Pretty Cool For A Bunch Of Mimes: The Swim Army Reviews KISS

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Logo by Elias Amini, collage by moipk

My sprawling music taste is how I got into writing like this in the first place, but one band I still find myself constantly having to defend is KISS. I don’t support everything they’ve done, and I cannot stand behind every choice of notorious bandleaders Paul Stanley and Gene Simmons, but I will say that even 50+ years on, they are still unfairly dismissed. 

If you want to quickly realize just how important KISS is, look no further than the tributes Ace Frehley garnered when he passed away. Every rock guitarist made a point to recognize him, more so than even Eddie Van Halen, whose band’s first record wouldn’t even come out until five years into KISS’ career. Finding an entry point for KISS can be hard if you only know their worst qualities, so I did my best to rally the Swim Team, ask for their favorite bands, and see if I could find a connection to the Hottest Band in the Land. Much like with KISS… results may vary.

– Logan Archer Mounts

Your Name: aly

Your Favorite Band: Animal Collective

Logan’s KISS Pick: “My Way”

Logan’s Notes: The only thing I know about Animal Collective is their use of keyboards, so here’s the most keyboard-heavy song KISS ever put out, for better or for worse.

Your Review: I’ve written in these very pages about how much I detest the shit clowns in Kiss (stylized as “KISS,” if you’re on Medicare), and you have the audacity to make me listen to their fourth album post-makeup-removal? You’re telling me they spent the late ‘80s making Simple Minds-ass, Wang Chung-ass swill? “My Way” shares too much with lowest-common-denominator radio run-off to be despicable, and that is its true offense. 

The fact that career-low-point Kiss isn’t even a total trainwreck is sublime failure. How dare you make me listen to this just because “aNiMaL CoLLeCtiVe hAs kEyBoArDs.” Gonna strap Gene and Paul in the Punishment Chairs and make them listen to “Floridada” until they beg to be euthanized.

Your Name: Josh

Your Favorite Band: The Replacements

Logan’s KISS Pick: “Tomorrow”

Logan’s Notes: It’s well-known that The Replacements’ expertly sloppy “Black Diamond” cover from Let It Be is a highlight of their catalog. Too obvious to pick the original, so here’s a single from KISS’ underrated power pop masterpiece, Unmasked.

Your Review: I can’t tell if I like this. I think I kind of do? Half of the times I listened to it, I immediately zoned out and then woke up at the end, but when I really forced myself to focus, it wasn’t half bad. It’s kind of an empty-calories thing: externally, there’s a ton going on that’s really in my wheelhouse, but something’s missing at the song’s core, and because of that, it struggled to hold my attention. To make great power pop, I think an artist needs to convincingly portray themselves as pure at heart, and that’s a mighty tall order for Paul Stanley. I can’t deny he writes a killer hook; he’s just better when he’s grimy, like on “Strutter.” Now that’s a great song.

Your Name: Britta

Your Favorite Band: Pile

Logan’s KISS Pick: “Mr. Blackwell”

Logan’s Notes: Gene Simmons does not get enough shine for his bass playing, probably because he’s being criticized for most of the right reasons about everything else. But for fans of bass-driven post-punk bands like Pile, “Mr. Blackwell” from KISS’ prog foray (Music From) The Elder is a classic Demon track.

Your Review: It was really, really brave of Logan to assign me “Mr. Blackwell,” considering that the opening bass notes actually just sound like farts with reverb. (And they sound like that for the entire song, by the way.) In no universe do the satisfying bass lines of Pile’s music in songs like “Firewood” and “Grunt Like a Pig” deserve to be paired with KISS. What the heck is happening in the latter half of the song? Clicks, muffled vocals, and ghastly sound effects arise like a bloated ghoul (Gene, is that you?) only to cease as suddenly as they appeared. I was relieved when it was over, which is the sole thing that I appreciated about this track: it has an end. 

Your Name: Braden

Your Favorite Band: The Brave Little Abacus

Logan’s KISS Pick: “No No No”

Logan’s Notes: The shreddiness, complexity, and energy of emo bands like The Brave Little Abacus seem far away from KISS’ hair metal days, but “No No No” from 1987’s Crazy Nights is a comparable feat of speed and frenzy.

Your Review: You could train 100 LLMs, make agents bicker until their GPUs need a smoke break, and they’d still never come up with “Actually, if you like Brave Little Abacus, you’d like this.” This is the type of recommendation—reach, comparison, whatever—that only a human could make; no, that only Logan could make. And the fucked up thing is he’s so right. The lyrics are… crazy, but the energy is incredible, and the shredding melted my face. Two comparably energetic sections are the opening of BLA’s “A Highway Got Paved Over My Future” and the beginning and end of “Bug Infested Floorboards.” If you put those sounds next to each other, it’s not much of a stretch at all.

It’s notable that this album is from the unmasked portion of KISS’s career, and BLA’s first album is “Masked Dancers.” What’s more remarkable, actually, is the rock ballad “Reason to Live,” with a pointed message that you can’t live your life for someone else, almost exactly the same as BLA’s “Can’t Run Away.” I think what I’m saying is that Logan made me realize that KISS might actually be emo?

Your Name: Taylor

Your Favorite Band: The Wonder Years, Sufjan Stevens, Yo La Tengo (take ya pick)

Logan’s KISS Pick: “Dark Light”

Logan’s Notes: Despite their loud guitars and big choruses, not much pop-punk to be found in the world of KISS, nor is there any orchestra or folk. They were always a bit too flashy to be alt-rock, but Ace Frehley’s “Dark Light” incorporates a bit of each rock subgenre of the day, which may align with Taylor’s picks.

Your Review: This feels like a safe space to admit that I am not only a KISS enjoyer, but that I had TWO posters of the band up on my wall through most of my young adulthood. That said, my knowledge and fandom of the band’s recorded music is basically limited to the 70s, aside from “Lick It Up,” so this is my first time hearing “Dark Light.” I’ll start with the positives: the guitar riff is punchy and sick, the solo fuckin’ rocks, and the chorus is kinda fun, but this does sound like theater kid Halloween music. RIP to Ace, but I don’t think his vocals are doing it for me here.

