LATEST
UPDATE: June 10 - various artists, L-Z, and THE DEED IS DONE.
(INTRODUCTION/EXPLANATION MOVED TO THE BOTTOM OF THE PAGE FOR EASE OF ENJOYMENT)
CURRENT COUNT OF CDS BOUGHT DUE TO DIRECT OR INDIRECT INFLUENCE OF BEAVIS & BUTTHEAD: 9 (NINE)
CURRENT COUNT OF CDS BOUGHT AFTER ILLEGAL TRIAL PERIOD: 13 (THIRTEEN)
B
C
E
(Earth, Wind, & Fire, Emmylou Harris, Etta James, Exhorder, and Exodus)
F
G
H
(Iced Earth, Infectious Grooves, ICP, and FUCKIN MAIDEN
YYEEEEEAAAHHHHHH)
(Jack White, Jerry Clower, Jimi Hendrix, John Lee Hooker,
Jucifer, Judas Priest, and Juliana Hatfield)
K/L
(Kenny Rogers, Kiss, Kool & the Gang, Korn, L7, Lacuna
Coil, Lady Gaga, Lamont & Tonelli, Leadbelly, Legit, Leona
Lewis, Life Sex & Death, Living Colour, and Lungbrush)
(Pain, Pantera, Pearl Jam, Pentagram, Pezz, The Pissants,
Primus, Prong, and Purged)
(Vanilla Ice, Venom, Vince DiCola, Voivod, Weird Al, White
Zombie, ZZ Top)
(mostly a bunch of CDs with Anthrax on them)
(mostly a bunch of really cheap late 90s punk comps)
(mostly a bunch of really cheap late 90s metal comps) - COMING EVENTUALLY
INTRODUCTORY EXPLANATION THAT USED TO BE AT THE TOP OF THE PAGE:
This is Dusty, and he is a Good Boy. Unfortunately, he occasionally strays from the path, as do we all, and chief among his vices is peeing on stuff. We can't place anything of value on a bottom shelf anymore because of this little turd. On a smelly related note is that I've decided to do what so many have done in recent years - I'm boxing up my compact discs. Now, I'm not selling them; fuck all y'all, you can't have these. I'm just making peace with the facts that my actual listening of music almost always takes place in digital form and that all my CDs are doing out here in the living room is collecting dust and tempting fate with a male cat who feels the need to assert his territorial boundaries from time to time. So into boxes (and perhaps closets) they go.
Normally, this is a job that would take about thirty minutes, maybe 45 if I get weird about alphabetizing. But like I said, all I do is listen to my crap in MP3 format, and the vast majority of this stuff got ripped at a time when hard drives were expensive, weak, and ineffectual, so it's done at a sample rate of 192Kbps. This was pretty much the standard when hard drives were measured in gigabytes, but we have terabytes now, and 192 is pretty much the threshold of "gee, this doesn't sound as good as the CD." I'm not getting into weirdo-nutso audiophile crap here; those people are morons who don't understand that the human ear can't hear some things, and only a great fool would pay Neil Young $1000 for a lossless format FLAC player. (And hell, there's probably a free phone app for that by now) I'm talking 320Kbps, which is the standard for store-bought music files now, and reasonably the highest quality you should ever bother with, because again, our ears don't work any better than that. So I'm gonna have to re-rip that stuff for me, and that means ***CONTENT*** for you. Precious content.
As I re-digitize and computerize most of my store-bought CDs, I'm going to leave reviews of everything here, maybe even including ones that were already nice and 320ed up. Maybe not reviews even, but the thoughts and feelings that come to mind in the stream of consciousness that happens during the minute or so it takes for a CD to run through the ripping process. (That's real techniques and real emotion, you guys. Yeaoh.) Seriously, I'm going to keep this brief. Or maybe sometimes not, if there's a decent story attached to something. I dunno. Rules get bendy sometimes.But I'm gonna put it all right here on this page, but probably then split that up into smaller pages, once that gets too unwieldy.Maybe I'll add cover art type pictures someday? Probably not. But let us begin.