balk at the notion of shelling out thirty six dollars to stand in a hangar with iffy acoustics to watch them.

I'd still go, of course, the balking would only be temporary.

I recently saw two music-centred movies, "8 Mile" and "24 Hour Party People". In both cases, I got a lot of the film that I expected to get from the other movie. First off, I thought "8 Mile" would centre on working class people whose lives revolved around the music. And it does, but there's another primary character whose role I hadn't expected would be so prominent. Detroit. More than anything else, this movie is about scenery. It's the disgusting slums of Detroit, with the crumbling houses, disintegrating trailer parks, and the streets choked with graffiti that drive the characters to do what they do -- find a way out. The film graphically demonstrates that the battles may be about rapping, but they're no game. Succeeding in battles is an act of desperation. It's either win, or be resigned to walking down those ugly streets for the rest of your life. Win, and maybe get the hell out of your crappy life, or live in Detroit forever.

"24 Hour Party People" seems to employ a cast of thousands. For two hours, musicians, producers, and various Mancunians punters swirl in and out of the film, which is certain to confuse any viewer who isn't familiar with any of the history or the music. With only one lead character -- Steve Coogan's awesome portrayal of impresario Tony Wilson right down to the intonations in his voice -- I figured the cohesive force would be Manchester itself. The on-site filming, the factories (no pun intended), a painstakingly recreated set of the legendary Hacienda, these would be present in lieu of prominent supporting characters. But again I was wrong. This is first and foremost a film about music (Coogan bluntly says so in the film) and about the people who made it. There are clips, flashbacks, snippets of important happenings from Manchester past, and very little focus on the city itself other than being repeatedly told how important their music scene was. And if Coogan hadn't said so, or if you weren't into the scene back in the day and could therefore vouch for the accuracy of these boasts, you would never believe it to be true, since how could such incredible music history have come together when everyone streaks around completely wasted most of the time acting like assholes? Well, that's exactly what DID happen, despite the lack of any and all good business sense. That is the whole point, after all.

On a completely different note, I want to comment on the historical accuracy of the film. As for the timeline, I was completely lost for most of the movie. They'd play a song, I'd ground myself by recalling what year we must be in based on the song, but invariably the next scene would be something that I could swear had happened a year earlier or later, the next scene would jump another few months one way or another ... none of this bothered me too much, since it just adds to the overall chaotic tone of the film. Then there's the scores of little things they nailed down. Joy Division were playing "Love Will Tear Us Apart" onstage at one point, and the recreation was unreal. Far beyond dressing up "Barney" in his white shirt and skinny dark tie that he wore onstage throughout that time period, "Ian"'s guitar looked PRECISELY like the one the real Ian played in the video, and it was even HELD the same way that Ian held it (another side comment: "Ian" did well to clone Ian's dancing mannerisms, but some of the intensity I felt was misplaced. "His" gripping the mic with veins bulging was a shade too much Henry Rollins for me). But the version of the song that was being played was the remixed single version (the one on "Substance"), which was put out after Ian died and was never played live! That happened a fair number of times -- they'd get a whole load of little details exactly right but miss out on one or two other little things.

All the nitpicking is admittedly a bit of overkill. This film is fun fun FUN and the incredible character and setting recreations are plenty enough to almost make you feel as if you were there ... a wonderful fantasy for those of us born on the wrong side of the pond.

This past Monday, I finished listening to my latest California CD haul. I got through all 29 in just 17 days, compared to a month for 37 CD's last time around. So I'm improving. Progress IS attainable, kids, and you've gotta start somewhere. Some hard-to-find nuggets and highlights:

First, I have to confess, that I actually came back with 30 CD's, #30 is a CD I already own, but it's the glow-in-the-dark limited edition of Spiritualized's "Pure Phase". I could have had a great deal on it in Feb 1995, when the owner of the now-defunct CD Bar on Yonge made me a great offer. I ended up buying the regular CD on import, but the day-glo one would have cost me a measly five bucks more and I passed on it. I figured I'd been spending enough money as of late and needed to cut down a bit. I never, ever forgave myself for that decision, and since then I've gone out of my way to lean on the side of "buy" every time I'm confronted with similarly structured decisions involving hard-to-find music.

Hey, do you miss the days when Stereolab weren't trying to write futuristic pop, the days when all their songs contained only two chords? I do too. Flowchart's "Multi-Personality Tabletop Vacation" misses those days as well. Although, when the album was released in 1995 those days weren't such distant memories. But today, it's a rollicking trip down memory lane with a fat colourful photo album. This album sounds more like Stereolab than any album has ever sounded like any band, ever. The resemblance is so strong, it's scary, and it's also lovely. They could re-release it as a synthetic music product called "I Can't Believe It's Not Stereolab!".