Your Name: Ciara

Your Favorite Band: Coheed and Cambria

Logan’s KISS Pick: “I”

Logan’s Notes: I didn’t go into this article intending to recommend a ton of tracks from the infamous (Music From) The Elder, but the anthemic rallying cries of Coheed songs ring true in the album’s closing moments of “I.” And it’s certainly better than Coheed’s “Love Gun” cover.

Your Review: The most KISS I've ever ingested was probably playing the “Hotter Than Hell” bonus level in Tony Hawk’s Underground as a child, which featured the band’s smash hit “Rock And Roll All Nite” on an endless loop. That was the most of the band I ever wished to be subjected to, but we all love Logan here at Swim Into The Sound, and I love a writing exercise. I also had a feeling the next biggest Coheed fan to me in our little family wouldn't steer me wrong. 

Coheed fans know that big, anthemic 80s rock isn't a far stone's throw from the band, as their discography shows. “I” by KISS hits with a simple structure and powerful rhythm section that's easy to lose yourself in, but it eventually unfolds into the ethereal final moments of the album Music From “The Elder.” I was admittedly delighted to see the last lyrics on the track referencing “Rock And Roll All Nite,” which begs comparison to Coheed singer Claudio Sanchez's love for callbacks and referential lyrics. Strings swell and brass blares as characters dialogue with one another to close out the track, which would also feel right at home on most Coheed albums. A fun track, though I can't say this converted me to a KISS fan, sorry Logan. Happy birthday, bud! <3

Your Name: Caro

Your Favorite Band: Drive-By Truckers

Logan’s KISS Pick: “Mistake”

Logan’s Notes: Recently unearthed as an outtake on the Dressed to Kill box set, “Mistake” is an odd country ballad that sounds nothing like the down-and-dirty sound of the landmark album it was recorded for.

Your Review: I feel like I can’t shittalk this because it feels anti-DBT to shittalk KISS. The Truckers are believers in rock and roll, and who am I to say that some rock song from the hallowed 1970s sucks? Luckily, I only feel like I can’t shittalk and don’t actually care about if I do it or not.

This song is so close to rocking, but Stanley et. al. just can’t commit. I can’t even tell if they had fun making this or if the whole time they were like, ‘what are we doing…we can’t make dusty country sounds…’ If anything, I feel like this song predicted MTV 90s alt-pop, like the Lemonheads or Julianna Hatfield, rather than anything truly country-rock adjacent.

Fell In Love With a Guac: Making Jack White’s Guacamole Recipe

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A couple of months ago, emo band Michael Cera Palin made a jokey post about Pavement's hospitality rider on Twitter, and the internet rightfully couldn’t put it down. Between the quantity and the specificity of the items listed, the jokes practically wrote themselves. “forty-eight cold bottles of premium domestic beer,” hell yeah, brother. A couple of entries later, they list “two bottles of premium red wine” with a parenthetical that specifies “(nothing under $10.00 retail, PLEASE).” These guys know their stuff. 

Something else I love about Pavement’s rider is that there’s an abundance of emphasis, with some words in bold and others in ALL CAPS, lending the whole list a sort of manic Christopher Walken tone. You can practically envision the band members bouncing ideas off each other as they had a stoned brainstorm, throwing “5 cups assorted yogurt” next to “one jar chunky natural peanut butter.” The whole document is a rich text that you could spend hours parsing through and picking out individually hilarious items. Spicy V8? Why? “Authentic” pita bread? What’s the alternative? Four nine-volt batteries (Energizer)? I guess it’s nice to know where their brand affinity lies.

This came hot on the heels of a wider discussion about how bands eat on tour, sparked by a snippy comment leveled at indie rockers Thank You, I’m Sorry. For days on end, internet commentators and armchair analysts filled my feed with criticisms, jokes, and accusations, all levied at bands with less than 100k monthly listeners on Spotify. The whole thing reeked of the (surprisingly pervasive) anti-artist stance that musicians should expect to be miserable on the road if they expect to break even on a tour.

However, one good thing to come from this was a rider posted by Charly Bliss containing Jack White’s tour rider. The list even starts out funny, with its first entry being “6 x cans of  Coke Zero.” Okay, skinnyyyy. The second entry moves from beverages to food as they ask for “1 dozen chicken wings” with a fun note specifying “(buffalo, teriyaki, surprise us).” Alright, these guys know how to have fun. One line later, we get to the main event, “1 bowl FRESH HOME-MADE GUACAMOLE,” with a note that there’s a recipe below. The recipe, which I’ll transcribe here in full, is a seven-ingredient, multi-step process that I can only imagine a put-upon venue employee begrudgingly whipping up. I knew I had to try it. 

Jack White's Guacamole Recipe

Ingredients

  • 8 x large, ripe Haas avocados (cut in half the long way, remove the pit–SAVE THE PITS THOUGH–, and dice into large cubes with a butter knife. 3 or 4 slits down, 3 or 4 across. You’ll scoop out the chunks with a spoon, careful to maintain the avocado in fairly large chunks. 

  • 4 x vine-ripened tomatoes (diced)

  • ½ yellow onion (finely chopped)

  • 1 x full bunch cilantro (chopped)

  • 4 x Serrano peppers (de-veined and chopped)

  • 1 x lime

  • Salt & pepper to taste

Steps

Mix all ingredients in a large bowl, careful not to mush the avocados too much. We want it chunky. Once properly mixed and tested, add the pits into the guacamole and even out the top with a spoon or spatula. Add ½ lime to the top layer so you cover most of the surface with the juice. (The pits and lime will keep it from browning prematurely.) Cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate until served. Please don’t make it too early before it’s served. We’d love to have it around 5 pm.

Sunday, May 26th, 2024.

It’s Memorial Day weekend, and I have four days off work. Summer is right around the corner, and love is in the air… wait, that’s just a combination of Tecate and tequila. It’s already been hot enough in North Carolina that it’s felt like summer to my Pacific Northwest ass for months; even still, I’m not one to look a gift horse (long weekend) in the mouth. After a few days of kicking back and celebrating, spirits were high, and I was getting tired of BBQ food, so I decided it was finally time to pull the trigger on Jack White’s Guacamole Recipe. 

My girlfriend and I hit up our local Harris Teeter to acquire all the fresh produce necessary to feed the man who wrote “Seven Nation Army.” Turns out eight Haas avocados are more expensive than I expected. As I was staring down the 30-ish dollar total, my girlfriend joked, “This is why Millennials will never be homeowners,” and I couldn’t disagree. 

