A Bottle of Pills With A Bullet Chaser


Louisville, I was thinking the other day about how we used to be cool. We used to have all kinds of kick-ass shows. Crain, Shovel, Evergreen … man. Those were the times, huh? I guess, if you think about it, we kinda peaked somewhere around the mid-to-late ’90s. Now we’re just clacking away on our keyboards, staring at our spreadsheets, hoping we’ve got enough to cover the Insight bill.

Well, this blistering (thin-packed) slab of rock is just what the doctor ordered. I mean … Wino was killer! Intense, face-melting riffs, Aaron Hodge’s strangled hobo (by way of David Yow) vocals. Man. They were totally badass. Now we can relive those lost moments of intense coolness by jamming the volume up to 11 (or 45 on the home hi-fi), pumping our fists a few times and just generally losing it.

This one’s got all the hits, baby (how could it not … it has all the songs). Dig that live version of “Dogs.” Hell yeah! Louisville, this is easily the best thing that’s happened to us this year. Remember it when you’re giving thanks over that turkey.

Skip the Pills, Let's Give J. Brian Hall the Bullet Chaser!


Dear LEO,

In addition to noise rock, irony was also really popular in the 1990s. And at first, that’s what I thought I was getting a dose of in J. Brian Hall’s review of Wino’s stellar career retrospective, A Bottle of Pills and a Bullet Chaser. But no. This would appear to be an earnest review.

Mr. Hall – succinctly, are you serious? Do you think this passes for music writing? Have the teaching standards really fallen at JCPS that much since I passed through their system? They used to teach Strunk and White.

Most are aware that print journalism has been taking a beating due to market forces since around the time Gannet bought out the C-J, but efforts like Mr Hall’s eagerly help along the demise of the written word. Let’s see why.

You’re addressing an article to the whole city.
You’re trying to use tired, worthless terms like “kick-ass”, “badass”, “intense coolness” and “killer” in all seriousness.
You’ve invoking your crap office job and “reliving” the good old days as a reason to pick up this disk when the people who should pick it up are kids with guitars who are probably suffering through the writing workshop you clearly never took.
You use the word “man” as a whole sentence.
You expect readers to make sense of phrases like “face-melting” and “strangled hobo”. Melts your face how? Like a hot pepper? Or like a hot carl? What’s a strangled hobo sound like? Do they record?
You use the word "hits" when referring to a band whose press release invites even the lamest reviewers to compare them to the Swans and Unsane, hardly hitmakers.

Usually just copying the press release is a sure sign of bad reviewing, but in your case, it would have been an improvement.

Good writing uses clarity and facts to back up an argument. Since you missed it, let me give you one of the many highlights of Wino’s stellar career: when they blew the top off of Phoenix Hill Tavern’s upstairs by totally upstaging headlining act the Kelly Deal 6000, a band that played forgettable 1990s cookie-cutter pop. This was much to the disappointment of the ten frat-losers swilling Coors Lite at the bar. Mr Hall, if you were in a 10-mile radius of the show, then you were at the bar with them, cursing that god-awful racket made by those yahoos from Fern Creek.

Uhm…Shovel. Who are you kidding? They played twice and recorded a cover. They were a joke band. Their biggest achievement was live defecation – which is, actually, remarkably like the effect of your article.

Learn to write before you have the balls to publish something this bad again. And forget that you used to be cool. You weren’t.

Hank Baker


By ouadamantite
You’ve invoking your crap office job and “reliving” the good old days as a reason to pick up this disk when the people who should pick it up are kids with guitars who are probably suffering through the writing workshop you clearly never took. Check my erectie site.

A walk down memory lane...

By Jim_Mercer

Mr. Baker,

I'm pleased that you chose to add to Mr. Hall's review so effectively by bringing back another hallmark of the mid-90's music scene in Louisville. I'm referring, of course, to the blistering arrogance and elitism displayed by many of it's members.

So, you don't agree with his opinion? Fair enough. Musical taste is a personal thing, and we don't all have to like the same music. In this case, the author has found something that reminds him of good times he had in the past, and decided to share it with the rest of us. Where is the crime in that?

Were you so offended by the enjoyment of this album that you felt it was worth writing a response twice as long as the review itself? Are the points which you made somehow given more worth when supported by personal attacks?

Honestly, after reading your response, the first thing that comes to my mind is John Gabriel's Greater Internet Dickwad Theory.

I'm not too sure about the level of anonymity which you have, but I know that I've never heard of you before, and all evidence points strongly to the 'Dickwad' conclusion being accurate.

JCPS used to teach Strunk and White? Well, aren't you lucky to have gotten such a quality education? I'm pretty sure most of us were also taught "If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all." I guess you must have forgotten that one.

I suppose that what I'm trying to say is, if someone finds something that they enjoy, something as unimportant as the music they like, and want to tell other people, let them. It doesn't hurt you. It doesn't damage your life in any way. All it does is give you the opportunity to act like a prick, and it's not worth it.

Walk away, man. Just walk away.

Jim Mercer

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