One of my goals was to buy some experimental music (i.e. noise, minimalism, etc.). For whatever reason, the inventory and prices on the West Coast are unbelievable for this music. I returned with stuff by Kevin Drumm, Pure (from the Mego label), and Brighter Death Now, to name a few. I also scored Tony Conrad's "Early Minimalism Volume One" box set, which is totally THE psychedelic shizznit. Just listen to those drones for half an hour and try to deny that it's one fine drug, I dare you. This made me clamour for my early Spacemen 3 CD's. A thoroughly cleansing, inspirational, three and a half hour experience. I was droning away on my sampler in a matter of minutes, just by sampling as I cooed into a microphone.

Acid Mothers Temple released 5973 records last year, and I've begun the catch-up process with their take on Terry Riley's "In C". The melodies are carried almost entirely by the keyboard, and fifteen minutes in, with the robo-chug overwhelming the track, I completely forgot what I was supposed to listening to. That's a compliment. The other two tracks, In E and In D, are amphetamine fueled noise-rock and blissed-out shimmering drones. I find that it's impossible to get bored of this kind of stuff.

I caught the new Zwan video this morning. The title couldn't have summed up my reaction any better. "Honestly", Billy, who do you think you're fooling? A female bassist, singing backup vocals no less, a guitarist with straight shoulder length hair framing his pouting face, Jimmy Chamberlain on drums ... three guesses which defunct band this reminded me of. No, Billy's goatee does not count as a novel artistic development. Respect for the three guitars, but he's transparently dumped the old band for a new band of people that must hate him less and picked up where his old band left off.

The Grammy nominees were announced. Yippie. Nothing like the granddaddy of useless awards shows to make for some quality ranting.

Grammy can talk all it wants about how there's not one artist that ran away with the nominations, or how this years' field is more wide open than ever. Screw that. Does anyone doubt for one second that Bruce Springsteen will win all the important awards? It's the "Steely Dan" factor from a couple of years back. Grammy NEVER goes out on a limb -- hell, they won't even climb the damned tree -- unless there's a complete dearth of decent nominees (call that the "Alanis" factor). Alan Jackson and the Boss will clean up, because it's ALWAYS the Alan Jacksons and Bosses that clean up at the Grammys. Rather than pick the best music, you can just eliminate all the stuff that you know won't have a chance, and pick the winners that way. Let's play the process of elimination game right now.

Record of the Year. This can actually be difficult to predict, mostly because nobody even knows what the record of the year even means in an age of mainly singer-songwriters. I'll say the blandest record will get it, so that leaves Vanessa Carleton and Norah Jones. I mean bland as opposed to edgy -- "Don't Know Why" is a wonderful song, but it's really easy on the ears which will please all the voters whose tastes haven't progressed beyond Natalie Cole in the last decade. But Norah Jones will probably win Best Newcomer, so her votes will be split across the other categories, so I'll pick Vanessa Carlton here.

Album + Song of the Year. Just engrave Bruce's name on the trophy right now. Alan Jackson is the sleeper pick for Song. Grammy is always 18 months behind the times due to their asinine eligibility period, so they haven't had the opportunity to memorialize 9/11 yet, so they'll do it here.

Rock Album. Bruce again, but many voters will still have a soft spot for Sheryl Crow. Although I don't believe Robert Plant has ever won a Grammy, if so, they may pull out a corollary of the Steely Dan factor and give it to him even though roughly 0.0001 % of American human beings are even aware that he put a record out.

Rap Album. This could be interesting, since there aren't any Fresh Prince - style embarrassments for Grammy to cheese out with. I've never heard of Petey Pablo, so I think I'll pick him. But this could also be the year they pick Eminem, since he's a movie star now and everything, so some of the voters might assume this means he's safe for children.

I'd also be remiss if I didn't blast Grammy for citing the soft and safe "Dilemma" featuring grizzled rapper plus cute female armpiece, instead of the REAL Record of the Year, "Hot in Herre". Grammy absolutely loves duets, and this lets them say they've given appropriate recognition to R&B artists. Besides the infinitely higher sweatyumphbumpandgrindfactor, I'd be willing to bet that way more kids downloaded "Hot In Herre" than "Dilemma", and we CERTAINLY don't want to be promoting file sharing or anything.