It also turns out that eight Haas avocados make a lot of guacamole. I realized this as I was rinsing the tomatoes and peppers in the sink and looked over to see my girlfriend cutting each avocado in half, seemingly doubling the amount instantaneously. She suggested halving the recipe at one point, but I was determined to make this guac in Jack White’s image, to a tee, exactly as he instructed on the rider. I would have nothing less than perfection.

Believe it or not, I’ve actually written my fair share of recipes for my job. I don’t talk about my profession here often, but it’s wild how much of 2020 and 2021 I spent wordsmithing recipes for Starbucks while everyone was trapped at home and craving their cafe fix. If you ever wanted to know how to make a Cereal Milk Coffee or a Caffè Mocha, I got you. As such, I feel like I am uniquely qualified to comment on this recipe. 

As we dug into the instructions, this mostly seemed like prep, which was a relief. Whenever a recipe says, “Mix all ingredients in a large bowl,” it’s like skipping straight to the fun part. So we got cleaning and cutting and started dumping everything into a large bowl. 

In terms of the actual recipe and instructions, it’s entertaining how much personality comes through the writing here. The line “SAVE THE PITS THOUGH,” typed in all-caps, is very urgent and funny. That phrase became a bit of a verbal tick as we were prepping the guac, akin to “save the whales” or a motto that an armpit fetishist would champion. Elsewhere, specifying to slice the avocado in “3 or 4 slits” seems like a funny detail, though it seems to be in service of consistency. The band specifies at multiple points that “We want it chunky,” which reads pretty sassy, and I have no choice but to respect it.

I deveined the serrano peppers, diced the tomatoes, and quickly started to note the mounting pounds of guacamole filling up our bowl. I asked my girlfriend to invite some friends over because I could quickly tell that we would not make so much as a dent in this guacamole if it were just the two of us. I did the same, and we soon had a group of six ready to dig into Jack White’s recipe.

The final touch was “salt & pepper to taste,” to which my girlfriend questioned, “to who’s taste?” and quickly decided that the answer was Jack White himself. We tried our best to channel our inner pale Detroiter, imagining what the palate of the man who wrote Blunderbuss could possibly entail. We salted, peppered, and made a round of margs to accompany the main event. We set everything on the table and dug in.

So, at this point, I bet you’re wondering how it was. What did Jack White’s Guacamole taste like? Turns out… kinda bland. We were eating with a group of people mainly from the south, but even to my Pacific Northwestern ass, the guac tasted pretty unremarkable. If I’m making guac, I usually use Jalapeno peppers, so the serranos were a nice twist but not enough. 

Ultimately, the group deemed the guac “easy to fix,” and we improvised a bit by adding some more lime juice, additional salt, and four or five cloves of chopped-up garlic. We wondered why this recipe didn’t call for any garlic at all, which feels like a pretty standard ingredient for most guacs, and collectively agreed that Jack White is not beating the vampire allegations. After incorporating all of those additions, we were cooking with gas and everyone happily chowed down on our new and improved Jack White Guac. 

It felt a little bad to permute Mr. White’s recipe in such a direct way; after all, you wouldn’t go in and add another guitar to “Salute Your Solution,” would you? But the way I see it, we technically made it faithfully first before perverting it into something that tasted better, so I felt like we still achieved our initial goal.

All in all, Jack White’s Guacamole was a hit once we added a bit more zap to it. The recipe makes a lot, but it’s also for a touring group of musicians, so that makes sense. Does his culinary instincts match up to his musical brilliance? Not quite, but that’s okay; I’ll take Elephant over a middle-of-the-road guacamole any day.

Swim Into The Sound's Favorite Stoner Rock Songs

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4/20 is a dumb holiday. It’s not even a holiday — it’s an excuse for teenagers and college kids to spend the day stoned and making dumb jokes while consuming an inhuman amount of Little Debbie snack cakes, Arnold Palmer, and Wendy’s… At least, that’s how I’ve spent my fair share of April 20ths. 

Sure, it’s fun to have a weed-based holiday, especially as the drug becomes more widely accepted both societally and legally. While the federal government still classifies marijuana as a Schedule I drug, public notion has taken a hard turn the other way over the last decade. As of April 20th, 2023, exactly 38 states, three territories, and the District of Columbia all allow for the medical use of cannabis products, while recreational marijuana is currently legal in 24 states — almost half the country. 

And yet, something doesn’t feel quite right. 

While it’s been affirming to watch public opinion shift on marijuana, I can’t help but feel like it’s a bit of a hollow victory. Yeah, it’s great that I can go and buy edibles from a drive-thru window in Denver. Sure, it’s sick that I can walk into a cafe in Chicago and buy a weed-infused lemonade. Of course, it’s awesome that I can visit New York and stop at a place called “Granny Za’s” and spend $10 on the most wack pre-roll I’ve ever smoked. It’s all there, and yet, there’s an elephant in the room in the form of our nation’s prison system. 

In reality, what this day should be about is abolition. We should continue to use 4/20 as a day to celebrate weed — I don’t want to take that away from anyone — but we should also use this as a day to talk about the unjust drug laws in this country and the ways that our government has wielded policies that acutely target people of color and those living below the poverty line, all for something that doesn’t harm anyone. 

For every sleek new dispensary that pops up in one of these newly decriminalized states, there are dozens, if not hundreds of people who have been locked up and held away from society for possessing things that you now can buy from the gas station around the corner.

I’m not even talking about just weed; harder drugs are part of this conversation, too. I know I’m not the most qualified person to speak on this, but I just want to make my position clear: fuck every prison, fuck every cop, and free everyone whose lives have been ruined by our unjust prison system. Fuck Richard Nixon, fuck the war on drugs, and fuck you if you don’t have any compassion for people struggling with substances. 

For a more articulate and decidedly less vulgar articulation on these topics, I recommend everyone read Are Prisons Obsolete? by Angela Davis. It’s available, in full, as a PDF here, so you really have no excuse not to sit down and read about the incredibly prejudiced system we’ve all come to accept as part of our societal fabric. Once you notice it, you can’t stop. A better future is possible, but if we’re going to work towards that collective future, it begins with understanding what we’re up against. 

To pivot back to music and back to this blog’s usually scheduled silliness, today we have a fun roundup celebrating Stoner Rock. Yes, Stoner Rock: the least serious, most embarrassing, and also most badass genre of music ever. It seems like the most appropriate way for us to celebrate the music, the culture, and where those two things intersect. Now, I only hope my team of writers understand the assignment. 

Kyuss – “One Inch Man”

Elektra/Asylum Records

I was (unfortunately) predisposed to love stoner rock from the jump. Once I discovered Paranoid in middle school, my fate was sealed. By the time I had gotten into Queens of the Stone Age in my early teenage years, there was no going back. Then-current groups like The Sword and Wolfmother set the stage for me to dig into older bands like Sleep, Fu Manchu, Asteroid, and Truckfighters.

My first real stoner rock phase came in college, ironically after I had consciously decided to stop smoking weed. I wound my way back through Josh Homme’s discography through the early days of Queens, past the meandering collaboration of The Desert Sessions, and all the way to Kyuss. In that band, I found albums full of the grooviest riffs and nastiest, most lip-curling guitar tones I had ever heard. While I enjoyed each of the band’s albums about equally, something kept drawing me back to … And The Circus Leaves Town. While “Hurricane” kicks the record off with some head-bobbing drums and sputtery guitar, “One Inch Man” gradually revealed itself to me as my Kyuss song. The three-minute track begins with a guitar lick I can only categorize as peak. The drums kick in, and almost instantly, everything clicks into place. It’s a grungy and cocky track that could easily soundtrack a smoke sesh, but also feels active and upright enough that you could strut down the street and feel like the coolest person alive with this blaring in your headphones. 

Taylor Grimes - @GeorgeTaylorG


Clutch – “Big News”

EastWest

As the resident Swim Into The Sound edgeman (which I have not confirmed but have yet to be corrected), you may think I am the least qualified to talk about stoner rock. However, as a young hesher, I discovered music in this genre before I even knew what to call it. “Freya” by The Sword being featured on Guitar Hero II was the first stone, if I may, and then came Clutch. I had first seen them as a featured artist on Viva La Bam, but my first time connecting with their music was when I heard “Electric Worry” on Comcast’s MusicChoice TV. When their next album, Strange Cousins From The West, was released in 2009, I bought the CD at Borders and told the cashier it was “blues metal.” He said that didn’t sound very crazy, as we all know, most rock music is rooted in the blues, and Robert Johnson supposedly selling his soul to the devil is about as metal as it gets. 

From then on, I became obsessed with the thick guitar tones and slow pace of doom, sludge, and stoner metal. Before I made it to the eighth grade, I was regularly listening to Crowbar, Eyehategod, and Karma To Burn. I started my first stoner metal-influenced band in high school, and then another one in college. Sadly, both of them were very short-lived, but my love for the riff persisted. For fifteen years now, Clutch has always been my favorite band of the style. They are absolutely the perfect American rock band to me. Unbeatable drum grooves from Jean-Paul Gastier, locked-in basslines from Dan Maines, all-time tasteful riffage from Tim Sult, and iconic lyrics and vocals from Neil Fallon. Clutch is on tour this year for the 30th anniversary of their debut album Transnational Speedway League: Anthems, Anecdotes And Undeniable Truths — what I believe to actually be the best DC hardcore record of the ‘90s. That album preceded their landmark 1995 self-titled LP, bridging the gap between their dirgy, riff-based hardcore and the oddball stoner rock they’d come to perfect. Many songs from the album are still Clutch live staples to this day, like the epic interstellar cruise anthem “Spacegrass,” and my personal favorites, the one-two opening punches of “Big News I” and “Big News II.” Everything about this suite remains exciting to me no matter how many times I listen to it. One thing I love about Cutch is that I have zero fucking idea what Neil Fallon is singing about half the time. He is a storyteller in every sense of the word, and with the exception of their earliest tracks, I’m not certain he reflects on his own experiences much in his lyrics (or he’s extremely talented at masking them with fictional characters or deep-cut historical references). 

“Big News I” begins the story of an old, raucous pirate ship on its way down with “Dutchmen on the mizzen mast, six harpies are singing to the lee” and “fifteen men on a dead man’s chest, yo ho ho and a bottle of rye.” Musically, it’s got everything Clutch are experts at: a funky ass drum line, a killer bass lead, fuzz-toned guitars over the bass lead, and the expressive vocal style that only Neil Fallon can do. The way it moves between the swirling verses and aggressive choruses is dynamite, and when it transitions to the bit more aggressive second chapter, it’s absolutely seamless. “Big News II” comes in like a boat-busting iceberg, with the entire band kicking everything up a few notches. The line “fortune tellers make a killing nowadays” returns from “Part I,” and the way Neil screams it has made me want it as a tattoo for years. I mean, really, what other band could make shouting “A SAILOR’S LIFE FOR MEEEEEE!!!!!!” sound that badass? I’ve seen Clutch seven times, and I finally got to see them do these tracks at their most recent Chicago show. As an added bonus, they weaved in the fan hit “Cypress Grove” in the middle of the sequence, which made it all the more special. They are the absolute masters of their craft, from their very first 7” to 2022’s knockout LP Sunrise On Slaughter Beach. Okay, I’m gonna continue to not smoke weed and dial up my playlist of Bong, Bongripper, Bongzilla, and Weedeater.

Logan Archer Mounts - @VERTICALCOFFIN

Editor’s Note: Hell yeah to Clutch, but might need to cut this down a bit though, you have the longest entry, and you don’t even smoke weed.


Keith Jarrett - “Eyes of the Heart (Pt. 1 & 2)”

ECM Records

The last 4/20 I celebrated in earnest was 7 years ago. I flew from Evanston, IL, to Middletown, CT, to play a weekender all across Wesleyan with my old emo band. For the four of us, this meant an excuse to imbibe recklessly. (On our first night in town, someone procured a keg for our show at an off-campus art gallery, and we got so drunk our drummer Zach passed out behind the kit mid-set.) To cap off the run, the night after our last gig, we divvied up some mushrooms scrounged from dresser drawers and turned off all the lights; as the resident jazz guy, I was tasked to “play something crazy.” I threw on Keith Jarrett’s Eyes of the Heart, which had been getting some burn in my headphones during stoned evening walks, and we let our enhanced imaginations draw shapes on the dark ceilings. Released on ECM as Jarrett was splitting time between their forward-looking ambient-adjacent jazz and relatively more traditional be-bop stylings on Impulse!, Eyes of the Heart received mixed reviews from critics. It may not hit the astral heights of The Köln Concert or Bremen/Lausanne, but it’s nigh-perfect stoner jazz. Jarrett’s wonky percussion experiments are reverent but still goofy, and the band is killer: Dewey Redman on tenor, Charlie Haden on bass, Paul Motian on drums. Haden’s loping bass riff grounds the band’s forays into more spiritual territory before they drop, leaving Jarrett to the improvisations that characterized his work on ECM in the 70s. Unfortunately for our burgeoning buzz, someone’s sober-ish roommate decided to noodle along to the music on an acoustic guitar, Tallest Man on Earth-style; we tried to stare daggers at him, but I’d be surprised if anybody pulled off more than perplexed anguish. Within a year, I’d mostly give up weed for good. Legalize it, free anybody locked up for it, then let them get the first crack at making money off of it. For what it’s worth, I still roll one hell of a joint. 

Jason Sloan - @slaysonjones 

Editor’s Note: Stoner Rock—ROCK—as in “rock and roll music,” not jazz. Come on.


Washed Out – “Paracosm”

Sub Pop Records

This song sounds like flowers, man. What instruments do you know that sound like flowers? I heard this for the first time at the tender age of 14 and soon discovered that songs could be long, intricate, and serene. Somehow, in the first three seconds, I knew this was meant to be enjoyed as an experience, so I laid down on my basement’s rougher-than-shag carpet, put my noise-canceling headphones to full volume, closed my eyes, and just tried to breathe. At the time, I had no concept of drugs, but that didn’t stop me from trying to compare this experience with the stoner kids at lunch. I basically still don’t know what it means to get or be high, but I have to imagine the power scaling is something like this. With one cheeky puff, you instantly know the number of the nearest pizza place. Two bold quaffs, you can befriend anyone in a ten-mile radius wearing a tie-dye shirt, but you can only talk about Sublime for some reason. Finally, after three perhaps quite labored inhales of noisome smoke, I’m absolutely certain the imbiber is conferred the awesome ability to turn four-letter words into words of infinite length, one prime example being *ahem* “Duuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuude…”

Braden Allmond — @BradenAllmond

Editor’s Note: When it comes to weed, you get it. When it comes to this assignment, however, you don’t.


Sufjan Stevens – “Fourth of July”

Asthmatic Kitty 

Getting stoned can be a bit of a mixed bag for the highly anxious like myself. At the very best, I’m closing my eyes and gleefully reliving all the best moments of my life, such as my favorite concerts. At the very worst, I’m crying on the couch and thinking about how everyone I love is capable of dying at any time. Most times, I’m marrying the two extremes by watching the Carrie and Lowell concert film and getting really worried about Sufjan Stevens.

While Carrie and Lowell is far down the list of Sufjan’s most stoner-friendly music, it still encompasses everything my experience with edibles has been: sort of religious and mostly a bummer. If I had to choose a single song to be my 4/20 anthem, it would be his live version of “Fourth of July,” where he builds on the line “we’re all going to die” for several minutes. Or maybe it’s several hours. By that point of my whooping 5 mgs, it’s really all the same. 

Lindsay Fickas - @lindsayfickas

Editor’s Note: I love Sufjan as much as the next guy, but stoner rock? Come on, let’s be real.


Corey Feldman – “Go 4 It”

CIFI RECORDS

When smoking weed, you want to be transported to another galaxy, a place far, far away, not knowing what’s real or imitation. No one deserves to be your tour guide more than Corey Feldman and his techno classic “Go 4 It.” He should be the final boss in any weed excursion. The song itself is pure mayhem, with a Michael Myers-esque synth intro jump scaring you into a Skillrex-created-if-he-was-deaf dubstep beat. Still, the cherry on top is that the “Grand Marshall of Ganja” himself, Snoop Dogg, makes an appearance, most likely mailing in his verse via carrier pigeon. You must watch Corey Feldman’s epic Today Show performance, which will encompass all your senses and take you to a state of ecstasy like none other. He gyrates, twerks and is dressed as if Assassin’s Creed just joined a motorcycle gang. But, buyer beware, the Feldster is only for weed experts; you are one step away from entering heaven or trying to escape the depths of hell.

David Williams - @davidmwill89

Editor’s Note: What the hell is thiiiiiis?


David Crosby – “Traction in the Rain”

Atlantic Recording Corp.

I’m the first to say I’m no aficionado on the niches and intricacies of proper ‘stoner rock.’ But I’m also the first to say that I’m a bit of an aficionado of ‘60s and ‘70s rock, where the ‘stoner’ part of it all was just implied. Aside from (or because of?) the fact that I have a somewhat parasocial relationship with the late-’60s Laurel Canyon scene, my ‘stoner’ self seems to always want to vibe out to jangly guitars and all things Americana. I smoke to try to relieve (suppress?) anxiety, and this era of music—anything from The Stone Poneys to Strawberry Alarm Clock—is what I’ve found that does it for me. So sue me. 

Not to mention that it feels a little sacrilegious not to acknowledge the grandfather of all things stoner and rock on a day like 4/20. David Crosby’s If I Could Only Remember My Name is the quintessential stoner album, a full-body experience that is one of the most necessary 4/20 listens I can think of. On “Traction in the Rain,” Crosby’s vocals are just the right amount of haunting, with Laura Allen’s autoharp flashing against his almost whiny intonation. On those days when I’m feeling run down by the grind, I turn to Crosby, singing “Hard to find a way / To get through another city day / Without thinking about / Getting out,” and I know he’s got me. With glitters of vocals and acoustic from partner in crime Graham Nash, Crosby is at his most vulnerable on an already personally exposing album; wondering where time has gone while also attempting to look ahead. 

So this 4/20, I recommend you sit down, light a Croz-approved joint, maybe look at a sunset, and take a minute to reflect. 

Cassidy Sollazzo - @cassidynicolee_

Editor’s Note: David Crosby would wilt if he ever heard real stoner rock. Let’s step it up.


Tears for Fears – “Mad World”

Mercury

Upon one of my first investigations into the world of what the guy at the bodega insists is called “zaza,” I found myself in tears. The culprit wasn’t the totemic pilgrimage of Sleep’s Dopesmoker or some blissed-out desert riffs, but a pop song. All of my research indicated that this weed stuff was supposed to help you relax, man, especially when you were listening to the dulcet tones of England’s finest duo, Tears for Fears. 

The first verse of their 1983 hit “Mad World” set the scene for me to succumb in stoned sadness — “All around me are familiar faces / Worn-out places, worn-out faces.” Holy shit, that’s a bummer! The grindset has distorted every smiling face into heavy, tired grimness. Only four lines later, our narrator is ready to “drown his sorrow,” praying for “no tomorrow.” It’s been a while since Sunday school, but I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to be praying for that. 

However, the chorus is what really gets your goat and makes it weep. By the time Curt Smith sings the immortal lyrics, “And I find it kind of funny / I find it kind of sad / The dreams in which I’m dying / Are the best I’ve ever had,” my cheeks bore a greater resemblance to Niagara Falls than to someone’s face. How could a dream of shuffling off this mortal coil like a pair of geriatrics on the ship’s deck be better than any other? I can’t imagine Smith has had too many fond dreams if those are at the top of the oneirology pile.

In two slight verses and a hell of a refrain, the band lives up to their name: these are definitely Tears caused by my Fears. It is a testament to the song’s potency that it catalyzed immediate journalistic action. I raced downstairs, looking like a human Coldplay song, to inform my roommates of the music’s tragedy. Uncertain but in agreement, they nodded and affirmed that the song “was a downer” and that they “like the version in Donnie Darko more.” 

If you measure a song’s stoner rock-ness by how much emotion it can elicit, “Mad World” is the greatest stoner rock song of all time.

Aly Muilenburg - @purityolympics

Editor’s Note: I see you trying to work some logic in with that last line, but it’s not working for me, this still ain’t stoner rock.


Caveman – “Shut You Down”

Fat Possum Records

I learned I'm not a stoner at a Phosphorescent show in 2014. Phosphorescent is an indie folk act from Huntsville, Alabama, primarily helmed by singer Matthew Houk. They were supporting their album Muchacho at the time. I was really captivated by their song "Terror in the Canyons" and wanted to go see them when they came to Columbus, Ohio, but I couldn't talk any of my friends into coming with me, so I chose to go alone.

Reader, I did not succeed in seeing Phosphorescent on that evening in 2014. That is why my contribution to this article is not listed under “Phosphorescent - ‘Terror in the Canyons.’” Instead, I took an edible gifted to me by a bagboy with a penchant for floral maxi skirts at that den of excess and debauchery known as Whole Foods Market, where I worked at the time, and freaked the fuck out.

I did, however, see their opener, Caveman: nicely dressed white guys who make what I call “bathwater music.” Bathwater music consists of a lot of disparate subgenres that were popping off in the early 2010s: chillwave, dreampop, witch house, vaporwave, a lot of stuff mislabeled as shoegaze, lo-fi beats you can study to. Music that sounds like warm water washing over you. Guitars that sound like they’re coming from the bathroom down the hall with the shower running. Lyrics that… kind of make sense… but are more interested in creating an atmosphere than telling a story.

They opened with “Shut You Down,” from their second, self-titled album. The first note they struck my vision went kind of sepia tone (was I dosed by this bagboy? Did I live some Go Ask Alice bullshit? unclear), and that is a good way to describe the quality of this song. It’s nostalgic, but didn’t really sound like anything from a bygone era in 2014. It’s sad but calm and non-confrontational. The vocals are quiet and plaintive. It’s really the perfect kind of music for someone who’s so high he thinks he’s going to die, or be arrested, or both, and that’s why I stayed for their whole set. I did bolt as soon as they were done though. Sorry Phosphorescent; what could have been…

Brad Walker - @bradurdaynightlive

Editor’s Note: I don’t know what this is, but it ain’t stoker rock. Take this shit back to the cave, man.


Binaural Beats - Marijuana High |THC Beat| *Purple Haze* Digital Drug

We’ve evolved past the need for labels 

Okay enough of that brick weed music that these Salvia-sucking posers are rambling about. You want the dank shit? That Ricky Stanicky-icky? Then take a lungbusting hit of Binaural Beats - Marijuana High |THC Beat| *Purple Haze* Digital Drug. Look, anyone can smoke THC-P Moon Rocks, get a headache, and throw on some Tame Impala – but real heads know that the best Stoner Rock is a series of 420 HZ frequencies that make your brain think that it smoked weed. Because the only thing cooler than smoking weed is smoking digital weed through your ears. So don’t vacuum your carpet for several months, then sit on the floor, close your blinds, and blast this shit so loud that the neighbors get a contact high. Become ungovernable/very difficult to get a hold of when your family reaches out to you. (Pro Tip: while THC binaural beats are safe on their own, they can be a gateway to more destructive hertz. Make sure you check your binaurals for any Fentanyl frequencies).

Joshua Sullivan - @brotherheavenz

Editor’s Note: This is fucked up.


Counting Crows – “Accidentally In Love (as featured on the Shrek 2 Original Motion Picture Soundtrack)”

Dreamworks Records

When I was asked to come up with my favorite Stoner Rock piece of music for 4/20 I was a bit puzzled. As someone who has basically no knowledge of the genre, I thought to myself, “Is it a specific genre? Or is it simply any music to get stoned to?” Amid my confusion, I made the very wise choice of taking to Spotify and scrolling through playlist after playlist, both created by Spotify and users with various titles, including the words “Stoner Rock.” As I was doing my research, I noticed that the song “Accidentally In Love” by Counting Crows was featured on one of these playlists, which begged the question, “Is the Shrek 2 Soundtrack considered Stoner Rock?” The thing to know about me, dear reader, is that I absolutely adore Shrek 2, along with its perfectly curated list of accompanying songs for the film. It is quite literally the film of a generation and its soundtrack is simply one of many aspects that solidify it in the upper echelon of family-oriented animated media. I mean, what’s not to love about Shrek 2? It was a staggering artistic improvement from the original, and its animation still holds up to this day! Not to mention, you have an uproarious cast of voice talent, including the incomparable Tony Banderas! What other movie are you going to find a trumpeted version of the Hawaii Five-0 theme song as well as a stirring cover of “Holding Out For A Hero”? There’s no other movie like that! And the soundtrack version is done by Frou Frou, are you kidding me?? I love Imogen Heap so much, and many people only know her from that meme from the OC, but like I’m telling you, what a discography. That album that “Hide and Seek” is on is just flawless! And she inspired Ariana Grande? Incredible. Anyway, I wasn’t huge on Shrek 3 and never really watched Shrek 4, it just didn’t really appeal to me, you know? Anyway, I can’t remember what I was saying, but I need to take a break from writing so I can watch Shrek 2. 

Ciara Rhiannon - @rhiannon_comma

Editor’s Note: Look, I love Shrek 2 (and its soundtrack) as much as the next 30-year-old, but just because some stoner added it to a playlist on Spotify does not mean it’s eligible for this roundup.


Brava Spectre - “The Lioness Eye Tamed My Open Palm”

Self-Released

Noise rock and stoner rock are the same thing, right? Anyway, I popped an edible before sitting down to write this, and I think it’ll probably kick in at some point in the next hour or so, ‘tis the season and all. Anyway, Brava Spectre were a band from New London, Connecticut, inspired by the likes of Arab on Radar, Free Jazz, and The Mars Volta (amongst a plethora of others). They burned incredibly bright and hot before sputtering out as the band dissolved and morphed into other projects, most notably the addition of guitarist Stephen K. Buttery to The World Is A Beautiful Place and I Am No Longer Afraid To Die’s permanent lineup. Brava Spectre’s debut album, The Hands, The Water, The Hands That Occupy the Water, has a super trippy name, and when you say it out loud, it kind of tastes like colorful grainy monochrome, but the music is abrasive, controlled to the point of spiraling out and snapping, containing some borderline haunting melodies as well as some of the most evil riffs you will ever hear. “The Lioness Eye Tamed My Open Palm” is a fucking crazy title, man, like I wonder if these guys, oh holy shit, I wonder if the music is changing my molecular structure in some way, I mean, I’ve heard of vibrational patterns that can cause cells to react in different ways including cell regeneration or duplication. That reminds me of the single electron theory, I mean, what if our complex cell structure is actually fundamentally made up of a single electron that we all share and I think that's kind of beautiful, too, even if it's like really spooky.

Elias - @letsgetpivotal

Editors Note: This was supposed to be like 300 words, but they wrote 1900, so I deleted the majority of it since they started rambling about the holographic universe or some weird shit like that.

Swim Into The Sound Acquired by Condé Nast

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WILMINGTON, NC and NEW YORK, NY, Monday, April 1, 2024 

Condé Nast announced today its acquisition of Swim Into The Sound, the leading provider of emo album reviews, DIY music takes, and semi-professional write-ups. Swim Into The Sound will be the latest brand added to the company’s media portfolio, existing alongside relatively esteemed publications like Pitchfork, WIRED, and Gentleman’s Quarterly. As part of this transition, all of Swim Into The Sound’s content will be brought over to Bon Appétit due to a massive overlap in audience.

Founded by Taylor Grimes in 2015, Swim Into The Sound is a music blog focused on emo, punk, and independent music. Through in-depth and uniquely voiced reporting, the site dives into the culture and stories of the music industry, providing a distinct and authoritative point of view. 

Grimes will move to a senior position within Condé Nast as part of the acquisition, along with the small handful of writers who agreed to stay through the transition. On the acquisition, Condé Nast said today in a press release:

“Swim Into The Sound is one of the least-respected music publication brands and seamlessly complements Pitchfork and Ars Technica to create the premier group of leading editorial brands covering the emerging dork-emo music sector,” said Deborah Brett, Global Chief Business Officer of Condé Nast. “Swim Into The Sound’s unique and moderately engaged audience of music enthusiasts also creates new opportunities for our advertisers.”

When asked about the acquisition and whether or not this went against his blog’s stated ideals, Grimes had this to say from behind a pair of Balenciaga shades:

“Fuck y'all. I got my bag, I'm out! Have fun squabbling on Twitter, I’m going to go live on a man-made island off the coast of Mexico, see you in the funny papers!” He then proceeded to blow a puff of cigar smoke in our reporter’s face before cackling and peeling out of our parking lot in a 2024 McLaren 750S, adorned with a bumper sticker reading ‘eat my dust, jabronis.’

WHAT HATH FRENCH MONTANA WROUGHT?

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COKE BOYS RECORDS

French Montana is spamming his own Spotify page. 

Okay, folks, here are the facts. On Friday, February 23rd, 2024, French Montana Released a mixtape called Mac & Cheese 5. It’s a 21-song collection that clocks in at 60 minutes and zero seconds. Boom. One hour flat, how do you like that?

There are currently seven different versions of Mac & Cheese 5 on Spotify:

  1. Mac & Cheese 5, for the purist.

  2. Mac & Cheese 5 (Clean), for the family man.

  3. Mac & Cheese (Acapella), for the raw vocal performances.

  4. Mac & Cheese (Instrumental), for people who want the beats.

  5. Mac & Cheese (Slowed Down), for all your chopped n screwed needs.

  6. Mac & Cheese (Sped Up), for the ADHD-riddled TikTok youth.

  7. Mac & Cheese (Versions), which collects all of the aforementioned versions into one 126-track-long album.

So, in theory, one could click play on the (Versions) rendition of the album, and if you listened in order, you would hear each song in slightly different permutations six times in a row. First the OG version, then sped up, then slowed down, then the instrumental, then acapella, then the clean version. Here’s what that looks like. 

If you’re curious about the Time Math, that means this first three-and-a-half-minute song called “Dirty Bronx Intro” becomes a 21-minute experience when each version is stacked back to back. This all amounts to a 6 hour, two-minute runtime, a duration so gargantuan that the Spotify desktop app rounds down, not even bothering to give an exact time, instead opting to list the album as “about 6 hrs” long. It’s exhausting and amazing.

You know what’s even funnier than French Montana releasing a six-hour album packed with every possible iteration of every song? The fact that French Montana also released each of these one hundred and twenty-six songs as singles. Overnight, his artist page became a genuinely cumbersome experience to navigate, stretching the bounds of what the Spotify engineers ever considered plausible or sensible. 

It’s kind of hilarious to even try scrolling through Montana’s page right now. Especially when you factor in the features listed underneath each song, the whole thing just becomes a disorienting wash of metadata. One Twitter user jokingly asked, “Yo did French Montana drop?” accompanied by a screenshot featuring a 7 by 9 grid of repeating album art. And that’s only half. It’s quite hypnotizing to take in French Montana’s mug that many times, all cast in an identical green-red glow. 

Another Twitter user thought a video might be a more appropriate way to showcase the scope of Mac & Cheese 5 (Versions). They did the only logical thing and made a screen recording showing what it’s like to scroll through the entire thing, taking 18 seconds to reach the bottom.

One brave poster with the handle @Keegan59992745 took it upon himself to listen to the entire thing, leaving followers a harrowing message at the onset of his adventure, posting “See you guys in 6 hours and 2 minutes” along with a screenshot of the album page for context. Later that day, Keegan followed up, explaining that after seven hours (he had to take a break to eat), that was enough French Montana for the rest of his life. Montana may have gotten his 126 streams, but at what cost?

In general, people on Hip-hop Twitter and various message boards were quick to clown on this practice of turning a mid mixtape into something the length of a day shift or multiple Lord of the Rings movies. “All of this just to sell 43k first week,” snarked one person on Twitter. The top comment on the /r/hiphopheads thread for the album bluntly assesses, “This is so embarrassing 🤦.” Further down the same comment thread, one Redditor recognized Montana’s craven and transparent ploy for streams and hoped Spotify would take notice, stating, “That’s insane. This has to be a wake up call for something to change with streaming services. I had to see it for myself and it just ruined my night.”

Elsewhere, people were eager to point out how poorly this six-version format fits some songs. Maybe mankind wasn’t meant to hear an acapella version of French Montana’s trademarked “HAAAN” with such clarity. Others were quick to point out the absurdity of having this wealth of options available for something as inconsequential as a mid-album skit. It’s hard to look at “Skit (Sped Up),” “Skit (Slowed Down),” “Skit (Instrumental),” “Skit (Acapella)” and not find it all a little outrageous. 

In fact, let’s take a closer look at the skit on Mac & Cheese 5. Taking place at a train station, we hear 

Montana and an unnamed man reminisce on previous installments of the Mac & Cheese tapes. While the conversation starts centered around Montana and his music, the dialogue quickly devolves into a sexist triage against the unnamed man’s sister. Here’s an excerpt. 

Man, what've you been doin', cuz?
Man, I haven't seen you in about a decade, bro
On the Lamb' with your sister
Last time I saw you, workin' on that Mac & Cheese 3
Yeah, you know, my sister leaked it
No, she leaked Vol. 4, you fuckin' dummy
Well, she leaks everywhere, anywhere she goes
She leaks like a faucet
Yeah, someone's got to fix that up with a wrench
Last time I seen your sister was the zoo
Yeah?
Yeah, and she was over there bouncin' a ball off her nose
Like a sea lion
Yeah, you know what you call your sister?
What?
Glazed donut

This continues on for about a minute until the insults peter out and make way for the next song, “Too Fun,” featuring Kyle Richh, Jenn Carter, and a hip-hop group that simply goes by the name “41.” Maybe I am too old for this. Of course, if you’re listening to the (Versions) rendition of the album, the skit is followed up by a sped-up and slowed-down version, like toying with the playback speed on a podcast, but also listening to it three times over. 

Then we have what’s possibly the funniest moment on Mac & Cheese (Versions), a song called “Skit - Instrumental,” which is actually closer to a field recording than hip-hop. The track is an 87-second-long swirl of ambient noise, interspersed with light background murmurs and the sounds of a distant train car. This is all punctuated by a solitary laugh at the very end, and it’s nothing short of haunting. Brian Eno could never.

Six years ago for Vulture, Craig Jenkins described Migos’ Culture II as a “data dump,” pointing out that the album’s quality did not justify its nearly two-hour runtime. In that article, Jenkins claims that the 24-track Migos record felt like “the first deliberate artifact of Billboard chart gamesmanship” simply because it was packed with so many songs that it felt too unwieldy to even view as an album in the traditional sense. I agreed with him to some degree, but I also kinda took issue with that article at the time, arguing that Culture II wasn’t meant to be listened to all the way through or digested in any traditional way. Sure, it was a lot of content with very little quality control (wink wink, nudge nudge), but the way that most people were using this album negated any claims of data dumpage. At least they were all songs. French Montana must have seen people calling Culture II a data dump and thought, “I haven’t even begun to dump.”

One year ago, I got really interested in the “meta” of the music industry. I wrote at length about Spotify’s AI-generated playlists, TikTok’s influence on streaming and the phenomena of sped-up songs, and even the lack of visibility we have as fans when a song gets yanked offline for arbitrary reasons. Also around this time, I also wrote a piece called “Everything’s a Single Now,” in which I detail my experience stumbling upon Trippie Redd playing this same game of releasing every song off an album as a standalone single. In that case, Trippie Redd released a 25-track album called MANSION MUSIK and also released each of those songs a dedicated single. In that article, I also mentioned Coke Boys 6, a 29-song tape from French Montana and associates that indulged in the same practice. 

At the time, I was mainly writing about those techniques out of morbid curiosity. I wanted to document this objectively goofy practice as it stood in early 2023 because I’d never seen anything quite like it. I never would have dreamt that one year later, Montana would be doing the same thing five times over. 

So I must ask, where does it end? In 2025, will we get a French Montana album with ten versions? One album-length collection of just the bass? A version with just the adlibs? What about a slowed-down clean version? How about a sped-up acapella version with a touch of reverb? Where does it all end? I don’t have the answers, but with French Montana as our fearless leader, I’m excited to continue exploring the bounds of acceptable runtimes until the servers of Spotify overload and DJ Khaled needs to get involved. 

French Montana, never stop. You are a pioneer and a trailblazer. I will follow you to the ends of the earth until you release an album that lasts years. Hell, why not drop an album that could take me to the end of my life? I’d gladly spend the rest of my days with you, just give me that sweet time-filling Spotify link and let me drift off into the void. I’m ready.